Ray Morgan: My 11+ Blackout

September 11, 2016 by Ray Morgan

On Saturday, countless kids including those of my friends, will be sitting down with sweaty palms and shaky knees to take the 11+. It made me reflect that it's been 21 years since I sat mine, and I'm amazed at how little I recall of the day itself. In fact I have no memory at all. Isn't that weird?

I don't remember pressure around the 11+ either. I don't remember being sat down and told I was doing it, it was more a creeping realisation that the practice tests we were doing in the classroom were so we could try to get into either Southend or Westcliff High. My parents both went to Westcliff, and my sister was already there, so when I was in Year 6, it just seemed like a normal thing to do in my house. I was too young to pick up on any societal pressures (though I do remember a friend's parent asking me if I was going to take it when I was about 7, and not understanding why she was asking about something so VERY far in the future) and I certainly didn't question it.

I don't remember feeling scared or nervous, because I was such a major dork that I used to do practice Verbal Reasoning tests for FUN, guys. The day must have come and gone without fanfare; my Mum's saying for everything I did was always "Just try your best" so she wasn't saying "Pass or no pocket money". In fact I'd already looked round Belfairs and decided I would like to go there if I didn't pass. It was left to fate. A tiny part of me wanted to fail because Belfairs seemed less scary, and also they had farm animals there at the time (bingo!), but that's by the by. I passed, though with my 'knowledge' of maths and science as an adult, I have no idea how.

Maybe I was "borderline". That was a slur when I was at school, which is impossibly middle class and hideous. If someone didn't seem particularly clever it was "Ugh, she must have been borderline". Scraped through. Barely *worthy* of a place at that school.

But to be really honest, I didn't love being at a grammar (amazing considering that little nugget I just shared eh?). It was pressured, bitchy, and austere just like I'd imagined. I didn't sail through it like some girls did. I got followed home by bigger girls from Belfairs who called me posh (which I wasn't) and spat on my shoes (which were DMs btw, so I must have been a tiny bit punk rock in my own geeky way). I didn't ask for this! I wanted to be at their school rocking maroon instead of navy! Or did I? Life is confusing as an adolescent.

When I was five years in, longer than many prison sentences, LOL, I was like "THIS is enough" - I hadn't had a consistent group of friends all the way through, and I felt miserable; it was all teachers measuring skirt length with rulers, crying doing my homework in a rush on a Sunday night while 'As Time Goes By' was on the telly, and drama falling out with other girls. Girls can be horrible - and I'm sure I was horrible too. To anyone reading this in that latter category, my apologies.

I decided to leave school and go to sixth form at a college, where I could study things like theatre and media studies, and go off to do Creative Writing at university (which were snarked at by my school for not being "real subjects" - er, excuse me teachers but in my day job I'm Head of Marketing now, so you didn't know what you were talking about). College also represented somewhere I would get to hang with boys who at that point mystified me; we could get a detention from so much as talking to a boy on the school premises and we weren't allowed to be in the dinner hall at the same time. Because as far as we knew, being in the queue for chips and an iced bun next to a boy DEFINITELY resulted in pregnancy.

I went to sixth form, and thrived. I found my people - girls AND boys who loved indie music, and beer, and wore baggy jeans and Vans trainers just like me. We went to gigs and studied together and I still did alright in my grades without the constant pressure, so life began for me.

What I'm saying is, for those who are taking it, it's not the be all and end all. I liked doing tests at 11 years old, so it was no biggie. But in my humble opinion, I think it's unnecessary to filter some kids from others. We all have different strengths. Just because you're crap at maths doesn't mean that you're not an amazing artist, drummer or writer - you're not worth less because of not digging academia. The reputation of what a school represents in social circles isn't always representative of what's good for certain kids. I sometimes wonder what I'd be like if I hadn't gone to a grammar; I've always loved writing (those Enid Blyton rip offs are still in a drawer somewhere) so I'm guessing that I would probably still be writing this blog. I like to hope so anyway.

For those taking the test on Saturday I hope it goes well for them. But also, like my 11+ experience (and also childbirth, similar) I hope the stress of it is forgettable. It's everything that comes after that counts.