Today, as I scuttled from one meeting to another, I passed a small alcove in the corridor wall. Sitting in the recess was a young woman who was wracked by great, shuddering sobs. Tears streamed down her face to drop off her chin, black with of mascara, onto the piece of paper which she held in her hand.
That piece of paper told the story as clearly as words: today is exam results day.
Being human, I forgot about the meeting and stopped. I hunkered down opposite her in the corridor, and tried to utter the sort of platitudes that might bring an end to this storm of grief: not the end of the world, other options, sit the exams again, and blah blah blah.
She looked up and shook her head at me. It took a minute or so before she should control the spasms sufficiently to sniff and stammer an explanation: «I've got the results I needed!» she finally manage to stay.
So ... all of this emotional upheaval was not devastation over failure but relief at success. Either way, it seems to me that there is something very wrong with a system in which we put young people under that much strain.
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