Tag: teacher joseph

Neil McTaggart’s Crossing (3): A Story of 1920s Scottish Emigration to Canada (Podcast 1101)

Part 3: The Road to Halton Hills

The wagon creaked as it left the little platform behind. Neil sat beside his uncle, suitcase at his feet, fingers wrapped around the smooth stone in his pocket. The road stretched ahead in a long, frozen ribbon. Pine trees lined the edges, bare branches brushing the sky.

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Weekly Lesson: Remembrance Sunday

For study until 17th of November 2024

Subject: Remembrance Sunday

Audio: On usual social media platforms

Remembrance Sunday

In the month of November, on the Sunday closest to the 11th, Remembrance Sunday takes place. The day is supposed to commemorate the War Dead across the Commonwealth and British territories but for younger generations it is often perceived as incredibly dull.  Since it is a historic ceremony involving the dead, it has been enshrined in our communities as being very important, reminding us that democracy is not an automatic right, it is something which was fought for at a great price with a loss of life.  Our Leaders gather at War Memorials up and down the country and lay flowers, remembering all those who have died. In these days where we celebrate diversity and peace, ceremonies like this can seem a bit icky.  In fact for most of us the ickiness of the day sits in direct contrast with modern living.

The ceremony represents the face of Britain as it was in 1919 when the first took place on Armistice Day in 1919. Over time it has been expanded to include the Second World War and other conflicts in the World.  Little has changed in the ceremony since 1919, the three faces of the Government  all come together. The Monarchy, the Church and the Military all parade through the streets, looking like a reminder of days gone by.  Despite the Government telling us that Britain is now multicultural and politically correct, the ceremony itself is embarrassingly “white”.

When I was a little boy, in the 1980s, there were still people around who remembered the First World War known as World War One and Remembrance Sunday seemed much more important than it is today. World War One still encroaches on our lives today as well; If you work for a company here, you may be asked on certain days to observe a two minute silence to remember the War Dead on anniversaries of World War One.  If I had a penny for every time I have been asked to respect a two minute silence to remember the war, I would be a very rich man by now.

I stopped commemorating  Remembrance Sunday some years ago, I really dislike the two minute silence part at 11am where we are told we have to “shut up” for two minutes to remember those who died in the Wars. That may have worked some years ago but these days trying to get anyone to focus on something for 2 minutes is not likely to happen.

I find the whole thing rather fake,  I mean billions are spent on having ceremonies remembering the Glorious Dead from the old British Empire, why not just look at stopping war. Would that not be a better idea or forget about the ceremony and give the money to a charity instead? 

Then there’s the Royal commentary about the King and Queen who are of course leading the ceremony in London dressed in black wearing poppies on their jackets. A poppy is a little flower that you can see everyone wearing the week before the ceremony it is a little paper flower which is bright red and sometimes has a bit of green at the back. It is used as a symbol of remembering our War Dead.

Apparently this year our Queen has a chest infection so she cannot attend.  It is a very sombre affair,  my Grandmother used to say our Royals all look like horses with their rather protruding teeth and many people here refer to them as “horsey” – meaning they have horse features. I can imagine them nibbling on the flowers rather than laying them at the cenotaph.

 It’s hard to escape, every news channel in the UK has live coverage from London showing our Royals arriving looking more like they are going to the Oscars rather than the Cenotaph.

“And today the Queen is wearing the pearls gifted to her from the Sultan of Oman… and the king’s coat was last seen worn at his Mother’s funeral…”. It is the epitome of boredom, kitsch and a ceremony which feels wrong in so many ways. It really is just icky.

Last year I forgot about the ceremony and tried to listen to radio on my phone at 11.01am. Getting no sound I immediately uninstalled the app, still heard nothing and blamed my Bluetooth buds. Just before giving up and threatening to reset the whole phone, I heard a trumpet and realised it marked the end of the two minute silence, my equipment was fine and started playing. I rolled my eyes, picked up my cat and went to the other room to watch Angela Lansbury as Jessica Fletcher in Murder She Wrote, solve another murder. It seemed the only way I could escape the boredom of the day.

