thinking ahead

my fifth years have precisely THIS much respect for me

and I don't actually know what it means

the day juliet turner broke apple’s dominance

If you don’t know about my love of all things A-mac by now you mustn’t have bothered reading much of this blog. I am such an apple-phile that I have a big chunk bitten out of the side of my head. Yep I am, and have always been, a sucker for anything apple. From my days writing articles for the school newspaper on a Mac Classic, through typing up my final year dissertation on a Powermac G3, to moving my entire music collection onto itunes and ipod – I have always loved anything mac. And part of this is a desire to own an iphone. Or was.

You see my faith has been broken. And not because of anything to do with the company or the products themselves. It’s the people that own them. I have come to realise that people who own iphones are the rudest, least considerate people on the planet. Their obnoxiousness and general disregard for life outside a two foot radius of them has made me consider the unconsiderable – getting a Blackberry instead.

[disclaimer: Several of my friends are proud iphone users – and maybe even several of my readers as well. Obviously I am excluding them and you from this rant – clearly you are the exception to the rule.]

You see I went to a concert in Ballymena the other day. My sister got me a ticket to see Juliet Turner in the Braid Centre. It was an excellent concert – the support acts were good, the atmosphere was friendly and intimate. The music was wonderful – the fact that she was suffering from laryngitis only gave her voice a fragile quality that made it a distinct from other renditions – it didn’t harm the performance in any way. I liked her music before I went but I am definitely an even bigger fan for seeing her live. And boy she is tall! When I was leaving I saw her signing CDs in the foyer. I was able to look her in the eye without bending my neck very far – and I’m 6’5”. I thought she must have been standing on a raised platform or something – but no. I checked.

Anyway, it was a wonderful, incredible, amazing, magnificent experience – bar one thing. The existence of iphone owners.

One woman in particular, sitting just in front of me, seemed to need some information urgently and would tap away on her phone, scrolling through hundreds of emails and hold the phone in the air to read it in such a way that the glare from the screen was at its optimum distraction level in the corner of my eye. It must have been important because she did this every thirty seconds throughout the concert.

Then there were the ones further forward who wanted to take a few pictures, or maybe a bit of video to remember the concert by. They would hold up their phones, compose the shot for a while, wait for the perfect moment and take the photo. But in a darkened room I find my eye drawn to shiny objects and – maybe it was just me – I found myself watching Juliet Turner in concert live on a 3 inch screen twenty yards away rather than the real person on the stage. In some cases when the phone operator had decided to video her I found myself watching the screen for the entire song.

Now maybe it is just me. Maybe I am hypersensitive about these things and need to learn to relax more. Maybe I just like complaining – but it really seems that iphone users can’t ever just put their phones away for a while. They have to be fiddling with them all the time. There were several hundred other people in that auditorium, most of whom are likely to have mobile phones. Yet it was only the iphone users I noticed. Why? BECAUSE THEY WERE WAVING THEM AROUND FOR TWO HOURS!!! It’s hard not to notice them.

Anyway, if my sister is reading this – thank you for the tickets. I really enjoyed the concert. If the people we were with are reading this – it was good to see you all again. It was a good night. Let’s do it again some time. If Juliet Turner is reading this – I was so impressed with everything you did. You are incredible and I will remember that concert for a long time. If iphone users are reading this – learn what a pocket is for. If you need to use your phone then use it… and then put it away… for more than thirty seconds.

your efforts have been noted - trust us

The Principal of the school where I work is retiring today. I wasn’t invited to his farewell speech to the pupils – apparently the staff are having a photo taken after it and with all the teachers occupied in one place they fear a pupil uprising – so those of us with less allegiance to the school (subs in other words) have been given the task of supervising. In my case I have been assigned the foyer – which is good – there are comfortable sofas where I can rest my ankle and tap away on a laptop.

But back to the point. Last night I went to the retirement party in a local hotel. I hate those things. Especially since I haven’t actually been at the school long enough to join in the emotional spirit of the speeches. My ankle made driving difficult so I was late to begin with; and then I really didn’t feel in the mood when I did arrive so – don’t tell anybody – instead of turning right to go to the function hall I turned left to go to the driving range. That was much more fun, I’m going to do that more. I’m not any good at golf but there really is no better way to take out frustrations than to whack a little ball with a big stick.

