I am 16 years old. I have a thirst for learning and always have done. Recently, though, something has gone wrong. GCSEs have become harder, A levels even more difficult, and the expectations of staff and students have soared.
Like other Year 11 students up and down the country, my friends and I are now in the midst of sitting our formal mock exams.
Today is the first: physics. It definitely is not my strong suit, but neither am I terrible at it. I can’t fault the standard of teaching I have received - all things considered, we have been lucky. However, as I open the paper, I feel close to laughter at the sheer impossibility of it. I have no idea what to do. None at all.
I flick through, not once setting eyes on a question I feel capable of. My content knowledge isn’t the problem, but the difficult wording of the questions. Comprehension has never been an issue for me, yet I feel out of my depth and unable to access the content.
Sitting in the exam hall, I feel taken aback by how very pointless it all is. Many students around me are slumped forward in classic “I despair” poses: head in hands; or worse, head on desk. They look defeated.
‘Enough is enough’
I persevere for about an hour before giving up and putting the pen down. Enough is enough. I’ve run out of things to think and worrying myself into oblivion will be of little use.
When it is finally all over, being told to remain silent until we step out of the hall is like being told not to think about pink elephants. There are plenty of head shakes, mutters and grumbles from students. As my row is dismissed, I catch the eye of several students on the way out. They all look helpless. These are not just lazy teenagers who can’t be bothered; they are children being bombarded with new content - much of which is former A-level content - who are stressed and exhausted by the pressure.
It hurts to see how demotivated my friends and teachers are - my teachers especially. They do not do an easy job. We students aren’t here by choice, but the teachers are. They are on the frontline of all the pressure and still they stay. To stay in the profession, despite everything, shows a level of dedication to the students that is nothing short of admirable. I see it and I appreciate it.
‘You have a voice’
People who are fortunate enough to be detached from the education system often dismiss the stress as “just GCSEs”, because things used to be different when they were at school. This lack of understanding feels insulting - teachers are forced to step up and perform, and so must students. It is harder for everybody. Nobody gets to sail along anymore, and it is certainly not an easy environment to be in.
These people affect the system in more ways they know. Even if you’re out of it, you are very much in it. You will probably know of someone who is a teacher, who spends hours of their free time marking and preparing and emailing and worrying. You might know a young person about to do their exams. Talk to them. Listen to them.
Every single citizen who has a flicker of compassion in them has a responsibility to speak up. 15- and 16-year-old students are going through huge changes to the exam system without so much as a say. But you have a voice. You can vote for a government that will start to put us first; for a curriculum that will match the individual and not just create a production line that stamps each student with a grade. You have the ability to change things, to reach out, to find us an education secretary who cares.
So please, for the sake of my friends and my teachers, and for me: do what you can to help us.
Mili Fretwell is a Year 11 student based in West Yorkshire