We have just finished a two week half term (something the school started about 7 years ago, and I think it’s a really good idea – this term always feels so long from a parent, teacher and student point of view), but last week was a long week in this house. Our youngest was feeling off. He was low, he was lethargic, and as keeping with 2021, we did a lateral flow test just to rule out Covid, and that was fine, he was just low.

I asked him if he knew what was wrong, and I tried very hard not to keep asking if he was OK and if he felt any better/knew what was wrong/wanted to do something/would come for a walk. He didn’t, he was kind of ok, and no to the rest. I did explain that we just have days or weeks when things feel crap, and that we just have a low mood for no apparent reason, but I think that was more for my benefit than his.

He had been invited to a friend’s to revise (first A-level tests this week), and then had been invited to a Hallowe’en/bonfire night party, and then he was going to an Anime-con at the weekend. I wanted him to do as much as he could manage, but not so much he’d start the new half term with a melt down.

There was much procrastination, sighing and shoulder shrugging, but then he decided he wouldn’t go and revise, and that he couldn’t go to the party – he just wasn’t up to it. He did, however, manage the Anime-con, and although he was socially exhausted when he got home, he enjoyed it. Our eldest took him, and he enjoyed it too, and their stories of the sights they saw kept us amused when they got home.

On top of this, our eldest had a publishing deadline (a bit of a secret project so I can’t say any more), but that meant that he needed my help last week. ADHD and dyslexia make any kind of project harder and more tiring, so I am on hand to type words, act as PA and do whatever else is needed. Amazingly (I have no idea how), the deadline was met, and all is good in his world again.

Last night, I felt awful, I was so tired, and felt almost hungover. Today isn’t much better. I had weird dreams last night, and didn’t feel at all refreshed when I woke up this morning. I have a mini burn out. Last week I was juggling their needs (and quite right too, I am a SEND mum, this is how it is), and my work. On top of that our dog is terrified of fireworks and so we had two dreadful evenings with him, and then I picked up 4 rescued ex-battery hens yesterday, and they are in a dreadful state. All that means that my cup is empty, I am out of spoons, I am done – but just for now. I need to accept that, and give myself a few gentle days just to refill. I will work, but I will also rest. I will do what I need to do, and everything else will wait.

I also need to listen to my own advice – as I told a friend, another SEND mum who’s having a tough time at the moment, parenting is exhausting at the best of times, but parenting additional needs takes super hero strength. So now I am going to hang up my cape for a day or two, and just breathe and rest whenever I can.

Three years ago, according to Facebook memories, our son (finally) got his autism diagnosis. He was 13 years and 11 months. The process took 3.5 years. I have blogged about it before, so I won’t go over that again (although if you’re interested, scroll back through past posts) but compared to some, that was a quick process. The NHS is overworked, and CAMHS and Children’s Services even more so, so I am grateful that our tenacity as a family and our son’s pushing to get the diagnosis he knew he had, got us to the 15th October 2018 and we had confirmation of what we had known all along.

Getting a diagnosis doesn’t suddenly make everything fall into place – we still battle, advocate and educate – but for our son it worked as a lens, so that people could see him rather than his mood, his mask, his scowl or his reluctance to get involved. For him, it has been a hugely positive thing, and he embraces his neurodiversity and his amazing mind, as does our older son with his ADHD.

I have blogged countless times about battles, wins, moods and so many other things, and I do acknowledge that there are many parents of neurotypical children who have been through the same. I blog when we have wins, I blog when we have bad times, and I blog when my mood necessitates me putting my feelings into words and sharing with you all.

Today, however, I am blogging to tell you that it can be ok. That there is a place for everyone, and when we find that place, the troubles don’t go away, but they get easier to manage. The summer GCSE results brought us the grades we were expecting; excellent grades in sciences and maths, ok grades in both English qualifications (and he got above the magic 4 so has level 2 English) and the other subjects were in the middle. This was an fantastic achievement, even more so as he is in the cohort of 2021, and it’s all down to his mantra of ‘work smart, not hard’.

