Mab of Dream

Only 1% of the population of the world have a University degree

I have a BA (Hons) in History and Philosophy. I am a few minor amendments (and a pass, of course) away from a Master of Arts in History.

You are least likely to go to University if you were born in August, in comparison to any other month of the year. You are 20% more likely to go to University if you were born in September, than if you were born in August.

I was born in August.

In 2000, it was still the case that those from the top three social classes, in Britain, were five times more likely to go to University than those from the bottom three social classes. Only 19% of those in the latter group have A-Levels.

I am in the bottom three social classes. I have three A-Levels.

In the entire of Britain, you are less likely to go to University if you are from the West Midlands region (which inc. Shropshire, Staffordshire, Birmingham, Solihull, the Black Country, Herefordshire, Worcestershire, Coventry and Warwickshire), than in any other region.

I am from the West Midlands.

Within the West Midlands region, the area with the lowest number of people with degrees is the Black Country.

I am from the Black Country.

You are less likely to go to University if neither of your parents has a degree.

I am the first person in my entire extended family, both maternal and paternal, to get a degree.

In 1994, only 15,699 students in UK Universities had a disability or special needs.

I was one of them.

The drop-out rate for those undertaking a degree in Britain can be as high as 40% in some Universities.

I did not drop out of University.

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So what am I saying? That this, right here, is ammunition against myself to sit back and think about the odds of getting where I am now, academically. Instead of glaring at the dissertation and seriously considering not doing the minor amendments. This isn't even a MacBeth 'I am in blood steep'd so far, that should I wade no more...' moment. This is honest to goodness, 'Johnny, what the fuck are you on this time?' I REALLY piss myself off sometimes.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate the fact that the dissertation is hanging over me like some thick, black, monster's wings, just waiting to bite me. I hate the fact that writing it took Vegas away from me; and contributed so viciously to the 'bends' state I had at the back end of last year. I hate that it was there when all I wanted to do was get the website sorted and away; and that it put a deadline on it beforehand, that made me get so AAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH afterwards. I hate the uncertainty it left me with, spiritually; and the precipice it's left me on now; when I don't know anything that's happening in the world, with my friends, and who I am now, and where this is all leading me and what I'll be when I get there, and if it's too late now not to go.

And what limbo land it's left me in AGAIN. So THAT'S why academics don't declare their religious leanings, for all the talk of reflexivity and the call to arms for Pagans? And THAT'S why the more spiritually wise Pagans run in the opposite direction.

And I hate this paranoia. And I hate the fact that no-one's alright. And I hate the fact that I'm too fucked-up to save the whole world. I want to be back where it was all certain; where I knew the difference between self-confidence and arrogance; and where I felt like I knew some answers. When someone looking on would be more likely to see me in Tyr than in tears. When I didn't feel this constant sense of dread that I've given up on some big, almighty cause. When it wasn't all just a long and bloody battle.

Every day I work with the statistics. I do everything I can to raise aspirations; provide opportunities; help the Aimhigher students stay in University, once they're there. Every day I look at those statistics and occasionally think, 'that's like me', but don't take that in. My whole job revolves around the fact that it's going to be hard work for these people; and yet I fit ALL of those categories and don't allow myself to believe for one moment that it could just possibly be hard work for me too. I didn't even acknowledge that doing an MA fullstop is hard work, until Anna e-mailed me to tell me one afternoon. So it's hard work; and I do it with all that baggage, PLUS a full-time job; then still beat myself up because the trillion other things couldn't be done. Juggling writing 1000 words with uploading pictures onto the website and wondering why I was so stressed.

Wondering why I'm going so beserk now.

One day, I'm going to give myself a break and when that happens, and stays happened, you can bet that there will be a resounding cheer heard from here to the Pacific coast.

Mind you, I will probably have just dropped dead at that moment in time. Thinking on it and knowing me.

'kin Hell, I fucking hate myself right now and that's the truth. Sooner I get my act together, the better.

yours
Mab
xxxxx