Did School Really Prepare Me For Work?

I’ve realised that if I were to go back to Year 11 and try to resit my GCSE exams, I would most probably fail.¬† So I started to think, did school really prepare me for work or did it just teach me to learn pointless facts only to regurgitate it during an exam or in coursework?

I came up with a little list of things which I either have no idea about anymore (maybe never did) or things learnt which were totally pointless.

  1. What the Sin, Cos or Tan buttons are for on a scientific calculator. Call me crazy but after my GCSE maths exam I never needed to use these buttons again, im not a mathmagician nor do I strive to ever be one.¬† I can’t even remember the last time I used a scientific calculator. The calculator on my phone has all the buttons I’ll ever need: divide, addition, subtract and multiply….all the buttons the average adult will ever need.
  2. What colours mix together to make what. Art was never my strong point. I’ll hold my hands up and say I never really took it seriously, but come on….it was art, I don’t think most people did. If I want my wall to be dark green, I’m going to buy the dark green paint. None of this mixing malarkey to save myself 50p.
  3. How to play an instrument. Aww the joys of going to a school where 1-between-2 was a regular occurrence. Between a shared keyboard with pre-installed songs and singing songs my music teacher had created (talk about ego boost), the lessons were a massive waste of time. I didn’t find a love for playing the triangle or tambourine nor was I a good enough singer to ever have a singing solo.
  4. Physics formulas. I remember trying to cram all the formulas into my head just before physics exams. I can safely say, no one (as of yet) has come up to me and asked when a train would reach Manchester Piccadilly if it as travelling from London Euston in a steady speed of 20mph with two 10 minute stops. This is a bit annoying, as the only formula which I seem to remember is speed equals distance over time. *sigh*
  5. Different types of wood. Who even cares about the different types of wood? Ikea do it all now.
  6. The sexist textile lessons were as useful and the food technology lessons. I believe I was not meant to be a seamstress nor a Michelin star cook. I can sew the odd button and can cook the hell out of a potato but past that it gets abit…misty.
  7. The life cycle of a moth/whale/bat or some other random animal. With the whole missing bee issue we’ve been having, you would think this sort of information would be important, but nope, can’t remember anything.

Instead schools should teach:

  1. How to talk like you know what you’re saying.
  2. Ways to look like your working, when you’re not.
  3. Playing the blame game.
  4. How to lie.
  5. Things not to say to your boss/co workers/CEO.
  6. How to hide a hangover at work.
  7. The acceptable level of drunkenness on a work night out.

When I Was A Little Girl

I saw this picture today and it got me thinking about what I wanted to do when I was little.

When I was a little girl, I had dreams. I had goals. I had planned out my whole life. Everything was going to be easy, I was going to be rich and my wedding was going to be the most talked about event ever.

While at primary school, I believed that I was going to be married by 23, have my first kid at 25 and be able to retire at the grand old age of 50…rich. All I knew was that I would be settled in a nice big house and be an actress come model come singer (none of this 9-5 office malarkey).

So here I am now, 22, with a Sports and Marketing degree under my belt, childless and single. I’m not a famous actress as I can’t remember¬† reams and reams of script, I’m not a model as im only 5’5 and im not a singer because my voice could make dogs howl. The 10year old me would consider my life now, a failure. The more (and i use this word loosely) mature version, is glad she doesn’t have to worry about mortgages, wedding funds, living in a good school area and the rest that goes with it. Although a large piece of me would love to retire at 50.

Many of my friends have kids and the odd few are engaged or married, although I am happy for all of them, I know that I can go out, get rat arsed and not be guilty the next day that I’ve spent the food/gas/car money. I don’t think settling down young is right for everybody, heck, I know it’s not right for me. Everyday when I spot a young mum shout at their daughter ‘Beyonce’ for calling their little brother a ‘c**t’, I’m grateful I wasn’t a teen mum, living in a highrise with 3 different baby daddies (That’s a post for another time).