He is now doing A-levels in biology chemistry and maths, as well as an EPQ which will centre around genetics. We had parents’ evening on Tuesday and it was amazing – not bragging parent amazing, but really amazing! He has found his place, and he fits perfectly. What mattered more than the glowing reports from the teachers, however, was that dyslexia, autism and anxiety weren’t mentioned at all. There was no ‘this is really good, but there’s an issue with spelling/organisation/processing/whatever’. He is doing really well. That’s it – period, full stop, end of sentence. He doesn’t need coping mechanisms, he doesn’t need to break down or overcome barriers, he doesn’t need anything more than his work printed on purple paper, because he is in the right place doing the right subjects, and it’s fabulous. This is how education should be – students taking subjects that inspire them, that they enjoy and that are delivered in a fully accessible way.

All students have a place – be that sciences, arts, vocational courses, humanities, music, sport, for example. When they are on the right course and being taught in the right way, things start to fall into place. A-levels aren’t right for everyone, and neither are apprenticeships, B-Techs, T-quals or NVQs, but there is something out there for everyone, and if we help them to find it, it really can be ok.

Our eldest is 25 tomorrow – he should have been 25 a fortnight ago if he had been born on his due date, and he should have been 25 today if he had arrived on the day I was admitted to hospital in labour! This characteristic has stayed with him – he will always be ready in 5 minutes, even when he needs to eat, shower and get changed, and wherever we are going is always 20 minutes away, even if it’s over 50 miles!

Our youngest will be 17 in 10 weeks, and driving lessons are already booked. He was a day early, even though the midwife told me that I would be waiting at least another week when I saw her 3 days before he was born – and he has kept this characteristic! He looks like he won’t be ready to go somewhere, but then from nowhere he’s standing by the door dressed and raring to go (although as a teen, that might be a slight exaggeration!).

Our children are amazing – we love their company, their chatter, their insights, their caring natures and their characters. Spending time with them has always been a pleasure, never, ever a chore. Even though they both have their difficulties, we wouldn’t change anything about them, but we would change the world and how it sees them sometimes.

We had a conversation at the weekend – or at least I posed a question. 25 years ago, when I was in labour, if we had been told about the severe dyslexia, ADHD and OCD and chronic kidney problem, what would we have done? And again, if we had been told 17 years ago that our rainbow baby would be autistic, dyslexic, have GAD and Irlen syndrome (as well as spending 2 weeks in SCBU ICU) what would we have done?

PANIC!

We would have panicked, doubted ourselves, expected the worst, and we would have probably treated them differently. It would have been much worse. Even if we had read all the books and spoken to everyone who knew anything, and searched online for everything we still wouldn’t have been ready, and we would still have been surprised, overwhelmed and completely unprepared.

If you have met, taught or if you are a parent to a person with ADHD, you have met that one person. The next person you meet with ADHD will be completely different. The same with ASD, anxiety, dyslexia, OCD and every other hidden disability you could list. Books help, support groups are amazing (usually), but nothing could have prepared us for our rollercoaster. And I think being forewarned would have made us much worse parents.

We may have expected less. We may have inhibited our amazingly eclectic individuals because a book told us something, or because they ticked a box (or didn’t tick a box) for something else. We may have not taken them on adventures because a leaflet said they wouldn’t like it or wouldn’t manage. We may not have been sarcastic to the teen because, you know, autism, and yet he is so sarcastic with such a dark, dry sense of humour. We may not have encouraged our eldest to play team sports because of how long games are, and would he concentrate for that long – and yet he had England County rugby trials when he was 21.

If we had known what was coming, we would have focused on the negatives and potential problems. If we had known what was coming we would have been really worried. If we had known what was coming we would have doubted ourselves even more than we have done. If we had known what was coming, we would have inhibited them, stifled them and they wouldn’t be who they are today.