Earlier this year it got quite exciting, in my local newspaper there was an enquiry from volunteers who look after  a War Cemetery in the Netherlands seeking contact with relatives of people buried there. The name was one of my Mother’s cousins and I was able to pass photos and give a short biography of the man. The Dutch guy who wanted the info was really excited and clearly thought we were going to be best friends forever and share a love for researching  the lives of young men who died tragically.  From my point of view it was interesting to know where Tommy was buried but I never knew him, he died during the war.  I only  knew that it wasn’t exactly a hero’s death, he was stealing chickens from the enemy camp during World War Two and sadly a bomb dropped while he was there.  Maybe I will drop into to the cemetery the next time I am in the Netherlands but there’s more chance of me being in the supermarket buying chicken  rather than remembering Tommy this year. As much as I love family history, I never expected to be the last man standing with photos and biographies. I  am only in my fifties after all, still very young.

Anyway, after this ceremony, my attention will be turning to Christmas cards another eccentrically British tradition and I’ll be looking at my Christmas card list to see who I got a card from last year and who is worthy of a card this year. If I don’t get a card two years in a row  from someone, then the person is removed from my list.

 This may be a far cry from Remembrance Sunday but equally important in my opinion.

Weekly Lesson: The House Guest

For study until 6th of October 2024

Subject: The House Guest

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

When I heard that a friend was coming to visit for a few days, my heart sank. As a typical British man, I know that friends staying over, usually causes a lot of stress. I had no particular beef with the person himself, but I knew that a guest staying would throw a spanner into the works of my daily routine. These days, British people are not so hospitable. All of us want our “personal space” so staying at hotels usually allows us more time to do what we want instead of being tied down to particular moments such as eating with the host family etc.

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Weekly Lesson, Cancel Culture: Pigeon Racing

Subject: Cancel Culture: Pigeon Racing

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

Cancel Culture: Pigeon Racing

In the 1970s before the Internet came, pigeon racing was all the rage. It was fairly common to see both young and old men owning pigeon lofts. These were like large garden sheds specifically custom-built to house racing pigeons. The culture of pigeon racing always piqued my curiosity because both my Father and Grandfather had their own lofts at the bottom of their gardens and were fee paying members of their local pigeon racing club. Even the Queen was in on the act, she had her own pigeon loft and was racing her own pigeons until her death. Sadly the new King withdrew his patronage from pigeon associations and charities shortly after he was crowned.  People who breed and race pigeons are sometimes known as pigeon fanciers.

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Weekly Lesson: The Shopping Mall

For study until 11 August 2024

Subject: The Shopping Mall

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

The Shopping Mall

Until the early 80s my town had a Butcher, Fishmonger, Newsagent, a really weird shop that sold only towels and a Fruit shop. By 1984 the country was gripped with a political fervour. A new breath was sweeping over the country in the early eighties with the promise of Capitalism.

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Weekly Lesson: Competitive Sport

For study until 4 August 2024

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

We all can recount stories of our school days and in my life too there were always those awkward moments when it came to competitive sport.

Firstly, at school there were teachers who had a penchant for watching kids running round the entire school complex (approximately 5 miles) twice. The teachers were sheltered under umbrellas, wrapped up in coats, scarves and gloves while we were wearing the obligatory skimpy school uniform for sport, running in the snow. Secondly there was the procedure for selecting players and putting them into teams. The most athletic boy was of course the captain and he got to select his team. It was common practice for those of us who were more academic and less able physically, to be left on the sidelines along with the fat twins whom, of course everyone hated. There were clear winners and losers in this system and I was near the bottom of the list with my new best friends. We enjoyed watching sport, after all we were rarely selected to actually play.

That moment of calling out names for each team was the hardest because I knew I was never going to hear “Joseph, today you will be the goalkeeper”.  I felt like a prisoner in a jail when they have that mail call. As much as you kind of hoped there would be a letter there for you, you somehow knew that it wasn’t going to happen.

I don’t remember my Father ever taking me to sports matches but I do remember being taken by my Grandfather.  I could never fathom why one man wearing red boxing gloves wanted to punch the living daylights out of the other guy and more importantly why Americans referred to that time spent with children at sports matches as “quality time”. If there was anything qualitative about watching a boxing match, I never found it. It was a place full of old men who were wheezing and coughing clutching cigarettes, who seemed pleased to see bloody noses.

On Saturdays I started going to the library instead and soon discovered a clandestine group of kids who were hiding there and studying. They too were bored of “quality time” with family. We didn’t want to be called nerds but we had earned that reputation. Spending time  guessing  the names of  Capital Cities of the world seemed so much more peaceful, these kids knew the meaning of quality. It was fun learning where Moldova was and you would be surprised how relevant that is in my life these days. I also learnt how to solve the Rubik’s cube in minutes. I admit that it wasn’t exactly a crowning moment in the world of sport but it did earn me a reputation, albeit not a positive one.

