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.

In January 2008, when our youngest was just 3, he started at the nursery school that would become his primary school, and which would feed into his senior school. 13.5 years ago he was a chunky little toddler, full of mischief, but also very full of his own opinions, with one of his favourite phrases being ‘yes, but…..’. He is now 6′ 4″, very full of his own opinions, and is about to finish compulsory education, and in 2 weeks will finish year 11.

Covid made last year very difficult. The then Y11s finished school at Easter, and their grades were based on school assessments and algorithms, and then after the public outcry when results were issued, they were based on teacher grades. It was awful for the students, and for their teachers.

Fast forward to 2021, and this year is worse. The current Y11s have had at least 2/5 of their taught terms online, and 1.5/5 interrupted by isolation, bubbles and distancing, which means only a term and a half have been ‘normal’ and pre-covid. This final term where they would normally be on study leave has been assessments, assessments and more assessments as teachers desperately try to gather the information needed to give grades that will pass inspection by the exam boards in June and July.

This year’s cohort spent from March to the end of the summer term last year doing online learning while teachers tried to get to grips with Teams, Zoom and working from home. Some students had all the gadgets they needed, others didn’t have laptops, tablets or wifi. The summer term was a bit of a disaster even though teachers and students worked really hard to make it work.

In September, summer exams were definitely going ahead, with slight adaptations to curriculum so that the load would be a little lighter. In October exams were definitely going ahead, no centre assessed grades would be needed, but there would be a reduced curriculum which would be announced at the end of January. In sciences, formulae and equations would be given to the students to make the exams a little fairer. In December with cases rising and hospitals preparing for another wave and businesses preparing for another lockdown, exams were going ahead.

At the beginning of January, less than 6 months before the exams, schools were staying open and exams were going ahead. Just 3 days later, schools were closing for at least half a term, and exams were cancelled, but iGCSEs were going ahead. In February iGCSEs were cancelled too.

Schools didn’t open until mid-March, and some schools had phased openings. As with the summer lockdown, not every student in Y11 had access to laptops, tablets or wifi. Not every student could learn.

Over the Easter break, JCQ and Ofqual released info to teachers about what was expected, just 3 months before the deadline of June 18th, but they also announced the appeals procedure, just in case it was needed. While teachers tried to make sense of the information, they also had to plan how to assess, and how to find the time to mark, cross mark and submit ‘robust evidence’ that was fair to their students, and also would pass external quality assessments by the exam boards.

This all means that now, at the beginning of May, just 6 weeks before deadline day, there are hundreds of exhausted teachers and students (and parents) who are still in the thick of it, and are still trying to make sense of it all.

For us, we have two weeks until our son’s assessments are done. Two more weeks of juggling revision and down time, making sure enough has been learned while not heading towards an overload situation. We need to keep the motivation and desire to do well there for the next two weeks, and this will involve study, revision, fruit and lots and lots of donuts!

This summer, on the 12th August, when my son and his peers open that envelope and get their results, I hope they are happy. I hope they are pleased that they got to this point in this shi*tstorm of a year. I hope they realise that to have got through the last 18 months is a huge achievement, but to have sat assessments and exams is something else. I hope they know that they can do anything after this year, regardless of what that results slip says. I hope they know that they truly are amazing, and the future is theirs to grab, and I hope they know that I, and so many other parents and teachers around the country, are immensely proud of them, of all they have done, and of all they will go on to do.

To most people looking in, I assume we look like a regular family, whatever that may be. People who don’t know us very well probably think that I am a helicopter mum who fusses too much, that I’m anti-social or a bit aloof, and they probably think we don’t spend enough time away from our children. If only it were that simple!

This is not a pity post – I have just belly laughed with both of my fabulous ND children (who are no longer children) on the way home from the dentist, and for about 20 minutes afterwards. We are an incredibly happy family, we laugh together, we cry together and we are very, very together. My autistic teen has the driest, darkest sense of humour you could imagine, and he is so sarcastic – and our kids rib and tease each other all the time. They also have each other’s backs. They can throw insults at each other, but no one else can.

