EvAU, EBAU, PAU, ABAU, PEvAU, that is, selectivity

There are two parallel worlds, that of ordinary people and that of politics. Sometimes they are found, as happened this year in the university entrance exams, which we refer to by their full name in case we don’t understand each other with the acronyms. Well thought out, this could be a good question for future evaluations, since we are not there in time for this one: to put together each graphic abbreviation with its definition starting with those of the laws of education since the world is the world, is to to say, since this escriventa started the EGB and continued with the BUP and the COU, and ending with the capital recital also called selectivity. Why don’t we just call it that? Too selective.

(The idea for the acronym comes from a tweet by Y ese meteorito que no lega! alias).

In Valencia, texts by Primo de Rivera and Queipo de Llano were submitted for comment, and not in the archeology section. The generational question was as marked in the tweets as in the jobs that await future graduates when AI rears its head.

Some adults wondered if they couldn’t have looked for a more normal text, others answered that you need to know the story so as not to repeat it, while for the examinees the question was quite another: Which parts of the syllabus will appear in the test? If what is personal is political, in PAU what is political is personal because you risk your future on an exam. But how right Eva is: “The EBAU is a m… but enjoy it, because it’s the last exam in which you know what’s possible”.

The succession of tweets in which these young people show their fear, anxiety, desire for what has happened, or the fear of what will come, the subjects they know and the ones that give them nightmares, is endearing. Several generations have experienced the same thing, but venting was in a small committee, in the university cafeteria or on the stairs or corridors of the institute. Now the networks magnify it, but also relativize it thanks to the festival of memes in which they are the protagonists. Take a look, there you have them, naturally.

It is also normal, if not natural, that during the electoral period everything lends itself to facetiousness. For example, the tweet of the President of the Spanish Government wishing the examinees the best of luck, with answers like Irene’s: “If me dices lo que cae, te voto”, or Sergio’s: “Tomorrow I have an exam of electromagnetism, I wish you luck also”. “You have done a great job, there is only one last effort left,” concludes Sánchez. Anyone would think he’s thinking about something else…

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