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AT THE END of the school year I got to thinking about my own public school experience. Two things stand out - first, the threats I got from big sixth-graders that they would take me, a forlorn first-grader, "up to Anderson." That meant the principal of Sherman Elementary School. Fortunately, I was spared that ultimate embarrassment.

The other threat I vividly remember came from teachers that if I did something wrong, "IT WILL GO ON YOUR PERMANENT RECORD."During all those years I frequently worried and wondered about that elusive, frightening PERMANENT RECORD. What was in it? What terrible things did teachers say about me, and who would find out? What were the chances that some day it would ruin my life?

So I called Olympus High School and asked for it. I thought they might say, "Are you kidding? Permanent records are mythical." Instead, an official said, "Sure, it'll cost you a buck." So I picked it up, but it was disappointing - just a single sheet containing grades from my last year of junior high, high school grades, my attendance record and my class ranking.

That's it. No health records, no test scores, and no nasty notes about my past sins. When I asked Olympus officials about it, they said that's all anyone gets. It suddenly occurred to me I could have had a lot more fun in school with fewer worries.

Olympus lacks room for more than that, but potential employers still call to inquire about student records, and officials continue to verify attendance and graduation.

I also picked up Marti's permanent record, because she graduated from Olympus too - earlier, of course. The official who gave it to me said, "Did you know she was NUMBER ONE IN HER CLASS?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I knew that." But I was surprised to find her I.Q. test results were included as well. Apparently there is little consistency in the inclusion of test scores on permanent records.

I tried to get my record from Olympus Junior High, but they have no records dating beyond 1968, which lets me out - and Sherman School doesn't exist any more. Granite District houses none of my records. So I'll never know my I.Q. score - probably just as well.

I made some inquiries of educators about this record thing. Lora Whiting, who was a teacher in the Nebo School District for 27 years, says the permanent records she saw often included "narratives of students' accomplishments," some with derogatory comments.

But Clark Stewart, a counselor at Springville High School for 20 years, says all he kept was the single sheet. He remembers a lot of anecdotal material being generated about each student, but "if a teacher had a grudge against a student and put negative materials in the files, we soon chucked it."

Ron Hitchcock, the new principal of Payson High School, says "the horror stories" are in separate disciplinary folders that never go to the high school and are destroyed when a student leaves the school. A typical permanent record, he says, includes grades, attendance and an immunization card. Even such heinous activities as "sluffing" will not go on anyone's permanent record.

Dean Collett, a Highland High counselor, keeps a single sheet including elementary grades through high school. He says comments about students for administrative use are kept on computers "for our eyes only." He doesn't remember any I.Q. scores popping up for at least 15 years.

Sorry to burst your bubble. You can relax - and tell your kids their permanent records are destined to be surprisingly slim in content - and some of them may not even be permanent.