GCSE Results Day: The Muslim CompSci's story
As Salamu Alaykum Wa Rahmatullahi Wa Barakatuh World!
It was a cold Thursday morning in the suburbs of London where I temporarily resided in my summer holidays. The once green trees and colourful flowers were all but gone as autumn crept its head once again to remind all students that their freedom would not last much longer.
Unsure of when to collect my results, I woke up slightly earlier than intended with an amalgamation of senses; fearful but excited, anxious yet relieved. The culmination of high school solely rested on this day, a day where stress can suffocate one to the point where white hairs begin to grow, a day where fear of failure can envelope one with all sorts of thoughts for the foreseeable future.
Imagine for the better part of 5 years you've been indoctrinated with the notion that the rest of your life will be dictated by a piece of paper with a few letters on it. A crude way to put it but no less true for the thousands of 16 year olds whose hopes and dreams rest on one day alone.
Not only did I have to deal with the tension of getting my results, I also had to deal with the tension of getting to school since I didn't live at home at that time. However, like any human being with a survival instinct of at least 0.1%, I planned my route the night before.
When once I would walk and take the bus a few short stops, I now had to utilise an unfamiliar transport: the train. If memory serves, I had embarked on several journeys via this long metallic vehicle but very rarely so. And I don't recall any of those being as straightforward as simply taking the all so familiar red London buses.
Regardless, I wouldn't let any obstacle stand in my way after counting results day down for a month with my more fortunate friends who had the luxury of being at home and knowing exactly how to get to school. I set out to the nearest bus stop from my house which thankfully, was quite near indeed. Since I wasn't precisely in London I employed the use of the buses operating in the local area.
One benefit, amongst others, of being in the suburbs is that the traffic is minimal even at peak hours. I arrived at the train station sooner than anticipated and immediately saw what I thought to be my train with passengers entering in their droves before the gates of opportunity closed. Without hesitation, I boarded with the utmost certainty that this mode of transport that I was unaccustomed with would deliver my to my desired destination.
I was horribly wrong. After the small high of successfully mounting the typically overcrowded train, I came to the realisation that this train would skip my stop and take my all the way to Paddington directly. The distress on my face must've been evidently clear to see as a young lady standing next to me asked if I was okay.
Slightly nervous yet alleviated, I told her about my tremendous mistake and that it was results day. She, like any other member of this society which idealises being ethically good, reassured me that everything would be fine. So now I'm in Paddington with no clue how to get where I need to be and on top of that, I'm late. Tardiness for me at least, is unacceptable. I don't consider myself a "goody two shoes" but I take special care to be punctual in all matters.
Despite having already been in this station a multitude of times, my heightened unease made it more difficult than usual to find the necessary platform in those exceptional circumstances. After essentially walking aimlessly around the enormous station for a while, I finally located the platform and embarked on a similar transport: the Tube.
I was even more unversed with this mode of transport but I arrived at the correct station with no hassle which was a 5 minute walk away from my school. It was significantly passed the time I wanted to be there and throughout my quickened stroll to the building where I once sat about 30 exams or so I could only think one thing; what if the incident with the wrong train is foreshadowing of what's to come? What if I didn't do well like I didn't do well in selecting the right train? What if all that has transpired this morning is to ready me for the inevitability of whats to come? A 5 minute walk with these toxic thoughts can feel 10 times longer so my pace hastened to the point where I was almost running.
I reach my school, the first familiar sight I had all day. I saw what I predicted, nearly everyone had already collected, seen and emotionally processed their results and the few that hadn't were immaterial to me at that point. I walk past the congregations of students into the hall where the teachers sat behind tables with manilla envelopes in alphabetical order.
I receive my envelope and immediately knew I wasn't going to open it in or anywhere near school. I safely plant the envelope in my jacket to avoid detection and the quintessential question everyone has on their tongues, "how did you do". I find a secure spot; the bus stop, but before I can even get the envelope out the spot is compromised due to other students being visible in the distance.
