‘I realised Psychology was my calling’

I still remember the day I approached one of my English teachers during a half-term revision class. I asked her how I could achieve a good grade in my English GCSE. Her response – 'if I were you, I'd try and just scrape a pass' – could not have been more discouraging. At the time, I didn't quite grasp the enormity of that statement, but this encounter changed my life. 

It will probably come as no surprise that I didn't do too well in English, or any of the other core subjects for that matter. I had unconsciously taken on a label that she had placed on me and allowed it to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. On Results Day, it finally dawned on me that I had been failed by the school. I firmly believed that I had the potential to do much better, and that my grades were not truly representative of my ability. 

Yet still, if someone had told me then that I would end up pursing psychology as a career, I would have laughed in their face. It would have seemed such a far-fetched dream…

From dark shadows…

I grew up in a very deprived area and attended an under-resourced school. Through the course of the five-year period that I was there, we went through four different headteachers – some of them acting, one that was brought in from a nearby school to turn things around, and another that ended up staying for the long haul. After-school fights were a regular occurrence and we were often met with police at the school gates at home time. Managing challenging and disruptive behaviour was top priority during our lessons, learning was at the bottom. Looking back, I think that if we had been given adequate support and resources, more of us may have been able to perform better and reach our full potential.

On leaving school, I decided to re-take my core subjects on a fast-track basis whilst also doing a BTEC in Fashion and Clothing, something I was interested in at the time. With sheer determination and hard work on my part, and support from my college tutors, I was able to turn my grades around. Imagine the feeling of joy when I got an A in the same subject that I was told to just try and scrape a pass in, the year before. It was a turning point – I realised the power of self-belief, but also how labels can render us powerless. 

I decided I wanted to do A-Levels and maybe even go to university one day. I was met with more discouragement and was dissuaded by others because A-Levels were supposedly too 'difficult' and academic for me. My applications to colleges had my predicted grades, which were promising, but my poor grades from school seemed to be casting a dark shadow over them. The fact that I had done so poorly the first time around made them doubt my ability. I remember the interviewers asking me if I was sure I wouldn't be best placed sticking with a more vocational course. I argued my case and managed to get a number of conditional places at the colleges of my choice. I achieved the grades I needed, and the following year commenced my A-Levels. 

…to a growing love for Psychology

Doing my A-Levels was the most refreshing and enjoyable experience ever. I relished it. A classroom with real teaching and learning, without disruption, and no supply teacher telling us to turn to a certain page in a textbook and 'just get on with it'. This involved an active learning style andwas a somewhat alien experience to me, but I loved it. I found my Psychology A-Level really intriguing, and it was then that I decided this was something I wanted to explore further, and do a degree in. 

I passed all my A-Levels with flying colours and excelled at university. During my final year, however, life happened. This was a really challenging and emotionally demanding time for me, but the tremendous support from the course meant that I was able to successfully complete my degree, and graduate with an excellent grade that I was immensely proud of. 

During my time at university, my love for psychology was ever-growing. Undertaking a placement within a rehabilitation setting for people who had experienced a Traumatic Brain Injury, as well as the voluntary work as a peer mentor at university and counselling with ChildLine, reinforced my love for working with and helping people. These experiences made me realise that psychology was my calling.

I was fortunate enough to secure a post working with Autistic children shortly after graduating and continued to actively search for Assistant Psychologist posts. These posts were the gold standard at the time (and continue to be); notorious for being really competitive and difficult to attain. I decided to also seek out honorary opportunities after contacting numerous psychologists in my locality, who sadly didn't have anything on offer but were generous enough to give me thorough feedback on my covering letters. 

I then came across a consultant clinical psychologist who offered me a part-time honorary assistant psychologist post in a psychiatric hospital, which I accepted. I did this post alongside my paid post, in order to both build on my experience, and to help make ends meet. I was in a somewhat privileged position, however, in that I lived at home. This would have not been an option otherwise. 

This post provided my first real exposure to the world of psychology, and real insight into what the role of a psychologist entailed. I had so many invaluable opportunities to develop my skills, and to meet some inspiring people. Most importantly, it allowed me to get a foot in the door. I was also fortunate to have a supervisor who always listened to me and encouraged my 'out of the box' creative ideas, tapping into my strengths. That made a big difference. In fact, as I write this, I realise just how much of a community psychology really is. I am so grateful for the people that I have met along my journey, including those I have interviewed for The Psychologist. Each of them has influenced, shaped and taught me something meaningful that I will forever treasure. 

Barriers and challenges

Following this post, I went onto secure numerous assistant psychologist posts in a number of different settings, including physical health psychology and adult mental health. What really struck me during these experiences was the challenges that individuals from minoritised groups and communities were experiencing when accessing these services. Some of these challenges pertained to cultural and linguistic barriers. In fact, one of my most rewarding experiences was conducting brief stabilisation work with a client who was a refugee. I was able to adapt the interventions (under supervision) and conduct sessions in the client's native tongue, which I was also fluent in. 

This experience really highlighted the importance of adapting interventions to make them accessible, and cross-culturally valid. It is no secret that psychology is predominantly a white middle class profession, and over the years, I have also observed the barriers and challenges that a lack of representation poses, both on a personal and professional level. There have been times where my intersectional minoritised identities have made me feel like a minority, or even a minority within a minority! I have questioned whether I belong within the profession. However, the positive impact that my presence as a minority has had in my work has also made me realise why my presence is in fact increasingly important and needed, and this has been a real motivating factor for me. I truly believe that to be able to make a difference and to bring about change, we need to be the change. 

Putting pen to paper to share my story has felt like a daunting task. It has brought up a host of mixed emotions for me. You see, until very recently I saw my story and journey into psychology as one full of deficits and weaknesses. What I now realise is that it was in fact challenges and barriers that I experienced – that I had no control over – that made my journey difficult, and that was through no fault of my own. 

When I was in secondary school, if someone had told me that I would have a bachelor's degree, and would one day be pursuing a doctorate, I wouldn't have believed them. But all the same, here I am. So my story isn't one of deficits, it is one of strengths; fighting against the odds, overcoming adversity and self-fulfilling prophecies. Being an ethnically minoritised Muslim female from an underprivileged background and stepping into the world of psychology has been no easy feat, but I'm living to tell the tale. And I'm sharing my story in the hope that if you have any lived experiences in common with me, my journey inspires you to not let the obstacles in your life prevent you from pursuing your dreams.

• Fauzia Khan is currently working as an Assistant Psychologist in the NHS. You can connect with Fauzia on X: @itsFauziaKhan