But back to the point. I had to go to the party eventually – I had been involved in making a comedy sketch movie for the boss. Lots of teachers had been involved and had taken part in various humiliating (blackmail material) and extremely funny sketches. So, when I was confident the meal and speeches would be over, I made my way to the hall. I opened the door just enough to be able to see the film and the reaction to it.

They loved it.

I was hailed a creative master and slapped heartily on the back (when I stopped hiding behind the door). Time and time again people would come over, smile broadly, congratulate me and, in conspiratorial tones, whisper ‘your efforts haven’t gone unnoticed’ before winking.

What does that even mean!?

I’ve heard that in every school I’ve worked in. I always throw myself into school life completely. I’ve coached cricket, run various clubs and societies, helped out with school productions, created countless promotional videos for school youth clubs, sporting teams, etc etc etc. I make a point of doing whatever I can to help whoever I can whenever I can – and always, always, I hear that phrase repeated: ‘your efforts are not in vain.’

At the end of the day they are – in one regard anyway. They have never lead to me getting more regular work with the school. They have not increased my employability one iota. Schools may be grateful but when its comes to the bottom line they have to do their primary job and balance the books while they’re at it. All my whistles and bells won’t change that. Maybe I need to make myself invaluable as a teacher instead. In the meantime I'll play with any little string of encouragement they care to dangle.

sinister goings on

If you are wondering why the hit counter here just jumped three times its usual daily amount (and if you are then – um, why? There has to be more to life than watching the visitor counter on a small-town blog) I will explain.

‘Brazen Teacher’ has featured this site in her blog. I am her official cool teacher for the month of January. I’m not sure the year 9 class I’ve just had would agree with her – but I’m sure she has her reasons.

Anyway, I suggest you check out thisbrazenteacher.blogspot.com, not to check if I made the whole thing up but because she does an awesome job of opening the genuine world of teaching to common humanity.

brazen charm

Taken from This Brazen Teacher.blogspot.com

I met Mr. C on accident. I thought his blog: The Thoughts of Special Needs Teacher meant that he was a Special Ed Teacher. As it turned out, the title was in regards to his own "Special Status", and not that of his students.

The first post I ever read was "Reasons Why I'm Single: Part 2 of 78."

And I became hooked. His dry, witty sense of humor is only surpassed by his propensity to denounce his brilliance with a modest yet endearing insistence. After some feeble resistance on his part- and complete disregard for a "no" answer on my part- Mr C has granted me an interview. I have departed somewhat from the standardized questions- since I felt like an Irish Substitute would have a slightly different take on things.

As always, Brazen Students treat newcomers the way they would like to be treated. That means lots of comments and complimentary visits to the Irishman's blog space. Please relocate your eyes to the front of the class. After party cocktails can be found here.


What’s your horoscope sign?

I’m an aquarian. Some of the greatest people I know are; Humphrey Bogart, Paul Newman, Wayne Gretzky, Charles Dickens, Abraham Lincoln and, er, Jerry Springer.

You describe yourself as a: “a cynical Irish sub, who hasn’t been able to keep down a job in his 6 - 7 years of teaching.” Please elaborate:

Um, did I say that? Sometimes I should learn to sit in the corner and keep my mouth shut. That may take a while to explain. Ok. Well, I’m cynical because I’m Irish (well Northern Irish) and it is ingrained in us. If you read any Northern Irish blogger regularly you will see what I mean. I think it’s a defense mechanism. If we present ourselves and life around us in the worst possible light then people won’t be disappointed in us. It’s certainly the case with me. I prefer others to see the positives of the world of education and specifically in my teaching – meanwhile I’ll pick out the negatives and see if I can make them funny.

The ‘holding down a job bit’ is an example of me being modest of course. True I am working in my fifth school in seven years – but that’s because I have commitment issues – really I do. I also have ‘saying things I shouldn’t before being interviewed and giving the interviewer material’ issues.

How many years have you been teaching?

I had to work that one out for the answer above. As a substitute teacher it’s often hard to keep track – but I started in Sept 2001 – so seven.

