Why do we allow this to happen?

baldyblogs

My dad was a teacher for 35 years, never having a day off, relentlessly optimistic whether it be in the classroom, with his beloved soccer and athletics teams or on the damp and desolate hills of the Peak District on ‘summer’ camp with all of year 7 [1 as was!] During exam season, he was a bundle of nerves and I can recall mum calling the doctor because he was having palpitations and cold sweats. He bunged a few beta-blockers in and was in work in the morning-I couldn’t understand why this bloke who pumped weights in our back yard and walked 6 miles back and fro to his school each day could become so worried sick each year about his A level results. When the day of publication arrived, the results became toilet reading for the next month-I knew them off by heart myself-and if the results were good, the relief was…

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