On 4 May, with rain hammering down in a very appropriate display of pathetic fallacy, students studying English at my high school experienced that gut-clenching nervousness that goes along with invigilators, impossible question papers and strictly blue or black pens. Exam stress is a whole entity in itself, looming over us for weeks like spectres in the night. Why would we be feeling this way if, as we’ve been told, we aren’t even doing exams?
The past two years have felt like wading through quicksand: every single time progress has been made, we have got sucked back down in squelching failure. Exams were cancelled…and then they weren’t…but, oh wait! They were again.
As we entered another lockdown in January, teachers emphasised that we should concentrate on new content rather than prelims. However, when my peers and I finally returned to school in March (for a miniscule amount of time), there was apparently just over a month until our “assessments”. I know how a thesaurus works; it was crystal-clear that this was just clever wording used to delay the rush of complaints.
Having started my “assessments”, I see no difference between them and traditional exams. The only thing is that, aside from maths and English, nothing is being held out of class time. We get no exam leave, having to trudge miles into school only to spend hours lounging around, stewing in anxiety, boredom and tears.
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This set-up means that certain people do their exams before others. Schools have forced the obligatory threats about misconduct down our throats repeatedly, but the effort is futile. The Scottish Qualifications Authority (SQA) seems reliant on this notion that not a single individual across Scotland will post their answer for question 7 for the Higher biology paper, or that, when - not if - this happens, people’s curiosity won’t rear its head, encouraging them to sneak a peek. Already, there are tales about an entire section of TikTok being devoted to answers, opinions and all the little cheats people can use to score well, despite not lifting a finger all year. But because the SQA said so, nobody is going to look at these. Of course…
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What makes it more unfair is how schools are operating their exam systems differently. My school is running its exams in two sets of two-week blocks, with revision weeks between them. Despite the advantages of this - namely the extra time we get to home in on specific aspects for each test - the period now lasts an excruciating month, yet all the exams are crushed perilously close together. Some people I know had four exams back to back.
However, for schools on the other side of the country, students may be getting exam leave, doing the full exam paper in one go or over a longer timescale, or even being allowed to do resits. This magnifies the problems regarding cheating, given the huge inconsistency and miscommunication being displayed.
The cherry on top of this ramshackle cake is that the SQA isn’t even marking the papers; teachers are expected to do so. I have witnessed the chaotic air of departments at present as papers are tossed between teachers as if they are scalding, and it seems as if they, too, are staggering beneath the stress of it all.
In truth, all the horrendous aspects of exams have been blended to produce some grim concoction. My first block having passed, I feel prepared to take on anyone who says, “They aren’t real exams. Just calm down!”
If anything, the stress feels magnified by the uncertainty of whether anything will truly work out. I can’t imagine the struggle it has been to ensure that education can return to some sense of normality - but I can’t help but feel that this wasn’t the easiest way to go about things.
The writer is a student at a secondary school in Scotland
