About Thai fighting

In three weeks time, I’m off to South Asia for a month. This is to teach in a school in Chiang Rai, Thailand (which, I think, will involve lots of fun and singing as well as ‘curriculum’ work). I’ll be keeping you updated via this blog when I can.

So, firstly, this is to update you on the political situation in Thailand. There has been some reporting of this on the mainstream news (BBC in particular), however, there has been serious political conflict around the governance of the country. For a quick introduction, there’s a great Q&A on the BBC News website which will explain the difference between the “red and yellow shirts” that you may have already heard about but feel a bit hazy about the situation.

So the 2006 coup led to the eventual exile of Thaksin Shinawatra. Amnesty International had already expressed dismay about Shinawatra’s leadership, with special regard to illegal killings on his war on drugs. The New Internationalist called the take-over “one of the world’s most laid-back military coups”. However, it was recently reported in Private Eye that the gap between the middle classes (tending to be yellow shirted) and the rural poor (red) had increased leading to the recent uprising.

According to the BBC, at the end of June, Shinawatra spoke to a sea of red-shirted supporters; the ructions look set to continue. As the situation looks to be simmering with the potential to boil over at any time, the Foreign and Commonwealth Office are advising people not to get involved in any political gatherings (which will be a toughie for me – but I do like living, so I promise that I will not get involved and write about it instead).

Leaves – a villanelle

This poem was inspired by someone who changed my life – you know who you are (and I think you’re amazing with what you’re now doing with your life). I started to write it about two years ago, when I still wasn’t quite over it, with the line: “and when I remember you, I think of trees”.

Pinning the poem down, and writing it using the poetic form of villanelle, was a right bugger; they look so easy and have a lovely song-like quality with the use of refrain – don’t let that fool you! Being a bit of a free verse free thinker, I’m not used being constrained by structure. However, I found that by having structure this forced me to really think about the poem: its meaning, the language, ensuring the rhyme wasn’t forced etc (I don’t think it’s too forced – do let me know what you think).

I think I was inspired to use the form from one of my favourite poems: Sylvia Plath’s Mad Girl’s Love Song.

Finally, on a personal note, this is the laying to rest of the formerly monikered: The Man Who Broke My Heart; I’ve forgiven him.

Leaves

Back then I loved to watch the bees
buzzing in lavender; I felt I was there again,
and when I remember you, I think of trees.

The sky was bluer than all the seas
I gazed upward avoiding the yellow flame.
Back then I loved to watch the bees.

I climbed a sycamore, felt the soft breeze
carry the smell of growth: the green spring rain
and when I remember you, I think of trees.

I tried to hide behind the star-shaped leaves
willed them to fall in short-lived fame.
Back then I loved to watch the bees.

On that wooden floor, I wished time would freeze:
like us, branches entwined, became the same
and when I remember you, I think of trees.

I kissed you and you tasted of memories.
Bitter-tainted. Never to happen again.
Back then I loved to watch the bees
and when I remember you, I think of trees.

22nd February – 3rd March 2009

London Free School this weekend!!

If you’re in the South this weekend get yourself to the London Free School. DIY workshops, skill sharing, films and food. Looks like it’ll be ace!

Hate fascism? Detest the BNP? Live in the North West? Good, then VOTE!

And preferably vote Green, here’s why:

Merrick explains why, in a far more erudite way. If you live in NW England just vote, OK?!

Yes, I’ve handed in my anarchist badge for this week

Grating expectations

A bit of bellybutton observation, and introspection, whilst I’m writing up my final essays and E-learning presentation for the PGCE course I’m doing.

This is a displacement activity; I feel a need to pointlessly purge my soul at you – you lucky readers, you!

As some of you out there in Cyberland know, I split up with my partner of three and a half years back in mid-March. I’ve been feeling a little teary on and off (my fault – shouldn’t listen to anything by Regina Spektor). But I know that it’s OK – and it’s perfectly normal – to feel a little sad from time to time, even though it was the best thing to do.

