Yesterday was A Level results day, meaning I found out whether I was getting into university or not (and thankfully I did). I thought I would write a little post about my experience with A Levels and how I managed to get into uni with only two courses, instead of the traditional three.
First of all, I want to mention the courses I took and how I found them, the first course that I had my heart set on taking as art. Having achieved an A at GCSE I was able to take this as an option and thought that I would be able to achieve a reasonable grade, however this was the hardest and most mentally draining course that I had ever taken for my A Levels. I also took Photography, my school ran the BTEC instead of A Level as they saw it to be more suitable for the students needs while also being a valid course to get into uni. The final A Level that I took was English Lang Lit, which filled me with both dread and joy every lesson. AS wise, I took Media and dropped it. Now you have a basic understanding of what I took I can get on with this post!
I started year thirteen taking three courses, worked my ass off and began to feel so lost and empty. There were weeks on end when I would not be able to even get out of bed to make my way into school; the person I was seeing at the time would literally have to pick me up and drive me to school to ensure I arrived (and when he didn't I would just spend the day in bed). I think, all in all, I went to three months worth of classes out of the whole academic year. I would go to school and have no energy to even get off the common room sofas and therefore end up passing out on them sleeping for hours on end (which obviously lead me to miss even more classes). It was basically terrible, I was in such a bad mental state that I decided I needed to do something about it, after speaking to my GP we came to the realisation that it was school and the pressure of A Levels that was dragging me down so immensely.
That evening I had a meeting with my parents, art teacher/form tutor and head of year; I had come to the conclusion that dropping art was what was best for me both mentally and in order to get the grades I needed to get into university. (I feel as though at this point I should point out that I was lucky enough to have an offer from my first choice that was a C and a Merit and considering I was working at a Distinction in photography I knew I needed to just be able to focus on English.) Yet, this meeting didn't go to plan, I was told that I needed to continue to study art and that dropping the A Level was something that I would seem almost insane to do - and heres the thing, I was going insane because of art and I knew this - and therefore I needed to continue my lessons.
My teacher for the subject however, was the kindest most wonderful man and had taught me for the past five years. He knew something wasn't right and took me aside most lessons asking how I was doing, once I had opened up to him about being put onto anti-depressants due to the mental toll that the education system was taking on me he began to allow me to create what I wanted, guided me to make the course project mine and give it to me as a personal escape rather than a personal hell. I am so thankful to him, to the support he gave me and for not giving up on me even when I was giving up on myself and my art on the daily basis. Yet, I eventually realised that art really wasn't working out for me and ended up just not turning up to classes, and the same went for the exam. I spent all three days that I was supposed to be doing the exam in bed, feeling like a complete failure but also working so hard to convince myself that it was for the best, that I knew what was best for myself more than anyone else.
So, that's how I ended up with taking a single A Level and a BTEC. Over the coming months to exams I worked my ass off, taking so many photos, writing so many practice essays and generally becoming more involved in classes. Photography was the only class that I didn’t seem to miss many lessons of, any others were more of a miracle of I turned up than anything else. All in all, I think I went to about 8 of my Friday morning English classes, and that is the class I got the highest in.
The thing you need to remember, is that although I went through phases of being completely unable to even pick up my phone and ask for the school work I still had friends and support who were gathering my work for me, who gave me their notes and helped me catch up with everything I had been missing out on. I had phases of complete determination, but also phases where I couldn't even get out of bed and I am so thankful the phases of determination paid off. I would email my teachers and ask for extra essays, spend hours on end writing them and completely threw myself into my photography projects. The work that I put in paid off in the end, forcing myself out of bed and coming into school looking basically homeless paid off.
My photography course was based on three units each year, I ended year 12 with a distinction which I was lucky enough to know would support my grades in year 13. However my English course was a linear one (meaning that I didn't take an AS in it and relied entirely on my A Level grade for this) and therefore I was clueless as to where I stood with it. Due to not coming into class a lot of the time I never really showed my teachers whether I was actually progressing and they were obviously concerned about me and my ability to pass the exam because if this.
When it came to study leave I had already completed photography, I just had English to study for and decided to work as hard as possible to get my life on track. I knew that if I didn't get this grade I wouldn't be going to uni, and I wasn't about to allow my mental health deterioration to affect the things that I wanted to achieve. Everyday I would either read one of the set books, do practice questions and mind maps or have revision days with my friends. I ensured that if I was only going to be taking this one A Level (two sat exams) I was going to do it well.
And the work paid off, I got my results yesterday and felt an overwhelming sense of joy sweep over me as I read that I had achieved my English A Level and got a B. With my distinction in photography and my B in English I knew I had got into uni, I knew that everything I had gone through, all of the arguments where I had to convince staff members at the school and my parents that I was doing what was best for me by dropping my third A Level had been worth it. I have been to hell and back in this past year, I have had one of the biggest whirlwinds of life in the past few months and this just proved to me that silver linings exist.
I want to say a massive thank you to all my friends and family for supporting me, for giving me a kick up the ass when I needed it but also for supporting me and giving me the love I needed when things stopped going to plan. This next year is going to be a gap year for me, I am going to be writing a lot, I am looking into writing and publishing a book, I am also going to be travelling and working. It’s non stop for me, and it can only go up from here.
Here’s to me attending Ravensbourne in 2018.
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