Why the best school isn’t always the right fit
As secondary school places are offered today, Lauren Libbert explains why parents shouldn’t panic
The chemistry teacher dropped the paper on my desk as the bell sounded. “Keep trying, Lauren,” he smiled.
I stared at the large letter “C” scrawled in red at the top of the page. That letter was following me around school like a bad smell; from chemistry and history to Spanish and maths, it glared at me from the top of every essay, written proof of the ceiling to my intelligence.
It was the early Eighties and I was a pupil at a smart secondary school for girls with a long-standing reputation for academic excellence.
As the youngest of five children, my parents wanted the very best for me after I’d proved a high achiever at my state primary.
It was the open day that clinched it. Tennis courts, swimming pool, beautifully spoken prefects in their bumble bee black and yellow striped uniforms – all three of us left dizzy with excitement.
The fact the school was an hour and two bus journeys away on the other side of Manchester didn’t matter. It would be a daily expedition towards knowledge and success.
But it wasn’t long after I started that the shine of being at one of the best schools in our area started to wear off.
We were streamed from the offset, split into four classes based on entrance exam results; form S with the cleverest pupils, followed by T, K (my class) and then M, many of whom had been on the waiting list and had only just scraped into the school.
I’d hand in homework, score a solid 65 per cent, feel momentarily chuffed before seeing the marks – invariably from class S or T – way up in the 90s. By the end of the first year, my confidence was crushed. I was forever destined to be the backing singer, never the star.
After achieving my expected – average – grades at O-level, I begged my parents to send me to the local mixed – more than average – college up the road. We argued for days. I was making a big mistake; others would kill for my opportunity of going to what was the first choice school for so many. But while schools like mine churned out exceptional results, I knew it wasn’t the right fit for me.
Eventually, I was allowed to enrol at the local college. Trying not to focus on the plaster peeling off the walls or the half-empty bookshelves, I’d feel a jolt of confidence every time the teachers praised my contributions in class or read out excerpts of my essays, often marked with a big red “A”.
With the competition less fierce, I now had a chance to shine. I’d spent years feeling average and unremarkable, but in my new position at the top of the class, my confidence soared; my potential suddenly limitless. I worked hard, wanting to do better, to achieve more.
How ironic then that it was here, surrounded by pupils of mixed abilities, that I thrived, eventually scoring the highest possible grades at A-level.
And that has to be the lesson here. Good schools aren’t always the best schools for your child. For every child that does well, there is most likely another child – like me – who feels thwarted. So if you are feeling disappointed your child didn’t get into the “best” school today, my advice is simple: don’t think about which is the best school, but think about which school is best for them.