Predicted grades--the quirk at the center of UK university applications

USA and UK schools are different in many ways, but the university application process is very different.  The big reason is that students are judged mostly by exam scores that they don't receive until two weeks before they're supposed to start university.  More on that in a minute.  

Students start by creating an account on the University and Colleges Application System (UCAS).  All the universities are on there, so unlike the USA system where you have to fill out separate applications for every university, UK students just fill out one.  They have to write a personal statement summarizing why they want to apply for the subject they've chosen, and they choose the programs to which they want to apply.  In the USA you apply to the university and don't actually have to choose a major yet since everyone takes the same classes in the first semester anyway. Not so in the UK.

So, you have to choose your field of study.  If you want to study physics, you find programs that appeal to you.  There's a great variety even within a field. Physics, Physics with Philosophy, Physics with Maths, and Natural Sciences are all examples that might appeal to a physicist.  You are ultimately restricted to 5 programs on your application.

Students choose programs partly based on what they want to study and partly based on how difficult it is to get into the program.  This is where it gets complex, because remember, they don't take the exams until the end of the year.  

Classes taken in the last two years of high school (called Sixth Form) are A-level classes.  Students only take 3 or 4 of them.  At the end, they take exams and earn grades of A*, A, B, C, D, E, and so on.  After applying to the universities, students don't get accepted as such, they earn offers.  I might apply to a physics program and get an offer of AAB, which means those are the grades I need to earn. It doesn't generally matter what exam gets what grade, although a physics program could require me to earn an A in my physics exam.  If a student gets an offer and earns the grades, he/she is accepted into the program.  If not, then not.  

During the application process, students look at the normal grades needed for offers from that program.  Universities will only make offers to students likely to match them, so we teachers are asked to make predictions of what grades they will earn.  We make these predictions with a year still to go in their education.  If you give an honest appraisal that isn't as high as the student had hoped, it could be deflating.  It could also be motivating, but if the students predictions are all too low, it lessens their chances of getting offers from some programs.  On the flip side, if you err on the very hopeful side, predicting higher than you reasonably think they'll get, it can prevent students from seeing how far they need to go to reach that plateau.  If a student has overly optimistic predictions, he/she may be likely to fall short of any offers, leaving them in limbo when the grades come in.  On top of it all, universities will often make offers higher than they actually want.  Let's say Schneider University is happy with students getting ABB.  We may choose to only give offers of AAA in order to get smarter kids applying.  If students earn at least ABB, we'll accept them anyway. But if they don't have the AAA predictions in the first place, we won't give them the offer.  

These predictions are one of the quirkiest parts of the UK school system from an outsider's point of view, and the stakes make it an emotional part.  

Baseball mindfulness

It took moving to England to make me really appreciate baseball.  Oddly, it's a bigger part of my life now than it ever was before.  I watch nearly every Pirates game, and that wasn't even true during the Van Slyke years.  MLB.tv makes it simple to stream every game, so my morning routine has been watching the previous night's game over my coffee.  Before school was out, I could get through 4 innings and finish over dinner.  During the summer, I just watch it all the way through.  And every Sunday I have a game I can watch live.  It's been awesome.  It makes me feel like I'm still a part of Pittsburgh even as I start to lay down roots in London.

<sidenote> The Pirates would be smart to trade Starling Marte.  He is a lazy player.  They were smart to pick up Sean Rodriguez again.  He works his butt off. </sidenote>

I also play softball now.  I'd never played on an organized baseball or softball team before I lived in England.  I've played for three years now in London.  Between the two teams I play for during the week and all the weekend tournaments we enter, I play a lot.  I'm discovering that baseball/softball really teaches me to calm down.  I'm more competitive than I like to let on, and I get really pissed at myself when I don't perform.  Picture Rain Man smacking himself in the head.  That's not far from the truth.  I now realize I've normally avoided competitive situations sort of subconsciously because I don't like that side of myself.  But I love baseball, so I've finally had to face it head on.  If I think about the hit I need to get, I pop it up.  If I think about the catch I need to make, I drop it.  If I think about the throw I need to make, I sail it.  It's weird and counter-intuitive to me, but I only play well when find a way to not think about it.  Yesterday, down by two in the bottom of the last inning, one out. I'd flown out and popped out the first two times at bat.  A year ago, I'd have popped out again.  This time, I managed to talk myself into calming down.  "Watch the first pitch no matter what.  Wait for a good one, you'll know when you see it.  Watch the ball all the way.  Snap the wrists."  I got a double that started a winning rally.  Two days ago, I'm playing 3rd base in a close game.  Runner on 1st.  Batter singles, runner rounds second heading for 3rd.  "Maybe he gets here.  Don't worry.  Walk over to the bag.  Make a big target for the relay.  Watch the ball into the glove, then straight down and hold."  Got the runner out.  Snuffed a possible rally.  Softball is forcing me to calm down and focus.  

Even when it doesn't end well, which it often doesn't, the game is forcing me to find a way to deal with it calmly.  I'm at shortstop and a perfect double play ball comes to me.  I tag 2nd, throw to first, and the throw sails 10 feet above her head.  "You got one.  The force is still on.  Next time, slow down, eye contact, throw hard again."  The next grounder comes to me, the runner beats the throw.  "Runner was just too fast.  Take a step in to shorten the next throw."  Softball is forcing me to productively deal with failure. 

I have no choice, really.  I can't keep breaking my helmet throwing it on the ground.  

Baseball's best hitters fail 2/3 of the time.  Baseball's best teams lose more than a third of their games.  Harvey Haddix pitched 12 perfect innings and still lost the game.  And for 25 years, ESPN has been reminding me about Sid Bream and Francisco Cabrera.  Baseball teaches you to deal with defeat.