OU blog

Personal Blogs

Half Term, Half Human: A Mature Student’s Survival Blog

Visible to anyone in the world

Ah, half term. That magical week when the coffee mug stops trembling, the alarm clock gets a brief sabbatical, and you briefly remember what daylight looks like. For us mature students working in further education, it’s less “wild week off” and more “necessary system reboot.” Think of it as switching yourself off and back on again—like an overworked printer that’s starting to smell faintly of desperation.

The Reset (or at least, the Attempt)

You begin the week with great intentions: yoga, reading, meal prep, perhaps finally tackling the “cupboard of doom.” But inevitably, it ends up as pyjamas, snacks, and the occasional “I’ll just check my emails” spiral. You tell yourself it’s restorative. You deserve this. You need this. You’ve earned the right to merge with the sofa like some academic burrito.

And yet, Monday looms.

The Return: Operation Motivation

The first day back greets you with the cheerful announcement that you’ll be spending it at Sandon Bowers for an “outdoor motivational challenge day” with supported students, because nothing says welcome back to reality like being cold, damp, and expected to look inspirational while wearing a harness.

The male staff, naturally, have developed a sudden and contagious fear of heights. Which leaves me—proudly sporting my “festively plump” post-half-term physique—to demonstrate “how easy it is” to scale the climbing wall.

You stand there, staring up at the wall. The wind whips your face. Somewhere in the distance, a seagull laughs. The students cheer you on, half out of encouragement, half out of morbid curiosity.

And as you begin your ascent (a generous term for whatever flailing occurs), you can’t help but think of Mary Wollstonecraft, your current literary companion. The champion of reason, women’s rights, and intellectual independence. Would she approve of this scenario?

Probably not. But she’d definitely appreciate the irony of a woman literally climbing her way through modern education—powered only by tea, stubbornness, and the lingering hope of a biscuit at the top.

The Aftermath

You survive. Barely. You are cold, muddy, and approximately one emotional breakdown away from Googling “jobs involving indoor heating.” But you’ve done it. You’ve inspired your students, terrified the men, and lived to tell the tale.

Now it’s early bed, fluffy socks, and a quiet mental countdown:
Just six weeks until the next half term.

And yes—the Christmas decorations are absolutely going up this weekend. Because if anything can motivate a weary educator to keep climbing (literally or figuratively), it’s the promise of twinkly lights, mince pies, and a socially acceptable excuse to drink Baileys before noon.

 Moral of the Story:
You don’t have to be Mary Wollstonecraft to inspire others. Sometimes, just showing up, strapping in, and hauling your post-holiday behind up a wall is enough.

Now… where’s that countdown app?

Permalink
Share post

"Overqualified, Under-Time-Served, and Mildly Offended"

Visible to anyone in the world
Edited by Nikole Karissa Gaye, Wednesday 8 October 2025 at 17:39

Today, I learned that being highly qualified, wildly experienced, and possessing the patience of a caffeinated saint still doesn't count for much if you haven’t ticked the magic box that reads:
“Been here long enough to be considered serious.”

Apparently, time served in your current role trumps actual ability to do the job, which is a relief, really, because now I know what to do with all my qualifications: use them to build a small fort and hide in it until the required probationary moon cycle has passed.

Don’t get me wrong — I get it. Rules are rules. But when you're a mature student (translation: running on caffeine, ambition, and the tired you can’t nap your way out of), being told “No, not yet, you haven't been here long enough” feels a little like being grounded… for being too competent.

It’s like turning up to a bake-off with a three-tier Victoria sponge, only to be told,
“Lovely cake, but we only judge fairy cakes made on the premises.”

Oh, okay then. I’ll just eat my own cake and stare longingly at the job board.

But here’s the twist (because there’s always a twist, otherwise we’d spiral):
Maybe… just maybe… this is a blessing in disguise.

Yes, I said it. Maybe this little career hiccup — this beautifully wrapped parcel of professional rejection — is the universe’s way of whispering,
“Oi, focus on your degree, will you? You’ve got dreams to chase, papers to write, and a whole generation of neurodivergent Picassos waiting for you.”

Because that’s the actual goal, right?
To become a Special Needs Art Teacher Extraordinaire in FE — helping learners express themselves with glitter, glue, and unapologetic creativity, all while navigating the occasional flying paintbrush and existential crisis.

So while I lick my mildly bruised ego and remind myself not to storm HR with a scroll of my qualifications like Gandalf at a staff meeting, I’m going to breathe, refocus, and trust that my time is coming. Probably just not this Tuesday.

To anyone else out there being told they’re not “long enough in the building” to dream big — hang in there. We may be stuck at the bottom of the ladder, but we’re wearing better shoes and carrying the kind of experience you can’t fake.

Besides, we’re mature students. We’ve done harder things — like figuring out Microsoft Teams without swearing. Mostly.

Until next time, stay caffeinated, stay hopeful, and never let them dull your sparkle (or your CV).

Yours in eternal probation,
A Frustrated Future FE Art Queen

Permalink 1 comment (latest comment by Rachel Louise Griffin, Wednesday 8 October 2025 at 19:22)
Share post

This blog might contain posts that are only visible to logged-in users, or where only logged-in users can comment. If you have an account on the system, please log in for full access.

Total visits to this blog: 9144