I'm not entirely proud of myself, as my thoughts haven't always been those I would choose to think. They aren't always in line with my beliefs. When I meet people I know who's children have just received exam results I ask how they've done. It would be rude not to. What I'd really like to ask is if their child was happy with their results and if they have good enough grades to do what they want to do next. I would like to be individual about it but I'm not. I want to know how many they passed, how many As Bs and Cs. And worst of all I want to know so that I can compare my own children's results. If they have lower grades than my children I feel a sense of superiority that I don't deserve. I didn't sit through the lessons , take the notes, do the homework, read the books or do the revision. I provided the occasional cake or courgette based dinner, which doesn't give me the right to take any kind of credit.. If, on the other hand, the results are far superior I feel shame. I sense the judgement of the other parent, the slightly depressed, "oh," before a brightening and a quick switch to their choice of University or A levels. Why do we do this to ourselves? Maybe I'm the only person who does this but I doubt it.
The day after A level results day I picked up a tabloid newspaper in a coffee shop and read Ulrica Johnson's column. In the corner was a little box containing a few words about A level results and how her son had got 3 A* s and an A (or something similar). A whole load of uncharitable thoughts ran through my head. I labelled her as a boastful Prima Donna, whose stupid son had only got those grades because of his over-priced private education paid for by the fact that she had sold her body and soul all through her youth. I doubt she made courgette cake for her children!
The truth is, none of those letters matter. I want my children and the children of my friends, acquaintances and even Ulricha Johnson to be happy. Happiness is not so easily measured.
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