Students celebrate their results in 2011
Rachel Cunningham
CAO Applicant
Is the Pope a Catholic? Is grass green? Am I nervous waiting for my Leaving Cert results? People seem to know the answer to the first two, but surprise, surprise, it appears everyone wants to ask you how you feel as you wait in Results Death Row.
Are you nervous?
Yes, I am. Yes, all 50,000 of us who sat the Leaving surely are. June is heaven or hell depending on the questions in your exam papers. July is a sort of limbo where you get away from it all but now in early August I am floating in educational purgatory. It’s as if the monster is back in your life stalking your every move.
That’s where I am currently floating until midweek. For the first time since my jolly days in playschool I cannot technically be described as a schoolchild or student and that terrifies me. Like a much less interesting Jason Bourne, I feel as if I am suffering from an identity crisis.
Unlike many of my peers I have no definite career path in mind as I prepare to dip my feet into college life. I am now no longer in control of my future, the letters printed on a state approved piece of paper could potentially define my entire life. To have no idea what course I will be undertaking or what University I will be attending in a matter of weeks is rather a daunting thought.
Am I nervous? In the same way that a shadow can’t simply be shaken, naturally the economic climate must always be factored into any reference to the future. You can only bury your head in the sand for so long before worries about employment begin to trickle in and dampen your spirits. Of course I can continue to revel in the denial-coated cocoon that is education for a few more years but after that I will be forced to face the big bad world. Fortunately this issue is a while off yet however its presence is nonetheless fixed in my mind.
Am I nervous? I have begun to lose track of general expectations for my generation, are we the white hope of tomorrow or have we already been written off as collateral damage to these confusing recessionary times? The ever-encouraging media continues to portray the youth of today as doomed to be penniless and jobless. Personally, I fully intend to embrace my status as a poor student by occupying my family home until my parents kick me out and change the locks. Some consider this a tad extreme. I consider it to be a savvy money saving scheme. My parents have yet to be informed.
Am I nervous? My feelings regarding the results are ambivalent. With Wednesday speedily approaching, one moment I think of the affair with increasing trepidation while the next moment I feel positively elated at the prospect of finally knowing how I’ve done. The latter may quite easily be a consequence of the Olympiad good feeling that has been in the air of late and I am less inclined to trust it. Still, in order to accommodate my mixed emotions as I open the dreaded envelope that seals my fate I shall have tissues in one pocket and tickets for celebration in the other. I must admit that the mere thought of the occasion makes me feel rather wary. Wednesday the 15th has for so long been fixed as a D-day of sorts in my mind but in all honesty I know that I will be waiting on tenterhooks until the course offers are released on the following Monday.
Am I nervous? Despite the fact that I can do no more to change or improve my situation, an element of nervousness has begun to intrude upon my thoughts. What I fear most of all is the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth. I’d hate for an ultimately enjoyable schooling experience to be marred in the course of one morning. Wednesday will be the beginning of a new journey in my life, regardless of how I do. I, like the majority of the country’s former Leaving Cert. students, shall be left in an agonising uncertainty for days while the powers that be set the course offers and my path into the as yet unknown. How could I not feel nervous? All the same I am comforted by a saying that I heard recently; ‘Today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday.’
Are you nervous? No matter how often I attempt to compile my thoughts on the matter, somehow I always fail to articulate my feelings in a satisfactory fashion. As I open my mouth to give a detailed and fervid response to this question I succeed only in spitting out the eloquent reply ‘eh….I dunno really,’ at which point I notice a new light entering the eye of the questioner. Boredom – definite boredom: queue-furrowed brow and lip-biting. Bring on Wednesday so that it can quickly become yesterday.
