'Twas The Night Before Results Day...

Tomorrow, a quarter of a million young people will get the results of their post-16 studies. Whether an A-Level, a BTEC, or something else, it's easy to see how this Thursday can end up being a stressful and emotional day for so many.

For many, their results are a gateway to further study. For me, wanting to go to university was about going on a voyage of personal and intellectual discovery.

At eighteen years old I had no idea who I was or what I wanted to do with my life - and in a land of single-subject degrees and pick-when-you're-young specialism, it's easy to forget that it's okay to not always know what you want to be when you grow up.

The night before getting my A-Level results, back in the days of dial-up internet and MSN messenger, I threw a house party for ten of my friends. Fifty people showed up, not including the police who arrived at the small council house I called home at around 11pm to disperse the crowd.

I spent much of that night nervous not just for my results, but for what my mother would say when she got back from her holiday and saw that the carpet in the hallway had a burn mark on it.

The following morning I got on my bike and, hungover, cycled the 30 minute journey to school. There, waiting patiently for us, was our head-of-sixth-form. She took one look at me, asked if I'd had a rough night, and then apologised that the piece of paper she was holding wasn't going to make me feel any better.

I'd done okay. I'd missed a couple of my predicted grades, but not by much. It was a decidedly average set of results, and I was as annoyed with myself as I was relieved. Then it dawned on me. Doing the math in my head, I was ten UCAS points short of my chosen degree's entry requirements.

I was sat in a corner of our school's office when my head-of-sixth-form caught up with me again, and encouraged me to call the university I was certain no longer wanted me.

"Hi, I didn't quite get the grades I needed."

"That's okay, we really liked your application and we'd still love to offer you a place! See you in September."

The conversation took less then five minutes, and I cycled home with looser shoulders and a sense of relief that lasted right through until I remembered that hallway carpet.

I didn't know what I wanted to do - what I wanted to be - or even who I really was. But I knew that I'd be able to go and discover some of those things somewhere new, learning more about the world and myself than I ever had before.

Fast-forward twenty years and here I am, working in higher education after two decades of wonderfully varied and interdisciplinary roles and opportunities, waiting for people who weren't born when I got my own A-Level results to go through the same set of stresses, hopes, and fears that I did back at the turn of the millennium.

Our incredible Head of Student Support, Alisha Kilich , has written a fantastic post on our website for those about to get results, and I encourage you to share it with your network.

I'm so proud of the way we do recruitment and admissions at LIS: The London Interdisciplinary School as, without giving anything away, I really truly feel that I'm part of a team who cares about people and not just their grades. About our offer holders' passion and curiosity and potential - not whether they know what they want to be when they grow up.

Whether you're a student awaiting results, a nervous parent, or an educator braced for a full-on day, I hope we all take a moment to remember that it's okay not to have your whole future figured out - and that results day is just a day of discovery like any other.

Heck, I'm still not sure I know what I want to be when I grow up.

I can't wait to see who joins us in September whatever results they get tomorrow. I only hope that nobody else made the mistake that I did and decided to throw a party the night before results day. Trust me, it won't end well.