Today we are blessed with two huge (both over 6′ 4″) giants who are just the absolute best. They are neurodiverse, and help us see the world in new ways, as well as having the most bizarre conversations and opinions. They bring so much happiness and joy to us, and are the movers and the shakers who touch everyone they meet, and who change the world for the better. The rollercoaster ride with them is awesome, and as they both become adults, we just need to hold on tight to keep up!

Everyone has things that they are good at (mine include writing rambling blog posts, and science) and things that they are not good at (for me, spelling and being tidy). We all know that, and we all accept that (although it can be hard to acknowledge our own strengths and accept our weaknesses). The education system, however, dictates that some subjects (maths and English) need to be taken until a learner either reaches 18 or reaches a certain level, and if that level isn’t reached, maths and English can then become integral parts of apprenticeships no matter how old the learner is. Everyone is expected to get a 4 or above at GCSE or an alternative level 2 qualification in English and maths. However, I feel that although that should be a good thing, it’s not always attainable. Some people just aren’t that capable in those subjects – but they will be far more capable of achieving other subjects.

As I have typed countless times before, both of our children have dyslexia, and although these categories or classifications aren’t used any more, one has severe dyslexia and the other significant dyslexia. This means that English as a written subject is tough for both of them. However, due to having a supportive family and access to different qualifications, they both have level 2 English, one with 2 GCSEs (literature and language) and the other with Functional Skills. They also both have level 2 maths.

Our eldest is a natural sportsman. Apart from paddle boarding, we have yet to find a sport he doesn’t do well in – everything from surfing to rugby to American football to cricket to shot put, he just ‘can’, and usually effortlessly. He is also incredibly musical, and has self taught a variety of instruments. Both of them are artistic, and both can use a range of media to create artwork. For them, art is relatively easy. I cannot do sport, it’s not in my nature – my hand-eye coordination is relatively poor, and I just don’t take competitive sports seriously. I am musical, although not like our eldest, and I am creative, but more with making than with fine art.

Our youngest is taking 4 A-levels in maths, physics, biology and chemistry. When people are told this, most of them wince or make a comment about ‘smart lad then’. Yes, he is – they both are – but these subjects play to his strengths. He is a scientist, he has a scientific and mathematical way of looking at the world. While this won’t be an easy combination to study over the next 2 years, it will be academically fulfilling for him. Already after a 3 week taster, he is enjoying the subjects more because they are harder than the GCSEs were. For him, taking English Language, English Literature and Drama would be hard subjects because of the way these are taught and assessed, and the subjects themselves – he doesn’t enjoy English as a subject and he is not comfortable in drama.

Whether we find a subject easy, hard, challenging or just impossible is down to our strengths, interests and motivation. It saddens me when I see reports about cuts in funding to art subjects – these are not soft subjects, and we need the dreamers and people with imagination to dream up new things and solutions to problems. Yes, we need scientists, we need doctors, and we need teachers and farmers and lorry drivers and shop workers and cleaners and everything else! But what we need most of all, I think, is people doing jobs that play to their strengths, doing jobs (or courses or subjects) that make them feel fulfilled and that make them feel happy.

Having level 2 maths or English, or having 9 GCSEs, or having a PhD won’t make you happy unless you are doing what you want to be doing. We need to stop ticking boxes and making people fit into societally decided round holes, and instead we all need to embrace our square peg-ness and do what we are good at, and what makes us happy – and then then world may be a much better place!

PS Yes, this is idealistic, but in these strange and scary times, idealism and optimism and hope are very, very important!

This week has had two results days – A-levels, BTECs, CTECs and other vocational quals were on Tuesday, and GCSEs are today. GCSE and A-level results days invoke really mixed feelings and emotions for me – my GCSEs were OK, but not as good as they could have been, and my A-levels reflected my recent discovery of pubs and alcohol, and it hasn’t always been easy going through it all again with my own children, and also with students.

