Joining The Dots To Make Another Number

The Age

Monday November 17, 2008

Alexandra Patrikios - Alexandra Patrikios is a year 11 student at Ballarat and Clarendon College

UNCHARACTERISTIC as it may be for an adolescent, I realise I'm not the centre of the world. I know I'm insignificant, small and, ultimately, just another dot on the page - but that doesn't necessarily mean I like being reminded of the fact.

So, when I get handed a dot-plot every other week at school, needless to say, I'm inclined to be somewhat philosophical.

For the unacquainted, a dot-plot is exactly what it sounds like: a graph that charts every score obtained on a particular assessment, and allocates dots to represent the student that achieved the mark along a distribution curve. Indeed, pitted against the X and Y axis of a dot-plot, a teenager is as good as the score they get, and everyone in class knows it.

A ripple of speculative whispers follows every assessment distribution, with the most common inquiry a toss-up between the expected, "Who's that?" and the complementary, "Which one are you?". Ah, the elusive Top Dot is a polarising position; a Shangri-La of academic invincibility for most, a regular pedestal for others. If initial investigations do not provide sufficient information to interpret the plot in its entirety, further gleaning is required. And that's where the locker-room grapevine, along with its various outlets, comes in handy.

The girls' bathroom mirror has water-cooler significance to any schoolyard, and it is at this site that educational policies are discussed and dissected, for the most part, with an unwavering scepticism that would make Kerry O'Brien proud. Forget Dexter, the hottest topic of conversation at the private school end is a matter of numbers: marks, grades, scores, predictors, scaling, and of course, the omnipotent ENTER.

Sometimes, the suspiciously congealed appearance of the cafeteria's lunchtime offering isn't even enough to quell the appetite for dot-plot gossip, and with the exacting precision of data analysts, the figures are evaluated.

The most precise experts are, perhaps surprisingly, the defectors. Having made the transition from the public system, private school neophytes commonly walk into an unforgivably competitive environment seriously unprepared - the easy victories of a more lax approach are chastised with rigorous assessment.

Suddenly, the stress levels are upped with the ante, and the VCE students' favourite sport - "Who will get glandular first?"- commences the new season. Such is the nature of our educational system and, like my dad says, "If you want to play, you have to pay".

I know it will only get worse, and that eventually, the delineation between personal value and ENTER will be nearly impossible. I know that come the end of next year, VCE done and dusted, one of the hardest, most challenging years of my life so far will be summarised neatly in four numerals. I know that I'm a number, a dot, and ultimately, insignificant and small.

But it still doesn't mean I like being reminded of the fact.

Alexandra Patrikios is a year 11 student at Ballarat and Clarendon College.

© 2008 The Age

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