Avast!

The childminders all seemed really happy to see Joey at integration class this morning. My classroom is directly above the courtyard where the children play, and we mothers spend the two hours of class trying to tune out the unhappy wails of a few particular children. But they told me, Joey, he's a piece of cake. Apparently he spends a lot of his mornings pushing around cars and building lego towers that are taller than he. That sounds about right.  Good boy.

Today in class, we had our second session dealing with Swiss schools.  I wrote a lot about the structure of the school system last week: today we focused on secondary schools.  One thing I found particularly interesting was that, as long as a student passes a subject, particular classroom grades have absolutely no bearing on a student's future: they're strictly a tool for communication between the teacher and the student.  Kids are graded on a scale of 1-6, with six being excellent and 3 being a pass: apparently, children who score four or better are encouraged to take the entrance exam for Gymnasium, the highly academic secondary school.  However, all students, regardless of their grades, are allowed to take the entrance exam, and any who pass are allowed to enter.

And, once a student is in Gymnasium, all they need to gain admission to college is their Gymnasium degree. If they have this, they can attend the Swiss University of their choice, automatically, and study whatever they wish.

Also, interestingly, the Gymnasium exam is the first standardized test that the students take in their academic career.  Apparently, some kids form Gymni-clubs, to study and quiz each other to prepare for this exam.  In an average class, something like fifteen percent of kids pass the test; in particularly well-to-do areas, the number can be as high as 40 percent.

I asked the teacher what the atmosphere is like among the parents during placement time.  I live in a particularly high-strung section of Kirkland, Washington, where parents begin to coach their children in phonics immediately upon exit of the womb. When it comes time to test children for the gifted and talented program, there's two gymnasiums full of the district's children, per grade, ready to throw their hats into the ring.  All of the children are above average. Walden has nothing on the communities orbiting the Microsoft campus.

I can only imagine what the tension level might be, were the Swiss system transferred to Kirkland.

But no, the teacher said: sometimes parents will send their children to prep classes or summer classes, but this is unusual. Generally, parents are contented products of the system, and they trust that the same system will help their children find a satisfying career.  However, my teacher, herself, comes from an fiercely academic background.  When one of their children was born premature, she and her husband decided to set aside so that they could send him to private school if he didn't pass the Gymni exam. (Which is why private schools are looked down upon, here: they're seen as the ambitious parent's fallback.)

It actually sound like, of the two secondary schools, the vocational track is more stressful and demanding: children, at the fresh young age of twelve, are responsible, themselves, for finding Master craftsmen to serve as apprentice.  They need to fill out applications and present themselves in interviews, and they need to continue to perform at a satisfactory level. The children usually serve in their apprenticeship half the school week, and the rest of the week, they continue their basic education studies.  As they progress through school and towards their career, their classwork becomes more targeted toward their career: they study bookkeeping for math, for example.

When the kids are done with their secondary school, for those who continue on to the universities or technical colleges, the colleges are no more nurturing.  There are no dormitories, and the majority of students continue to live at home.

Anyway, that's that.  Joey and I scuttled home, and when the big kids got back, I pushed Ella to finish her homework as quickly as she could.  Since it's Wedneday, and she had the afternoon off, I wanted to finally take the kids up to the pool.

Since the temperature dropped about twenty degrees from yesterday, and since the rest of Zürich spent the last five days at the pool, we found ourselves in the wonderful position of being four of about two dozen people in the whole aquatic complex.  The kids kept reporting back to me: Best! Day! Ever!

The line at the waterslide has lately been snaking all the way down the stairs and to the pool: today, Ella had the slide to herself.  And she commandeered every single raft and floating mat in the pool and stacked them together to make a giant pirate ship, using kickboards as paddles. My three kids menacingly floated, with cups of water and two beach, er, cannon balls, stacked at one end.  They were armed and ready in case of attack.  

But, when it came to it, my kids were lousy pirates.  Whenever one of the few kids at the pool approached them, they quickly broke off and shared a piece of their ship without the least resistance. Sheesh.