This year has been especially hard (& last year wasn’t easy with the algorithm fiasco) because this year’s Y11s and 13s and BTEC students have spent more time learning from home or isolating than they have actually spent in the classroom. Add to that the ever changing guidelines from the DfE and Ofqual, and both teachers and learners deserve As just for getting to the finish line.

It is so hard, though, regardless of whether this week has brought distinctions, passes, As, Us, 9s or 1s, to have a whole course decided and graded into a number or letter. It doesn’t reflect the last two years or what they have all been through. It doesn’t reflect the determination and resilience to carry on, or the rationing of toilet rolls and bread 14 months ago. It doesn’t show how 4 people working from home trying to use Zoom in a rural location with poor wifi was a challenge (speaking from experience here), or how those who maybe don’t have or can’t afford broadband, laptops or printers did everything they could to support their children even when it felt impossible. Masks, distancing and bubbles came into effect when the students went back to school & college, but isolating bubbles just added to the unknown and the stress.

Then we had the uncertainty about how GCSEs, A-levels and BTECs were going to go ahead – they would go ahead as usual, then with an amended curriculum, then as assessed grades (which kept being changed) which added to teachers’ and lecturers’ workloads. There has been a lack of consistency in schools too, with some schools doing all the assessments at the last minute, others doing months of exams, and others just doing coursework and homework. None of this is the schools’ faults – changing guidelines and isolating students and teachers means that each school’s SLT had to make decisions based on what was happening in their school or college.

The media has been full of ‘higher grades again, blah blah blah’ which is unhelpful to all students. The high grades may feel like they mean less, and the lower grades may feel even lower. Another way to look at it, as expressed by the magnificent Michael Rosen, is that maybe the grades have been better this year because of the variety of assessments that reflects the variety of ways that students learn and so a variety of ways for students to impart their knowledge. Maybe, just maybe, we need a huge overhaul of education so that rather than testing more and more, we assess in different ways so that it’s not all decided in 3 hours at the end of the course. I don’t think replacing exams with all course work is the way to go either, but maybe a combination of both, so that all students have a chance to shine – especially in GCSEs as you could argue that for sixth form there are the options already for A-levels, BTECs or CTECs (although BTECs are currently under threat, which is another blog for another day).

Right now, though, whatever this week has brought you, please, please celebrate. Celebrate getting to the finish line in what has been the most horrendous 18m of education I have even seen in over 20 years of teaching (& that includes 2 years of termly Ofsted inspections). Teachers, lecturers, tutors, SENCos, TAs, admin staff, exams officers, students, parents, grandparents and carers, you have done it. You have got to the end of this horrendous ‘thing’, and you deserve a weekend of celebration. You deserve to breathe and relax. Sleep well tonight, for whatever this week has brought you, you are a winner!

I inadvertently upset someone on social media.  They had posted about achieving their Masters in Special Educational Needs, Disabilities and Inclusion, so I took that as an opportunity to start a conversation about SEND, ableism and the various things that run through my mind constantly.  Trouble is, that was taken the wrong way, and people thought I was pushing my own agenda.  I suppose I was, but not in the way people think.

We are a neurodiverse household. In our home, we have two dyslexics, one of whom has ADHD and one who is Autistic. I have ADHD tendencies (probably full ADHD but no formal diagnosis), which partially explains me hijacking a post about SEND, and my other half is ND too. When I started teaching, when our youngest was 4, I thought I understood SEND, I thought with my ongoing CPD and my ‘switched on, inclusive’ way of thinking, I thought I got it.  I thought I could put the appropriate coping mechanisms in place and it would all be ok.  Hey, I even let students fidget and chat through my lessons, how cool was I?

And then came our son’s dyslexia diagnosis (which went again what teacher’s had told us), and ‘problems’ in the classroom. He underachieved, despite ‘things being in place’. He struggled, he misbehaved and I started to advocate, to speak out and to challenge anything that wasn’t right for him. Son number two obviously had dyslexia, but, again, teachers didn’t agree, so we had to have him diagnosed privately (through Dyslexia Action, so all done ‘properly’) and things were a little easier for him than they had been for our eldest, but still not easy, and he was expected to learn coping mechanisms.

