Yes, I Managed To Pass The Eleven Plus
Updated: Oct 2
Reborn at Eleven: My Encounter with the 11+ Examination
The 11+ examination was introduced in England in 1944 under the Butler Education Act. Its purpose was to determine whether a child would attend a grammar school, a technical school, or a secondary modern school. By 1976, the system had been phased out in most parts of the United Kingdom, although some regions continued to use the examination for grammar-school admission.
When children were approaching their tenth birthday, they were expected to prepare for this formidable academic ordeal. Preparation involved a battery of practice tests, followed by the final examination—the results of which could appear to determine the course of one’s academic life. No pressure, then.
The 11+ was created, and continues to exist in a few schools, for several reasons:
Assessment of aptitude: It evaluates a child’s abilities in areas such as English, mathematics, verbal reasoning, and non-verbal reasoning, helping to identify academic strengths.
School placement: The results determine the type of secondary school a child may attend, including grammar, secondary modern, or technical schools.
Emphasis on ability: The examination was originally intended to assess skills rather than socio-economic background, offering opportunities according to merit.
Transition to secondary education: It marks a significant stage in a child’s education and can influence their educational trajectory for many years to come.
My tenth birthday was in 1958, which meant that I was duly subjected to this intellectual sorting process. At that time, I was secretly harbouring two major fears about my future.
If you have been following my posts—which I am sure you have because clearly, you have nothing better to do—you may remember that I was already a keen musician. Beethoven was my hero. Unfortunately, one of my greatest fears was that I might become deaf like him. This would have been a considerable inconvenience for an aspiring musician, rather like a promising swimmer developing a fear of water.
My other major, and largely unspoken, fear was that I might fail the 11+ examination and be sent to an ordinary secondary modern school, where practical, hands-on skills were especially valued. As many of you will know—or may already have guessed—my hands-on abilities were, and remain, more than limited. I struggle to assemble a sandwich without written instructions.
Colleagues in the professional field of education, along with anyone else interested in the subject, will recognize that the 11+ system has both advantages and disadvantages, particularly when children are being assessed and categorized at such an early age.
The advantages
Tailored education: The examination assesses students’ abilities and places them on educational pathways considered suitable for their strengths, thereby encouraging a more personalized learning experience.
Academic focus: It encourages high academic achievement and motivates students to work hard in their studies.
Selective schools: It provides access to grammar schools, which traditionally offer strong academic teaching and resources for students with particular abilities.
Early identification: It can reveal a child’s strengths and weaknesses at an early stage, allowing for targeted support and development.
The disadvantages
Pressure and stress: The examination places considerable pressure on young children and can lead to anxiety and stress.
Inequality: It may increase educational inequality, since some children have access to private tutoring, extensive preparation materials, and other advantages that are unavailable to others.
A narrow focus: It places considerable emphasis on examination subjects, potentially limiting the breadth of the curriculum.
Possible misalignment: Examination conditions do not always reflect a child’s true abilities, personality, potential, or likely success in a different educational environment.
Yes, all of that is true. In my case, the section on “pressure and stress” was not merely a theoretical possibility. It hit me like a ton of bricks—and, on at least two occasions, manifested itself in the form of fainting at school. On another particularly memorable occasion, during morning assembly, I projectile-vomited over my best friend.
That should give you some indication of the emotional tranquility I was enjoying at the time.
Eventually, the day arrived when my best friend and I received our 11+ results. He remained a very close friend until his recent death, which makes that period even more poignant in retrospect.
After the summer holidays, in September 1959, we began our new academic lives at Longton High School. The school itself was preparing to celebrate its two-hundredth anniversary, having been founded in 1760. Thus, we were not merely beginning secondary school; we were entering an institution with two centuries of history, tradition, and rules designed to ensure that boys did not become too comfortable.
The school consisted of several hundred boys, ranging in age from eleven to eighteen. We were divided into houses, following an old English educational tradition. The houses were named after notable people associated with Stoke-on-Trent. If you're not familiar with them all, google and AI (or as it became in the USA today, SI, thanks to Trump's ego-state fusion), are wonderful tools for a little extra education.
