All or Nothing
Posted on October 11, 2014 under Storytelling with no comments yet
The hallways of the old Antigonish High School
They say that a picture is worth a thousand words. Sometimes words alone simply don’t do justice; it is hard to describe the wonder of nature painted in a sunrise or sunset. But just as often pictures don’t tell the whole story. Sometimes a word can say more than a thousand pictures.
When you hear someone yell “Fire!” you immediately spring into safety mode. The triumphant shout of “Bingo!” indicates the end of the game … and the possibility of a stampede. And if you’re a golfer, the cry “Fore!” means duck your head because someone has launched an errant shot.
I was at the Farmer’s Market recently and bumped into a couple of old friends. The subject of education came up and we shared stories about the impact that certain teachers have had on our lives. In some cases, their influence has been life-changing. In the middle of this animated conversation, one of them uttered a word that stopped us all in our tracks. We gave each other knowing glances. No need to explain or draw a diagram for this one.
Provincials. As in provincial examinations.
In life, there is black and there is white and there are shades of gray. It’s ok to have an off day at work or to have a sub-par (over par!) round of golf. But when your entire academic year hangs in the balance, depending upon the successful completion of a set of exams set by the province, there are no shades of gray.
Pass or fail. All or nothing.
Not everyone thrives on pressure. Standing up in front of a crowd to make a public presentation is among the hardest things for most mortals to do. Sometimes you nail it while other times you just stink out the joint. But you almost always have a chance to redeem yourself. Provincials leave you either standing or lying in the dust. You pass … or you fail. Period.
Provincials were always held in June and invariably exam day was unseasonably hot. When I think about it I remember sweaty palms, perspiration on the forehead, and palpitations of the heart. The walk into the examination room made me feel every bit as uneasy as Daniel in the lion’s den. Luckily, just about everybody in the class came out, like Daniel, unscathed. Thanks in large part to those extraordinary teachers we were talking about the other morning.
I’m not sure how I feel about the ordeal of Provincials. We all dread a root canal but when it’s over and we have relief, we look back and say it wasn’t so bad. These “make or break” exams certainly prepared us for the life challenges that were ahead.
I sometimes take the pressure cooker out of the cupboard to prepare the spuds, especially for large gatherings. Writing provincials was another kind of pressure cooker – I’ll keep that one in storage, thank you very much.
That is, until the next time a crony utters that word.
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