Sport in 1970s UK was not about competition. It was about learning to hate each other.

George Orwell once said:

 “Serious sport has nothing to do with fair play. It is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard of all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence. In other words, it is war minus the shooting.”

I never understood why they wanted to divide us and force us to compete against each other. It supposedly made us stronger but for me and many others it was a very painful time realising that we didn’t fit the mould. Groups of us found solace in books and in our own imagination, we were different. All of us children came from the same gritty economic background, our parents were all miners, iron labourers or factory workers. Some of us knew we were destined for something greater but we didn’t know what. Our parents couldn’t relate to us, they didn’t know how to win us over, kids who weren’t destined for the mines or steel works “how would they survive”?

 Not only were we different from our parents we were different from our older kin as well. My brother knew how to bounce a ball like Pele, enter an old mineshaft without getting caught and  I knew how to play the piano like Richard Clayderman or James Last. Somebody somewhere should have realised there was a problem. For kids like me this was something much deeper than choice of playground, it was something else rising, a new horizon with global promise. It felt magical but made us vulnerable, we were fish out of water, a tribe of misfits sitting alongside a pack of lions who were conditioned in a very different way, waiting to prey on anything weaker.  We avoided confrontation about hating sport, we were outnumbered. It was survival of the fittest. Yet sport was supposed to unite us, it was competitive and had shared vision, winning defeating and building character.

 I watched the Olympic Torch being carried into the Auditorium in Paris yesterday. My heart leapt at the symbology of true sportsmanship, the unity of watching the torch and all that it represents. Something which illuminates and burns away the twisted version from school and raises the standard. A standard which encompasses all people,  disabled, male, female, strong and weak and all the other dualities we have to work our way through.

I’m wondering how the newer generations work through problems like this or maybe the definition of sport itself is evolving to meet their needs. Either way, it took many years for me to find peace about it. In Arabia I found a new hobby in watching Camel racing and returning to the UK have found myself at ice hockey matches, during “quality time” with family.  A far cry from tribal football matches and sectarianism which still sends shudders up my spine.

 I think I understand these things more now than ever before and have definitely found peace about sport.

  1. What is motivating you today to study?
  2. What motivates you daily to get up and go to work – is it Habit? Money? Targets? Meeting people, burning energy, using positivity, joy level.
  3. What is your joy level today – and what raises your joy level?
  4. “My Heart Leapt” – When we think about motivation – what does it mean for you?

Life Without ID Cards

For study until 28 July 2024

Subject: Life Without ID Cards

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

This particular bank looked the same as any other, bandage coloured wallpaper, glass rooms and an assistant who looked so young that I’m sure I have food in my freezer older than her:

“Computer says no” she said, during my latest attempt to offer ID to open a bank account.  Despite my protests and assurances that I was actually British, she wanted more, one piece of photo ID and a Utility Bill from where I live, clearly showing my name and address. The first one was no problem, I have a Passport but they clearly had me over a barrel with the second bit.

I explained twice “I’ve just moved back here from Spain – I don’t have a permanent address yet” but my appeal fell on deaf ears: “When you have ID showing an address – come back to me and we will process your application – like an Electricity Bill from the last three months for example.”  was her latest way of getting rid of me. 

She was an impressive opponent, dressed in a navy coloured business suit, she meant business. Looking her over I noticed that she had more curves than a Formula One car race track and no doubt she was twice as dangerous. Her bling jewellery was a testament that poverty is not only about cash, but a state of mind. I needed a bank account and clearly she wasn’t going to budge. I was beginning to agree with my Spanish friends, how do we cope without ID cards in the UK?

I finally found an old bank account that I had forgotten about from years before – I hadn’t used it since I left the UK. I trotted along to their branch and simply told them I needed a new bank card and where to send it. Fortunately, I remembered all of my old security passwords.

Dealing with organisations without ID cards is always rough, but trying to deal with Financial Institutions is worse still and involves an endless cycle of conversations, I think that’s the same the world over.  The problem in the UK though is not only the lack of ID cards, it’s also about our legalistic approach to the world and our lack of social structure.

If I had been living with relatives, there would have been no problem I could have asked my parents to give me a letter saying I was living there. Friendships here are never large enough to encompass those kinds of favours and that left only my Brother to turn to for help. He lives around here somewhere but I haven’t spoken to him in ten years. I wasn’t about to turn up like a long lost brother just for a favour – I’d rather shoot myself with a gun.

