By Georgia Horrocks

Just another final SCAB 

That’s right, loyal readers, it’s my final SCAB. It’s time to cut the cord, say goodbye, tear myself away from these brick-en walls I’ve come to call The Studio.

Anyone that’s read our scabs will know we’re a strange, eclectic bunch, fond of talking about chips and pencils. At parties we’re the ones moaning about lack of sleep or, worse, trying to draw people into conversation about a new ad we saw on the weekend. 

The truth is, joining SCA is much like joining a cult. A blues-singing, chilli-vodka-sipping, speech-giving, maniacally-clapping, ‘MORNINGS’-greeting, Mojo-dancing, PMA-ing, miniature-collecting, Jurassic-Park-watching, motorbike-driving, birth-giving, Gregs-visiting, gourmet-cooking, over-drinking, tinder-swiping, tooth-saw-making, poem-writing, hug-giving, idea-slaying, copy-class-attending, gender-less-toilet-visiting, UFO-documentary-making, bowling-bogie-story-writing, arduino-making, period-discussing, voice-over-recording, Imaginary-friend-selling, break-up-ing, make-up-ing, break-up-ing, Kizzy-witnessing, Brixton-crazy-enduring, Chicken-Liquor-ing, Cocktail-swigging, avoiding-bank-statement-ing, JT-twerking, elicit-loving, prison-attending, award-winning, supporting, and laughing-until-we-is-crying cult. 

A cult that wouldn’t work without its incredible, selfless, talented, dedicated and caring leaders:

Hannah, who has picked up the pieces with just about all of us, yet still manages to seamlessly manage Portfolio days and placement spreadsheets. Someone who has gone on walks with me when times were bad and given me hugs hello when times were good.

Honor, always On It, smiling, there for a chat, a bevvy, and most importantly a laugh.

Clare, our little blueberry, with her sexy Irish lilt, warm smile and health-food advice.

Ian, never far from a bowl of grapes, owner of the most wonderful orange jumper I’ve ever seen, listener of drunken musings, creator of a wrinkled creature named Nozzle, go-to Photoshopper, and all round lovely man. 

Toufic, who’s name I thought was Tooth Pick for a good few weeks. An olive by nature he is well-travelled, hopelessly cool, kindhearted and genuinely interesting. 

There’s Vicky, who’s tirelessly answered my emails, Caz host of the best class ever invented and Pete comedian-extraordinaire. 

Finally, there’s Marc. An enigma that’s hard to explain. I could talk about the game-playing, speech-giving, pipe-smoking, Marc but these are just pieces of the great persona. 

Really, Marc is an incredibly inspiring businessman with a dream to change education and a big enough heart to do it.