By now most GCSE students would have had their results and felt very happy with them. For some, it will be tears of sadness that they didn't get the grades they needed to go to college/sixth form.
I remember that time – waiting for the postman to deliver my results and then the apprehension of opening the brown envelope and seeing that I had only passed RSA in typewriting. My mum handled it better than I thought. She said that I tried my best, and that is all that she could ask for. Passing the typewriting exam didn't feel like an achievement to me, as I didn't pass the necessary English and Mathematics. I went through part of the summer of '89, depressed. I felt that I was a failure. Luckily, I was able to retake the exams that I failed at my local college in September.
Looking back, I shouldn't have gone to the same college as my friends, as I spent most of that year socialising – I didn't pass, again! I was beginning to get annoyed with myself and was determined that the following year I would go to the same college to do what I was supposed to – study. I eventually passed the necessary GCSEs and was able to progress onto A levels - that is another story.
I found that failing my GCSEs was really not the end of the world and I wasted a good few summer weeks moping. It took me a while to be where I wanted to be, but I eventually got there. Everyone has their own path to walk, I just took a slight detour to get to my destination.
Poem reference: Why Shouldn't I Cry? – Change.
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