This matter of Z-scores and cut-off marks, every year the same fever. I remember my own father, the day he saw my results — he didn't say a word, just went to the corner shop and bought me a packet of Krackjack. All that anxiety, and in the end, a quiet biscuit. But I tell my students: don't trade your *manassu* for a number. My brother got into engineering with a so-so Z-score, but today he can't fix a fuse at home. The real learning comes when you are not being watched, in that 15 minutes of sunlight after the bell.
#a-level
Jump in to reply — no account needed.