My Grandmother used to tell me stories about how they were given ID cards during the war to buy food and as soon as it was over, they quickly burned them. Our view of democracy means that the Government cannot hold one central list of who we all are and what we look like, but no doubt there are a number of other lists they could use if they really wanted to find me. It’s not just about  ID cards, its more about how we live, how we are, the way we all seem to live in bubbles now without social interaction.

I pay a vet to come and feed my cat twice a day when I go on holiday. (I wouldn’t trust my neighbour with a stuffed toy let alone my cat and she’s not the kind of person I would associate with). Strangely, the vet (who is female) looks like me wearing a wig, I’m sure if we talk long enough she also is going to be a relative three times removed. Business is business though and she also has a huge list of ID requirements before she takes my house key.

 With ever changing politics I have no doubt that they will be forced to give us some kind of ID card in the future, but for now I need to make sure I’m ready and armed with a Passport and utility bill with my name and address, just in case I ever need it. Well old age is coming and my free concessionary travel card will do more than give me free bus rides, it will act as a beautiful piece of evidence that I live here. At least old age is good for some things.

Affirmations

Monday – People help me to grow and encourage me with English.

Who supports you most in your learning journey and what type of encouragement do they give you?

Tuesday – Learning helps me connect with others.

Who have you met on your learning journey and how have they influenced you?

Wednesday – I reach out when I need to on my learning journey.

Describe a time when you had to accept the help of another person in your journey?

Thursday – Asking for help is not a weakness.

Describe a time when you felt insecure about an English problem you had. What did you do? Did asking for help come naturally?

Friday – Learning English is truly satisfying.

Do you believe this? If not, take a moment to think about why.

Weekly Lesson: My Mate Karim

For study until 21 July 2024

Subject: My Mate Karim

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

Sometimes I forget how diverse British culture is because I just go with the flow. I don’t really have any hard and fast views of what a British man is supposed to look or act like.

So when my mate Karim appeared one night back in 2006 telling me his mother finally found someone for him to marry, it didn’t come as any great shock. We came from different backgrounds but we simply didn’t care. We were very good friends.

He started by telling me how he was a little bit nervous about his forthcoming marriage. He had agreed that his parents would find a bride and that the wedding  would take place in the town where his grandparents had immigrated to the UK from, back in the 1960s.  

“We are like chalk and cheese” he said referring to himself and his future wife. Then  he told me his great idea:

 “Why don’t we fly to Pakistan together and you can get married too?” he suggested.

I could see he had a look of desperation in his eyes. He didn’t want to face this alone.

“Thanks” I replied…

 “but  that’s not really workable for me”.   and nervously laughed at what I hoped was a joke.

I had seen that look before, I always thought of it as the kind of look a deer gets before it gets struck by a car in the middle of the night.

 “It really is game over” he continued.

 Karim was just as British as I am and culturally he pushed himself to enjoy everything he could, a sportsman, popular with the ladies and one of these guys who always had a friend, cousin or uncle who was ready to offer any kind of “deal” that you might be after.

I’ve had enough British Born Pakistani friends in my life to know that there was no way out of this for him and he had been preparing for this moment for some months. He considered himself lucky that he knew the girl, it was one of his cousins. Although I could never really figure out how they were related, they were cousins but 5 times removed and he barely knew her.

I considered Karim to be very fortunate because he walked between two worlds, which left his mind open in a way few people reach. By day he was very much living up to his parent’s high expectations of Islamic South East Asian living and by night he was the disco king, with a childlike determination to achieve everything Western living could offer until 1am most weekends. He was able to merge the two ways of life without going insane and without the usual crutches young white men rely on, drugs and alcohol. Mixing with Karim introduced me to a lot of places and people where alcohol was not at the forefront of people’s minds. 

I had almost the same conversation with my Chinese friend, although he came to Britain in the 1990s to study and eventually stayed. There was a moment when his parents simply advised “it was time to marry” and he went scurrying off to China. He also maintained that look of fear which he tried to hide behind a kind of masculine persona.

Karim had certain qualities that I never found in my own peer group, loyalty, friendship, brotherliness and in many ways he was more of a Brother to me than my own brother was. I often wished I was half the man he was, yet he faced discrimination, judgement, intense expectations from his kin and from the society that we live in. The difference between his life and mine was that he came from a community, a network of people who loved and supported him yet he wanted to be independent. Like most British people I was taught not to expect help from people and to make the best of what I can achieve alone.  I had independence but was seeking community.

