Anyway junior school was close approaching, and the nerves started kicking in! All the stories that the boy across the road use to tell you like the really mean teachers, and the really hard spelling tests, all these silly little stories started to play ball with my imagination until the day actually arrived and walking through the, what seemed, huge doors, then suddenly everything would go into slow motion it was like entering the giants castle. As we all walked through to our new classes you could tell all that our bodies are made up of were fear and innocence. This blew over after a couple of days and everybody was back to their normal ways, very ambitious and eager to get every piece of work done to full potential.
Although nothing really stood out in these earlier years of junior school I had an exceedingly good time meeting friends for life, learning the roots of growing up and basically any curriculum activities of this part of my education.
Time flew by and I was just coming up to the start of year six, my aspirations obviously being very different to when I was coming up to the start of year three. My targets this year were to become a house-captain, perform very well in my S.A.T.S and really enjoy my last year of junior school. I had a very good start proving to the teachers on the trip to Ironbridge that I was a very capable student and was chose to be a house-captain of my favoured team, which in fact was ‘Armstrong’. At this current age it was a big role to play, having to help out everywhere and anywhere I could but was very willing all through and topping a great year off was being voted best house-captain by students and teachers. I also performed pretty well in my S.A.T.S examinations getting greater marks than most people in the year group.
My last day at junior school starts and the last goodbyes’ play their part, it was like retiring as king of the jungle to be one of the smallest fish in the sea. I still have to this day the shirt that most of the school signed and I hope I can treasure this for the rest of my life. Although only the three of us were going to Shenfield High School, having such a good last year at junior school really boosted my confidence and I had really high hopes for what I was heading for.
Here we are again at the summer holidays but this time with a difference, I was counting down the days, as slowly as I could, until I start Shenfield High. I didn’t really have a very exciting holidays just doing the same things day after day, playing football over the park whilst our bare legs, arms and face toasted in the sun. Where as the next day we’ll be on the computer thrashing our thumbs at the controller pad as the great British weather lets loose on all windows to nearly deafen everybody in the neighbourhood. Although, this re-hydrates the roses and spruces the sunflowers bringing out the most tranquil colours in all flowers in the land.
The morning arrives and mum has woken me up especially early, I’ve by now had a million lessons on how to tie a tie but still can’t do it. I pack my lunch in my bag and off we go. Mum was excited as ever but doesn’t realise that it’s actually me starting high school! My stomach felt like it had burst into a billion butterflies but I got over it and was soon taken into my form room with another 20 students. Luckily one of my best friends was in the same form as me so I had someone to sit next to. We were handed our first ever timetables for lessons. Everybody was amazed at the amount of different lessons in different rooms we had and we all looked at and judged our teachers by their names, O’ what great imagination we had back then. We all got through the form registration stage and was taken to a couple of lessons to meet some of our teachers, what fools we must have been to believe that they were always going to act like they did in them. By now my nerves had worn off and everything was flowing sweetly.
Year seven seemed to fly by and by the time you just read that last paragraph I was already in year eight. Looking back, nothing really stands out from year seven, there was the activity week trip to France but that wasn’t the most memorable trip to say the least, although me and a few friends did manage to smuggle a few lighters and French bangers back with us.
I started year eight with a lot more confidence, I was no longer the smallest fish in the sea but still far from gaining back my role as king of the jungle. Throughout this year lots of new words were learnt, everybody is going through hormonal changes and being at the average age for puberty to start all parts of the puzzle started to find their own place. Girls start talking about boys and boys start talking about girls, there is no longer the image of the devil in your mind when anybody talks to you about a girl, it is more of a favoured topic of conversation.
I finished year eight with no major problems, and again the same with year nine. I begun my GCSE’s in year ten and my favoured subjects were Geography, Business Studies, German and I.T. I think to myself now regrettably why did I choose these subjects but at the time you never knew really what you were in for. I’m still, just about, finishing my courses awaiting the examinations but have put myself into my own Grand Canyon with leaving coursework extremely late. A very selfish and lazy option to make but here I am now even writing this piece twelve months late, still with bundles to do in practically impossible amounts of time. I’ll just co-operate doing my coursework indulging in the big wide world ahead of me.