Around Australia, thousands of year 12 students are receiving their ATAR – Australian Tertiary Admissions Rank. The ATAR is based on external exam and school based assessment results, together with input from the General Assessment Test. It’s a weirdly opaque calculation, unlike the score when I was at school, which was simply the sum of your top four subjects plus ten percent of any extra subjects. But that’s not the weirdest part. The weirdest part is all the stuff it doesn’t measure.
We place so much weight on the ATAR, using it to determine the university courses students can access, as though a heavily exam based mark is at all relevant to their future careers. We give it a wildly undeserved reverence, yet it is missing so much that’s profoundly important.
I know a student who overcame extreme social anxiety to sing in front of his peers at a school camp, and become the front man of his band. Where is that in the ATAR?
I know a student who had major surgery TWICE in year 11, missed 40% of their classes, and maintained their sense of humour through insane pain levels. Where is that in the ATAR?
I know two students who wrote software in year 11 to help a cancer researcher level up his research. They continued to work on it in year 12, but they were advised not to put too much time into it, because they needed to focus on what really mattered – the ATAR.
I know a student who overcame severe depression and anxiety to sit her exams even though she felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. Where is that in the ATAR?
I know a student who blazed a trail for trans folks in his school, battling ignorance and transphobia to create a better school for the trans students who followed. Where is that in the ATAR?
I know students who solved real world problems, built communities to support people in need, worked minimum wage jobs at night throughout year 12 to support their families financially, wrote music and performed with their bands in festivals, supported their friends through crises, or worked to reduce their school’s carbon footprint. None of which you can see in their ATARs.
Which students would you choose to have with you in a crisis? Students with a high ATAR, or students who showed compassion, creativity, and problem solving skills? Students who are good at sitting exams, or students who show determination, persistence, and integrity? Some of the best people I know never finished school at all.
I don’t mean to say that students with high ATARS haven’t also done all of those things. But the quality of a human being can never be measured by a number, especially a number based largely on exams and tests.
The sheer intensity, grit, and persistence required to found a startup, the passion required to create a spectacular piece of music or work of art. The compassion, empathy, and wisdom required to manage a diverse group of people. The fierce determination to tear down a broken system and build a new one that empowers people to survive and thrive. None of these things can be represented by a number.
So to all the year 12s I know, remember this: One, two, or five years from now, the ATAR will not show on your face, or in your achievements. Though the system invests it with undue weight, it cannot determine your path, or your worth. You have done amazing things that the ATAR cannot see, and you will go on to do incredible things that the ATAR could never predict.