Reflect

Beside me, half-asleep, is my science-minded husband, who patiently fields my late-night questions: “What will happen when the sun dies? “, “Do Stephen Hawking’s theories on black holes still hold?” or, “Does the universe have an edge?”

I realise these are the kinds of questions a child might ask, and that they are not easy to answer. When he does attempt an explanation, it usually involves physics or maths well beyond my GCSE understanding. Still, the curiosity is there.

The recent NASA Artemis II mission to circumnavigate the far side of the Moon has reignited global interest in all things space-related, and rightly so. This is the first crewed mission to travel beyond Earth’s orbit in more than 50 years, carrying four astronauts on a ten-day journey. (By the way, all these astronauts are within my own age bracket, which I find oddly encouraging). Last week, they travelled over 250,000 miles from Earth, conducted experiments, photographed the far side of the Moon and witnessed an “Earthset” (watched our planet slip behind a lunar horizon). They then headed home at a speed of 25,000 mph (let that sink in). Now that is quite a week at work!

Over the last week, I have found myself drawn not only to the images sent back, but also to the human responses surrounding the Artemis mission. Families watching their loved ones leave and achieve something legendary. One moment really tickled me: a daughter celebrating her father, Victor Glover’s piloting achievement in the most Gen Z way imaginable, through an exuberant social media dance (gaining 21 million+ views on TikTok). Elsewhere, Victor’s Dad described his chest “puffing right out” as he watched his brilliant son beam in from space: the first man of colour to live onboard the International Space Station for a long-duration mission. Incidentally, those of us interested in the academic trajectory of our astro-pilots might like to learn that Victor possesses no less than three Masters’ degrees!

I loved seeing engineer and Artemis commander, Reid Wiseman showcasing his daughters’ friendship bracelets from outer space and the fact an 8 year old’s design featured in the mission. Little Lucas designed a plushie called ‘Rise’ that operated as a zero-gravity indicator, so when it began to float aboard, it visually confirmed “transition into microgravity”.

The inspiration for young women considering careers in space and STEM has never felt more tangible following this endeavour. I’ve loved reading about the Chief Flight Director for Artemis II, Emily Nelson. As a High School student, she enjoyed athletics and was a member of the Maths and Computer Science Club and (drum roll) the Latin Society!

For me, this mission has proved deeply inspirational and motivating in so many ways. Our planet may sit surrounded by darkness, but this mission reminded us of its glorious uniqueness and beauty. More than that, this mission reminds us of what it is to be human, the joy of being loved and in loving others, pride in parenting and the value of science and maths education. Lastly, I think the Artemis adventure allows us to feel collective pride in other humans’ extraordinary aspirations and accomplishments.

Motivate

At the start of the Easter break, I felt a growing urgency to establish some kind of “revision routine". My son was a little less concerned at that point. Our “launch sequence” (sitting down to revise) was plagued by delays: urgent cereal-based refuelling, extended bathroom breaks, and ongoing negotiations about the viability of sleepovers during study season. It took time and a fair amount of recalibration, to find our rhythm.

For teenagers facing multiple exams, the sheer scale of it all can feel daunting. A few simple approaches can help. First, as adults we need to regulate our own emotions. It is natural to feel frustrated or worried - but staying calm and encouraging creates a more supportive environment. Next, support your teen to break tasks into manageable chunks. Keep it simple: what subject might they focus on today? Which topics within that subject? How long do they need on a particular task? How will they check their understanding? It may not be a bad idea to support them to starting with areas they feel more confident in as this can help build momentum and some confidence. Stay positive and encouraging in word and deed. Supply them with their favourite snacks, provide them with new stationery/pens/pencils that ‘feel good’, remind them that you are proud of their persistence and progress. For some teens, it takes real courage to open a book, to look at what they really need to do, so simply getting started is something to applaud.

Every child is different, of course. They have their own personalities, strengths and ways of coping. What works for one may not work for another, even within the same family. I see this clearly with my own boys and, if I am honest, it has required me to reflect on and adapt my approach. There are moments when we get it wrong; we push too hard, speak too sharply, hover too closely, or don’t do enough. It is a process of trial and error. Over these past few weeks, I have found myself learning again, noticing what helps, what hinders and when guidance is welcome.

For example, my son really didn’t want a calming walk around the block on revision breaks. Instead, he preferred a gym visit with his brother. He liked to skip the big breakfast I thought would be beneficial in the mornings and instead noted that he thrived on a mid-morning brunch. As our teens begin to find their own revision rhythm, part of our role is to respect that process, even when it looks different from what we consider ideal.

