I still recall being a young year seven student at the local special needs secondary school having my first lesson from our tutor. He told us, “Now you are young adults, expect time to fly by. The slow and happy days of childhood are far behind you.” The other kids didn’t understand what he meant, after all, most of them could barely write their own names. But I understood, although I perhaps didn’t believe him. How could time possibly fly?
So, I battled through the horror that was the special needs education system, one that focused on those more ‘disabled’ and leaving us more able students struggling with being bullied and at risk every day from being beaten to a pulp because restraining isn’t allowed unless the victim is at risk of severe injury, or being locked in a classroom alone if you confronted the teachers about the system you loathed. Time stayed at a nightarish slow pace, and I prayed for some sort of escape route, anything to help me leave that godforsaken place.
And the mainstream school next door offered me that green ticket of freedom. They were opening a new ASD section to their learning support, and needed a test subject. I was the perfect candidate, and I started that summer in 2009.
That was when time opened its wings and took off.
As the retake of year 10 and the GCSE period of year 11, followed with prom planning and choir auditions continued, as well as a relationship with one of my classmates blossomed and then soured, I saw time pick up the pace.
And time sped up when I started college. It only feels like yesterday when I sat in that room with the people I would have to work with over the next two years. And now, today, I am handing in my FMP film. Half term will involve me working both on my coursework, and at the museum, then on 5th June, I leave college forever.
That teacher was right. Time sure does fly.