After their dyslexia diagnoses, came the battle to get the full picture, so find out what else was there. It took 6 years for people to finally accept that it was more than dyslexia for our eldest, by which time he was through formal education and thought of himself as a failure.  He had some amazing teachers, and fabulous support, but the education wasn’t right for him; he couldn’t adapt to what was expected, and so his mental health was, and continues to be, impacted by this.

Our youngest is autistic. We have always known this, but because we are an ND household, it didn’t show as much as it might have done – things were automatically put in place so that he didn’t have to cope or manage at home, but as he got older and more opportunities arose, it became obvious that we would have to try and get a diagnosis that people could use as a lens to see him better. It took almost 4 years and numerous trips to the GP, to CAMHS and to Children’s Services at the local hospital before he got what he wanted – a diagnosis to explain to others who he was, and to get people to change to adapt to his needs, rather than expecting him to change to conform to others’ NT expectations.

I have been advocating for 20 years now, from when they started formal education. I will always advocate, and listen, and drop everything to make sure I am there for them when others won’t be. I will stand by them as they state what they need, and I will encourage them to advocate for others too.  I now realise I knew nothing when I started teaching.  I knew nothing of battles in students’ heads, of parents crying themselves to sleep, of the struggles and constant worry, of the guilt and grief, of the daily need to make sure everything was as right as possible so that our children can exist in an alien world.  I was also ableist (blog to follow on this), and I was wrong.

Because I have been living the life of a SEND mum for almost 25 years, and because I have been enlightened and fighting and advocating for 20, I take every opportunity I can to have conversations, to engage professionals, to see what they have learned, to see what I can learn, to share ideas and to do everything I can to make the world a more equal, accepting and diverse place.  If this is pushing my agenda, then yes, I am guilty, but I can’t stop doing this. I am a SEND mum, I am ND and I need to keep advocating, keep pushing and keep doing everything I can to make this a better place for all.

I often write my blog posts when things are either feeling bad, or we’ve just been through something bad or when things have suddenly got better. Today is a day when things are, well, fine. The rollercoaster seems to have slowed down (for now at least), or the storm has passed and there isn’t another on the horizon, just yet.

It’s been a nightmare 18 months – GCSEs were always going to be tough, but throw Covid-19 into the mix, and it all got a lot tougher. Online learning, concentration issues, disorganisation, changing timetables, back at school, some students isolating, some teachers isolating, another lockdown, another return to school were all difficult, and then add to that the hoki-coki attitude the Government seemed to have with GCSEs (they’re on, they’re on but different, they’re definitely on, they’re off, teacher assessments (but we won’t quite let you know how yet), exam style assessments marked by teachers, exam conditions, homework, class assessments) and it’s been a mental health nightmare for us, and for many other students and teachers.

Assessments, for our school, had to be done by the end of May, and then they had 3 weeks off to relax and let the teachers do whatever magic they had to do with the assessments. They then had a 3 week sixth form taster at school doing the subjects they want to take next year, wearing suits or smart clothes, and with sixth form privileges (a slightly shorter day and being allowed out at lunchtime). The effect has been amazing. Gone is the stressed school boy who worried about everything and hated a lot of school, and in his place is a confident and content young adult who has loved wearing suits and coloured shirts (thank you Next Sale) and different ties, who has basked in the harder work and being extended and is almost joyful at no more English literature or language. It’s not like he’s taking easy options (although there are no easy options at A-level), as he’s taking 3 sciences and maths, but these are ‘his’ subjects. We don’t need to ask him what he wants to do when he leaves school, as he is a scientist – always has been. The question instead is which part of science do you think you’ll work in?

He had sports day, speech day, Y11 prom and a biology field trip all in the space of 9 days, and at the end of it, he did have a migraine, but before just sports day may have been enough to trigger a migraine or stress response. It is so lovely to see!

