Tea Stains and Daisy Chains: exams

What have I been writing recently?

17:00

Can the effect of today’s education system on young people be likened to the identity loss of the individual in dystopian literature?

15:41

This may seem like a bold statement, not least a controversial one, but let me explain.

The whole point of dystopian literature is of course to highlight potential flaws in society and allow the reader to reflect on the world. However, it is unlikely that either 1984 by George Orwell or The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood were written with the view to being compared to the education system in the 21st Century.

The title I created for my A2 English Literature coursework claimed that ‘The purpose of dystopian literature is to dehumanise the individual’. I then went on to discuss this view in relation to the two novels mentioned above. In the introduction, I began by distinguishing three factors that, in my opinion, define a human being (simplified of course for the purpose of the essay), which were individual identity, freedom and dignity. Whilst I’m not going to sit here and argue that the experience of students in the UK today is undignified and compromises freedom, I can’t help but notice some similarities when it comes to the loss of individual identity.

On many levels, students today are encouraged to ‘be themselves’ and create a personal identity through pursuing their interests and goals. But does this really match up with the huge emphasis placed on exams, grades and success? As I explained in my previous post, I feel as though the pressure of school, sixth-form in particular, caused me to lose myself, or perhaps never even find myself. In other words, in some ways, school seemed to stunt my personal growth. Many of you reading this will probably completely disagree, as I’m sure most people experience the opposite. It is undeniable that school is full of opportunities and experiences, which have the potential to inspire and motivate young people. However, I do believe that it doesn’t always work like this.

In my essay, I explored the significance of the names of both Winston Smith (1984) and Offred (The Handmaid’s Tale). The character’s lack of individuality is reflected in the commonplace ‘Smith’ and the possessive ‘Of Fred’. My name is of course Harriet, although during my time at school, I couldn’t help but feel that I was defined by what I did, rather than who I was. For example, while the head teacher may not have always remembered my name (perfectly understandable), I was ‘The Runner’. In the same way, to many of my peers I was ‘The Clever One’, or ‘The One Who Always Has A Spare Pencil’. I was known as the girl who always seemed to be going up for awards in assembly. But of course I wasn’t the only one; girls (and boys) like me are everywhere, in every school all over the country. I speak only for myself, however, when I say that I was hiding behind these labels, as empty and ‘vessel-like’ as Offred. I had no time for personal growth and development when every moment was taken up with trying to succeed, both academically and physically. “Surely you’re expecting too much; your identity lies in your studies and interest in sport?” I hear you ask. The truth is, I wasn’t particularly interested in my studies, because everything I learnt seemed to be for the sole purpose of passing an exam, rather than for the enjoyment of it. On the rare occasion that something did grab my interest, we had rushed onto the next topic before any real flame had been ignited. And as for doing research in my own time on these subjects? No way was I going to spend the precious few moments of ‘my own time’ looking into something that wouldn’t be in the exam! Of course, much of the ‘A’ Level content is interesting, yet is compromised by the fact that we seem to be learning for the sake of learning. In the days before each of my exams, my one wish was to ‘get all this information out of my head!’ Walking out of the exam hall, I felt complete relief at being able to just let go of all the facts and figures I’d been so desperately clinging on to for the past few months. Is this really what education should be about? Sure, almost a year on, I can remember the vague overview of the A2 Psychology course. But if someone gave me the exact paper I sat, I’d wonder how on earth I even began answering the questions.

If it seems as though I’ve gone off on a tangent, let me bring you back to the point. I gave everything I’d got to those exams, in order to keep myself covered by the label that said I was ‘The Clever One’. What would be left of me if I didn’t get those A*’s? I had nothing to fall back on. This was made even worse when I gave up running around exam time because the pressure of training and revision had got too much. Then, when the exams were all finished and I had my A’s and A*’s, I emerged, bleary-eyed, feeling as though I’d spent the last year or two in a dark cave. I realised with horror, that without the safety of my label-identities, I had absolutely no idea who I was. And here I return to the title of this piece; my identity was lost (or perhaps never allowed to form) because I was driven by the need to succeed at the things I was known for: academia and athletics. I believe that this drive was partially fuelled by the competitive nature of today’s society and the emphasis placed on exam success by the education system.