My reason for writing this post, however, is that however regular we may seem when looking in, and whatever people who don’t know us may think of our parenting, looking out can be very different to looking in.

4 years ago today, the rugby club went on a mini tour to Coventry. It was the team’s first tour, and parents and grandparents could go along too. Most of the kids and parents had an amazing time, and their Facebook feeds are full of happy memories and photos of the first day of the weekend away. Mine just shows a log on to Wasps’ Wifi. I wrote a post about it while we were away, which you can read here.

A lot has changed in my view of life over the last 4 years. At the time I was upset, but felt you couldn’t plan a whole weekend away for one person – but now I disagree with that thought completely. To be inclusive and not be ableist, you need to make sure that what you plan suits everyone, not just the majority. What happened on that weekend away impacted our son. He did go away the year after, but didn’t really enjoy it – he tried to have a neurotypical weekend away with the rugby team, but he isn’t NT, and it wasn’t the success we wanted it to be. He didn’t go away two years ago, and even if the tour hadn’t been cancelled last year, he didn’t want to go on that either.

Looking in we may seem like everything’s fine, but looking out, your world is very different to ours – even if your world is full of neurodiversity. I have written so many times about your normal being different to our normal, so I’m not going to write lots about it here, but we need to be how different we all are, even within NT or ND communities.

If I could turn back time, I would talk to the tour organiser and point out that for something to be inclusive, it has to be organised so that everyone is included, all the time. If you need to put in rest breaks or down time for some, then everyone can have that downtime – all teens are happy to have an hour on their phones! In the same way, if one person needs there to be disabled access, you make sure you all go to somewhere with that access. We need to include everyone, not just give options for people who might not want to do what we want to do.

We went into the first lockdown 11 months ago. We’ve had 3 lockdowns, we’ve had tier systems and we’ve had so much online learning.

We’ve just had half term, although it hasn’t been much of a half term. The teen isn’t coping well. He doesn’t like online learning, he doesn’t want to leave the house, he doesn’t really want to leave his room. He is 16. He has spent most of the last year in some form of lockdown or tier system. He can’t go out and see friends. He can’t have friends to his house. He can’t moan about his boring parents to his friends. He can’t share teen jokes or have teen conversations. He can’t laugh with his friends – and he can’t argue with them, or fall out or be annoyed by people. He can stay at home.

I understand that there are lots of people really struggling with the worry of what the government may say tomorrow. Some worry we may come out of lockdown too soon, others that it will be too slow. Some don’t want schools to reopen as that can spread the virus, others want school to reopen as the children need to go back.

Imagine being a teenager in 2021. Imagine not seeing friends. Imagine not leaving the house more than once a day (because that’s the law, not because you choose to). Imagine sitting in front of a computer screen every day unable to eye roll at a friends when the teacher says something. Imagine struggling in a lesson but the teacher can’t see your slumped shoulders and so thinks you’re doing ok. Imagine every day being the same, the same four walls, the same conversations with the same people you see all day every day and have done for the past 11 months. Imagine those rebellious years when you are supposed to be taking risks and pushing boundaries spent sitting in your room. Imagine being stuck with your parents all the time with no break, no one to moan to about them and their older people ‘jokes’. Imagine not knowing what the summer assessments will be like, not knowing what to revise for. Imagine feeling so low and fed up with the situation you don’t want to revise or learn, you just want to sit in your room and stare at the ceiling. Imagine how hard it is for our teens in 2021.

I don’t want our son to be at risk. I don’t want him to bring Covid back home. I don’t want him to feel he is putting us at risk.

I do want him to have conversations with people his own age. I do want him to laugh and share teen jokes with his peers. I do want him to be annoyed by others in his year. I do want him to engage with teachers and learn to love learning again. I do want him to tell us stories about what he’s been up to that lunchtime. I do want him to be able to be a teen.