‘Twas the night before results day …

clever clogs

So, when I went to bed last night I was a little anxious. Why? Today is GCSE results day and as I fell asleep I wasn’t convinced that my whole class would secure that oh so important Grade C (or better.) There were (at least) 3 students of mine for whom a grade C would be a great performance and significant improvement on their January mock. I was hoping for a few B’s, and, in my wildest dreams, I would, perhaps snag an A from one of (another) 3 students who might just ace it.

And so the day dawned. I logged and and looked at “my” results.

Why did I ever doubt them? Those lovable teenagers who I have cajoled, prodded, praised and chastised in equal measure for the last two years had only gone and bloody well done it.

All got at least a C (meaning that they will now wave a little white flag of surrender and give up maths. Forever.) Most got B’s (including one of my three who I feared may end up with a D) and a couple of them got As.

Teenagers tend to get a bad press. They don’t deserve it – give them a bit of respect and you get it back in spades. I’m actually (now) looking forward to seeing them again in September as they return for the sixth form, a little bit wiser and a little bit older and no longer will I have to chase them up for their homework or convince them that algebra is far more interesting than that girl wandering past the window …

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