Josiah Wedgwood
Arnold Bennett
John Astbury
Sir Frank Mitchell
Sir Oliver Lodge
James Brindley
Hugh Bourne
All first-year students were automatically placed in Bourne House. This seemed particularly appropriate. The school’s crest featured a phoenix and carried the motto Renascor, meaning “to be reborn.” We were, therefore, about to be reborn into the customs, expectations, and traditions of a two-hundred-year-old school.
It was all very symbolic. It was also sometimes rather intimidating.
The first rule was simple: school uniform had to be worn at all times, including the cap. Any deviation from the approved appearance was likely to result in the writing of hundreds of “lines”—sentences beginning with “I must” or “I must not”—or, alternatively, detention.
Detention was a common form of punishment. It could involve writing lines, staying behind after school, or attending for a couple of hours on a Saturday morning. The most serious punishment for an offence was caning. It is interesting to imagine how that would be received today. In those days, however, one’s main hope was that the school would not report the incident to one’s parents. If it did, there was a reasonable possibility that a second punishment would be waiting at home.
One sentence I still remember was assigned to students caught talking in class:
“I must learn to lock the lips of loquacity with the keys of contemplation.”
This was to be written several hundred times.
I suspect that every student in Bourne House learned the meaning of loquacity very early in their secondary-school career. It immediately gave me a new word to describe Papageno, a character I had encountered several years earlier in music lessons at junior school.
If you know anything about Gestalt psychology, you may appreciate what an excellent example this was of its theories. The whole experience—the offence, the punishment, the language, and my personal associations with Papageno—formed a rather satisfying psychological pattern. Another piece of the concepts-jigsaw was put in place.
Ironically, the teacher who assigned this punishment was my English teacher, Ken Lowe. He later became a profound influence on my life and was the kind of teacher I eventually wanted to become. It is curious how the people who challenge or discipline us at one stage of life can sometimes become the people who inspire us most deeply.
My rebirth also included French lessons. Every student had to learn French, and I was destined to study it for the next seven years, alongside English and music. There were other subjects as well, of course, including physical education—and, more specifically, rugby. This was something I had to cope with rather than something I naturally embraced. You may have read about that particular adventure in my earlier post, “It’s Over.”
Surviving my rebirth into Longton High School presented many challenges to an eleven-year-old. There were examinations, unfamiliar subjects, strict rules, punishments, uniforms, caps, French verbs, and rugby. Somehow, however, I survived.
Whether I emerged fully reborn, academically transformed, or simply better at avoiding trouble is open to debate. But I did make it through that first uncertain year—and, considering the fainting, the vomiting, the looming threat of the 11+, and my limited practical abilities, that was no small achievement.
I was now ready to join one of the school's main houses. At the end of that first year, I was told that I would be moving into Bennett house, named after Arnold Bennett (1867-1931), a local novelist who wrote 34 novels, 7 volumes of short stories, 13 plays and a daily journal of more than a million words. Any wonder that the seeds of my interest in literature started to sprout?
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The Present
As I write the above, I am putting off the final details of preparing for my next adventure. Today I visited the surgeon who recently operated on my prostate. He's more than pleased with my status. So am I.
I'm mostly packed and have managed to get everything for a month's vacation into a smaller suitcase than I normally use for long trips. I've very proud of myself. Now it's time to mop and vacuum so that the house is left in some sort of order for the two wonderful friends who between them will be staying here and keeping check on it. I know I won't have time to do the dusting.
The Near Future
October 1st: 2026: Flying to Heathrow for an overnight at the airport then on Saturday, I'll fly to Athens, Greece. After a couple of nights there, Joel and other friends will meet me aboard the Brilliance of The Seas for a week-long cruise to a couple of Greek islands, Turkey and Cypress. Then back to Greece for a few fun days in Athens. I'll then fly to England where I'll relax and enjoy time with family and friends until the beginning of November.
Great writing. I really think you could find the time to dust. XO john
Great blog. Have a great vacation. Buddy is in great hands. See you when you get back safely.
It sounds like many of the US schools are trying to repeat the classic pigeon holing of students via test results. We just don't learn from history. Have a great trip!!!