The excitement and joy of getting your P’s in Year 11 (or 12, depending on some people… I am people) is unimaginable. Finally being able to drive into school with the pride of gaining some independence is one of the best feelings ever.
Only that feeling disappears the moment you enter Gate 14. That’s when the challenge begins.
Up until last year, Year 11 and 12 students had the privilege of parking right outside the school in the prime spot: The Carpark. Cement blocks marked the bays, showing you exactly where to park and how far to be from the next car. The space could fit nearly two whole grades. But in late 2022, we – the now Year 12s – were given news that shattered our hearts.
“You are to no longer park in the parking lot outside the school. Please enter Gate 14 to park next to the Branwhite.”
Those cold words, delivered by none other than Mr. Arthur himself, broke the spirit of the class of 2025. Though it was nothing personal right?
The discomfort was audible – outrage, disappointment, and grief at losing something so many senior students held dear. That year group meeting ended with every licence-holder leaving The Space with a heavy heart. How could something so precious be taken from us?
Since then, we’ve been battling with blood, sweat, and tears for a decent spot in the gravel “car park.” If you can even call it that. No lines, no cement blocks, no order. Just chaos. It has been the saddest year of our driving lives.
And the walk? Treacherous. To sign in and out, we must trek to the other side of the school, with only two options: over the Stairs of Doom, or through the tunnel of weird smells and loud noises. Every step is a painful reminder of what we lost. Then, of course, you have to walk all the way back just to reach your car again. The trauma is unspeakable.
Personally, I got my car washed only a week ago. It came home to me with polished rims, sparkling windows, and spotless white paint that gleamed like snow on mountain peaks. That Sunday was beautiful. Driving down Green Road in my squeaky-clean car, I felt like a million dollars. But the moment I turned into Gate 14, reality hit. The raised track shook my wheels, and the crunch of gravel beneath them sent shivers down my spine. A trail of dust followed me, brown and black dust against the freshly polished paint. I knew then – it was the end of my clean car era.
This new car park will forever haunt the class of 2025 and every year group after us. Our polished cars will always leave covered in dust before the 3:20 bell even rings.
As Year 11s and 12s drive out of Gate 14, we are taunted by the sight of fifteen cars parked comfortably in the old carpark—the one that once fit seventy or more. Hopefully, one day WCC will change its mind, giving this small, overflowing gravel pit a break, and allowing students back into the original parking spaces, just for old times’ sake.
