06 – School Life

In my previous articles, I have touched on life at school but I wanted to go into more detail.

I started school from living with my foster parents and was at a primary school, where I went into the nursery. My foster mum worked at the school, so as you can imagine the teachers had a lot of time for me. I can’t remember much about my early years in primary, but from around 6/7 I remember going early in the morning, with my foster mum. I would help her set up and go see the teachers before class. I would go and play football in the sports hall until my friends came in then I would head down to class. I was a really good child. I liked to get my work done and I liked learning. Also, because I spent time with teachers out of class, I was a bit of a teacher’s pet.

I took part in all after school activities. I was the girls chess champion for our school, I played netball, recorder, got distinctions in the violin and, at times, would play at the Queen Elizabeth Hall. I would participate in everything and I liked to be the best and, of course, I played football. And although it was a boys team I was the only girl allowed to play. No one cared though, because I could play and everyone looked after me. Especially because they knew my foster mum. I fitted in and I belonged.

This was the case up until the age of 8, when I was told my foster parents were not my mum and dad. Life didn’t change at home or school. I started to have friendship problems in year 5 and my focus on my work wasn’t as normal. I moved in the 6 weeks holidays before the last year of primary.

When I went back in, nothing felt the same. I felt so distant from everyone. I was so unhappy at home and I was told that after year six I wouldn’t be seeing my foster parents anymore. This was so upsetting, but I was scared to open up to anyone. As the days passed and I became more and more withdrawn. From the teachers, my friends; and I missed my foster mum so much that when I saw her I just didn’t know what to do. Often I would be sent in with a packed lunch that I didn’t like and I ended up feeling really hungry. My foster mum must have noticed as she started bringing me a packed lunch, with what I was normally given when I still lived there. This made me happy. I felt they still cared and it gave me some normality. At that point, I felt really hungry and must have eaten it so quickly, but I didn’t care what anyone thought.

Around that time, I started misbehaving in lessons. I wanted people at school to notice a change, to try and get me back home. However, that didn’t work and at the end of year six, I was stopped from seeing my foster parents, despite me asking to go to their house after school and telling people that I wanted to see them. Unfortunately, it didn’t work, as my mum’s boyfriend seemed to call the shots by then and that was that.

Secondary school started and I went in, not looking how I would have usually looked. I was looking a bit scruffy, really thin and withdrawn. I wasn’t interested in any other activities other than football. There was no one left that I wanted to make proud of me, as no one came to parents evenings or anything. So I saw no point in trying. I became, as I’ve stated in previous articles too, a naughty child. I didn’t want to see others trying to make their parents proud. I was jealous, hurt and felt quite bitter. I didn’t understand why this was happening to me at all. How could I have everything, be good and be loved one minute, to everything turning the complete opposite the next? School life became difficult. I was bullied and I tried not to get close to people because I didn’t want anyone to know about my home life. I desperately wanted to simply belong again, but that wasn’t happening.

In year 9, I was taken out of school due to the move and I was out of school for around six months. When I eventually went back to my mum’s I was sent back in. I had people questioning where I’d been. I just felt a million more miles away from normality than I ever had. I didn’t want people to know I was being physically abused at different homes, that I was moving around or was on the street. I just got worse and worse in class and can imagine I was a nightmare to teachers. I didn’t want to be the naughty child. I honestly just wanted someone to take me to one side, listen to me and just show they cared… but it was pointless. Everyone could see I was not who I was before. And the few times I did open up about being hit, I was branded a liar and it was ignored or brushed off. I started to retaliate more and it got to the point where I would just not go into school anymore. I would go to other schools being a clown or roam around different areas. At times I would wish something bad to happen because I couldn’t see things getting better anyway.

At 16, when I moved into the man’s ex-partner’s, I did start settling down and luckily still managed to get the grades I needed. I had a friend I had known since I was 3 and we became close again and we planned to go on the same college course, depending on the grades we got. Luckily that happened and without this friend at that point, I wouldn’t have had any direction. I always knew I wanted to be a social worker and be the person for those children in that situation that I didn’t have, but as I was of no use to anybody I lost faith… until that day my friend came back into my life.

The grades came and I managed to get a D in maths and English and me and my friend were able to do the same course. I was so glad we managed it because if we had not there would’ve been no way I would have gone through with it. We started the course and during that time I had to move back to my mum’s again as I couldn’t live where I was anymore. Things at home became difficult again. The same rigmarole of being shouted at, threatened, kicked out. It was hard.

At this point, I also remember telling someone I liked girls. And, of course, when I was out on the street playing football that night everyone started bullying me. I gave up. I took an overdose. When I went to the hospital a teacher from college was there. I ended up with one of my college tutors being somewhat of a pastoral worker and to this day I can not thank her enough. Sometimes I went in my hands would be bruised or swelled or I’d just be quiet and she would know. She would take me out and just showed she cared and without that, I would never have got my qualifications or the grades I have.

I started the next course, level 3 health and social care, and I was living at a friends after I was kicked out again. This friend had a baby and I became more or less a full carer for him. I was 17, so in hindsight, it was just too much for me. I started going into college drunk or just drinking somewhere and I nearly lost my place. This finally gave me a wake-up call. I ended up back at my mum’s and, with the college tutor, I was getting through it. She was in the job for the right reasons and I’m forever grateful for her helping me and I managed to get myself another job after I lost the previous one because of the drinking.

Then life switched up on me again. I had to push myself to get through the course and with Christmas coming up, I felt I wasn’t wanted and arranged to go away for two weeks – only that didn’t happen, because it was taken out of my hands and I ended up having the biggest twist of my life which I will go onto reveal in another article.

Once again, I was in and out of education, doing different courses, trying to push myself forward and eventually I managed to do the level 3 health and social care course that I was meant to finish at 18. Again, it was the tutor I had got me through, by encouraging me and also the rest of the class. When I enter a classroom, I kind of go into the same frame of mind as when I was at school. Not intentionally, it just happens and I don’t really understand why, but I get restless. I’m now hoping to get the rest of the qualifications I need and my driving license. Then I can hopefully get the job I’ve always wanted. Despite everything that’s happened and for that I am proud of myself. If I can push forward for my dreams despite all the baggage, I really want to encourage others, as you can all do it too.