Private School Problems: The reality of the ‘rahs’

Even though 1 in 5 of us went to Private school at UoB do we all deserve to be branded a massive poshy?


Coming to uni is a daunting time and we all feel the pressure of making a good first impression.

For one in five of us, this process can be hindered by revealing that we went to private school.

I’m not suggesting that everyone judges us immediately, but it can sometimes feel like an uphill battle trying to convince people that you’re not a poshy.

Obviously there’s no smoke without fire and a lot of people that have come from private school do wear chinos and probably have visited Thailand for either spiritual awakening or cracking banter.

But it’s exactly these toffs that the rest of us don’t want to be lumped with.

There are two types of privately educated people: the aforementioned wealthy elite,  and then the normal kids who get their fees paid for them.

I belong to the latter group. The Ministry Of Defence kindly paid a proportion of my school fees, and you’d be surprised how many people are in the same boat (a dingy, not a yacht unfortunately).

So I’d like to take a moment to dispel a few stereotypes and shed some light on the reality.

Chinos all day ee’rday

Never in my LIFE have I been tempted to buy a pair of chinos.

As a girl maybe this is irrelevant because why would I, but as a posho a pair of chinos is staple right?

Well, no, not really. We are just as inclined as everyone else to hurl Inbetweeners style “chino wankers!” abuse from the car window as we drive past the upper class digs.

50 shades of chinos

Jack Wills Wardrobe

There will always be a few of us that are kitted head to toe in Jack Wills or Abercrombie, heck there was even someone at my school with a Jack Wills hammock for God’s sake. (Don’t ask me why because I honestly couldn’t tell you why Jack Wills are even selling hammocks in the first place.)

But believe me, most of us are fussed about pissing money away on overpriced clothes.

This is the only Jack Wills item I own and even this was a gift.

At least my nails are posh I suppose

You know a lot of hymns off by heart

I can’t pretend this isn’t true actually, I’m sorry.

When you’re singing hymns three times a week every week they really get drilled into you, and some of them are actually kind of catchy.  ‘Shine Jesus Shine’ is the soundtrack to my school career, and I’m not even ashamed to admit it.

Give me oil in my lamp keep me burning, give me oil in my lamp I praaay

Dominate in Daddy’s four-wheel drive

Our family car is a Ford Fiesta and you can’t get much more average than that really.

We didn’t all just leave the Porsche at home when we arrived at uni simply because the boot is too small, contrary to popular belief most of us just don’t have fancy cars.

I’ve seen cars parked on the Vale that shame my trusty Fiesta, admittedly the majority outside Mason.

But regardless, there are plenty of state-schooled teenagers with nicer cars than my apparently incredibly posh parents.

Prefer our noble steeds as a mode of transport anyway…

Summering in South East Asia

It’s got private school written all over it. Instead of heading down to Aiya Napa or Maguluf for a week of carnage, the poshies opt for the more “sophisticated” summer trip to Thailand, where they all seem to discover their true calling and identity. Yeh, real original.

Rather than spending the summer in Thailand doing charity work that costs thousands, riding elephants, and pondering the meaning of life, I was in Pontypridd in Wales.

And yes, this is the same place paedophile Ian Watkins was from.

Living the high life?  Don’t get me wrong, Wales isn’t so bad, but I would be very surprised to be asked if I had a great “gap-yah” in the depths of the coal mining country on revealing I went to private school.

Expectation…

…Reality

Your Mum is a total MILF

The general opinion is that if you go to private school you have a rich Daddy who essentially just throws money at you, and what rich Daddy would be complete without a hot wife.

We’ve all seen Will’s mum from the Inbetweeners, boobs like beach balls and  armed with a fresh batch of cookies to feed you when you get home from school.

Unfortunately, the reality is somewhat different. They don’t all come like that I’m afraid. And in regards to the fresh batch of cookies, that’s sure not how it goes down in my house.

Sure I think my mum is good looking but she does more than cook and look pretty as the stereotype suggests.

The truth is, if you’re expecting us all to be the offspring of rich men and gold digging wives, you’ll probably be disappointed.

 

Believe it or not, they don’t all come like this

Mourning when Maggie died

Contrary to public opinion, when Margaret Thatcher died we didn’t hold a memorial in every single private school across the country, and many of us (although some did), did not drop to the floor in inconsolable grief.

Although I wasn’t downloading “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead”, I can’t say I was any more saddened to hear that Thatcher had died than I would have been to hear about the death of a friend’s cat.

Although private school is always going to be a hub of Tory flag-waving, let’s not forget that nearly all politicians these days come from private schools.

That’s right folks, most of the lefties were also born with that silver spoon in their mouths.

No statues erected at my school I’m afraid

So with all these things under consideration, next time someone tells you they’re from Private school, at least give them a chance before you brand them a full-on poshy.

Some of us are normal, even if we are the exception.