I imagine being almost 17 and hormones settling may also have some impact on this calmer person, and no doubt there will be issues over the next two years – we’ve been through further education with a skware peg before, I know the storms haven’t miraculously disappeared!

The purpose of this post is to just celebrate the content, calm place that we’re in right now. We have been through some horribly turbulent and trying times, and there were some situations it was hard to see a way through, but we stuck together, and we managed – maybe by the skin of our teeth, but we did it. And now we’re here. Two skware pegs (and two ND parents) who are content, and are exactly where they are supposed to be. Now, that doesn’t mean I can dye my hair or change our meals or wear new perfume, some things are set in stone, but right now, it’s all ok.

Whatever situation you may be in today when you read this, please know that it can get better, that the sun will shine again. Raising any child is hard, and raising a skware peg (or two) even harder. Sometimes the battles and problems just keep coming and coming and you feel like you’re drowning – we have been there, and it is unbelievably hard and exhausting. Sometimes just as you think you’ve cracked it, something else comes along and knocks you for six. Sometimes there is no help or no one to talk to (if this is you, please, please reach out to me on FB and message me via the page – link here) and the lows are so low you don’t ever think you’ll get back. We have been on this crazy rollercoaster for almost 25 years now, and the highs are higher than anything I can imagine, but the lows are lower, but I hope that reading this will make you realise that it won’t always be this way, and there will come a day when everything is exactly as it is supposed to be.

As I write this blog, today is Friday 18th June 2021. For anyone working with or in, or has anything to do with secondary or tertiary education (if that’s still a phrase), be that as a parent, student, carer, tutor, teacher, SLT, lecturer, TA or admin, today is THE DAY. Today is the day when this shitstorm of an academic year reaches its crescendo, and when everything everyone has been through over the last 15 months is all condensed down to a spreadsheet of marks, and a filing cabinet (or many filing cabinets) of evidence to back up that spreadsheet.

I feel very emotional writing this blog, and I am just a mum and a tutor. I don’t work in a school or college at the moment, I am no where near management or SLT or head of subject/area/faculty. I am just me, a tutor with one student who took two subjects, and a mum to a teen who took 8.

In 8 weeks, we will know what the exam boards make of the blood, sweat and tears that have gone into that spreadsheet. We will know that grade, somewhere between 1 and 9, that officially defines the last 18 months, on results day. The press will be full of condemnation however it goes. If grades are too low – boo to schools. If grades are too high – boo to schools. If the grades are exactly where they are expected to be – boo to schools. It’s a no-win situation for education establishments. It always is, mind you, but will be especially so this year.

I was the first year to take GCSEs, 33 years ago (had to retype that bit as I forgot how old I was!). Our grades, as a cohort, were good. Therefore, according the to papers, GCSEs were ‘easy’. Looking back I think that the schools all did an amazing job in changing an entire curriculum pre internet, when queries had to be made by phone or letter, and we did well, because the teachers rose to the challenge (as they always to), were supported by the admin staff (as they always are) and did what they needed to do – and this was shown on results day up and down the country in August 1988.

2021, however, is nothing like 1988. We are still in the grips of a pandemic. Schools are still having to isolate year groups – and teachers – when there is a positive Covid case. Schools have had to work incredibly hard during the pandemic, with teachers teaching online as well as face to face, they have had to deal with uncertainty and changing guidelines, and they have also had to deal with upset & worried students, and upset, worried or pushy parents.

So, here we are. 18th June. We’ve done it. We’ve got here. There is nothing else to do now (for parents and students at least, there are still lots of things for teachers to do & worry about as the results will all be audited by the exam boards). What’s done is done.

