But at a parent meeting at the beginning of the year, the other parents were stressed out. And understandably so. This test determines what classes are open to students in secondary (middle) school, and that in turn affects whether or not they will be eligible for the academic high school and therefore, university. With secondary school class levels that are lower, students are shifted off to commercial school or apprenticeships.

The pedagogical counselors stress that it is possible to advance in level if a student shows great progress. However, while it may be true in theory, it is very difficult in practice. With certain classes that must be passed in order to change level and advance to the academic high school (the lycee) how would a student who has tracked differently ever be able to make them up after the fact?

When I first encountered this system twenty years ago, I was indignant. It seemed so awful and fatalistic to have one's life and opportunities determined so early on and by such an awful meter as a standardized test. Back then, incidentally, the determination was made even earlier, after fourth grade.  Later I thought that perhaps some early tracking wasn't such a bad idea. As an elementary school teacher friend said, whether correctly or not, "Oh, yes, in second grade you can tell the kids who will end up as serious students and those who won't." 

Nowadays, I've come back round to my earlier position. I've seen too many late bloomers around me to think that sorting them all out in sixth grade is a good idea.

My brother-in-law is a case in point. After secondary (middle) school, he decided he'd had enough of academic study and was weary of being compared unfavorably with his older brother. He opted out of the university track and went instead to the commercial business high school. That went along alright until one summer he took a job that was representative of where his school track was heading. A couple of months in that factory showed him that that was not where he wanted to remain. It motivated him to finish the academic high school. But by then it was too late to jump back in. For three years he had to attend a special high school two hours away for those completing their maturité late.

Now let me be clear here on one point. I do think that the system of commercial schools and apprenticeships here has its benefits. There is a culture of pride of craftsmanship and in a skill well-learned and handed down that we would be well to emulate in the United States. Not everyone is cut out for higher academic studies, and academic studies do not in any way guarantee success and happiness.

It is my sincere wish and plan that each of my children leaves home with a lot of head knowledge and deep thoughts but also with some practical marketable skills. Being a positive influence on culture means knowing how to think and reason, but knowing how to fix a car or tailor a dress means you can always feed your family. And someone who responsibly feeds his or her family through the work of his or her own hands is also a positive influence on culture.

So my gripe is with a system that makes a lot of key life decisions for you and then makes it very, very hard to alter them. In that meeting with the other parents, I sensed the low-grade feeling of fatalism in the room. This is a fairly blue-collar area, where conversations often turn about jobs and unemployment rates and leaving for the big city to find work. Life is good here, with space to breathe and affordable housing, but there is still that desire for kids to pass that test, move on and up and out, to do better than we've done, to move away, to have Options. Everybody wants options.

At the end of the meeting, the teacher explaining the testing system had this parting encouragement to the parents.  "It doesn't do any good to try to prepare your children for the tests, so don't bother. It won't change anything." 

In spite of that, we did prepare Athena; I gave her my little speech about doing her best, and she did. She drew birdies on every other page.