It's that time of year when our social media feeds overflow with schools proudly celebrating their matric results. We see stats depicting pass rates, university exemptions, distinctions, and where each of the top achievers placed relative to their peers.

For those who achieved it, it is a momentous milestone reached after years of hard work, sacrifice, and determination. For the schools that produced the achievers, it is the ultimate feather in their caps. And the parents are slowly releasing a breath they have held in for 12 years or more. And rightfully so – it wasn't easy.

But what about everyone else? Some are also just relieved that it's over. Many matriculants did their best and are walking away very pleased with a perfectly respectable result despite the absence of fanfare. Others are experiencing disappointment, despair, and hopelessness, wondering what is next.

It's given me a lot of food for thought. Before I started my writing career, I had been teaching for nearly 20 years. I taught Grades 4 and 5 for most of those years, which is an interesting time in a child's academic life. When I see the matric results of children I taught years before, I realise that their time with me was just as instrumental in how they fared as their final years in high school. And so were their preschool days. It's all relative, but not in a way many would think.

The fanfare we see at the end of the journey has resulted in massive pressure and expectations being placed on children and schools before they even start grade one. And the pressure is always focused on academics.

In the beginning

One morning, during my commute, I saw a billboard advertising an 'academic preschool.' It's what got me tugging at this particular thread. What could they possibly mean by 'academic' when their pupils were aged between three and six? Of course, I'm well aware that the intention was to highlight their focus on early literacy and numeracy, and it's what their potential clientele want to hear. But it also drove home something that made me feel quite sad. It was when I realised that many people confuse academics and learning. They are very different, and when the latter is adequately nurtured, you are more likely to succeed in the former.

For the most part, the school system focuses on the end result. And that's because good results make the system look good. But what about the children? This is why those who work with children during their earlier years have such an important role. I've taught many 10-year-olds whose parents pulled their hair out with their child's poor work ethic. But I always knew when I could assure them their child had everything it took to thrive as they matured. And I was usually spot on. Because I knew the child loved learning, they found school mundane. Once they could focus on areas they loved, gained a bit of maturity, and realised they needed to consider where to next, it just kicked in.

But I also knew when it was coming from somewhere else. Sometimes anxiety was standing in the way. Sometimes they had an underlying learning disability. Sometimes they were working hard, doing well, and getting a consistent 73%, but their parents wouldn't accept less than 80. I've seen it all.

Then there were those who arrived in grade one, nailed every possible academic achievement all the way through, and needed a box to carry their trophies away from graduation. On the other hand,  some loved school, always did their very best, and enjoyed the social side – but they didn't necessarily achieve academically. Even if I consider my own schooling. I was one of those that hated every minute of it. I did what I had to do and got through, but it completely stifled me.

Fitting the box

I have been fortunate to take on a balanced perspective of the difference between academics and learning based on my experience. My son, who is almost 19, just didn't fit the academic box. He is what is known as twice-exceptional. This means he is intellectually gifted but also has a learning disability. His severe dyslexia prevented him from learning to read along with his peers when he started school. In fact, even today, he probably reads at a grade 2 level.

Unfortunately, our school systems don't see past the disability. When a 9-year-old passionately discusses their take on the spacetime continuum or how the perfect political system could be built by taking just the right elements of capitalism, socialism, communism, and democracy, people find it endearing. Still, he is not considered an academic if he can't complete his maths problems in his workbook.

And when a seven-year-old listens to audiobooks written for young adults with perfect comprehension and critical responses, it's considered 'smart.' But the academic awards go to the child who mastered their sight words and could read the grade level book aloud. It's a flawed system.

I taught at a gifted school for eight years. Every child I taught was formally identified as intellectually gifted by relevant professionals. But many of them would never have been identified as academics in a mainstream environment. Most of them had come from mainstream schools where they struggled to cope. But it's more because the focus on academics smothered their love of learning. If they find the content boring and not within their realm of interest, they will not care.

And before we start rolling our eyes and saying they need to live in the real world, remember that most of us have chosen a career based on what interests us. For example, you will seldom find a talented artist who chose a career as an accountant. By the same account, it's unlikely that you will see a gifted mathematician or scientist who spent 40 years running a catering business. But we need the artist and the caterer as much as we need the accountant and the maths boff.

And that's precisely where I am going with this. We absolutely need to recognise the outstanding achievements of our matrics who stood out. They worked hard, and it paid off. The world is their oyster, and they can march ahead without apology. Moreover, they were educated in a system that recognized their talents and could accommodate their learning styles.

But to the square pegs – those who needed a system that recognises other definitions of talent, ability, and aptitude. Your time is coming. You are more likely to get your turn to shine now that you have come through.