Alongside this emotional support, I believe that there is also a great deal parents can quietly do to ease practical pressures. Speaking as someone who helped support my teens through 30+ exams within a six week period last year (GCSE and A levels), I advise parents to make sure all exam dates are carefully noted in the family diary now, that you know which exam board your teen has for each subject (this tends to become important!), and that you have considered transport options for them on days when they might have exams with a later start time. I also strongly advise that you find a way to be at home on key mornings and if you can’t be, find a relative who can, ensuring no alarms are missed, that they do eat something before they board the bus and that anything forgotten can quickly be delivered to school.

Early checking of equipment is important. Do calculators have working batteries? Are they familiar with the school’s exam etiquette? For parents of hay fever sufferers, have you thought ahead to seasonal solutions? (Big tip: make sure they don’t use medication that causes drowsiness!).

There is already so much for young people to hold in mind during this period. By quietly managing these practicalities, we create a steadier, calmer environment in which they can focus and potentially perform at their best.

Support

She worried about what was 'wrong with him’, what she was ‘doing wrong’ and felt entirely stuck and fed up. She was normally a very calm person but could feel herself ‘losing the plot’ with her son. I really felt for her, which is why I offered her a little coaching chat. Woman to woman. Parent to parent. We sat across the table from one another. We laid every piece of evidence out on the table. We wrote down every subject her son was doing and rated his progress. She had also asked him in advance of our chat how he rated his progress too.

Together, we ‘zoomed out’, and took an objective look at what we knew about her son. Where did his strengths lie? Where and when did he seem to struggle? We talked about and evaluated what she already tried, what had worked, and what hadn’t. Through the conversation, I was able to understand other factors missed in her first rushed email; teachers ‘had mentioned’ he could be autistic, he had been bullied last year by peers and suffered from low self-esteem. She also noted he seemed to respond better to male rather than female teachers and reported he was happiest when cooking.

These ‘other factors’ to my mind were significant in understanding his mindset, level of motivation and could help us think of some goals moving ahead. My job wasn’t to tell this lovely mum what to do, but to support the brainstorming. As she stared down at our mind map and scribblings she said, “You know I think he has made some progress in that subject since last year”, “I forgot to tell the Head of Year that he is not comfortable in a particular seat in that classroom”, “He actually gets on really well with an older boy next door who could help him with his maths maybe?”

We talked about basic things that could be beneficial; starting with caring and curious conversations with her son about where he was doing well and exploring with him why that was, ensuring he felt comfortable at home and in school (why did he find English Literature so stressful. Was it the subject? Was it the classroom? Was there something about the way he was being assessed that made it feel particularly arduous? She talked about how she could help her son advocate for himself and share his insights with teachers. She liked the idea of asking certain people in her child’s life to support aspects of his learning. The older student next door, who occasionally played footie with him at weekends, and who was excelling in his A Levels, could he be a motivating mentor?

We talked about parenting styles at home. Was there a particular way of talking to him that appeared to increase pressure which her son experienced as demotivating rather than encouraging? Mum disclosed that, as parents, they were on totally different pages. Her husband kept telling him off “for being lazy” whereas she believes he was fundamentally just anxious. Her husband thoughts his wife should leave him to it and if needs be “let him fail”, but her intuition was that that was a bad idea.

It is my personal belief that every single child can do well, but sometimes learning progresses at different rates. Sometimes, it takes time to figure out how to support them and we just have to stay committed to helping them.

I can think of so many children over the years that had been consigned to the “not so academic pile” but ended up doing very well, thank you very much, once adults around the child could validate their feelings and experiences, adapt the nature of their support, and pay greater attention to the science of learning. The harder a learner struggles, the more we as adults need to explore, innovate and think ‘outside the box’.

Every child is different, but every child needs someone to care, to champion them and to take the time to help them puzzle out how they might strategically navigate an exam system that is broadly inflexible and often extremely demanding.

Yes, at the end of the day, all students have to take ‘responsibility for their own learning’ and ultimately, they sit the exams, not us, but that doesn’t mean we can’t convey the message that as a family, we are “in it together” and that they are loved, not for their exam marks but for who they are as a person. An exam result is a simple snapshot on one specific day of one person’s performance. Let’s remember it isn’t an assessment of a person’s inner qualities, spirit, character or capacity to be kind. A little bit of perspective can help us maintain an important sense of balance.

Astronauts often speak about the perspective shift that comes from seeing Earth from afar. As Reid Wiseman reflected, it reminds you “how small we are, and how deeply connected we are too.” For all that distance those men and women travelled, what mattered most, it seemed, was who was waiting for them when they returned.

Perhaps that is the perspective we need in exam season, because long after the papers are finished and the results opened, what endures is not a grade, but the knowledge our children carry with them, that they were supported and never alone. Hopefully, later in life, they can reflect on experiencing the kind of love that doesn’t measure, doesn’t withdraw from disappointment, and doesn’t depend on quantitative outcomes. Love, to the moon and back.