I ummed and aahed for some time before signing up to make this post and resurrect this thread. I never imagined myself with a mumsnet account. In fact, I won’t be having children so this will likely be my only post here.
I heard from family over Christmas that the true state of BRGS had finally been revealed by an ofsted report. I laughed and questioned why it had taken so long, they cut my laughing short and informed me that it was so bad for one kid, that that kid is sadly no longer with us.
I discovered this thread in some post-christmas googling, having seen the ofsted report. I haven’t seen much discussion elsewhere. I read some of the posts with anguish. I thought it was worth adding something as maybe I can make a difference.
I have made a good go of my life after leaving the school, but it’s been a close call, at times. I achieved well academically. I have a good degree and PhD from a top 10 uni, a well-respected job with awards for my work, have travelled to most of the continents for work and pleasure, have represented my country at my chosen sport. I have a nice house, fast cars and other nice toys. On paper, I have a great life, and my achievements come from the foundations of me attending a decent grammar school and getting straight A’s, right? On Paper, yes.
I struggle with mental health. I am medicated. I suffer from insomnia and night terrors. I permanently have the shakes. I have considered ending things, as a way out, on several occasions. I had to take mental health leave from my old (thankfully supportive) employer. I numb the pain and enable sleep with alcohol and sleeping pills. I can never sit still or relax. I struggle sitting in public places where I am not back against the wall with knowledge of where the exits are. I have been abused and exploited in relationships because I am conditioned that this is how I should be treated; indeed it makes me distinctly uncomfortable and confuses me when others are nice to me. There are a few close to me who know all this, but to the majority, I keep it quiet, as I do not wish for it to define me, and I do not wish for sympathy or eggshell behaviour.
I am paying for extensive private psychological treatment at more ££ per session than some of my friends earn in a week, and I have no idea when that will end, if it ever will. I have been diagnosed with chronic depression, PTSD, and resultant anhedonia. My work with the psychologist has repeatedly led back to my time at BRGS, the trauma I suffered there at the hands of other pupils, and the complete lack of support around it from staff, management, and my parents, who were a mess in other ways but on this sadly believed the BRGS official line. Before my attendance at BRGS I was a happy, conscientious and confident child, top of the class with good friends. Within a few weeks of beginning Y7 I was regularly playing truant to escape the daily torture. Within a year or two I learnt to hide everything as not to become a target – don’t be different, don’t be smart, don’t show emotion, don’t try hard, don’t make eye contact, just stare at the floor. Just be a nobody.
The official line was that BRGS was for the smart kids, and smart kids didn’t bully. Smart kids don’t punch, hit, or subject others to daily emotional, physical or mental torture. Smart kids don’t pick you up and throw you across the room into tables, or beat you until you struggle to walk. Smart kids don’t dangle you over the hall balcony by your neck for giggles. The problem was me, you see, as Mrs S. took great delight in telling me in front of all my Y7 peers, that if I was having a torrid time I should maybe just, you know, stop crying and realise that this was what life was. My parents? Well, despite my repeated requests to move schools, BRGS said there’s no problems and that maybe I’m perhaps just scared of a bit of hard work. Besides, other schools don’t have the smart kids at them so the conditions there must be worse, right? And anyway, any bullying can’t be as bad as I made out, because they sat me in the room with the bullies and they said sorry to me. Yes, really. Come UCAS time, despite being repeatedly told I had the potential for, and securing and interview at, Oxbridge, and a place at Imperial, I declined both, because I didn’t want to again go to an ‘elite institution’. Instead I found the university with the lowest possible entry grades for an accredited course in the hope that I could just disappear into anonymity. A waste? Not at all , because my time at my chosen Uni opened my eyes that not every institution was like BRGS.
This isn’t some ‘pity me too’ story. I am lucky, I have had several good breaks, I have worked hard and as a result have the tools and resource available to me to try to overcome the trauma that others do not – especially the kid that’s not with us any more. I am still alive. I am not hugry, cold or thirsty. I feel I have ‘succeeded’ in these things despite BRGS, not because of it. But through work with my Psych, I understand it is unlikely I will ever lead a 'normal life' and instead my life will be more about constant work on improvement and managing the long-term effects, echoes and scars of my time at this school which have negatively impacted every day, every event, everything I do ever since, and will continue to do so. I work on this every day, and will need to do so for as long as I live.
Anyway, getting to my point:
Who knows, maybe every school is like this? I only went to one, so I have no basis for comparison. One old pupil having a moan on mumsnet isn’t a very scientific study is it? Well. To all those parents asking ‘should I move my kids, cos they’ll get good grades here but it sounds a bit sketchy, but maybe Ofsted are a bit wokey-cokey-lefty nowadays so it’s OK’.
Maybe the teachers have changed, maybe the culture has changed, who knows. It doesn’t matter. Get a grip. Give your kids the opportunity to get out if there is even an inkling they are unhappy. Because I can tell you from first hand experience, being trapped there with no escape for 7 years has thoroughly, comprehensively, f**d me up. I know I would give everything I own, every achievement, every qualification, every life experience, for the ability to just feel happiness and contentment like a ‘normal human’, for the ability to give and receive healthy love, for a good nights sleep without medication, to no longer shake like a leaf or to be able to switch off and relax. BRGS was the start of a life journey that has comprehensively robbed me of those things, but it need not rob your kids too.
Anon. BRGS Y7-13, '90s-2000s.