Breaking Up Is Hard To Do – Part 1

A fairly pivotal few months lie ahead for two of my children. My son is making the step up from Middle to High School (or in old money, Primary to Secondary), and my step daughter is imminently about to embark on GCSEs and the move to College / Sixth Form.

I can’t help cast my mind back to when I experienced the same events myself, back when every summer seemed to be a long and hot one, and my biggest concerns had absolutely nothing to do with money!

I left Primary School on July 22nd 1987, and I doubt I could have enjoyed my time there any more if I tried. The teachers were 99% tip top and the same went for my classmates. On the last day of school, my favourite teacher gave her goodbyes and put it to us that we should come back and visit the school in the future – not necessarily the next term, or even the next year, but in years to come. And I did so in 1999, 2007 and 2009, and I actually found it quite an overwhelming experience (in a good way!)

Primary School - clearly NOT in July 1987

Here's another photo I took earlier...

And as is my wont, I have to include an obligatory music gesture! For this blog it comes in the shape of the song that was Number 1 the week I left Primary School:

Whilst it was sad to leave, I didn't sense any particular feeling of loss, as every member of my class was going to the same Secondary School anyway. So come the third of September 1987, we all moved up the ladder.

Told you I had blond hair!

I personally found the step up to be immense. I think that coming from a relatively small village primary school with barely 150 students in the entire school, I was now amongst more than 150 students in just one school year. I’d gone from being the fifth oldest in my last school year, to being about the twentieth oldest in this new place. I recall getting horrendous 'flu just a few weeks into the first school term. In fact I actually felt a bit voiceless, having drifted into the mass of numbers somewhat, not that I'm an attention seeker! Much.
*cough*
No-one believes me that I'm actually painfully shy!

Looks appealing doesn't it!?

I also had a bit of a rough start as I was selected in a class with not one of my male friends from primary school, and just one female. I got on really well with her, but being rather shy (seriously!) I needed a bit more of a comfort blanket than that. Most of the class seemed to know each other and were on the whole friendly enough, though one or two were crueller than they needed to be. Thankfully I found a couple of people who went out of their way to be incredibly friendly and helpful to me. They put in so much effort to get to know me during those early days which I was incredibly grateful for. I've never forgotten that and to this day I am pleased they are still amongst my circle of friends.

In spite of their great efforts though, both me and my female friend (with all due respect to each other) were still unhappy and craved friends that we were more familiar with. With the aid of a phone call from my Dad, a meeting was instigated with our terrific head of year, and he went through all the student class lists to see what arrangements he could make to help us. Thankfully there was a supremely easy swap which suited us both. My new tutor group was great from the get-go, and some of the children I met over those early weeks became lifelong friends, although there was one guy who seemed determined to exercise his height advantage by starting to bully the children of a smaller stature – namely me. He just gave me so much grief for the first month or so, such as literally shoving me out of the way for no reason and physically trying to intimidate me at every opportunity. It came to a head when I had just had enough of it all. I challenged him to meet me on a Saturday at a local park to ‘sort it out’. I managed to get the support of many of my new classmates, as they too had got fed up with his antics.

As it happened, I didn't go to the park. Maybe it was fear and I just bottled it, but I just thought that he wouldn't show up either. Come the following Monday though I walked straight up to him in front of his mates and bluffed: “Where were you then!?”... He countered with the same. Both of us claimed to have been there, smiled to each other and left it at that, and he never gave me any aggro again!

So all in all, once the minor issues had resolved themselves, it was a relatively easy transition, and one that I reckon my son will cope with well enough. Mainly as he’s far more confident than I ever was!

In Part 2, I’ll have a look at leaving Secondary School, which is a slightly different ballpark!