Turning a New Leaf

Regardless of the amount of times that my parents have reminded me to not fall into a strict routine which must always go to plan, I cannot deny nor will willingly let go of my habit-forming habits for a while yet because, as long as I achieve all that needs to be done by the time that I stumble into bed (and wait for another thirty minutes until my brother stops jumping all over the place like a kangaroo high on Red Bull), I'm at my happiest. As teenagers are more often than not heralded as rule-breakers and people of whom who relish nothing more than challenging instructions within reason, it may come as a surprise that I hardly have a calling to bend the rules in any way whatsoever, therefore putting me in the running to claim the title of Miss Goody-Two-Shoes of the Year. It doesn't matter whether I yell at my brother to LEAVE ME ALONE at the top of my lungs on a daily basis or I forget to turn off the water after thirty minutes - think of the bills, think of the bills! - because you can usually rely on me to do the right thing, often without my even thinking twice about my actions. 

Yet, tout d'un coup, an alarm bell has rung through my ears, shifting me from one routine to one which is as unfamiliar to me as players competing in next month's World Cup, though I haven't made much of an effort to read up on the latest football happenings. In so many ways, it is exactly what I have wanted but nonetheless sends my nerves over the edge because I require plenty of patience and, to my profound annoyance, to succeed in whatever interests me when the time to pursue my dreams lands on the doorstep, ready to be transformed into my ideal reality. What could be throwing my routine - and mostly all that I've known - into the air, one kick away from being disposed for good? The article in question is an aspect of everyday life for pupils all over the world, let alone a greasy-haired teenager living in an Emmerdale-isque village: school. 

For as long as I could read and appreciate the words that entered my mind, I've read over and over again that one's years at school are the very best in their entire life which, when you think about it, makes perfect sense. Once you get your first job and are introduced to working life, there is no going back to your care-free days as a growing youngster at school, whose worries - if any even exist - lie within achieving satisfactory grades and making friends. On paper, school should be as pleasant as a summer breeze for those who try their utmost to work hard and stay on the right side of the tracks, but we needn't forget that school isn't the sole means of gaining an education which, after spending seven years as a home-educated student, I know all too well. 

Although I spent the first few years of my education being taught in primary schools in which I felt happy and had no problem with the work given to me, it wasn't until my family and I moved to a different area when I was eight that home-schooling - the term used to refer to children being educated or schooled at home, either by a tutor or their parents - became a possibility, after coming across several issues at my new school. For starters, the happiness in which I used to bask myself at my previous school had all but disappeared at my new one due to bullying and a dislike for the school itself, whilst my parents weren't pleased at all by the poor teaching standards and lazy attitudes held by the teachers themselves. This then set upon my little brother and I's seven year-long era of home education which, after returning to a county where we were at our most content while attending primary school, officially drew to a close yesterday. 

Despite figures for home-schooled pupils steadily rising since my brother and I started being home-schooled, I still get the impression that many people look down upon us because they immediately create assumptions that these pupils have a troublesome streak or ran into trouble at their previous schools which, having a loathing like none other for criminals and bad-natured individuals, I find extremely hurtful. By writing this blog alone, would you add my name to the pile of students who ought to be written off by the system for exploring a different means of education? Home-schooling isn't necessarily easy because families are left with no choice except to fund schoolbooks and the child's education themselves without a single penny being paid by the government - who, if I'm correct, have maintained their values for each child being entitled to a free education - yet this doesn't mean that I didn't make the most of it as an education is still an education. 

For those blinded by short-sighted views of others who have neither had any experience with home-schooling nor are acquainted with any home-taught students, let me fresh you with the truth that home-schooled students are as normal as the pupils who attend state-run schools. appreciate the company of others (there goes the myth that socialization goes out the window) and choose their form of education to comply with their best interests. Whenever I bring up this topic, there is quite an uncontrollable urge to blurt out my feelings and make others aware of the fact that home education isn't weird in the slightest - if anything, how did many well-known stars and respectable faces achieve the successful careers that they have? 

Anyway, my brother and I carried on being home-schooled for the seven years or so that we lived in our former town, then a possibility to start afresh at a new school in a different area of the country became our main focus because, as we had more faith in the education system in this county, we were highly interested in resuming our education at school. Moving house was stressful enough - to this day, I still get overwhelmed by the hassle I endured before, during and after the Big Move - but the thought of returning to school kept my spirits sky-high because it unleashed an excitement previously unknown to me, giving me something more than cardboard boxes to think about. 

