There is a popular image, or pressure, of how an academic journey should look but this is not always reality. Many have faced huge personal challenges, academic difficulties or detours along the way. Macy Learmonth shares her own journey from failing A levels to neuropsychiatry to remind us that no path is ever ruled out for you, with advice for anyone who is struggling right now.
Over the summer, I had a major interoceptive rumination of schooling, having worked as a Psychology tutor for a Cambridge international summer school. This stemmed from conversations with my students, some as young as 14, who confided in me about their fears of not getting into their dream universities or careers because they were failing biology, chemistry or maths.
I don’t think the stigma around academic struggle is discussed enough, if ever. Most of us remember a time where we just didn’t “get” a subject. I was always embarrassed to talk about this, fearing the label of being unintelligent. This pressure is worsened by schools with this tunnel vision that amazing grades and top universities are the only means of achieving success. I hope this article will serve to reassure those lacking confidence and advise those who are struggling.
My academic journey
My attitude towards my education is deep-rooted in observing my mum. She enrolled into Oxford Brookes university when I was 3, meaning most of my early memories of her were of her head in her books. If I was lucky on the weekends, she would even take me to the university library with her where I would sit with my colouring book and a packet of smarties while she studied. I suppose she was the blueprint to my work ethic. Although we lived with my grandparents, she was still a single mother in her twenties raising me and my twin. She balanced full time study, employment and her kids, which wasn’t the easiest situation. From then, she ingrained into me that I should prioritise my education and have a good career to be a successful woman.
My primary education is where I established my first and consistent set-back in school - maths. I just didn’t understand it. I was always sat on the ‘red’ table, and given the easiest homework. Every maths test was flooded with red x’s, which became the topic of every parent's evening. This led up to my Year 6 assessments, which would determine my ability set for secondary education, and, as anticipated, my performance in maths was once again poor.
This led me to be placed in the bottom set in Year 7, but this wasn’t forever. Within two months, the school had pushed me up a set, and I finally felt I was getting better. Within two years, my progression throughout school generally improved, but with difficulty. English and languages were my strongest subjects, but maths and science were not for me. I was consistently stuck on Cs, and occasionally lower, which wouldn’t be enough to get into a health science career, especially not in neuroscience, which became my career aspiration at the time thanks to the Big Bang Theory.
As GCSEs started in Year 10, it came down to losing interest. Not only was it exhausting going through adolescence, oscillating friendships and boy problems, but I was grieving the sudden loss of my best friend who was killed by a dangerous driver. My school really didn’t do enough to support me then, which further led me to outlet my emotions unhealthily. My mock exam results were scattered with Ds, even in English and languages.
By Year 11, I knuckled down on my revision and pushed through it. Although I was losing my Grandad to cancer that year, who passed during my exams, I came out with good GCSEs, achieving all Bs and the odd couple of As.
I had obliterated my Year 7 predicted odds of getting into sixth form. However, this was a disaster yet to come. The school had students take four A-levels for the first year of sixth form (generally students only take three A-levels), so I chose my four, and started the year.
My Biology A-level was immediately doomed because my teacher was fired within the first month and my class was juggled between several unsuitable supply teachers until the term ended. Another wave of bad luck piled on as I became a victim of stalking by older men and experienced another sudden death of a family friend. I became totally disengaged with school, which was telling through my December mock exam results; AUUU.
It was clear that I wasn’t coping, but the school wouldn’t let me drop out. I asked several times for some kind of counselling or wellbeing support - even just a chat with someone - but their solution was to stick me in revision sessions after school everyday, and have me make a revision timetable. I was treated like a statistic and not a person. This was solidified when my Psychology teacher finally called me in for that chat I needed on the last day of Year 12.
“We don’t know your exam results, but we don’t think you’ll pass. We’ve decided it would be best if you left the school, and did something else more suited to you. Have you thought about college?”
I was taken completely off-guard. Was I actually being kicked out for not being clever enough?
When it came to results day, I hadn’t failed all exams. But they didn’t allow me to leave without one final blow. Amongst everyone’s result envelopes that were spread across the table, they had overtly noted my sealed envelope telling me NOT to enroll for year 13 and to speak to the head of year. I hadn’t even opened my results yet, but was outed to my entire year group as a failure. After hiding behind the music block to open my results and break down, I became immediately furious after seeing my actual grades. I stormed into the sixth form block to face my Psychology teacher again. All I did was silently stare at her with my results on the desk, and she replied “so have you decided where you’re going next?” She never believed in me, and assumed that me staying wasn’t even an option, until my head of year came in. Again, he didn’t ask how I was, he just dumped the entire sixth form register in front of me and pointed to my highlighted name.
“You’re one of the ones we want to save, because you passed and yeah…struggled with Geography. And you didn’t like Biology anyway, did you?”
Had I seriously been strung along and made to feel terrible about myself, all for them to take me back? They had me wrong, and they didn’t deserve me.
I promptly stood up, left the school and called my mum, asking her to drive me to my back-up option. I walked into a new sixth form and met the head teacher who took my results and put her hand over my grades, offering me a fresh start with amazing teachers and wellbeing support.
Over those next two years, I re-sat my A levels with the most supportive teachers who got me ABB grades. I owe everything to my Psychology teachers who encouraged me to pursue the subject after everything.
I made myself at home with the Psychology Department at the University of Portsmouth. The staff were incredibly helpful and believed in me throughout my entire academic journey. My supervisor was a constant source of inspiration and support, who reassured me of my career aspirations in a neuroscientific discipline, and rebuilt my self-confidence. So much so, the department supported me to get a place at my dream university which I was once never smart enough to get into, for a Master’s degree I thought I could never do. This was Clinical Neuropsychiatry at King’s College London.
My advice
The path I've taken to reach this point has been far from smooth, and I'm certain there’s many others who can relate. There are countless moments where it was justifiable for me to give up. To close my article, I share my best advice with anyone facing similar struggles.
Surround yourself with like-minded people - A supportive network of peers and colleagues is a lifeline in neuroscience. Friends come and go, but it’s the ones who guide, challenge and believe in you through the journey. For me, I couldn’t have gotten by without my friend Ben, who made neuroscience lab days bearable, but constantly encouraged me to strive for gold.
Discipline, sacrifice and balance - Wake up at 7am, sign up for that voluntary position at your department, stay behind and ask your lecturer questions. Be prepared to miss parties and brunches here and there, but find the time for self-care, perhaps by running a bath or cuddling your pets.
Stay resilient in the face of adversity - There will be bad days and people who will doubt you. But you know yourself best and only you can protect your spirit and peace. During my Master’s, I was confronted with losing another best friend, but this time I was stubborn about getting support. Indeed, my grades suffered temporarily, yet this decision was the lifeline that carried me through the course.
This article was written by Macy Learmonth and edited by Ailie McWhinnie. Interested in writing for WiNUK yourself? Contact us through the blog page and the editors will be in touch!
Comments