Dear Editor,
It’s me again—Mommy V—armed with a strong cup of coffee and a heart full of frustration….. Let me cut straight to it: What are we doing to our children? Today, I’m penning this letter to address a topic that has become the bane of every household: the academic overload and the glorification of “achievement” at the expense of our children’s well-being.
Gone are the days when kids played hopscotch or sol-out after school or giggled over Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew books. Instead, our children are drowning in a sea of extra lessons, weekend classes, mock exams, and stress-induced meltdowns. We’ve replaced childhood with a race to nowhere. Sports, hobbies, and downtime have all been sacrificed at the altar of academic excellence. When was the last time your child came home sweaty from a game of cricket or sat under a tree sketching their dreams in a notebook? These days, every free hour is gobbled up by lessons.
We’ve normalised a system where children wake up before dawn, shuffle between classes, lessons, and extra lessons, then collapse into bed at an unearthly late hour at night just to wake up and do it all over again. And why? To prepare for four days of exams that will supposedly determine their worth, intelligence, and future. Parents, let’s be real. When was the last time you had to recall the capital of Uzbekistan or the types of soil erosion at work? If you can’t answer that, then maybe—just maybe—it’s time to question why we’re asking our kids to dedicate their precious childhoods to it.
The headlines always read the same: “Local Student Passes 20+ Subjects with xxx Grade Ones!” Cue the standing ovations and tearful interviews. But if you zoom in, you’ll see a teenager with tired eyes, a hunched back, and zero time to enjoy the simplest joys of life. When did academic overachievement become the only thing we celebrate? Who are we trying to impress? Let me tell you what’s not impressive: a child who knows every formula in chemistry but doesn’t know how to manage their emotions or handle failure. A child who can recite the Pythagorean Theorem but has never felt the thrill of scoring a goal, performing on stage, or solving a problem outside of a textbook.
Here’s the ugly truth no one wants to admit: quantity doesn’t equal quality. A student with 22 subjects is not “better” than one with 8. A child doesn’t need to be a walking encyclopedia to succeed in life. Where Is the Balance my fellow Guyanese? We are raising children who can ace exams but can’t handle rejection. Children who know how to study for 12 hours but don’t know how to make friends. Teenagers who rack up passes but burn out before they turn 20. It’s a tragedy, and we’re all complicit. Let’s stop pretending this madness is normal or admirable. Let’s demand better: Focus on Core Subjects: Every child should master the basics, but beyond that, let them explore their interests.
Prioritize Mental Health: No exam is worth a nervous breakdown. Normalize breaks, hobbies, and playtime. Celebrate All Achievements: Got 5 subjects and a solid bowling average? That’s success. Found a passion for coding, art, sport or carpentry? That’s success too. Call Out the System: Teachers, parents, policymakers—stop glorifying these numbers. We need an education system that values quality over quantity. Parents, if you’re clapping for a child with 20 plus subjects, I hope you’re also checking their mental health. Teachers, if you’re pushing 3-hour-long lessons, I hope you’re also teaching kids how to think critically, not just regurgitate facts. Policymakers, if you’re using these numbers as proof of progress, I hope you’re ready to answer when this overburdened generation asks why they’re so unhappy.
Our children are trading their youth for grades that may or may not secure their future. Let me tell you, employers aren’t looking for people who can ace 20 exams—they’re looking for creative thinkers, problem-solvers, and team players. You know what teaches those skills? Living life. Playing a sport. Working through an art or carpentry, hands-on project. Learning resilience from losing a game and coming back stronger. It’s time to hit the brakes and remember: childhood isn’t supposed to be a rat race. It’s supposed to be joyful, messy, and full of lessons that no exam can teach. Let’s do better. Let’s demand better.
Sincerely,
Mommy V