Eventually, The Big Move came and went within less than twenty four hours, then the aftermath - unpacking time - occupied my family and I's attention until we gradually steered our thoughts to other matters, which included returning to school. Although I made no secret of appreciating my status as a home-schooler, it could no longer be denied that I was eager to go back to school, so my family began the process of finding a new school, believing that it wouldn't require much effort (nor many telephone bills). As my schoolbooks had not yet been discovered in one of our many boxes, finding numbers for various schools around the county was my equivalent to a week's worth of homework due to our struggle to find a school which was not only within the county's borders, but was also in a position to offer a place to both my brother and I. What was the point of enrolling in a school which only had enough space for myself while my brother was obliged to travel twenty miles or so to another? Imagine many empty boxes of paracetamol (to cure splitting headaches) and you get an accurate image of the battle that my family and I faced to obtain a vital part of every child's life: an education. 

To my relief (and the sake of our medicine cabinet which, at the height of our search for schools, was bulging with no room to spare), my family and I discovered a school that was not only able to offer places to both my brother and I, but is based a mere four miles away from our home. Bearing in mind that I was contemplating about applying for a faith school around twenty miles away, hearing the news was music to my ears - at long last, we had found a school! 

On the off-chance that you were curious as to what my plans were on Tuesday morning and the whole of yesterday respectfully, I can clarify that I was indeed at the school, having planned to view the premises with my family on Tuesday before attending the final day before half-term yesterday as a 'taster' of what was soon to come. Needless to say, I was chuffed to bits with the school, a fact of which quickly soothed the nerves that had been planted in my queasy stomach beforehand. I was also shown on a tour around the school - which, as it is situated in the middle of the countryside and lies next to a main road, looks stunning on a sunny day because of the many fields that surround it - and, despite expecting it to be of a largish size (as all secondary schools are), I wasn't knocked for two as the classes weren't extremely difficult to get to, especially as many of the lessons were mainly based in one block. 

Due to better attendance, the school was holding a non-uniform yesterday yesterday as a treat before next week's half-term, so my brother and I were invited to come along and get to know our new friends - of course we said yes! Although we had picked up most of the school uniform a few days prior to yesterday (Friday), it was a relief that my brother and I wouldn't stand out from the crowd by wearing our ordinary clothes compared to the others dressed in their uniform, though I reckon that my brother was tempted to try on his new blazer! Also, there wasn't a single opportunity for us to get lost in search of our classes because each of us were teamed with a student from our year, both of whom helped us break the ice and get comfortable to studying in a friendly, though sometimes lively school environment. My proudest moment by far was offering some help to several of my new friends in French at the end of the day - sharing my passion for a language for others who may have struggled to comprehend it gave me such a buzz combined with gratitude for being able to put my French-speaking skills to good use.

Typically, the last day of term before a week-long break begins isn't always a reliable indicator of how students may usually behave, but I couldn't have faulted the polite nature that the fellow students in my classes maintained, particularly if they were holding a conversation with me. Like the butterflies that flew around my stomach a few days before, my shyness gradually disappeared into a quiet confidence as the day progressed, focusing on succeeding with my schoolwork and having fun with my new friends. All in all, I had a great day and cannot wait for school start the week after next - I'm already counting the days! 

In so many ways, it feels like yesterday when I began my first day as a home-educated student seven years ago, but now the time has come for me to embrace a new start and, inevitably, turn a new leaf. By attending a new school, I'm opening myself to the opportunity to make friends and progress further within my education, which has always been my ambition. However, even I couldn't hold back from expressing some sadness when the car drove away from home yesterday morning, officially confirming the end of my years as a home-schooler. Letting go is tough, but if I know that it's for the best, I must put those feelings aside and move on, should I? 

For the time being, I'm going to prepare for my first proper week at secondary school which, with around a week or so of half-term left, is sending shivers of excitement down my spine. As soon as I walked out of the premises yesterday afternoon, I craved to be immersed in another lesson, my desire to learn as strong as ever before. You know what, there is no doubt about my fondness for this school - I'm going to like it very much!