Tomorrow my youngest Childerbeast and baby of the family will start her end of KS2 SATs – including a grammar paper, with questions similar to which, a group of University graduates recently struggled to complete. Not forgetting our Schools Minister, Nick Gibb, who does not know his subordinate conjunctions from his prepositions (yet it has not impeded his ability to get a highly paid job). Also our Prime Minister recently refused to answer questions in parliament on what a modal verb was. Could he have? Should he have?
We do not know yet what marks will decide whether or not she is working at whatever someone somewhere has decided is ‘Age Related Expectation’.
Ultimately, I don’t care.
She can read. Write a great story. She can add, subtract, multiply and divide. She can tell the time and divide a cake or pizza into eighths. More importantly to me, she will leave primary school with a little clique of friends and even a bestie – something not that long ago I thought would never happen. (I just hope that doesn’t all go to the dogs).
Anything over and above that at this age is unnecessary.
She has spent the weekend preparing for this annual farce by playing in the sun and eating ice lollies in the company of her family. She knows the answer to 7×8 and how many degrees are in a straight line, so we’re all good here thank you.
I love you schmooboo cookie-pie.
Best advice I can give… read the question. Read it again. Then do your best & try to spell everything right. You are amazing, generous, kind, funny, brilliantly bonkers and a fine writer, more beautiful than you think and one of the most articulate people I know.
I look forward to looking through the papers to see what the tricksters who come up with the questions have cooked up this year. (#NorepeatofDavelyDaleCavesthanks)