I’m not stupid. Once upon a time, I was clever. Really clever. In fact, when I left primary school, I recieved an award for outstanding achievement. As I’ve gotten older however, I feel more and more like a little fish in a big sea. At AS, I got AAAB. By no stretch of the imagination is that ‘bad’, but it can be considered it. When your best friend has applied to medicine at Cambridge, and you’re good friends with the three people in your school who took the BMAT exam, it’s really easy to feel stupid. Don’t get my wrong, my friends are great, but sometimes you can’t help but think ‘what if?’
I’m under more pressure every day. The ‘clever’ people can take that, but I can’t. I’ll crack. I work for my grades. Super hard. I just don’t stop, I panic, I work, I panic, I work, I panic, I work. And exams stress me out. Why? Because it’s just so easy for me to fail. Clever people don’t fail. And they don’t have to work hard. But I’m not clever, I’m not like my friends. I HAVE to work, or I’d fail. And there is a heck of a lot of my future resting on the shoulders of how much I work. Because failure leads you nowhere. In the twenty first century, failure means that you have no life. There is no way out.
Is it fair? Is it fair that we face this much pressure in today’s society? That the school policy is to contact home if you’re getting a C in your mocks when a computer system somewhere is telling them that you should get an A. And that system calculated that based on your postcode, number of siblings, primary school, parents jobs, even year two SATS results!
I don’t think so.
Living. Laughing. Loving.