`I'm a great fan of Kavanagh QC on television." So what has this to do with CAO offers, I muse. I have learned not to interrupt an anxious Mum in full flight. "After a day spent trying to sort out my son's offer I turn on the TV to enjoy my favourite programme only to discover that it is offer time in the Kavanagh household, and Matthew has just received disastrous results." Maybe I'm lucky that my son is studying blondes rather than offers after watching the trauma one disgruntled teenager can cause his parents. Having duly empathised with the problem facing the Kavanagh QC household I focus on Mary's problem: "May I view his scripts for him?"
Me: "No Mary, you can't," "Do I accept the offer he got in round one?" Me: "Have you any idea, Mary, if he would take up this offer if it was the only one he got?" "It is his 7th choice, and I feel he put it down just to make up the 10 offers."
"When will he be home from Kos?" I ask hesitantly. "The day after the final day for accepting offers in round one."
And so the conversation proceeds. But mums will always see the humorous side: "I was tempted to send him a card today with `Viewing of scripts, re-checks, first round offers. WISH YOU WERE HERE'." The percentage of students not available during the last weeks of August was as great as ever. Fathers came right into their own this year. They were inclined to focus on the financial aspects of third-level education: "If my daughter repeats her first year in another college will we have to pay fees?" "Do we have to pay the college levy if we are eligible for a grant?" "Are there any figures available on how much money it takes to keep a student at third-level living away from home?"
The enquiries concerning UCAS places were down on other years. Is this a sign that having to pay fees is having an impact, or does it just mean that applications are of a more genuine nature? It could also mean that students appreciate that there are more places and a greater variety of courses available each year through the CAO.
"Sorry I didn't get through to you yesterday. It took so long to get through that I lay down on the bed with the phone beside me and fell asleep. Is it possible to bring a camera with me when viewing the scripts?" Me: "What would you want to do that for?" "I think it would be a great way of discussing the paper further with my son when we got home." Parents think of just about everything.
"How can I be sure that I do not get my number one offer?" Stunned silence. "Do you mean you have changed your mind since July 1st?" I opine in trepidation.
"I got work experience in a hospital during July and the experience turned me off physiotherapy for good." " Would it not have been better to have had your work experience during the Easter break?" I ponder.
"That would have meant missing my revision course." Ignoring the logic of this answer, my interest focused on how this bright young student thought she would avoid her first preference. "Quite simple," she chirped. "I have been given my second choice. I will avoid having any of my subjects re-checked so, my question is, can I be certain that my strategy will work?"
Unfortunately this student's dilemma is not unique: "Thank God I got through can you hold on a minute while I get my son?" Sounds of hurried steps on a stairway and "thumpthump" on a bedroom door. "I have the man from The Irish Times on the phone." Sounds of a minor altercation. "Can I phone you back the lazy lump is in the shower?"
The saddest tales of all relate to students who have performed better than expected in their Leaving Certificates, and are now confronted by a variety of courses they would be considered for if they had put their choices down in order of preference. How many times have we heard John McAvoy, the genial manager of the CAO, warn: "Do not play the points game."
But like so many words of advice they fall on deaf ears. Even though the absence of students from their homes at offer times has become a reality, mothers will defend their offsprings' right to a late summer holiday: "Sure he worked hard all year and he deserves the break." Or: "All her class booked in March, so how could I say `no'?" Or: "He phones me every night with instructions." One such parent depending entirely on these nightly instructions on how to accept an offer was stunned by the latest call from an obviously lovelorn daughter: "I have just met this gorgeous jazz musician who feels I should defer my place for next year," the daughter reported. "I am just demented what should I do?" the mother this time.
"Get a whole new interest in jazz, Mum."
`Hi Dad, could you check the code for courses in the Institute of Technology in Tralee?" Dad: "What's the problem?" Son: "The gang with me here believe I have a place in Tralee, when I applied for Tallaght." Incredulous Dad: "How can that happen? He has mistaken the course codes and he had a chance to check them in May." I wouldn't like to be at Dublin airport when that plane touches down from Kos.