I decide to endure a bit longer till my double-decker bus comes and whisks me away from this once common, now repulsive place. I venture to the back of the top deck which luckily, was completely empty. My patience had expired and any nicety that would normally be observed in opening the envelope was replaced with a swift yet accurate tear across the top.
There were more pages in it than expected. The first being about resits and remarks which I rightly ignored and believed to be inconsequential. Then 2 more pages, both with a long line of letters and numbers which I could slightly make out through the back of the translucent papers. I flip them over and read...
I saw things I wanted to see and others I didn't. Perhaps my expectations were too high or I was just having a tough day. In the eyes of most, those results would be more than perfectly adequate, they would be great, but I digress. On the way home I called my parents, informing them of the news and as any parent would say to their child on this day of dismay, "we're proud of you".
My disappointment didn't lessen at whatever trivial words anyone could offer, but at least it was all over and I could spend the rest of the holidays with no worries. I wasn't exactly depressed about it nor was I really ecstatic. One could say it was a psychological zero sum game.
Naturally, I was labouring under the delusions that I had jeopardised my whole life; my university, my career etc. but I needn't have since there's more to life than GCSEs. I don't have much regrets about it today but I still know deep down I could and should have done better had fate been kinder but alas, that's life and there's no point crying over what's been spilt.
So whatever ensues tomorrow, good or bad, just remember it's for the best!
Hope this helps!
It was a cold Thursday morning in the suburbs of London where I temporarily resided in my summer holidays. The once green trees and colourful flowers were all but gone as autumn crept its head once again to remind all students that their freedom would not last much longer.
Unsure of when to collect my results, I woke up slightly earlier than intended with an amalgamation of senses; fearful but excited, anxious yet relieved. The culmination of high school solely rested on this day, a day where stress can suffocate one to the point where white hairs begin to grow, a day where fear of failure can envelope one with all sorts of thoughts for the foreseeable future.
Imagine for the better part of 5 years you've been indoctrinated with the notion that the rest of your life will be dictated by a piece of paper with a few letters on it. A crude way to put it but no less true for the thousands of 16 year olds whose hopes and dreams rest on one day alone.
Not only did I have to deal with the tension of getting my results, I also had to deal with the tension of getting to school since I didn't live at home at that time. However, like any human being with a survival instinct of at least 0.1%, I planned my route the night before.
When once I would walk and take the bus a few short stops, I now had to utilise an unfamiliar transport: the train. If memory serves, I had embarked on several journeys via this long metallic vehicle but very rarely so. And I don't recall any of those being as straightforward as simply taking the all so familiar red London buses.
Regardless, I wouldn't let any obstacle stand in my way after counting results day down for a month with my more fortunate friends who had the luxury of being at home and knowing exactly how to get to school. I set out to the nearest bus stop from my house which thankfully, was quite near indeed. Since I wasn't precisely in London I employed the use of the buses operating in the local area.
One benefit, amongst others, of being in the suburbs is that the traffic is minimal even at peak hours. I arrived at the train station sooner than anticipated and immediately saw what I thought to be my train with passengers entering in their droves before the gates of opportunity closed. Without hesitation, I boarded with the utmost certainty that this mode of transport that I was unaccustomed with would deliver my to my desired destination.
I was horribly wrong. After the small high of successfully mounting the typically overcrowded train, I came to the realisation that this train would skip my stop and take my all the way to Paddington directly. The distress on my face must've been evidently clear to see as a young lady standing next to me asked if I was okay.
Slightly nervous yet alleviated, I told her about my tremendous mistake and that it was results day. She, like any other member of this society which idealises being ethically good, reassured me that everything would be fine. So now I'm in Paddington with no clue how to get where I need to be and on top of that, I'm late. Tardiness for me at least, is unacceptable. I don't consider myself a "goody two shoes" but I take special care to be punctual in all matters.
Despite having already been in this station a multitude of times, my heightened unease made it more difficult than usual to find the necessary platform in those exceptional circumstances. After essentially walking aimlessly around the enormous station for a while, I finally located the platform and embarked on a similar transport: the Tube.
