A mark one way or the other defines them perhaps for the rest of their lives.
It defines firstly whether they enter into a decent academic programme, if that is their desire, but also what trade they can undertake, what job they may get after school days are over.
Many will say it prepares children for what is coming, competitiveness in the workplace, striving for success, being the best you can be and all that drivel.
In some ways, the system is not as cruel as it used to be, thankfully.
School Certificate or NCEA1 as it is known now, was a make-or-break time for most children right up to the late 1990s.
From the setting-up of universal admission to secondary education in New Zealand in the 1940s until a relaxing of some rules in the late 1990s, fifth form or Year 11 children faced the challenge of obtaining enough marks to move to sixth form, Year 12.
In the "good old days", many children left school at 15, knowing they will never achieve any form of academic success; and many stayed, had a crack at "School C", failed and then left - usually quietly ashamed and facing a life of, at best, shop work or factory work.
Some of those who failed, self-included, trotted back for another crack the following year, labelled in a derisory term as second-year fifth formers, seeing their friends who succeeded - friends they had maybe been right through school with - advance to sixth form and the privilege of studying for University Entrance or NCEA2.
It was personally humbling to have to share a class with children a year younger due to "failing".
Failure for most who actually went back was usually a matter of a few marks, enough to know it was worth having another go. It was humiliating though.
Of course, most then passed with flying colours the following year and got on with things.
Many never forget the experience, though. It was the system then and, thinking back, I guess failure did teach children the realities of life.
In those days many teachers were not, perhaps, as approachable as teachers are nowadays.
Not much support or advice was offered, certainly no encouragement.
Mind you, those were the days when the cane and detention ruled most classes.
I suspect many teachers who liked to bash children found it difficult to then turn around and offer kindness, but that's another article.
So for the past three years, at this time of the year children all over New Zealand in Years 11, 12 and 13 are locked into assembly halls or gymnasiums sitting exams, looking out the window in an attempt to recall some small fact or point that may lead to success, seeing the late spring weather and thinking of weeks of leisure time or school holiday work coming up.
Some know it's their last year at school - next year they are off into the wide world, university, polytechnic, trade training, career training, perhaps a "gap year" to find themselves.
Some are hoping to come back next year for more of the same but at a higher level.
Parents will be quietly hoping things go well, as most parents want their children to succeed in life at whatever level they achieve.
Some believe the concept of these exams is no longer relevant with the different teaching styles and technology now available.
I am not sure I agree. I would have preferred not to have failed as a 16-year-old but I learned a lesson, that diligence and application do pay off - laziness not so much.
I still meet some of my classmates who returned with me for that awful second year as fifth formers.
All have done very well but all still recall that first failure as a hugely significant event in their lives.
Some to the point of anger at the system, most just shrug their shoulders. Resilience was a quality harshly learned for some.
