Well, September 1996 seemed like the beginning of any other school year for me. I had come off perhaps my best year ever, Grade 10, where I averaged in the mid-nineties in my classes and had a hell of a lot of fun. When Grade 11 (or Year 1) began, I was not alone in the new crop of IB students. About 45 others had come for the IB Program, and about 20 or so had signed up to run the gauntlet to earn the Diploma.
The school that I attended, Abbotsford Senior, did not offer a wide range of courses, and due to this, I ended up with my Higher level courses being History, Physics and Chemistry. History I didn't mind, Chemistry I could stand (until Organic Chem in Year 2) and Physics, then there was Physics. This class was the primary reason that the IB class size diminished drastically throught the two years. Test marks would roll in, and the students would drop like flies.
At the end of Year 1, the number of Diploma students had been cut in half, and four more would come to their senses in the summer, leaving seven of us left to begin Year 2. Many of the Diploma students who dropped one class went on to drop all of their IB courses rather than get a certificate.
Out of those 7, 6 actually got the Diploma, me being one of them. I was very surprised at learning that I had actually earned it, as I had figured that I would have never come close. Oddly enough, I didn't really care if I didn't get it by then. I think I was numb. However, once I did find out that I got the Diploma, I had a brief feeling of pride.
It didn't last.
At graduation, when all the scholarships were being handed out to athletes, I glanced at my fellow IBers and hearkened back to the initial meeting three and a half years previous when I was told that universities and private organizations would be giving me money hand over fist. I had visions of myself at one of the future meetings, praising the wonder that is IB. I now know what pure terror feels like.
Finally, to add insult to injury, I didn't receive the IB Diploma until October, four months after I completed the program, and it was misprinted, so I had to wait even longer before actually getting the correct Diploma. In a fit of sanity, I threw this letter together and e-mailed it to IB Headquarters. I guess they're used to getting things like it, because they simply told me to go see my IB co-ordinator.
I guess IB made them numb too.