That aside, certain relatives keep pointing out my lack of relationship (yes, I know after such a short time too!) stating the following facts:

1. I’m thirty (well done, your maths is astute)
2. I’m not married (again, well done, your powers of observation are unsurpassed)
3. I don’t have any children (well, there’s none that I know of!)

It particularly grates as it’s really, really not that unusual to be any of the above three things!

I think it’s the expectations that some of my older relatives who are trapped in a certain social and cultural contexts. This comes complete with commentary and questions such as:

• “You’ve had how many boyfriends, Jennifer.” (none of your business!)
• “Don’t you want to own your own place?” (um, not on my teacher’s bursary, and I don’t particularly want a mortgage hanging around my neck like the proverbial Coleridge albatross)
• “Do you not want to have children?” (yes, but not quite yet)
• “Why don’t you have a career?” (my life is my career, thank you very much)

All of this is incredibly annoying!

Hints and tips on how to deal with these – rather than my usual trick of: nodding, smiling, and gentle explanations rather than sarcasm – are most welcome!

Back to work now!

New poem – Fall Out.

Wrote this today for this evening’s Creative Remembrances event. This event was a fundraiser for Amnesty International and the Disasters Emergency Committee. This was held in the characteristically shabby, yet atmospheric Platt Chapel Arts and Community Project nestled at the top of Platt Fields Park.

Fall Out

And then there was silence;
A solemn stillness.
Dressing the ground, the desiccated debris
Of café, house, school, shop
Shimmered like silica and fell to earth
Almost as if in slow motion.

And then there was silence;
Before then, a sonorous sky
Sounded out the tak-tak-tak of gunfire;
The fist fall of rockets glazed the night;
Frightening: but deathly beautiful was the light:
A fallout of illumination.

And then there was silence;
Slivers of silver
Stud the wall, the stars reflected;
Light refracted – mirrored by the eyes of families
Wandering the streets like walking wounded
Quietly tending to the dead and damaged.

And then there was silence;
Silken and strange;
An unexpected eulogy both innocent, and silent:
Soft tears submerged the eyes of those that were left.
Then the screaming began
And that broke the silence.

6th May 2009

Choir conundrum!

It’s Choirfest in July, and this year it’s in Whitby. Last year, the street singing festival was in Brighton, and it was amazing. I wasn’t in a choir either, but I blagged it by singing with the Sea Green Singers and, through cunning costume changing, Côr Cochion Caerdydd.

I really want to go again!

I may have to clone myself.

EDIT, 6th May – Due to a change in personal circumstances, I don’t think it’d be a good idea for me to go this year However, if you can make it, it’s a great weekender

Highlights from last year:

• Praise You outside the library.
• Guantanamera again, outside the library.
• All Will Be Well – on Brighton sea front!

Thought crime.

Some of my friends, including my amazing ex-boyfriend, were part of yesterday’s 114 strong group who were arrested for the “planned action” on Ratcliffe-On-Soar power station. They were nicked for conspiracy to cause criminal damage and aggravated trespass. Basically, they were arrested for a hypothetical action; they weren’t nicked for any *actual* action!

So, basically, it’s now illegal to actually think about taking action against the root causes of climate change. And this particular power station is cited as being the third largest emitter of CO2 in the UK.

It has also been argued that coal is not clean; it’s responsible for the largest source of greenhouse gas emissions in the UK. And we don’t have the technology for carbon capture and storage (if we ever will). We just don’t have time, and can’t depend on these so-called technofixes to “save us”.

Climate scientists have reached consensus on climate change and the dangers it poses. Especially to those in the majority world. We need to act. And we need to act quickly. And if we get arrested from trying to stop things going horrendously wrong, for trying to protect this small, spinning, blue and green rock that we call home, then so be it.

As for my incredibly brave, and passionate, mates, they’ve been bailed to return in the next couple of months. It will be interesting to see whether the police can make any convictions stick.

