When in Britain...

One thing I am beginning to realize two months into our lives in Britain is that British culture is one to reckon with. The Brits have their very own way of doing things and for most part, I think, they’ve got it right.

While it may be debatable whether tea must always be served with milk, they certainly have got a point when promoting locally grown produce, preserving farm land, and supporting the arts in the class room.

As a matter of fact, I like their take on most things. Maybe that’s just because their stubborn approach to so-called progress in some way mirrors mine.

After all, why should streets be broadened only so that more cars can drive on them? Why should more farmland be given up for development so that more people can commute from further away? And, really, why should the UK become part of the EU only because everyone from the Balkan to the Baltic is doing it?

However, I am, to say the least, mildly bewildered when it comes to understanding the rational behind their extremely complex education system.

While it may be regarded as merely cute that they call public all that is in fact private (for what else would you expect a Brit to do?), it can become rather time consuming and annoying when trying to figure out the sheer endless variations on the theme.

There are state-funded state schools, religious schools, grammar schools, and comprehensive schools. Prep-schools and pre-prep schools, however, seem to be always private, uh, public.

And while it is generally conceded that state funded schools are not as good as privately run institutions, some of them may actually be very good and quite exclusive. To get into them you have to be eleven years old and must have taken an exam, the 11+. That much I have figured out. However, different age requirements seem to apply for boys.

I also have figured out that it is basically impossible to find a reputable school to take a child beyond the age of 15 because the so-called top schools are very concerned about their final exam averages and, therefore, wouldn’t want to run the risk of taking on anyone but Einstein (if, in fact, they could make him out in a crowd).

I conclude, therefore, that the Brits are just as confused and panicked as everyone else in this world as far as their off-spring, i.e., their gene pool, is concerned.

How to ensure that their children will make it in this breathtakingly fast and efficient (albeit otherwise doomed) world doesn’t seem that clear to them. And, really, it isn’t.

It’s just sad that for all their stubbornness they haven’t come up with anything more... British.

Just like everyone else they scurry around like a mad bunch of chicken like in the movie Chicken Run advocating tougher entrance exams, national standards, and if all fails, elite education. Like everywhere else, mummies in this country busy themselves running their pallid third graders across town three times a day to keep up with that elusive thing called ‘a good education.’

What ever happened to four o’clock tea, I wonder? What happened to that minute or two reserved for quite introspection?

I saw an add for an after-school study program yesterday that read, “(...)exams, coursework, homework, revisions, essays...secondary school education is not an easy thing. Many children are suffering the symptoms of stress and exhaustion as the demands and expectations on them increase. So what can you do to help your child (...)?”

AFTER-SCHOOL STUDY PROGRAM??? Hellooooo, anyone home? Where are all ye smart Brits now??

I have to admit that while I have a hard time concealing my disappointment about this blind frenzy, I am grateful that at least the Brits are elitist enough to allow home education.

However, for a moment there I was swaying ready to succumb to the pressure, spurred on by the human desire to fit in, because after all most is good imn this corky little island state.

But then, what’s wrong with being more British than the Brits?