D-Days arrive for students
So the A-level and GCSE results are in.
To be honest, me and the boss fretted more about our daughters’ exams than we ever did our own.
Back in the late 80s, I’d have happily gone anywhere that would take me. Further education was the best way of keeping the party going and avoiding doing any real work for as long as possible.
But that was in the days before student loans and crippling tuition fees kicked in. I graduated from what’s now the University of Cumbria in 1991 with a degree in English literature and an overdraft of £1,000.
These days, even if the Bank of Mum and Dad chips in, thousands of students are graduating with debts of £50,000.
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The night before A-level results day, daughter #1 got an uncharacteristic dose of the yips.
Not known for a crisis of confidence, she generally struts through life like she’s made out of Kevlar.
She said: “I couldn’t have worked any harder. I couldn’t have done any better. What if I’ve failed?”
The way university admissions work -they contact you a few hours before the results come out to tell you if you’ve got a place or not - you get a sneak peek before you get to see your grades.
Thankfully all the hours spent in the library paid off and her first choice, Newcastle, contacted her just after dawn to say she’d got a place (deferred for her “Gap Yah” working in a supermarket and then off round South America) so she figured her results must’ve been okay.
She asked the boss to go into school with her in a hand-holding exercise and when my mobile rang 10 minutes later, I had the feeling everything had come good.
And it had, two As and a B. I could feel the relief through the phone.
Because of the way newspaper print deadlines work, you’re reading this on the day the GCSE results are out but it was written the day before, so we’re currently on pins with daughter #2.
And as soon as they’re in, she’s straight off to enrol at the Liverpool Institute for Performing Arts (4s in English and maths permitting) for her extended diploma in acting which starts next month. Happy? We’re all just glad it’s all over.