this may be the last thing I write

This may be the last post you ever read from me. As I type this blog I face imminent peril. I take my life in my hands just sitting in this seat. For mere inches from my head stands the only wifi point in our school.

Panorama screened a report yesterday, highlighting concerns about the effects of wifi on us.

Now I have to admit that I didn't see it. I was too busy reading in an attempt to counteract the brain shrinking effects of the little antennae in my classroom. But I gather that with 70% of schools having wifi already and with that proportion rising rapidly, the programme questioned whether there had been sufficiently rigorous control and testing before rolling it out into classrooms.A Biologist called Dr Goldsworthy suggests that, although radiation levels are within safety guidelines and much less than mobile phones, there may be hidden dangers:

These include risks to fertility, genetic defects and cancer... The longer the exposure, the greater the risks.

"risks to fertility, genetic defects and cancer." The man is able to pull practically all of the common human paranoa triggers in one simple sentence - a genius. Hopefully a genius who is very wrong.

Let's face it, schools are the least of our worries. There are something like twelve cities covered completely by wifi in the UK - and that's not thinking about the fact that many kids will be surrounded by wifi at home, in cafes, restaurants, hotels, airports... even in that childhood oasis of junkfood McDonalds. These same kids are already surrounded by the radiation from their ubiquitous mobile phones and gadgets. TV and Radio signals buzz about us unseen. Bluetooth, wifi, uhf, vhf, fm, am, lw... my head's beginning to hurt. See! I told you that thing was dangerous.

Anyone know the rules of cricket?

Why did no one tell me that taking the cricket teams meant sacrificing your classroom? Why did no one tell me that I wouldn't be able to move in an already cramped space for bags covered in logos like Gunn & Moore, Slazenger and Kookabura? Why did no one tell me how much it hurts when you hit your shin off a cricket bat sticking up from behind the table? Why? Why? Why?

shock horror... dave and I agree.

I was going to write a political entry today. One about a photo I saw in the press that stopped me in my tracks and caused me to swallow many flies.

I was going to but I've had my thunder well and truly stolen by Dave who wrote what I was thinking with a lot more style than I could have. I can't believe we're actually like minded on something - must be some kind of precedent. So rather than waste your time reading something here why don't you pop across to his blog and read how I would like to be able to write it.

not corridors - today they are catwalks!

It's a non-uniform day. And for once I am not wearing a shirt and tie. Normally I dress like I normally would on days like these; it's a fear thing - In my first year here a teacher told me that it was a non uniform day; I duly turned up in a t-shirt and jeans, only to see everyone else in suits and the above teacher laughing hysterically. Its not easy to hide when you're six foot five and wearing a bright blue t-shirt. Normally I dress in a shirt and tie no matter what is on. I even wear a shirt and tie to Sports Day. But this time I swallowed hard and took the plunge.

Non uniform days are essentially fund raisers. The pupils (and staff) pay a £1 "fine" for the privilege of showing off their style. Some of them look atrocious but they seem happy with their fashion sense and, who knows, maybe it'll catch on in a few years and everyone will be dressing that way. It also gives the sports fans a chance to show off their colours. There are a multitude of Man Utd, Liverpool, Arsenal, Chelsea football shirts on display. The "anyone but Liverpool" brigade are also represented by a couple of guys wearing AC Milan shirts. Rugby is also being well supported this year. I've seen Ireland, Scotland, Italy, New Zealand and South African Jerseys (Well, only one SA shirt - and I only see that one when I look down)

The expense of these kind of events never stops at the £1 I've noticed. I overheard a couple of girls last week discussing their purchases for their outfits today - no expense was being spared as they put together the perfect look. For some of these kids this is a make or break situation. If they mess up they think that people will be laughing at them, if they don't spend the right amount of money they will be ridiculed, if they wear something that they've been seen wearing before they'll be mocked. Yesterday I saw a pupil, after school in tescos, in very stylish outfit. I asked if it was what she was going to be wearing today - she was still laughing after I'd packed the shopping and driven off.

