At this time of year school days are seen to end in the UK as A level results are announced. Social media fills with congratulations from proud parents, and advice for those who face disappointment. Clearly some young people have goals they aim to achieve. I’m not sure I envy them that as my experience was different.
Early school days were not easy for me and learning felt a frightening chore at times. In secondary school there were opportunities and bright spots, contrasting with my teenage angst about life in general. The impact of that sense of doom was on my confidence. Though there were probably more places and people to turn to I didn’t recognise them nor appreciate their potential value.
I spent two sixth form years in Economics and English, and picking up Art. I was very inward looking and realise now I can’t have been easy to be around with at that time. Even so I know some cared enough to support and save me, and my relief at that is immense. Subsequent reunions that include teachers and contemporaries have reassured me. They’ve also shown how much I missed about the lives I had around me and what was happening to those folk. It feels selfish of me looking again at those times.
My A levels were failures, shaping the next few years and choices. Stepping away from school was going to be an uncertain path. This was a time of low confidence, having to rely on perseverance and the integrity instilled in me to take future steps.
16th century steps Córdoba
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