Hold on to the small moments - they’re the ones that stay,
The final weeks of primary school carry a kind of magic that feels almost impossible to explain.
For many students — especially those with disabilities — this time of year is filled with joy, uncertainty, nostalgia, and possibility all at once.
It’s the moment when childhood still clings gently to their shoulders, but the future is already nudging them forward.
The final weeks of primary school are filled with joy,, nostalgia, and moments children carry with them long after they leave.
Why the Transition Hits Differently for Students with Disabilities
Year 7 is a big shift for any student — but for students with disabilities, it can feel enormous in ways others don’t always see it.
Most students move into high school with friends they’ve known for years.
Many students with disabilities don’t.
Instead, they often go to the high school that can meet their needs, even if it means:
- separating from every familiar face
- losing routines that felt safe
- starting socially from scratch
- navigating new expectations before they feel ready
It isn’t just a new school.
It’s a new identity waiting to be formed.
High school doesn’t just change your environment - it changes your sense of who you can be.
Belonging often lives in shared moments - when the whole community comes together.
The Bittersweet Ending of Year 6
Primary school wasn’t perfect for me.
There were difficult moments, assumptions, and experiences that shaped how I saw myself.
But mixed in with all of that were memories I still cherish deeply:
- whole-school fundraisers where everyone came together
- Christmas parties, Easter celebrations, and community events
- the comfort of my favourite teacher and teacher’s aide
- the excitement of the last week of Year 6 — bowling, the picnic, the farewell
These moments mattered.
They softened the harder days and reminded me that belonging can appear in flashes, even when it isn’t consistent.
And as Year 6 came to an end, I felt something I didn’t yet have the words for—
the ache of leaving a world I had known since Kindergarten.
I realised I wouldn’t be coming back.
The people who filled my everyday life would no longer be part of my routine.
The safety of familiarity was slipping away.
But even through the sadness, I felt something else too:
quiet excitement at the possibility of high school,
of starting fresh,
of growing beyond the assumptions that had followed me throughout primary school.
You don’t realise a chapter is ending until you feel it close.
Becoming Someone New Without Losing Who You Are
Starting high school reshapes children in ways they don’t always notice at first.
It’s the moment where:
- independence becomes necessary, not optional
- identity begins to stretch
- strengths reveal themselves in new environments
- friendships deepen, fade, or shift
- children learn to see themselves outside the world they’ve known
For students with disabilities, this identity shift is even more layered.
They’re navigating who they want to be
without letting systems, assumptions, or labels define them first.
They’re not just starting a new school.
They’re starting a new version of themselves.
Growing up is when you start choosing who you are - not remembering who you are.
Starting high school isn’t just a change in buildings - it’s the beginning of a new sense of self
You don’t realise how much a place has shaped you until you know you won’t be coming back.
When Friendships Change Without Warning
At the end of Year 6, I believed I could keep everything the same —
primary school friendships and new high school friendships.
And for a little while, I tried.
But life has a quiet way of shifting things, even when you hold on tightly.
As high school became my daily world, I had less time — and less emotional space — to stay connected with the friends I grew up with.
Eventually, I had to let go.
Not because those friendships didn’t matter,
but because growing required space I didn’t know how to create any other way.
I saw the same shift in my peers — best friends in Year 7 suddenly sitting apart in the playground, not out of anger, but out of growth.
Some friendships stay. Some transform. Some drift. All of them shape you.
A Message to Year 6 Students
High school is a big change — and it’s okay if it feels overwhelming.
It may not look the way you imagined.
It may feel harder than you expected.
Some days, it might even feel like you’re learning a completely different language in a different country.
But here’s the truth no one tells you:
It gets easier.
Slowly, you learn the rhythms.
You learn the rules.
You learn where you fit and who makes you feel safe.
And little by little, people begin to see you for who you really are —
not just your disability,
not just your support needs,
but your humour, your strengths, your kindness, your ideas.
High school may not welcome you instantly.
But it will open up to you.
People will let you in.
And you will find your people.
You are not behind - you are becoming.
Friendships change as children grow - not because they didn’t matter, but because growth makes room for something new.
A Message for Parents & Teachers
If your child is finishing primary school, you may be holding pride, nostalgia, fear, and joy — sometimes all at once.
That’s normal.
This transition is big.
Children feel it too, even when they don’t say it out loud.
For Parents
You are the steady place your child returns to.
Your presence has shaped who they are and who they feel safe to become.
For Teachers
The care you’ve poured into this child becomes part of their internal world.
Your influence travels with them into high school and beyond.
Feeling behind doesn’t mean you’re behind - it means you're becoming.
Even as children grow more independent, the safety of being supported still matters.
Closing Reflection
Leaving primary school is more than a milestone —
it’s a transformation.
It’s a moment where childhood and independence meet for the first time in a way that truly matters.
My hope is that every child stepping into Year 7 carries the best parts of their childhood with them — the joy, the curiosity, the courage —
and finds the confidence to let new strengths grow.
Let them grow, but remind them them never outgrow themselves
Add comment
Comments