I was even more unversed with this mode of transport but I arrived at the correct station with no hassle which was a 5 minute walk away from my school. It was significantly passed the time I wanted to be there and throughout my quickened stroll to the building where I once sat about 30 exams or so I could only think one thing; what if the incident with the wrong train is foreshadowing of what's to come? What if I didn't do well like I didn't do well in selecting the right train? What if all that has transpired this morning is to ready me for the inevitability of whats to come? A 5 minute walk with these toxic thoughts can feel 10 times longer so my pace hastened to the point where I was almost running.
I reach my school, the first familiar sight I had all day. I saw what I predicted, nearly everyone had already collected, seen and emotionally processed their results and the few that hadn't were immaterial to me at that point. I walk past the congregations of students into the hall where the teachers sat behind tables with manilla envelopes in alphabetical order.
I receive my envelope and immediately knew I wasn't going to open it in or anywhere near school. I safely plant the envelope in my jacket to avoid detection and the quintessential question everyone has on their tongues, "how did you do". I find a secure spot; the bus stop, but before I can even get the envelope out the spot is compromised due to other students being visible in the distance.
I decide to endure a bit longer till my double-decker bus comes and whisks me away from this once common, now repulsive place. I venture to the back of the top deck which luckily, was completely empty. My patience had expired and any nicety that would normally be observed in opening the envelope was replaced with a swift yet accurate tear across the top.
There were more pages in it than expected. The first being about resits and remarks which I rightly ignored and believed to be inconsequential. Then 2 more pages, both with a long line of letters and numbers which I could slightly make out through the back of the translucent papers. I flip them over and read...
I saw things I wanted to see and others I didn't. Perhaps my expectations were too high or I was just having a tough day. In the eyes of most, those results would be more than perfectly adequate, they would be great, but I digress. On the way home I called my parents, informing them of the news and as any parent would say to their child on this day of dismay, "we're proud of you".
My disappointment didn't lessen at whatever trivial words anyone could offer, but at least it was all over and I could spend the rest of the holidays with no worries. I wasn't exactly depressed about it nor was I really ecstatic. One could say it was a psychological zero sum game.
Naturally, I was labouring under the delusions that I had jeopardised my whole life; my university, my career etc. but I needn't have since there's more to life than GCSEs. I don't have much regrets about it today but I still know deep down I could and should have done better had fate been kinder but alas, that's life and there's no point crying over what's been spilt.
So whatever ensues tomorrow, good or bad, just remember it's for the best!
Hope this helps!
Thanks and if you're collecting your results today just remember, whatever transpires is good for you and whatever you do, don't let your emotions dictate your logic.
Take some time to process your results and know that at that point in time, you can only see a pixel of the whole picture. For the uninitiated, that simply means your plans for the future aren't necessarily jeopardised by your result.
Perhaps later on in life you may look back on this day with this profound realisation. You may not see the fruits of your efforts during the countless hours of work you put throughout the year today, but I can assure you with absolute certainty that after hardship, comes ease.
Take some time to process your results and know that at that point in time, you can only see a pixel of the whole picture. For the uninitiated, that simply means your plans for the future aren't necessarily jeopardised by your result.
Perhaps later on in life you may look back on this day with this profound realisation. You may not see the fruits of your efforts during the countless hours of work you put throughout the year today, but I can assure you with absolute certainty that after hardship, comes ease.
This was so worth reading ahhaha and I’m not even getting GCSE results tomorrow
Original post by Wooord
This was so worth reading ahhaha and I’m not even getting GCSE results tomorrow
Thank you!
Original post by Blackpanther93
This was very nice to read. Thank you on behalf of people getting their results
Thanks and if you received your results today I hope it worked out well but even if it didn't remember, it's not the end of the world! Every cloud does indeed have a silver lining so do not let anger or sadness cloud your judgement. Embrace your results, take this day a valuable lesson and move forward in life with a sense of achievement.
Original post by Jackudy3
*closes thesaurus*
I appreciate your honesty but if I may advise you as someone once advised me, one should continuously aim to expand one's vocabulary. Just a friendly reminder
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