Illustrator Amy here. I’m usually nice and quiet behind the scenes, but sometimes I can’t help myself, and this is one of those shouty moments. True story…
At primary school, I struggled with spellings and writing. Sometimes the other kids would notice, wait ‘til I sat down and throw paper at the back of my head.
Grrrrrr!
Anyways, at primary age I knew I wasn’t exactly gifted and talented at writing, but I didn’t think I was actually struggling or behind, I just thought I needed to work a bit harder than everyone else and I was cool with it.
Until, that is, we graduated to big school. For the first time ever, we were put into ‘sets’ (set 1 being the highest and set 6 the lowest) and all my besties were in set 1 and I was in set 4.
#Shocker
I was horrified. Gobsmacked! I mean, how, what, why?
Convinced there must be some sort of mistake, my mum and I marched into school and demanded a chat. The headteacher was too busy (presumably putting kids into sets!) so we were given an audience with ‘Mr Jones’ (NOT his real name).
Mr Jones was very to the point. He explained that placing me in set 4 would be the best thing for me because I’d be able to keep up. He was addressing my mum, but I was in the room too! I’m 13. Hellooooo! I’m here. My ears are working!
In his kind and patronising way Mr J explained that I was a below average kid but if I worked super hard in set 4, I could get Ds, with a sprinkling of Cs. Basically, if all went well, I’d be set up for a bang average future.
Except you see, that’s the start of the story, not the end.
I pondered on what Mr Jones had said. I could settle for mediocrity, or he could jog on!
There was no way I was accepting an array of below average GCSE results. Not on my watch!
While I couldn’t do much about being in set 4, I could do something about how I showed up in set 4. I needed to get serious. I was about to show Mr Jones that I am not a below average kid. So when I say I worked – I mean I worked.
- Homework – it was handed in on time, every time.
- Extra after school clubs – count me in, I was there.
- If I could do it better than I had to – I did.
- If I was struggling or didn’t understand – I played the set 4 card to my advantage: ‘Excuse me Miss, this is set 4, can you explain that again?’
- At exam time – true story – I started revising 12 months before everyone else.
Also, please note, I didn’t have any fancy pants extra tuition or help at home… I was just a girl on a serious mission!
A few months on, all the effort was starting to show. I was still in set 4 (Grrrrrrr!) but I was buzzing. By spooky coincidence, a lot of others in set 4 were buzzing. It’s as though my attitude was somehow infectious?
Long story, butchered to the bones, I was the first pupil from set 4 to achieve double A in science, plus a whole string of other As, Bs and Cs.
Not a D in sight people. I repeat, NOT A D IN SIGHT!
Oh, and the icing on the cake is that I won the award for Most Outstanding Progress. And the cherry on top of the icing, Mr Jones had to award me the trophy!
Reflecting back, if I’m in a generous mood, it could have been a cunning motivational ploy by Mr Jones, in which case, thank you sir, for writing me off to my face.
But I doubt it. He was probably just lazily writing me off to my face.
I’ve since learned that it’s called the 90/10 principle. The Art of Brill trainers talk about it all the time. Basically, 10% of whether you have a good life or not is about what happens to you, 90% of whether you have a good life or not is about how you respond to what happens to you.
Mr Jones’ attitude happened. That’s the 10%. But my attitude was the 90%. That’s a massive lesson, right there. That person – the one looking back at you in the mirror while you brush your teeth – has a lot more control than you think.
You can take what you want from my true story. My other learning is this:
- Hard work always pays off, and
- You don’t have to believe what people say to you! What really matters is what YOU say to you.
Amy x