Thoughts

On exams

school

So it’s exam season and right now I’m 15 years old and somehow having a crisis. Exams are stupid and unnecessary yet completely justified because of the seemingly stable yet completely crumbling nature of our society.

If they were done right maybe we wouldn’t have such a big issue of teens having mental breakdowns, crying themselves to sleep, overworking themselves and getting close to zero hours of sleep each night.

The thing is, at such a young age we’re forced to think about our futures. We get teachers and respected adults asking us what we want to do in the future but all I want to do is be happy. Now I’ve somehow decided to do physics, maths and english A Levels but I know that had I done Art GCSE, my life would be going in the direction of art and music. That’s a huge ‘what-if’. And hurts to think that I would have been happier had I chosen to do art subjects. I still think that I won’t be smart enough for the A Levels I’ve chosen. That I would be happy doing them. And the thing is, feeling like you want to die is regarded as normal during exam season. Everyone wants it to be over right? Right?

You get two hours.

Two hours to pour your knowledge into that paper and if you don’t know the answer in those two hours, screw any chance of having a stable job in the future right? That’s what we’ve been told. Sure there’s subtle whispers of ‘they don’t really matter’ and ‘you don’t need them anyway’ but the clear and loud voices are telling students that GCSE’s (or any other big exams) will affect their lives. Now how does that make us feel? If I come out of that exam room feeling like I’ve blown it, it’s not just a paper. I’ve blown my chances of getting a good enough job to be able to provide for my family right? I’ve let down my parents. I’ve let myself down. And then students start thinking that the hours upon hours that they put into studying wasn’t enough, so they do more and neglect their health. That or they give up because ‘I’ll just fail anyway’ and ‘I can’t do it’.

I can’t do it.

I can’t.

That’s what the voice in my head keeps telling me.

Self-destruction.

You could call it that.

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