It’s that time of year again. In the UK, A-Level results arrive this week, GCSEs next. Traditional and social media will be full of articles about “what to do if you didn’t make the grade”.
I won’t be writing one of those.
Yes, I messed up my A-Levels. I scraped into my chosen polytechnic, graduated from university with honours, and built a reasonably successful career. But that was over 30 years ago. I’m also male and white, and that privilege has opened doors that might not have opened for others. My experience isn’t a template.
What I do want to write about is the magic of a gap year.
After 14 years of education, maybe you need a break before doing more. Maybe you want time before resits or reapplying to different universities. Maybe university isn’t for you at all. Or maybe you just want to live a bit before deciding what’s next.
Gap years are amazing.
Challenging the “gap year = unemployed” mindset
Some people will tell you a gap year is “just another name for being unemployed”. I think they’re wrong.
A gap year can be a year of growth, challenge, adventure, and learning about yourself in ways that a classroom can’t teach.
Two gap years, two very different stories
As a parent to two adult children, I’ve seen this first-hand.
My eldest son, now 20, took not one but two gap years.
The first followed his passion for cycling. He worked as a holiday rep leading cycling tours, returned to the UK to work in a warehouse, and tested whether he could make it as a professional cyclist. The racing results don’t matter — he’s great, but greatness isn’t the same as being exceptional. What mattered was what he learned along the way:
- How to train 16 hours a week alongside a full-time job.
- How to plan every meal and every drink to fuel performance.
- How to deal with disappointment when a promised training arrangement fell through.
- How to adapt in a foreign country, find a house share with a professional cyclist (thanks Sophie), and live his best life until returning to race in the UK.
His second gap year was more “traditional” — travel to a variety of European destinations, a few weeks volunteering for a charity in India, more warehouse work (he needed to fund it all), and more racing but this time without the professional ambitions.
There were challenges too. An internship had led to the promise of a job, but that never materialised. Undeterred, he followed up and found a new opportunity with the same firm — only for that to go quiet as well, this time because of an administrative error that meant no contract was ever issued. By then he was applying elsewhere. And it was the self-confidence built over two gap years, outside formal education, and without relying solely on his parents for guidance and support, that made him shine as a candidate in his assessment centre for the role. That confidence also helped him be certain the degree apprenticeship was the right route for him — so much so that he let go of his deferred place at The University of Sheffield.
Looking ahead
My youngest son is 18. He’ll get his A-Level results on Thursday and we have fingers (and toes) crossed that he gets the grades for his place at Exeter University. But before that, there are travel dreams to chase — which will also be funded by casual work.
Oktoberfest is already in the calendar (inspired by our Interrailing trip together last year). Applications are in for a ski season. There are plans for a few months in South East Asia. He’s seen his brother’s adventures and has role models in his parents and maternal uncle, who all travelled extensively before him.
When I first travelled, I had no idea what I was doing — I was the first in my family to go to university, the first to go Interrailing, and the first to fly around the world (that wasn’t on a gap year — I took time out after a few years in the workplace — and, by then, my career direction was set and it would have been very difficult to change).
The takeaway
Of course, not everyone will have the opportunities that my sons have. I wrote of my privilege, and my sons benefit from this too — perhaps even more so. They have both had part-time jobs alongside their school work, played sports, and taken part in many other extra-curricular activities that expanded their horizons. And my wife and I will continue to do everything we can to support them, just as we always have.
But here’s my message: think about a gap year.
It might not be for you — and that’s fine. It might be harder to make it a reality — but I urge you to consider it, if you can possibly find a way, because it might open your eyes to a world of opportunity. At the very least, it could give you the kind of stories, skills, and confidence that make you stand out from the crowd, spark curiosity in future employers, and set you on a path you might never have found otherwise.
And that’s why a “gap year” is certainly not a euphemism for being unemployed whilst living with your parents.
Featured image: created by ChatGPT