I was invited to his British wedding celebration, he arrived on a white horse dressed in Indian Clothes with photographers, surrounded by his family and I was reminded again how different culturally we are. His wedding had 300 people, in contrast, at my wedding there were 4, me, my other half and two witnesses and even one of them I didn’t know personally.  My parents had long since passed away and there was no one else in the family I keep in touch with. In his words “Arranged Marriage isn’t that bad – you just fight for six months then you learn to live with each other”.

Karim moved to the Emirates, I moved to Spain and we kind of found what we wanted – some sense of knowing more about who we are. To be British was to be a Global Citizen in the 1990s, but by today’s standards I’m not sure that’s the message the next generation are receiving. With Borders closing, Brexit, crimes rising and attitudes changing, Karim says he was right to move to raise his family in a place where he knows they will be in a diverse atmosphere. After all, diversity is the one true thing we all have in common.

As extreme political views ebb closer to the front in Politics the gap between those of us who want a diverse mixed culture and those of us who don’t is widening. There’s obviously  people who feel that being British means something else – maybe Karim, my Chinese friend and many others never got that Email.

(Never got that Email in this case simply means “were not aware”)

Affirmations

Monday – My English keeps getting better.

Do you truly believe that statement? If not, why not.

Tuesday – My efforts are paying off.

What are you doing differently from when you first started studying English? How long did it take before you saw results. Why was there a delay?

Wednesday – Others are amazed at how quickly I learn.

Being honest…. how long did it take you to get to this point? Why was that?

Thursday – I love learning English.

Did you hesitate when you read this? Why do you think you don’t love it?

Friday – English is becoming more natural daily

What progress are you measuring?

Weekly Lesson: Government Housing-Friend or Foe?

For study until 14 July 2024

Subject: Government Housing-Friend or Foe?

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

The UK was a very industrial place until Margaret Thatcher came on the scene in the 1980s. For many people up until that time the daily grind involved working shifts in the local factory. In my case, my whole family worked in the local steel factory, that included my Father, Grandfather, Great Grandfather and even my Great Great Grandfather until he was fired for promoting Trade Unions in the early 1900s. Meanwhile the women were working (where there were not enough men) in the local thread mills, which offered  lighter work.

In the early days, going back to the 1840s my family lived in small cottages which were only big enough to hold a handful of people. Like most people of their day they raised between ten to fifteen children. By the time the 1920s came, slums had developed, there was no running water, no indoor sanitation and “rows” of houses were built around the steel work factory with simply two rooms and running water with outside toilets. In the 1930s the Government realised there were issues with sanitation and started to build housing estates known as “housing schemes” or “council estates” which they could rent to employees of local factories. This marked the beginning of organised housing – built around towns which were themselves formed to support local industry.

Moving forward 100 years to 2024, the Northern part of the UK is dominated by these estates and the Government remains one of the largest property owners. In Scotland the Government owns a quarter of all total rentable accommodation. I remember visiting my Grandparents in the 1980s and both my maternal and paternal Grandparents were happily living on Council Estates. The towns where they lived had three Council Estates. They knew all of the neighbours, people who were economically the same and were either friends or relatives. These estates tended to be full of old hardened women who clearly had battled their way into old age whose families had left home years before. In many ways they were the matriarchs of these estates, knowing exactly what “buttons to press” to ensure the Government took action when they need a repair to their homes or have someone forcibly removed. It felt strange because the people were poorer compared to today yet they were incredibly proud.

In the North of the UK today, renting an apartment or house from the Government is considered perfectly normal and accessible for everyone (because there’s little choice) whereas in the South where there was less industry and more education, fewer of these estates exist.

Since the Government owns a lot of property, they are also one of the largest employers in Scotland and Northern England. Plumbers, Electricians, maintenance people, office staff and housing managers are all required. As you would expect from the Government, the salary isn’t great even though the working conditions are better than the private sector, so they generally attract unskilled workers who are happy with a lower pay. This is a very attractive option for boys who do not want to enter further education, many of whom grew up and live on Council Estates themselves.

Things are slowly changing. The local Government here has started to demolish some of these old homes in order to build new ones for residents. The combination of an ageing population as well as houses no longer meeting basic standards of living such as energy saving and noise pollution means that they need to look at how they provide accommodation. Some of these estates historically had very bad reputations and needed to be demolished as well owing to their high crime rates and social problems.

