As Doctor Johnson did not say, but I am too lazy to look up who actually said it, “Be assured sir, if a man is to be hanged on the morrow it concentrates his mind wonderfully.”
These strangely uncomforting words came to mind this morning as we lurched into the second glorious day of the examination season. We kept to our smaller groups in the vain hope that we could at least contain the cheating which is endemic to the whole of the school and the whole of the intellectual array of talent we have here. No matter how clever you are; or indeed how academically challenged you might be, nothing adds more zest to the pursuit of knowledge in this place than a little judicious cheating.
The ways that the pupils do this vary and, fairly obviously, the more refined and sophisticated ways of cheating have passed me by and presumably worked for them – though their marks would appear to tell a different story!
The first lot of marking was collected by me yesterday and after a soul destroying start I lapsed into a sulking indifference and stopped marking. Today we had another exam so I have a second set of marking. This too I have started, but that was because I couldn’t find the set from yesterday.
And this is where the “concentrates the mind wonderfully” comes in. Given the prevalence of cheating in this school I am not convinced about the essential value of any examination: but you lose a set of examination papers and they suddenly assume the importance of The Dead Sea Scrolls. This is the only time in my life when the marking of a new set of examination papers can be officially classified as “displacement activity” to keep my mind off the terrible reality of missing papers.
I worked out where the papers ought to be and then found myself stranded in another building and unable to find out whether I was right or not.
Friday is my ‘duty day’ for lunchtime. It comes as something of a total failure that after years of struggle in Great Britain to ensure that teachers were not bound to be in school for their lunch hours I supinely give in and accept duties that I would have rejected with outraged contempt at home. Ah well, different countries different attitudes!
A second ride on the bike! I rejected with incredulous laughter the idea that my bike riding should be extended to any area which wasn’t flat. When, I asked with withering scorn if anyone had ever seen a cyclist going up a slope with a smile on his face? Case proven I think!
Instead a decorous ride to Gavá and back and then by way of reward a meal in our local restaurant!
That’s the way to do it.
And my missing examinations papers were where I thought they might be. Eventually.
Now the weekend is set for a couple of days of intense joy and marking! And yes, that is an oxymoron.
These strangely uncomforting words came to mind this morning as we lurched into the second glorious day of the examination season. We kept to our smaller groups in the vain hope that we could at least contain the cheating which is endemic to the whole of the school and the whole of the intellectual array of talent we have here. No matter how clever you are; or indeed how academically challenged you might be, nothing adds more zest to the pursuit of knowledge in this place than a little judicious cheating.
The ways that the pupils do this vary and, fairly obviously, the more refined and sophisticated ways of cheating have passed me by and presumably worked for them – though their marks would appear to tell a different story!
The first lot of marking was collected by me yesterday and after a soul destroying start I lapsed into a sulking indifference and stopped marking. Today we had another exam so I have a second set of marking. This too I have started, but that was because I couldn’t find the set from yesterday.
And this is where the “concentrates the mind wonderfully” comes in. Given the prevalence of cheating in this school I am not convinced about the essential value of any examination: but you lose a set of examination papers and they suddenly assume the importance of The Dead Sea Scrolls. This is the only time in my life when the marking of a new set of examination papers can be officially classified as “displacement activity” to keep my mind off the terrible reality of missing papers.
I worked out where the papers ought to be and then found myself stranded in another building and unable to find out whether I was right or not.
Friday is my ‘duty day’ for lunchtime. It comes as something of a total failure that after years of struggle in Great Britain to ensure that teachers were not bound to be in school for their lunch hours I supinely give in and accept duties that I would have rejected with outraged contempt at home. Ah well, different countries different attitudes!
A second ride on the bike! I rejected with incredulous laughter the idea that my bike riding should be extended to any area which wasn’t flat. When, I asked with withering scorn if anyone had ever seen a cyclist going up a slope with a smile on his face? Case proven I think!
Instead a decorous ride to Gavá and back and then by way of reward a meal in our local restaurant!
That’s the way to do it.
And my missing examinations papers were where I thought they might be. Eventually.
Now the weekend is set for a couple of days of intense joy and marking! And yes, that is an oxymoron.
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