Unsurprisingly, I can’t offer any ground-breaking solutions. What I can say, is that if I were to do my time at school again, I would be more aware of life after sixth-form and exams. I would invest time in doing activities that might be irrelevant in the classroom, but would leave me with more than just the letter ‘A’ at the end of it. If I could go back, I wouldn’t look down my nose at my friends who seemed to spend more time ‘having fun’ than revising. I don’t know what the perfect balance is between the two, but I do know that those friends are now coming to the end of their first year at uni and I’m sitting at home trying to pick up the pieces.

Harriet x

exams

Stop the conveyor belt! Or better still, get off the conveyor belt.Actually, just turn around and run in the opposite direction.

23:27

There’s always going to be the odd glitch in the system. But why does it have to be ‘odd’? And why does it have to be a ‘glitch’?

A Good School + Hard Work = Good Grades = University = A Good Job + A Good Life. It’s a simple equation, right? Wrong.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pinpoint the moment I stepped onto this conveyer belt towards ‘A Good Life’, but I can probably hazard a guess at the exact moment I threw myself off. Leaving Durham University after five weeks, I thought my life was over. How could a ‘bright’, ‘conscientious’, ‘hard-working’ student who finished sixth form with two A’s and two A*’s drop out of uni? Surely university was made for people like me!

Looking back on it now, eight months later, I have no idea why anyone thought I was ready. Sure, I had good grades and enough extra-curricular activities under my belt to share around and then some, but I could barely make my own dentist appointment, or even order food in a restaurant. At the age of eighteen, I had never had a job interview, let alone a job. This wasn’t through laziness though; I was so focussed on getting the perfect grade, or the fastest time around the athletics track, that I thought the life experiences could wait. I told myself that university would be the making of me; who cares if I can’t order a Chinese takeaway now? As long as I get that A*, everything will work out.

Of course, for many people it does work out that way; they ‘find themselves’ at uni and emerge as beautiful butterflies, ready to take on the world. But not everyone. In the few weeks before I was due to leave home, I think a part of me realised that, somewhere along the line, I had been boxed up and shoved on to this conveyer belt, heading towards a life that wasn’t for me. But what could I do? I couldn’t understand these feelings, let alone express them to anyone. So I turned in on myself and just got on with it. The result? Me + University= Five Blurry Weeks of Hell.

For young people today, it seems as though something is only worth doing if it is going to lead you to that next step. You choose the GCSE’s that will allow you to choose the ‘A’ Levels that will allow you to go to university. Now, of course this is a huge generalisation, as many schools and career’s advisers are keen to stress that university isn’t for everyone; that there are apprenticeships and various other pathways to take. But in my experience, if you’re a straight A student, university will be for you, and anything else will be aiming below your potential. This is all very well, as long as you know what you want to do with your life. I have always envied those people who are determined to do anything it takes to become a doctor/ teacher/ lawyer/ whatever. For these lucky individuals, their pathway is somewhat clearer and perhaps that equation ending in A Good Life and A Good Job may just about work out. But what about those of us who find ourselves stuck behind a pile of prospectuses, trying to write the first draft of a personal statement about our ‘passion’ and ‘enthusiasm’ for a subject we only picked because it’s A Good Degree? “Just find something you’re interested in!” is a phrase often tossed in the direction of students like me, who don’t know what career they want. Every time I heard this, I wanted to scream “But I don’t know what I’m interested in! I’m not interested in anything!” Of course not; I hadn’t had a single second free to discover the thing (or things) that truly get me excited. Every moment of every day had been squeezed and twisted into something productive, that would apparently lead to a glorious end point, making all this determination and hard work ‘worth it’.

Having been home for six months, I look back on the girl hiding alone in her dark and dingy room at university and wonder who on earth she was. I’m not saying that everything is perfect now, because it’s really not, but I’m gradually getting to know the real me, as I’ve finally got some time to investigate and try out different things (and actually get a job!). Who knows, I may well end up studying for a degree, but this time it will be in a subject I am actually interested in, rather than something that just looks impressive.

So, what is the point of this post? It’s really to say that if you can identify with anything you’ve just read, don’t be afraid to just stop, take a step back and re-evaluate things. As several people have pointed out to me, leaving was actually the brave thing to do. In many ways, it would have been easier to stumble along for four years, getting on with being the face of the ‘perfect student’, whilst silently screaming from behind the mountains of books. But why should I have to do that? I shouldn’t. And neither should you.

Harriet x

What have I been writing recently?

Can the effect of today’s education system on young people be likened to the identity loss of the individual in dystopian literature?

Stop the conveyor belt! Or better still, get off the conveyor belt.Actually, just turn around and run in the opposite direction.

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