Preparing for school transfer test – I’m nowhere near close to ready

Recently, I have tried to remember if the experience was particularly stressful to my youthful psyche, or if I was made anxious by the ordeal. I find that I am unsure, the passage of time has twisted the picture too far to be clear. Perhaps the school examination is one of the long list of things which I was able to cope with more effectively as a child than I am as a parent.

I am sitting in a plastic chair in the dining hall at my son’s primary school. Lots of other parents are around me making polite and nervous small talk. The headmaster explains that he is going to give us an introduction to what we need to know about the transfer test. The main purpose of the meeting, he assures us smilingly, is to put us at ease, to dispel any fears that we may have.

I find this to be counterproductive. Up until this moment I have been perfectly well at ease with no fears clouding my mind. As the headmaster smiles and speaks his words of comfort, I find myself becoming ill at ease, burdened with fears.

Sheets of paper containing useful information are handed round. The first page, I notice, has the title ‘Strategies and Techniques for Keeping Calm’. It is not clear if this is directed at the children or the parents.

I read some of the tips. It recommends dojo breathing and finger breathing. I lean towards my wife and whisper an inquiry as to what finger breathing is, but she just shushes me. I read a section entitled ‘Centring Activities’ which gives an example of a relaxation exercise. “First, breathe in the smell of the flowers. Then blow out the candles.” I read it again and again.

I know that I have been slow in setting my mind in the direction of the tests that are coming in November. There are other parents who are much better prepared, who have arranged private tutors for their children, or who have already visited prospective grammar or secondary schools. I have done none of this.

I can easily pass this off with an explanation that I am determined not to make too much out of the examinations, not to build them to become more than they should be. I can construct an argument that my relaxed attitude is because I don’t want to stress out my son. Perhaps a more truthful explanation would be that I have not wanted to stress myself out.

But now I am gripped with an unwelcome feeling that things are all moving too fast. There’s a part of me which wants to stand up in the middle of this room and yell “Stop! There’s been a mistake! It’s too soon!”

I have experienced this emotion before, several times throughout my son’s life. I suppose it’s the curse of the parent, the emotional tic. I will always view him as younger than he really is and have difficulty in accepting that he is ready for stages that take him a little bit further away from me.

Before my boy started school, during a period when I was too ill to work, we spent all our time together. As soon as he began education, that link was naturally diluted. It would never, ever be just the two of us again. All the time with him now is before or after school, between terms or at weekends.

The transfer test disturbs me because it is another step on that relentless path of life; from primary to secondary school, on to university and employment. Another inching turn of the groaning, grinding, relentless, old wooden wheel.

The headmaster is going through slides on an overhead projector. I go back to the sheets with the information about what we can expect from the test. One of the pages gives a list of areas covered in P6 mathematics. It includes Venn diagrams, Carrol diagrams, algebra rules, function machines, symmetry and reflection, tessellation, tessellation of shape, quadrilateral angles.

One of the mums leans across to ask me what tessellation is. I frown and shrug my shoulders. “If this is P6 maths, I’d hate to see what they do in P7,” I whisper.

The English section is perhaps less daunting, although that may only be because I’m slightly better with words than numbers. This syllabus includes inference, antonyms, suffixes, homophones, homonyms and use of authorial techniques. (I have worked in journalism and creative writing for all of my adult life. I’ve written for countless newspapers, websites, magazines and journals. I’ve published my own book and contributed to several others. I’ve never, ever, had cause to use the word authorial.)

The principal tells us that we are at the beginning of a journey which will take many months. He is frank enough to concede that it can be difficult and stressful. However, he also reminds us the children do not have to sit the test. There are many different educational routes that are available. He takes us through the process of making an application for entry into a secondary of grammar school, advising us to pay particular attention to each individual school’s criteria. It all sounds devilishly complicated and I can feel my head starting to swim from the overload of information.

The last thing I remember before the meeting breaks up, is the headmaster assuring us that whatever we decide, his staff will make sure that our children are prepared and ready.

The bigger challenge may lie in getting me prepared and ready.