This post has been kicking around in my head (and computer) for months now. I haven’t done a ‘Soapbox’ for ages, so here goes…
When I was a teenager, I used to look forward to the athletics season in the summer term. It turns out that I was quite good at running the 800m. There was another guy in the year group who could clock a faster time than me, but as I was in a younger age group, I could manage to take the top spot on a regular basis.
Being at a posh school, we had athletics meetings all over the country roughly every second Saturday. (Curious that I had no trouble making these meetings, yet couldn’t manage the rugby during the winter, but that’s another story.) Off we would travel by bus to other parts of Scotland, and compete against other schools in our various events. It turns out that at these meetings I did quite well, and it was then decided that I should try my luck at the West of Scotland championships. A handful of us competing in a variety of events boarded the school minibus and set off for Scotstoun sports ground (I think? – my sense of direction is of course awful, so it could have been anywhere really).
My event was a cataclysmic disaster. I was in fact last in the heats. It turns out, that this should not have been a surprise. On speaking with my fellow competitors, their ‘personal best’ times were faster than mine. I felt good on the day, and had run a good race, but it simply wasn’t good enough. Had I run my personal best, even that wouldn’t have been good enough.
When I got to University, there was a chap in the year above me who had also been an 800m runner at school. Similar to me, he had tried his luck at national events (although in the much bigger arena of England!) and had done very well. Unfortunately for him, there were three other athletes in England at that time who could out perform him in the event. Try as he might, and train as he might, there were three individuals that were simply better than him – in the medal tables of course, fourth is nowhere.
I worry about pushing people towards ‘excellence’. For the vast majority, ‘excellence’ is unobtainable. And that’s not a bad thing. In my opinion, it’s great that excellence is unobtainable by the majority – that’s what makes ‘excellence’ excellent. That doesn’t mean that we should stop trying to better ourselves, but at least sit this in context. There are a great deal of things that I will never be excellent at, (running being one of them) and I’m fine with that.
Years later, I returned to running. Not for competition, but for the sense of enjoyment. I have run quite a number of 10K events, and never once been troubled by the notion of competition. My times for 10K events are decidedly average. I am content in the knowledge that I will never be excellent at running 10K events. I will constantly try to better my times, and improve my performance, but make no mistake, this will never be ‘excellent’. There are some people running these events for which competition is everything, and do very well out of it. So for some people in this event, a considerable minority, perhaps ‘excellence’ is attainable?
If we are setting up an education system with ‘excellence’ at its centre, we are setting kids up to fail. If we truly mean ‘excellence’, then this cannot be attained by all but the decided minority. That’s a good thing, but what do we then tell the majority who fail? I suspect that what will happen will be worse still. We establish ‘excellence’ as our goal, and dumb down the standards so that actually the majority achieve it. If you want any proof of this, dig out your own exam certificates, have a look at what subjects you achieved the top grade in, and ask yourself – “Am I excellent at this?” I’d far rather we acknowledged that excellence exists, is attainable by none bar a few, and that this is ok. By all means strive for excellence, but it’s ok to be average.
I suppose 