What subject(s) do you specialize in?

I’m trained in English Language, Literature and Drama. But so far I have taught (in chronological order): Technology and Design, Maths, Art, English, Special Needs, History, ICT, Drama, Moving Image Arts, and English Literature. I love being a sub.

Since most Brazen readers are American- can you please explain to them how Public Ed is structured in Ireland?

This is now the fourth time I have drafted this answer – the last three attempts each began to take on the proportions of a Tolstoy novel. So this time I have determined to make it as short as is possible:

4-11 we have primary school (like your elementary perhaps?) then we do a test to see what kind of secondary school we get to attend. 11-14 we have three years of stress-free educating before beginning the GCSE course. This is a broad 2 year course of around ten different subjects leading to the first major set of external qualifications. Then at 16/17, if we choose to stay on, we can do another 2 year course called A-levels. This time we specialize in only 3 or 4 subjects. These results are what determine what we do at university. And congratulations – you may now leave the building.

That was the abridged, sanitized version which omitted all traces of the fact that I hate our system and, when the revolution finally comes, I will be at the front holding the flag. It also omitted complications and exceptions that confuse the whole grammar/high/comprehensive/junior high issue. Then there’s the fact that they are trying to fundamentally change the 11-12 bit at the moment. And I’ve just noticed that I have told you all about the Northern Irish system when the question clearly asked about the Irish system – which is completely different and involves…

I’ve lost the will to live – can we move on?

What was the reason you decided to be a teacher?

I don’t really know. Throughout my time in school I was determined to be anything other than a teacher. Then one day I was working night shift in a coffee shop in Ontario and one of my regulars said “have you ever thought of teaching?” I think he may actually have dozed off and was sleep talking; but the seed was planted and within six months I was back home in Ireland training to be a teacher. I often wonder how that sleeping coffee addict is doing. I just hope he can live with himself.

What is one thing you love about teaching?

Pay day. No really. It’s the day I get to look at what this society expects me to survive on while turning their kids into little dead poets society members. It’s when I look at that pay slip that I realize I must be doing it for more than the money.

And that I get to randomly quote Shakespeare at youngsters and claim its part of my ‘job’.

What is one thing you um, don’t?

Being faced with the occasional utterly apathetic parent who feels I am morally responsible for the upbringing of their child. Let’s face it – anyone who actually knows me knows how bad an idea it would be to rely on me as the role model for any impressionable weans.

If you could share one thing about your profession with non-teachers, what would it be?

I think it’d be that we’re actually human beings – and we respond to praise and criticism the same as everyone else. And that sometimes we have off days like everyone else. And that sometimes a bit of recognition goes a long way. The actual pupils are good at that (sometimes) – from time to time I wish the rest of society were too.

If you had to pick one student that left an impression on you, good or bad- who would it be and Why?

I’m not sure I have any epic tales about children succeeding against the odds; nor do I have any horrendous nightmares to relate. Oh I have taught kids I thought were amazing, kids who have made me proud, kids who have made me fear for my safety… but any one who works with children will have a dozen or more of those stories and be able to tell them better than I can. The pupil who came to mind immediately was none of the above. But she was someone who challenged my perceptions.

She was part of the popular set – she was good looking and she knew it. She was the kind of girl who, lets be honest, just had to smile sweetly and would have any number of boys helping her out with any problem she encountered. Which was just as well – she was one of the least organised people I knew. She regularly forgot to do important tasks, her attendance record was appalling and coursework deadlines were, for her, mere suggestions. She wasn’t even one of my pupils but I had formed a terrible opinion of her. Not that it mattered – she was going to breeze through school just as she would breeze through life.

So I was surprised one day, two hours after the school day had ended, to find her still in school and looking genuinely worried – scared even. She had a deadline. Her final film piece had to be submitted within 48hrs – no extensions – and she hadn’t started. Well, she had filmed some footage but it had no development, no purpose, no nothing. We sat down and began some creative editing. I taught her some tricks of the trade and offered advice when she asked for it – but generally I was just there for reassurance and to make ‘ohhh, that’s good’ sounds every so often. For two days we worked in school till late – I got a LOT of marking done and she completed a rather excellent short film on the issue of abortion.

