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The Truth about education and the illusion of knowledge, "Were we taught just forget?". |
| “Exam“—a simple word that sends shivers down the spine of students worldwide. The mere thought of it brings an overwhelming sense of dread, forcing us to abandon everything else as the day of reckoning draws near. Yet, despite knowing its importance, some of us find ourselves trapped in a paradox. Our minds scream at us to prepare, warning of the consequences, yet our hearts remain indifferent. We possess the knowledge but lack the will to act. I was one of those students. And chances are, you were too. The Countdown to My 10th Board Exam It was March 5, 2020—the day of my 10th board exam. A milestone, a test that was supposed to determine the course of my academic journey. I had a solid month and a half to prepare. My school had already given us time off to study. The world was beginning to whisper about a looming crisis—the COVID-19 pandemic—but at that moment, all that mattered was my exam. I had everything I needed: time, resources, and the awareness that this was important. Yet, something inside me resisted. Instead of opening my books, I made excuses: “There’s still time. I’ll start tomorrow. Just one more episode. Just one more round of this game.” My mind rationalized every delay, while deep down, I knew I was setting myself up for disaster. “Stress” Then, January slipped away, and suddenly, it was February. Panic crept in. Time was slipping through my fingers, and I had nothing to show for it. On February 17, I made an effort. I sat at my desk, determined to finally start. I pulled out my math book, opened the first chapter, and stared at the numbers. My mind went blank. I didn’t understand a thing. Math had never been my strong suit, and now, the mere sight of equations overwhelmed me. My gut told me, “Maybe math isn’t the best way to start.” So, I did what any expert procrastinator would—I closed the book, opened YouTube to “relax for a while,” and just like that… another day was gone. A New Perspective on Studying Two days later, reality hit me like a freight train. I had only 16 days left. No more excuses. No more time to waste. This time, I picked up an English book, hoping it would be easier. The first chapter was a detective story—a gripping tale about a man searching for a missing girl. As I read, something strange happened: "I enjoyed it". For the first time, studying didn’t feel like a burden. I wasn’t forcing myself through dry, lifeless text. I was engaged. It felt natural. And that realization shattered everything I had been taught. “Isn’t studying supposed to be boring?” “Shouldn’t I be stressed, exhausted, and overwhelmed?” I had grown up watching movies where students sacrificed sleep, fun, and even their health just to score high marks. I had seen classmates pull all-nighters, cramming textbooks like their lives depended on it. I had heard parents and teachers say, “If you don’t study 12-13 hours a day, you won’t succeed.” But if studying was supposed to be miserable, then how did great minds like Einstein, Tesla, and Newton make discoveries? If math was so tedious, why did mathematicians dedicate their lives to it? If literature was boring, why did writers and poets create works that have lasted for centuries? The answer was clear: they loved what they did. It wasn’t about mindlessly memorizing facts. It was about curiosity, passion, and enjoyment. Are We the First AI? People say robots were the first artificial intelligence. But isn’t it ironic? We were the first AI ourselves. From the moment we enter school, we are programmed like machines. Information is fed into our minds, and we are expected to store, recall, and regurgitate it on command. Understanding and critical thinking take a backseat to memorization. The education system functions as if everyone learns the same way. If a student struggles, the system doesn’t adapt—it labels them as “slow” or “dumb.” But here’s the truth: everyone learns differently. Some understand concepts through visuals, while others need hands-on experience. Some thrive with structured study plans, while others learn best through discussion and exploration. Yet, instead of nurturing individual strengths, the system forces one rigid method onto all students. And those who can’t keep up? They are made to feel like failures. Education Shouldn’t Be a Trap Education isn’t about blindly memorizing facts for an exam. It’s about: Understanding concepts, not just repeating them. Encouraging curiosity, not suppressing it. Recognizing different learning styles, not forcing a one-size-fits-all method. Helping students discover their strengths, not punishing them for weaknesses. If a student struggles in one or two subjects, does that mean they are unintelligent? No. It means their talents lie elsewhere. Instead of discouraging them, we should help them grow in areas where they excel. Education should be the tool that illuminates a child’s path, not something that pushes them into darkness. Breaking Free from the Fear of Exams The fear of exams isn’t just about the test itself. It’s about the way we’ve been conditioned to view education. We are taught to chase marks, not knowledge. To believe that grades define our worth. To think that success is measured only by numbers on a paper. But what if we change that? What if we approach learning with curiosity instead of fear? What if we redefine success to include creativity, innovation, and real-world skills? What if we create an education system that values understanding over memorization? The fear of exams won’t disappear overnight. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time we start changing the system. Final Thoughts If you’re reading this and feeling the weight of exams pressing down on you, know this: you are more than your marks. Study because you want to learn, not just because you’re afraid to fail. Find joy in knowledge, and you’ll never have to “force” yourself to study again. Because in the end, education should empower you—not break you. By: Robrayl (AJ) Writer’s note: “If I don’t understand once, I’ll try again. If I still don’t understand, I’ll try once more. But if I still don’t get it, I’ll at least ask—why? Effort alone isn’t everything; understanding the ‘why’ matters too. Maybe it’s not about me—maybe it’s about them." |