Until then – take action! Some useful links:

• Activists’ Legal Project
• Coal Action Network
• Camp for Climate Action
• E.On F.Off
• Network for Climate Action
• People & Planet
• World Development Movement: No New Coal

The sound of sweet melancholy…

…is warm April days spent wandering the parks alone accompanied by the sound of Headswim.  This band, from the late nineties, defined my university years; they were bloody brilliant: kinda rocky and Radiohead-esque.

Brothers, Dan and Tom are still performing as BlackCar, presenting Dan’s raw, yet gorgeous, floaty voice amid quiet musical introspection, gentle keyboards, shoe-gazey indie guitars and glinting moments of rock.

OK, OK and Dan, the lead singer, is quite pretty too. However, when I saw Headswim gig in 1999/2000, he seemed very shy in performance (I’ve seen them twice, once supporting the magical Drugstore at the Hop & Grape).

Think I’m beginning to fall in love again. Yay! Spring!

6 month teacher training? Yes, because obviously being a teacher is a piece of piss!

The government cannot make up its mind up. First, it’s about ‘professionalising’ teachers: forcing standards such as meeting Qualified Teacher Status (QTS) (oh, and making it to the end of your Newly Qualified Teacher (NQT) year alive), and THEN it’s about joining the more draconian professional body the General Teaching Council of England. Or, in the case of Further Education (where QTS and the NQT year not a prerequisite), and pursuits dubbed “Lifelong Learning”, the Institute for Learning (IfL). Now it’s about shortening teacher training.

Bureaucracy aside, what the hell is the UK government playing at?! Seriously, do they think that teaching is like being in an episode of Waterloo Road?

As both teacher and as a student during my PGCE year, I’ve been on both sides of teaching and learning. I have experienced top-quality education – albeit rushed in some respects (seriously, a 5,000 word assignment at Masters Level on top of the lesson and damage limitation planning?!). I’ve observed wonderful lecturers (who’ve got enough on their plates without having to cram one year’s worth of quality information and training into a measly six months). These tutors are not only catering to my small PGCE crew; they’re also organising and delivering training to the Primary, Secondary and In-service trainee teachers. Seriously, that’s gotta be over a 40-hour working week! Can you then imagine the pressure of additional work in developing – and delivering – training for a six-month programme? This is to people who’re tempted by the profession for other reasons than “changing young people’s lives” such as: long holidays, incremental pay (although not necessarily in FE), safe-ish job security, and a ‘change from being a banker’.

These new recruits could then drop out after a couple of years. A recent straw poll on the Association of Teachers and Lecturers website, New2Teaching suggests that the bulk of teacher trainees intend to “Be a teacher for at least a couple of years at least and then we’ll see.”.

I realise that the training is a means to an end for some. For example, I know that I want to work in community education. Preferably working in a non-hierarchal way with people who want to learn, or skill-share, or participate in a popular education workshop. And I’m an education and political philosophy geek to boot (teachers as action researchers = love).

Six months training is a stupid idea; I think it’s best summed up by some comments from the teaching unions:

• “Once again the [Department for Children, Schools and Families (DCSF)] has been inconsistent with their policy-making, it seems to be a ‘hit and miss’ approach, where on the one hand they believe teaching should be an all-Masters profession, and on the other you have a scheme such as this where you can become a teacher within six months.” (Dr Mary Bousted, ATL)
• “In reality there are no shortcuts to being an effective teacher. The same ground, to the same depth, will need to be covered in six months as in the longer courses. It will be highly intensive and such hot-housing will not appeal to everyone.” (Chris Keates, NASUWT)
• “Teaching is not a profession that can be picked up at the drop of a hat. There needs to be the time for reflection and the capacity to undertake in-depth theoretical study. To bring in an entry route that does not provide a good grounding in theory will not only undermine the status of the profession but will also jeopardise the education of our children and young people.” (Christine Blower, NUT)
• “This is not about quality. It’s about grabbing headlines about job creation in a recession.” (Philip Parkin, Voice)

That said, I’d love to watch an ex-city slicker attempting to teach maths in a crammed room of 35 disillusioned fourteen year olds. Actually, they’re more than welcome to take my Key Skills Communications learners!