18 years on and my schooldays still haunt me

Wednesday, April 12th, 2006

I am 35 (God help me), I have a degree, an MA and a postgraduate teaching qualification. I’ve written books and articles, spoken at conferences, been teaching for seven years, was a designer for ten years before that. I think I’m qualified to do certain things.

So here I am, filling in another application form for a job I know I would enjoy, would be able to do and would bring a great deal to.

So why, oh why, does this form, and every other form I’ve ever filled in, still ask me to list the school I went to sixteen years ago and the O-levels I took? Who cares that I got a B in O-level maths in 1986 (at the age of 15, might I add) or an A in Physics when I was 16? I’ve moved on. These things don’t matter. Let me just attach a copy of my degree certificates and have done.

I am 35 and my A in Computer Studies means I could program a BBC Micro in 1987 and nothing more. It’s my achievements now, not my choices as a teenager that make me who I am.
You might as well ask me whether I used Clearsil or Oxy10 to zap my zits.

Plus I only got six O-levels so I’m a bit embarrassed compared with today’s precocious kids and their twelve A-star GCSEs, alright?

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