My Education Week: CATHAL SWEENEY
Fifth-year student, Scoil Uí Mhuirí, Dunleer, Co Louth
SUNDAY
The reality of secondary school has slowly crept back into my virgin-fifth-year skull. Back in transition year, Sunday nights meant maybe a bit of study, but not too much. A year ago today we were off to the Tayto factory in Armagh. Now fifth-year Sunday evenings consist of frantically doing the homework you meant to do at 4pm on Friday, cramming for tomorrow’s test that you meant to spend all weekend studying for, or simply pretending there’s nothing essential to do tonight. On this particular Sunday I choose to delude myself and go for option No 3. The X Factor beckons.
MONDAY
Drag myself up at 6.30am and slink into school. Go to English; put my head on the desk. Get snapped at by teacher. We take out our play and start reading. Macbeth at 9am on a Monday is possibly the last thing I want. TY English was much easier – basically, studying the lines for our musical, Bugsy Malone, over and over; at least you could doze during other people’s lines.
The day only improves when we march into Irish. Our teacher is very good; she also happens to be a former bodybuilder and often acts like a paratrooper breaking in recruits. In TY she taught us to dance for our musical, and we marvelled that she could cut the rug perfectly in high heels, a skill I fear myself and my male classmates will never master. Now we simply marvel that she can do Irish at this hour.
Then maths – oh boy – and we immediately wish we could teleport back a year. Not only do we miss our TY maths teacher; we also miss the much more relaxed atmosphere. In the space of a few months maths classes have gone from a cheerful group effort to something way more serious. Our new teacher is terrific – she explains the material well and answers all our questions – but it’s still a major readjustment.
TUESDAY
As we walk up to the village for my weekly indulgence – a bag of chips – I speak to fellow TY veterans about being back in the fast lane. No surprise: everyone preferred TY, but I suppose I’m one of the lucky ones. I’m now in a class with nine other ex-TYs.
One of my mates is stuck in a class with only two other TYs, neither of whom he’s friendly with, and he doesn’t know anyone else. Therefore he detests it. Another person dislikes the new curriculum, subjects and so on but loves his new class. Somebody who didn’t even do TY hates everything in general about fifth year.
I suppose this demonstrates that, no matter how educational school is, it’s really your relationship with your peers that defines the overall experience. In TY we pulled together as a privileged team; now we’re all mixed up. Even though from a certain perspective that isn’t so bad, it puts a damper on things for most TY veterans.
WEDNESDAY
Business has changed beyond recognition. That TY Tayto jaunt was classed as a business trip. We were greeted at the door by an icy-eyed woman who told us not to touch anything and then divided us into two groups for a tour. Thankfully, she took the other group. Our tour guide was much nicer, far more attractive and less strict: “One rule: eat as much as you want.”
Taking the turn-off from Memory Lane, we’re back to studying consumer law and contracts rather than running mini companies and learning how to make crisps. Our spirits momentarily soar when we hear that we’ll be going to the Butlers chocolate factory, but it’s not for another month. At least it’s something to look forward to while in purgatory.
That really set me thinking: we have two years of this to endure until the Leaving Cert. But what about those poor sods who missed out on TY? One of my best friends didn’t get picked for it, and he’s now in the countdown to the beginning of the rest of his life (if he passes) or the beginning of the end (if he fails).
THURSDAY
Career guidance today. This class was not included in TY, although it could have been useful, to help with subject choices.
We also hear the Goliath-sized newsflash that the Junior Cert is being phased out. I loathed Junior Cert, but it was, let’s face it, an essential experience. We learned what it’s like to endure State exams, and I’m sure most of us didn’t do all the work required. But that was the point. Now we’ve done it we have a vague idea how to study and take official exams. As for my poor sisters and all the kiddies down in the lower levels, they won’t have that chance to develop. They get one shot at the Leaving Cert. If they fail, remedial education looms.
FRIDAY
The two hours or so after lunch on a Friday are by far the worst of the week. The weekend frantically beckons. I thought the TY Friday afternoons – triple personal development – were sadistically arranged, but wait until you hear this: double Irish, German and maths. Sit through maths, drum fingers on the desk . . . 3.14 . . . 3.15! Bell rings, shriek with joy, toss papers in the air and leg it outside into the weekend.
Except we don’t. Instead, we stay calmly at our desks, diligently note our homework, then leave quietly.
After school I stand with a friend and discuss the year up to now. She thinks it’s awful, despite being in a class with a lot of ex-TYs. She thinks the classes are badly arranged, that last year’s 23 TYs should all be together in one class (now that would make sense) and other miscellaneous rants.
It just goes to show what TY can do to you. It’s great when it lasts, but when it ends . . . It’s like taking a lovely warm shower, then sprinting outside and diving into a snowdrift.
Let’s just pray the blizzard of fifth year doesn’t totally bury us.
This week I was . . .
reading
The Sacrifice by Charlie Higson
watching
Looper and season 3 of Heroes
playing
The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
listening to
Bruce Springsteen’s Born to Run
