A Surprising Journey Through Secondary Education
Kelly Pike, a 42-year-old book publicist, recently faced an unexpected journey after moving houses to secure her 11-year-old son a spot in the right school. What followed was a revelation that challenged her initial assumptions. In an interview with Hannah Fearn, Kelly discusses why the anticipated ‘right’ result on admission day is not always as fulfilling as it seems.
In our region of South-West England, the landscape of secondary education is in turmoil. Once, it was common for families with professional backgrounds to easily send their children to private schools. However, the financial strain has grown significantly, particularly following the introduction of VAT on school fees. At one point, there was a staggering deficit of around 300 state school places in the city. The council had plans to tackle this by constructing three new schools, but the projects have faced delays, leaving many children in temporary learning environments. To avoid this unsettling situation, we made the decision to relocate.
Our journey to find the right school began back in October 2021 after I received a modest inheritance, which opened up the possibility for us to consider moving. With our son’s school year being pivotal, we were determined to avoid the same pitfalls we had experienced with primary school. Previously, we had been assigned a school that was a 20-minute drive away instead of our local option. Therefore, we began searching for a home closer to a primary school that also offered strong secondary education prospects for all our children. We have a 10-year-old and a six-year-old, so it was crucial for us to find a secondary school that would cater to all of them over the years.
Ultimately, we moved just outside the city limits into the neighboring county, while still remaining close to the catchment area of our preferred school. This mixed-sex comprehensive school, still under local authority control, had a poor reputation in the past, but recent changes in leadership and teaching staff had transformed its reputation. Friends with children enrolled there praised the school’s improvement, convincing us it would be a great fit for our son.
After consulting with the local council and analyzing the shifting catchment areas, I felt optimistic about our chances of securing a spot. When offer day arrived, our first choice was confirmed, and I was elated. I believed my son would transition seamlessly alongside his friends, but looking back now, I realize that choosing the right school is far more complex than it seems.
During the school selection process, I encountered many parents who confidently declared, “You can just tell it’s a fantastic school!” I often found myself puzzled, unsure of what exactly I should be looking for. I did involve my son in the decision-making, but his main concern was simply wanting to attend the school where his friends would be.
Maintaining those friendships was crucial for both of us, especially since he had faced challenges during his primary years. The pandemic lockdowns exacerbated his struggles, leading to health anxiety. We suspect he may be autistic and also deal with ADHD and dyslexia. The special needs coordinator at his primary school recognized the need for a referral for diagnosis, but we are still navigating the lengthy waiting process. Throughout primary school, he received adequate support as a SEND child, which helped him considerably.
Our first signs of trouble with the secondary school emerged just a couple of months after offer day, during a welcome day for new students in May. It was then that we discovered the school had divided the student body into two sections for classes, placing all of my son’s primary school friends on one side while he was assigned to the other. The only classmate he would share lessons with was a child who had bullied him in primary school.
My son was heartbroken. He struggled to sleep at night, and tears became a regular occurrence. Despite our attempts to reassure him, he remained anxious. When school started, it became clear that his friends were placed together in a tutor group, leaving him isolated. We requested a change in tutor groups, and while he was moved, it wasn’t to the group he desired. Unfortunately, the school informed us that there was no possibility of altering his lesson group. Consequently, he remains in classes with the bully, while his former friends have begun to exclude him.
At times, I wonder if it would have been more beneficial to select a school where he had no prior connections, allowing him a fresh start and an opportunity to forge new friendships. What’s particularly heartbreaking is that my son has echoed these sentiments. He feels increasingly lonely. Compounding this issue, the transition from primary to secondary school lacked adequate communication regarding his suspected neurodiversity and anxiety history. Without this context, the school has been dismissive of his additional needs, and the SEND team has been unresponsive to my concerns. Academically, he performs well out of fear of failure, but this pressure has led to him collapsing emotionally at home.
Recently, we have witnessed troubling behaviors that we hadn’t observed before, including autistic meltdowns and instances of self-harm. On the last day of term, he confided that he wanted to end his life. His mental health has deteriorated significantly compared to the end of primary school. I have often reflected on whether I should have taken more time to consider our school choice and visited more options before finalizing our decision. However, the reality for parents outside of London, especially those who cannot afford private schooling, is that choices are severely limited. While we had a couple of options due to our willingness to relocate, the available choices were still minimal.
We genuinely believed this school would meet our son’s needs, but it has fallen short. Unfortunately, transferring him again is not an option; the local schools are oversubscribed, and another move would only add more disruption to his already fragile mental state. What I truly need is for the school to work collaboratively with us to help stabilize his situation.
I found the primary school system to be nurturing and supportive; however, it feels as though a switch flips off as children transition to secondary education. While I understand the necessity for independence, there must be better continuity of care during this critical period. This spring, my son has finally begun to make new friends, but this progress has come at a significant emotional cost. I don’t regret our decision to move, as the alternative would have been to have him educated in a temporary classroom. Yet, this situation feels entirely avoidable. Perhaps we have simply been unfortunate, or perhaps I am overly protective as a first-time mother. I recognize that children need to learn resilience and adapt to change, but given our son’s unique circumstances, my frustration is palpable.
My advice to parents navigating the secondary admissions process is that, no matter how sure you are of your choices, the reality can be entirely different once your child steps through the school gates. Even if you secure your desired school, it might not live up to your expectations; conversely, a school you initially overlooked might ultimately be the better fit for your child. All we can do is strive to support our children as they cultivate resilience, listen to their concerns, and be there for them as they embark on their educational journey.
