Competitive spirit (London)

In the first few years of my 23 years teaching on the evening programme (then three more on the full time degree programme), the exam results would come out as a P/F (pass/fail) on the announcement board, perhaps because in those days, part-time students were learning Mandarin for fun as they were just interested in the culture, history and literature.  Students could approach the teacher for their specific mark if they were interested.

    One such student in Grade 1 (beginner class) did just that, at my summer party.

    I used to throw a summer party for my students, and a winter one, inviting students from different grades so that they'd get a chance to meet people from other classes.

    This student and I were standing in the garden, away from the rest of the group, so he asked for his exam mark.  I didn’t have any reason to refuse, so I gave it to him.  It was a distinction — at the risk of sounding like I'm downplaying their achievement, it is easy enough for Grade 1 Mandarin as they hadn’t learned too many characters [150 at the end of 25 weeks or so] or words, and the grammar is much less complex.

    He went on to ask if there was anyone else above him.  This is where the well-brought-up Singaporean in me answered before the brain assessed the situation: I told the truth — yes, there was another person with a higher mark.

    He was quite upset about it: “I’ve been attending all the lessons, doing all the homework — and in both simplified and traditional scripts as well.  Yet, someone else got a higher mark!”

    I had to say, “I’m afraid it isn’t always down to how hardworking one is.  Some people are just better at languages than others.  Also, there’ll always be people in the world who are taller than you, more handsome than you.”  He blushed at this.  

    His wife, from Taiwan, standing beside him, piped up: “That’s what I keep telling him!  He's so competitive!”

    He himself had to admit, “That's true.  I was pipped to the top position at Cambridge by one mark [in Maths] and by a girl too.  It upset me for days.”

(London, 1988)