In my day it was different. Actually, probably not - maybe it was me that was different. I didn't take any time planning fashion ensembles. I picked up whatever was on the floor from the weekend, smelt it to make sure it didn't reek, realised it did, opened a drawer, grabbed the first thing my hand touched and threw it on. I'd come to realise that the best way to stop worrying about what people were thinking about what I was wearing was not to care. I know that's easier said than done but I really think that if you worry about what people will think about something then they are more likely to think about it. The less thought you put in, they less other people will care. That, of course, does become a problem if you are the kind of person who wants people to care - and there are plenty of those about today.

But, do you know what really makes my heart sing? It's when you spot a pupil who has been making your life hell for months, when you spot a pupil who goes out of their way to irritate you, a pupil who never shows an ounce of respect; it's when you spot that pupil on non uniform day wearing a uniform. I'd almost have sympathy for them if I wasn't too busy practising my evil laugh.

forest fires and traffic jams

Typical! The smoking ban comes in at the weekend and then all I can see for the next couple of days is smoke.

First of all – hours after the ban came in - I was driving home from Ballymena when I heard a siren. I pulled in as two fire engines roared by. A few miles down the road I had to do it again for another two fire engines. When I looked to the west I was able to see what all the fuss was about – plumes of smoke from what seemed like large area of bog land. Here in Northern Ireland we don’t do forest fires – we do whin fires. In the recent dry weather they have become an increasingly common occurrence. Some wee skitter generally starts them maliciously for kicks – they then rage out of control for a while killing wildlife as they go. I’m seriously concerned that someday someone will get caught in one of these while out for a walk in the bog. That would have to be a horrible way to die. Why that thought doesn’t go through the heads of the wee hoods who start the things is beyond me. What some people do to entertain themselves in a ceasefire…

The next day I was driving home from work when I saw an odd shaped cloud in the sky above Coleraine. A grey vertical column reaching from ground level to high in the sky. It looked a lot like smoke – it was of course smoke, but I’m not the sharpest tool in the box and it took being overtaken by three fire engines and an ambulance for me to realise that a factory in the Wattstown industrial estate was in the p rocess of returning itself to the ground. While sitting in the queue of traffic going past Armstrong Medical I cursed the part of human nature that makes people slow down and stare at accidents, creating massive tailbacks and making it more difficult for emergency services to get to the scene – before rolling down my window, slowing down and gawping. I may be aware of the human flaw – it doesn’t mean I don’t suffer from it. I regretted rolling my window down later when I listened to radio and heard warnings to move inside your houses and close all windows in case the fumes were toxic – but maybe not as much as the crowd of people who stood outside watching the fire for several hours.

On both these occasions I had the same urge to buy a pack of 20 Marlboro that I get every time I see smoke. I quit smoking almost fifteen months ago and still I get the urge to light up every time I see someone smoking, or someone who looks like they are smoking, or indeed someone who looks like they once smoked… I get the urge to smoke when I see the colour grey. Ironically I get the strongest urge to smoke when watching the anti smoking adverts. They can be cutting open a diseased lung and all I’m thinking is “They showed that person smoking. Smoking’s good. I think I should smoke.” I watch the other teachers smoking at breaktime and I miss it – I miss it terribly. The wind will momentarily shift and I will catch a whiff of the smoke and it will smell so good – and I wonder why I ever quit in the first place. Then I’ll wake up the next day and not spend twenty minutes coughing and wheezing, and then I’ll walk up the stairs to my classroom and not take a moment by my door to catch my breath, and then I’ll look in my wallet and see that extra fiver – and I’ll remember why I quit.

With the smoking ban in place I thought it would be easier for me but in truth it has made it more difficult. Now I see people smoking outside every bar, every office, every restaurant. I see them everywhere. I really do have mixed feelings about the ban. Of course it’s good that people no longer have to breathe other people’s smoke, and it’s good that it is making so many people consider kicking the habit – but – well, I (say it quietly) actually quite liked the smell of smoke when I went out. It meant that I could enjoy the smoke without actually lighting up myself. Also, and this is really going to show how shallow I am, I liked the fact that I quit while so many of my friends and colleagues kept smoking – I was different. When we’re outside chatting I was the one not smoking – I liked that. Now they’re talking about how they have to quit and it’s all become so passé. How to be different again? hmm. Could I cadge a fag off someone?