Since the 1990s the Local Government has been proactively demolishing and rebuilding, making these properties safer to live in. Selling the ground to property developers also means many Council estates are surrounded by luxury privately owned property developments, which creates a kind of a hydrid, displacing the cold sting of poverty associated with these estates in the past.

Unlike today where we can define “home” as a mental construct, a structure of Love and Family, a place of peace we can choose to reside in, in the old days home and house was all about physicality, bricks and stone.

As the metaverse or holographic universe comes upon us, we will once again be asked to redefine dwellings as an ethereal space. The jury is out on what exactly the future will look like but it will likely offer us personal and communal spaces to live together.

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Affirmations

Monday – There is a place for me in the Learning Community

Compare how learning alone compares to your experience of being in School with others. What is your learning tribe or community?

Tuesday – I can Learn at any age or point of life

Why do you think age is a barrier for some people?

Wednesday – I am flexible enough to make change

Why do we lose our mental elasticity as we get older? How do we stop that process?

Thursday – I choose to learn today because it brings me joy

What other healthy choices do you make daily to support your learning and your mental health?

Friday – I speak English and it gets better every day

How do you measure your progress? If you do not measure your progress, make a mental note to ask your teacher for ways to do this.

Weekly Lesson: Teachers, Then and Now

For study until 7 July 2024

Subject: Teachers, Then and Now

Audio: On usual social media platforms.

Women in particular used to have very defined roles in society and I recall that my teachers in the 1970s and 80s were for the most part unmarried women. 

There was an expectation that they would devote their lives to education and could not be educators as well as look after a husband. Female teachers were simply not allowed to marry, culturally or legally.

 That rule had been officially lifted in 1944 yet the tradition remained, likely out of fear that a community may judge a woman unfairly. After all, in the 1970s and 80s, most of our elders were born before 1944 and they themselves were educated by unmarried teachers.  Sex, sexuality and physicality were completely repressed during the 19th century so a woman who was abstaining in order to educate children was a serious vocation. It was perhaps a throwback to a time when we would have been educated by Catholic nuns and Priests.  There were practical reasons for this as well, particularly regarding the high number of unemployed men.

 By default we often referred to teachers as “Miss” rather than “Mrs” because it showed more respect.  Female teachers here in the UK were expected to be single until 1944 and if they were found to be married then they were sacked.  Women working, was generally seen as something negative but exceptions were made of course for cooks, cleaners and general domestic roles, but even those kinds of roles were reserved for single women or spinsters who had no chance of marriage or a profession because of their age or class system.

By the time the 1970s came, times were indeed changing and more women were becoming teachers. Our social revolution of the 1960s had left its mark and women felt empowered to do anything they wanted.  The Headmaster in my School was Mr Cameron, of course the opinion was that his job as Head Teacher with all of its administrative tasks needed a man to manage it and I often wonder how he dealt with ten woman on a day to day basis. He was an older man, never having been married himself. When he was due to retire the school held special celebrations for him and wished him well. He was so taken by our Love for him that he changed his mind and decided to stay longer which perhaps gave us a glimpse into what his life was really like. Perhaps just like the rest of us, he had his own self doubts and loneliness but he was not allowed to show those publicly.

The Teachers I recall were very happy.  The older ones who were well passed their sell by date seemed very contented. They were like matriarchal figures, quick to give advice with a very blunt practical masculinity (yes they were all women) which surfaced when required.  Corporal punishment was still in place until 1981 and you really did not want to be on the receiving end of that, especially if you were in any way squeamish. It involved being belted across the hands with a trouser belt or cane until you almost bled. The weirdest part of that punishment was the ritual. The most well behaved boy in the class was sent to collect the belt from another teacher, giving the message to the other class that someone had been playing up. That belt was then carried back with great reverence to the class of the troublemaker so that everyone could see what was about to happen. A few of the teachers even cried when carrying out this brutality as I recall and on the other hand (excuse the pun) some of them enjoyed it.  Questions remain in my mind about why  a bunch of middle aged women had men’s belts hanging on the walls to punish us with?

By the mid 80s married teachers were becoming as common as single ones. In my community today  there are still a number of older teachers who choose note to marry, but they are mainly retired, morally upright woman who look like relics from another time and then of course there are also nuns. Some of them are in prison serving sentences for physical cruelty to children in the 1960s. Others are simply sweet old ladies.

