Confessions of a Final Year Student

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" is a question we repeatedly hear as we age. My consistent response to this question when I was younger was always, "a journalist."

The Stacey Dooley Investigates documentary is where my fascination started. Watching Stacey Dooley go through all sorts of unique experiences whilst being able to raise awareness about multiple issues was admirable.

Soon later, I started covering events that were happening in my local area at the time and releasing these articles through my blog page. In my attempts to mimic investigative journalist, Stacey Dooley, I started to go onto the streets and engage with homeless people to uncover the untold stories that the public was never interested in hearing.

My blog never had many visitors or engagements, but I genuinely loved writing.

So, at the age of about 16, I felt accomplished. I was ready to answer any questions about my future because I knew I wanted to be just like her. Knowing exactly what I wanted to be in a classroom full of doubt and uncertainty felt even better. For once, my anxiety did something right and prepared me for this exact question.

However, it wasn’t until I started to mingle with the private school kids in my area that I started to feel small. When the topic of our futures came up, I told the friendship group that I wanted to be a journalist. My answer was met with awkward smiles and flat expressions of “That’s cool”. It wasn’t quite the reaction I was expecting, compared to what I had experienced from my classmates in my state-funded school. On the contrary, I was the one who started to feel doubtful.

“I want to have my own business”

“I want to open up my dental clinic”

“I’m going to use my savings to go travelling after I finish school”

These were the answers of those around me who attended private school. I quickly started to feel that my dreams and aspirations weren’t as big, they weren’t as adventurous. Did my anxious mind not think this far ahead?

More recently, as I entered my early 20s, I revisited the idea of the aspirations of those who attended private school compared to those who went to a state school. Questions of ‘why’ ran through my mind as I started to go deeper into why state school kids were taught to be employees.

Whilst being inquisitive, I stumbled across a study from 2019 which found that the individuals who make up ‘Britain’s elite’ and hold the top jobs in the country, particularly in politics media and business, are five times more likely to have been educated at a private school. 2012, “A census for the Independent Schools Council shows 74.5% of pupils (280,671) are from white British backgrounds and 25.5% (95,904) are from minorities.” The statistics were never-ending, and my brain quickly became overwhelmed.

Why were private schools enrolled with a mostly white majority? Is there a bigger issue at hand than just merely the school you went to? Were my dreams too small? Should I aim to start up my digital magazine?

Everything in my life turned into a question that desired an answer.

And that was the instant of realisation for me.

Everything in my life turned into a question that desired an answer.

It’s true what they say that comparison is the thief of joy. I loved writing. I loved uncovering stories and delivering news to the public (even if it was just my family and close friends at the time). However, because I started to compare my passions and dreams to others around me, I started to think that I needed to aim ‘bigger’ – even if it wasn’t something I enjoyed doing.

I am now in the final year of my university degree, the peak period of balancing those graduate applications and submitting assignments on time. This final year of university has also been a full circle moment, as I am asked by my teachers, my parents, and friends, “What are you going to do after you graduate?”

Before I could answer, my mind briefly took a moment to think about how everything in my life turned into a question that desired an answer.

“A journalist.”

And for the first time in my life, my anxiety was calm. In the whirlwind of chaos and uncertainty that defines the final year of university, amidst all the doubts and questions, one thing shone brighter than ever before: I was made to be a journalist.

Written By Reiham Amin

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