But that’s not what was memorable – the memorable part was the conversation we had as we worked. Man she was deep. I expected talks about hair colour and partying. Actually we discussed everything from creationism to the war in Afghanistan. And she knew what she was talking about too. My eyes were opened and my preconceptions exploded. Now she helps me out sometimes when she’s home from uni and I'm filming a wedding or something. She has a good eye for a nice shot and I always look forward to our conversations – so she’s memorable because she’s the first pupil I would actually consider a friend.

What is one thing that you wouldn’t want parents/ students to know about you?

If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that my pupils ALWAYS find out what I try to hide. For instance – I spend so much time cultivating a respectable image with my suit and tie, quality reading material jauntily tucked under my arm, and my polished black shoes; but it’s always ruined on the first warm day of summer when I have to take off my jacket and they see the tattoo on my shoulder through my shirt. If they ever see the photos of me with bright red hair and ear and brow piercings I may retire.

Do you have a favourite quote or mantra?

I don’t really have one – but being an Eng Lit teacher I do use:

“This above all – to thine own self be true.”

far too much. It had to be Shakespeare, didn’t it?

If I said: “Must be easy to have your summers off…” you would reply: ___________

Yes, it’s wonderful. And the two weeks off at Christmas is good too – you should do it to. Totally! Become a teacher like us. Think of the fun we could have with our long holidays together – we could wear garish Hawaiian shirts and have barbeques - we could visit a petting zoo and adopt a goat called Olaf… …What? You don’t want to be a teacher?... Why ever not if we have it so easy?... think of the long holidays... think of wonderful pension plan… think of Olaf!!!

I’m sad you dropped the ‘describe your principal in ten words or less.’ I was looking forward to being able to say ‘retiring tomorrow and they refuse to give me the job’

(Sorry Mr. C.)

smooth walkin'

I spent yesterday practising walking without a limp. I reckon if I move slowly enough I can make it look natural. Well, natural in a slow way. But I can’t face the prospect of my pupils knowing that I fell off a wall, and I’m not imaginative enough to come up with a lie. Actually, that’s not true – I can think of plenty; but I know that, no matter how well prepared I was, when someone asked what was wrong with my leg I would think, “I was out riding a bike when suddenly a horse and cart went past, clearly out of control. There was a mother and baby on the cart and they were terrified. Well I had to do something, didn’t I? So I raced as hard as I could, caught up with them and jumped from my bike to the cart. With quick nod of reassurance to the frightened woman I grabbed the reins and tried to get the horse under control – but it was no good. I pulled on the brakes of the cart – but they were broken. The only way to stop them was to climb down the back of the cart and use myself as the brake. So I forced my foot down onto the road and pushed it until the cart came to a halt. The mother and child were saved – at the expense of my foot.”
I would think that – but when I would open my mouth it would come out as, “…um, I fell off a wall.”

The only way to avoid the inevitable ridicule was to hide the fact that I was in pain. And the only way to do that was to casually saunter in to school, perhaps humming, make my way to the classroom and spend the rest of the day in my chair.

It started so well. I got out of my car slowly and made my way, slowly, to the main entrance (saying a slow hello to the classroom assistants.) I walked along a corridor slowly, before being joined by Bob – a pupil from one of my previous schools who comes here a few times a week for some of his subjects. We talked of the holidays as we walked. He didn’t seem to notice the snails pace, and didn’t look down once. I asked him what subjects he was joining us for today, he asked me how long I thought I’d be in this school, I asked him what he was studying today, he wished me a pleasant day as we arrived at my door. He walked off. I’d made it. I took one more look round as he walked off – paused – turned – and said “oh, and what did you do to your foot sir?”

happy new year

A happy, a healthy and a memorable 2009 and all of you and yours.

-- Moments after this photo was taken I took the short cut to the house (over the stone wall.) Forgetting that I was still half asleep and wearing footwear that was wholly inappropriate for the conditions, I stepped up onto the wall, slipped back off it again and landed on my ankle.

I am now going to spend New Year's Day on a sofa with my foot in the air.

If the opening of a year is in any way indicative of the remainder I'm going to bed - wake me up in 2010.