Times have changed and now teachers are required to be formally educated. In the past they simply had to attend “teacher training colleges” whereas now there is an expectation that they will hold at least a Degree. Headlines appear regularly about inappropriate relations between kids and teachers as well as violent threats and lack of safety in the classroom.  Some of the teachers do not look much older than the kids.

As my colleagues and I discuss our experience of school days, one thing we all agree upon is this: We would never send our children to  British schools, we would either “home school” them or live in another country. There is an opinion that frankly speaking, children here are exposed to too many things.

I yearn for the old days but do understand things were not perfect then either,  it simply looked that way through the eyes of a child.

Monday’s Affirmation – I am a valued member of the language learning community

Reflect on your own childhood – what opinions do you hold about school? Describe your friends you learnt with and compare them to exchange partners that you have now.

Tuesday – I am making progress every day

In what ways were you successful in education? What do you regret?

Wednesday – I am a capable learner

Write a short essay on how education has changed in your country.

Thursday – I find joy in learning

What could you do to improve your joy level in learning? What would stepping outside your comfort zone mean?

Friday – Mistakes help me learn

Compare punishments – making mistakes at school and making mistakes as an adult.

Women’s Right to Vote: The Suffragette Movement

Weekly Lesson: For study until 16 June 2024

Audio: On usual Social media platforms.

  1. The suffragette movement in the United Kingdom was a key force in the fight for women’s right to vote. This struggle led to women gaining some voting rights in 1918 and full voting rights in 1928. The word “suffrage” means the right to vote, and “suffragette” describes the women involved in this movement.
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Free Entry to Museums and Galleries

Weekly Lesson – for study until Sunday the 9th of June

Audio – Available on all usual social media

Subject: Free Entry to Museums and Galleries, by Teacher Joseph

1.The Universal Access Scheme which granted free access to all Government Sponsored Museums, Art Galleries and some places of national interest in the UK began in December 2001.  This was known as a DCMS Scheme since the Government department responsible for these places is currently called the Department for Culture, Media and Sport (DCMS). Research claims that free entry to these places are key motivators for tourists visiting the UK. By removing entrance fees to these places, everyone, including tourists has free access to a type of Education which only the Arts and a dialogue about living history can bring.

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To be treated like Cattle (with Transcript)

Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: #768 To be treated like Cattle (with transcript). https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/joseph-mc42/episodes/768-To-be-treated-like-Cattle-with-transcript-e2jm6j7

Full transcript: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1o1Cxj13Rbidow4B972fyccKk2IAOluoPgnfZasJiI20/edit?usp=sharing

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To Hit the Right Note (With Transcript)

Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: #763 To Hit the Right Note (with transcript)

https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/joseph-mc42/episodes/763-To-Hit-the-Right-Note-with-transcript-e2ji4d5

Today’s Idiom to help you learn English is “to hit the right note”. Also:

  1. Nemo, a Swiss non binary singer wins Eurovision.
  2. An Archeological dig in Orkney will vanish again into the earth.
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Getting Nowhere Meaning (from Today’s Podcast)

The expression “getting nowhere” is used to describe a situation where no progress is being made or when someone is not achieving any success despite their efforts. It suggests that despite the time, energy, or resources invested in trying to accomplish something, the outcome remains unchanged or the goal remains unattained. This phrase can be used in various contexts, from personal endeavors like trying to learn a new skill without seeing improvement, to professional scenarios where efforts to complete a project or achieve a target are proving fruitless. It conveys a sense of frustration or stagnation, where actions do not lead to any significant advancement or positive results.

  1. In a professional context: Despite the team’s overtime and weekend work, the project’s completion date seems no closer. The manager sighed and admitted, “We’re getting nowhere with this approach; it’s time to rethink our strategy.”
  2. Learning a new language: After months of trying to learn Japanese on her own, Maria felt she was still unable to hold a basic conversation. She expressed her frustration to a friend, saying, “I’ve been studying every day, but I feel like I’m getting nowhere.”
  3. In personal fitness: Kevin had been going to the gym regularly for the past year but saw little change in his physique. Disheartened, he told his trainer, “I’ve been consistent with my workouts, but it seems like I’m getting nowhere with my fitness goals.”
  4. In a relationship: Emma and Alex had been attending couples therapy to work on their communication issues. However, after several sessions with little improvement, Emma reflected, “We’ve been trying to work through our problems, but it feels like we’re getting nowhere. Maybe it’s time to reconsider our approach.”