And the thing is, in August when the GCSE, A-level and BTEC students get their results, the world will only see a tiny bit of what they have done this year. They will see a grade, a mark, a decision. They will see something external to the students. What they won’t see is the amazing achievement it is to be here. To have made it through education in 2021. To still be smiling, to still have their friends, to just be. In years to come, people won’t be interested in their grades or how they were assessed, they will be interested in their stories of this year. People won’t be bothered if they did months of assessments or just a mad rush at the end, or if they did their assessments online, in person or as homework. That won’t matter. The students of 2021 will be asked what it was like, how they felt, if they were scared, if they felt trapped. How did they manage, was the toilet roll shortage as bad as people say, what masks did they wear, and so on. Yes, the grades will matter, but not as much as in other years. Our amazing teens have lived through a pandemic, the worst in living memory, They were trapped at home with us, they were learning online, they learnt skills that teens really shouldn’t have to learn – and their teachers and the support staff have been pretty amazing too.

I know it’s been hard, and we wouldn’t wish this on anyone, especially our teens, but they’ve done it. Let’s remember everything that everyone has been through, and whatever the results say in 8 weeks time, let’s celebrate the stories, the personal achievements and everything that they, and their teachers, have done.

We are done. GCSE exams that aren’t exams but are exams are all over for us – the most stressful academic year I have ever experienced is done (and that includes my first teaching year when the college I worked at went into special measures and had termly Ofsted inspections), and I feel…..erm….empty? I have a teen in Y11, I tutor some Y11s but I am self employed, so if I feel like this, I can only imagine how my friends and ex-colleagues working in schools, colleges and training companies must feel. My husband keeps looking at me and asking if I’m ok. My honest answer is that I will be.

The teen however, seems to be OK. He has had a remarkably calm few weeks of assessments. I was prepared for camping in the lounge, midnight migraines, 2 am conversations and anything and everything else that anxiety and stress can bring, but he’s been ok. The headaches have been there in the background, and we’ve let him do his own thing when he hasn’t been revising, and we haven’t put any pressure on him to revise, and this seems to have worked. Because of how OK he’s been, I was expecting a big release, let down or meltdown this weekend, but, again, he’s been fine. He is at a fab school with amazing teachers, and most of them get him, so that has been a big help. Has their handling of this year been perfect? No, of course not, but I don’t know any school that has. The changing Government, Ofqual and JCQ advice and instructions have been ridiculous, and there hasn’t been a perfect way to handle this, as this has been the opposite of a perfect year, but here we are, at the end of it, just about.

I’m showing my age, but my cohort were the first to take GCSEs in 1988, and I remember our maths teacher complaining about what we were being taught and how it wasn’t going to prepare us for A-levels (but I wasn’t taking A-level maths, so it didn’t bother me). Now, I can imagine how stressful that must have been, pre email, digital downloads and the internet. My teachers must have had any changes arrive by letter, and queries about guidance must have been either as a phone call and hastily written notes, or by post.

But, enough about me, back to the year of 2021. When I think about them and the impact that the pandemic has had on them and their education, I get very emotional. When they should have been out being teens they were stuck in with us. When they should have been at school laughing, joking, playing sports and moaning about parents they were stuck behind a screen with no face to face human interaction – and even the children of key workers or vulnerable children had a very odd experience. I do understand that it’s been difficult for them all, but for the current Y11s, 12s and 13s, it’s been, well, I don’t think I can express how bad it’s been, and no one can predict the long term impact this will have had.

I am also immensely proud of each and every one of them. They’ve done it. They’ve got to the end of their academic year, and as long as lockdown keeps lifting, they can have a relatively normal summer. I think results should mean less this year than in normal years – yes, it’s important that they get the grades they need for the future, but that’s it. I don’t mind if they get 9s or 5s or 3s, just so long as they can do what they want to do next, that’s all that matters. August 12th is etched in my brain and in my diary (& my phone) and we have rearranged a holiday as the results date changed, but whatever that paper says, they are all winners, they are all successes. They have got through the last 14 months, and they have got to the end. Grades may be higher, they may be lower, they may not be anywhere near where they would have been if Covid hadn’t happened, but the sun will still rise, the Earth will still turn, and they will still be the ones who did it, who got through ‘this’.

Class of 2021, you are amazing, you are incredible, and the future is whatever you want it to be.