Auctions – An Explanation (B2)

Auctions can be categorized into several types, each with unique rules and strategies. The most common include:

  1. English Auctions: Also known as open ascending price auctions, these involve bidders openly submitting higher bids until no further bids are made. The item is sold to the highest bidder. This type is prevalent in traditional auction houses and online platforms like eBay.
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The Gerund

A gerund is a verb form that ends in “-ing” and functions as a noun in a sentence. It’s an essential aspect of English grammar, allowing verbs to play the role of subjects, objects, or complement to other words in sentences. Here are some key points about gerunds with examples to help illustrate their use:

1. As a Subject of a Sentence

Gerunds can act as the subject of a sentence, where they refer to an activity or a process.

  • Example: “Swimming is a good exercise.”
  • In this sentence, “Swimming” (a gerund from the verb “swim”) is the subject performing the action of being a good exercise.

2. As an Object of a Verb

Gerunds can serve as the object of a verb, which means they receive the action of the verb in a sentence.

  • Example: “I enjoy reading.”
  • Here, “reading” is the gerund functioning as the object of the verb “enjoy.”

3. As an Object of a Preposition

Gerunds are often used as the object of a preposition within a sentence, linking it to the rest of the sentence’s elements.

  • Example: “She is good at drawing.”
  • “Drawing” acts as the object of the preposition “at,” indicating the activity she excels in.

4. As a Subject Complement

Gerunds can also function as a subject complement, which is a word or group of words that follows a linking verb and renames, describes, or provides more information about the subject.

  • Example: “My favorite hobby is painting.”
  • “Painting” is the gerund used as a subject complement to describe the subject “my favorite hobby.”

5. After Certain Verbs

Specific verbs are followed directly by gerunds rather than infinitives. These include verbs like enjoy, avoid, consider, and suggest.

  • Example: “They avoided walking after dark.”
  • “Walking” is the gerund used after the verb “avoided” to specify the action they avoided.

Usage Tips

  • Not all “-ing” words are gerunds; they can also be present participles acting as adjectives or forming continuous tense verbs. Context determines whether an “-ing” word is a gerund.
  • Gerunds are useful for making sentences more concise and for focusing on the action as a concept rather than on its execution by a subject.

Understanding and correctly using gerunds can significantly enhance your writing and speaking in English, allowing for more variety and complexity in expressing actions and ideas.

MBA Scholarships (C1 Level Essay)

MBA scholarships represent a pivotal investment in the cultivation of future business leaders, underscoring the symbiotic relationship between academic institutions and the broader business ecosystem. These financial awards are not merely mechanisms to alleviate the fiscal burden of higher education; they are strategic tools that foster diversity, meritocracy, and innovation within the MBA candidate pool.

Firstly, scholarships serve as a beacon for attracting a diverse array of talent. By mitigating the financial barriers to entry, institutions can ensure a rich tapestry of perspectives within their cohorts. This diversity is not solely demographic but extends to professional backgrounds, fostering a learning environment where cross-pollination of ideas stimulates innovation and critical thinking. In the context of global business challenges, the ability to draw upon a wide range of viewpoints is invaluable.

Merit-based scholarships, in particular, underscore a commitment to excellence. They reward individuals who have demonstrated exceptional academic achievements, leadership potential, or professional accomplishments, signaling to both recipients and their peers the paramount importance of sustained performance and ambition. This not only elevates the caliber of the student body but also aligns with the meritocratic ethos prevalent in competitive business landscapes.

Furthermore, MBA scholarships can act as a catalyst for innovation. By providing financial support to those with entrepreneurial aspirations, institutions can nurture the development of novel business solutions and ventures. This aligns with the broader objective of MBA programs to contribute to economic advancement and societal progress.

However, the strategic distribution of scholarships requires a nuanced understanding of the evolving dynamics within the business world. It demands that academic institutions not only recognize merit and potential but also consider the importance of creating equitable access to education. This approach ensures the cultivation of a leadership pool capable of navigating the complexities of the contemporary business environment.

In conclusion, MBA scholarships are more than financial aids; they are a critical investment in the future of business leadership. They play a crucial role in shaping an inclusive, dynamic, and innovative business landscape. As the global economy continues to evolve, the strategic importance of these scholarships in fostering a diverse and capable cadre of business leaders cannot be overstated.