Why does everyone expect me to have all the answers? On three occasions today I was confronted - yes, confronted would be the correct word - by people who turned to me and demanded immediate direction. I've been used to kids expecting answers but it's come as something of surprise that adults have a similar expectation of those who have been put into leadership positions - and I didn't even want to be here!
Part of me just wanted to snap back and tell them to work things out for themselves but I just managed to hold myself in check. Reflecting on these incidents it's clear that they just wanted to unburden themselves of responsibility. It's not that they didn't know what to do - it's just that they needed affirmation of their preferred choice of action. Perhaps that's what's leadership is about - affirmation not direction? I've never thought about this before but it's only when you find yourself in that position that you start to see that leaders are not the all powerful decision makers that I've perceived them to be throughout my career. The reality is much closer to the idea of the leader as servant - or at least that how it feels to me.
Tuesday 26 February 2008
Monday 25 February 2008
Family First
It’s been one of those typical Edinburgh February days. A howling gale, pouring rain and a dark foreboding sky. The Castle seemed to hunch over Princes Street and the black, shining, empty streets snaked out in every direction.
On our way to school the weather seemed to set the sombre tone for the rest of the day where everyone focused on our problems. I’ve started to meet first thing with our partners in community support, the police, and health every morning to receive an update of any issues. It appears that the food crisis is starting to extend beyond the bread shortage and there are worries about how long the kitchen can be supplied. The home meals service, which we deliver to our neighbours, has been identified as the priority followed by the school meals. Only if there is a surplus thereafter will the community kitchen be opened to those who need feeding. Meals will also be rationed to once a day for every person. There is hope that the government is ready to implement a national distribution system but it’s been so debilitated by the high absence rate that getting it off the ground has been delayed. What has been a surprise is that the supermarket companies have actually proved to be the most prepared for the pandemic. Their emergency plans have ensured that supplies have kept coming through from their main distribution centres – even if not in the previous scale. The problem has been the step before that with the amount of food getting to these centres – it’s this area that the government are trying to resolve.
One factor, which has not been anticipated – I can’t work out why as it seems so obvious – is that the demand for food is less than what had been expected. The reason being the exceptionally high death rate – there are simply a lot less people to feed.
I find myself torn in two directions when I hear information like this – the needs of my family and the needs of the school. I’ve always prided myself on my sense of empathy and that I can always see the other side of any argument. One of the changes, however, which I’ve undergone in the last few weeks, is that I now look out to my family’s needs first. I’ve been able to rationalise this by persuading myself that my capacity to lead the school will be compromised if I don’t ensure my family’s welfare. I’m sure countless leaders have worked things out in a similar way over the years but given some of my recent negative experiences when I’ve placed the need of the school – or myself first – I can justify my behaviour.
The whole school met at circle time and I shared the information about the rationing system of one meal a day. There was some unrest but I think people knew it was probably coming. I’ve made it clear that we need to ensure that we all eat – “don’t give your food to others” – which inevitably some of them will do. The other compounding problem is how families at home get enough food. However, we now have nearly 50% of the kids being accompanied by an adult/parent from their own family. They are regarded as part of our school and will also be fed. We are using these adults to support children other than their own and this seems to be working quite well. The adults are also starting to engage in the learning process themselves and the example they set for the kids is very useful. The learning atmosphere in the school is almost palpable with a grim determination that learning will be the way out of many of our problems. I sometimes wonder if that will actually be the case but at the very least this gives our community some hope at a time when hope is in short supply
On our way to school the weather seemed to set the sombre tone for the rest of the day where everyone focused on our problems. I’ve started to meet first thing with our partners in community support, the police, and health every morning to receive an update of any issues. It appears that the food crisis is starting to extend beyond the bread shortage and there are worries about how long the kitchen can be supplied. The home meals service, which we deliver to our neighbours, has been identified as the priority followed by the school meals. Only if there is a surplus thereafter will the community kitchen be opened to those who need feeding. Meals will also be rationed to once a day for every person. There is hope that the government is ready to implement a national distribution system but it’s been so debilitated by the high absence rate that getting it off the ground has been delayed. What has been a surprise is that the supermarket companies have actually proved to be the most prepared for the pandemic. Their emergency plans have ensured that supplies have kept coming through from their main distribution centres – even if not in the previous scale. The problem has been the step before that with the amount of food getting to these centres – it’s this area that the government are trying to resolve.
One factor, which has not been anticipated – I can’t work out why as it seems so obvious – is that the demand for food is less than what had been expected. The reason being the exceptionally high death rate – there are simply a lot less people to feed.
I find myself torn in two directions when I hear information like this – the needs of my family and the needs of the school. I’ve always prided myself on my sense of empathy and that I can always see the other side of any argument. One of the changes, however, which I’ve undergone in the last few weeks, is that I now look out to my family’s needs first. I’ve been able to rationalise this by persuading myself that my capacity to lead the school will be compromised if I don’t ensure my family’s welfare. I’m sure countless leaders have worked things out in a similar way over the years but given some of my recent negative experiences when I’ve placed the need of the school – or myself first – I can justify my behaviour.
The whole school met at circle time and I shared the information about the rationing system of one meal a day. There was some unrest but I think people knew it was probably coming. I’ve made it clear that we need to ensure that we all eat – “don’t give your food to others” – which inevitably some of them will do. The other compounding problem is how families at home get enough food. However, we now have nearly 50% of the kids being accompanied by an adult/parent from their own family. They are regarded as part of our school and will also be fed. We are using these adults to support children other than their own and this seems to be working quite well. The adults are also starting to engage in the learning process themselves and the example they set for the kids is very useful. The learning atmosphere in the school is almost palpable with a grim determination that learning will be the way out of many of our problems. I sometimes wonder if that will actually be the case but at the very least this gives our community some hope at a time when hope is in short supply
Sunday 24 February 2008
Bag Lady
I got out to see mum today and she continues to cling onto to her independence. A bus service has started up again and although it’s very limited, it at least gives me a chance to get out to see her without depending on Jennifer. The community are gradually getting together to ensure that regular contact is kept with the elderly. A community kitchen has opened up in much the same way as our school and she makes her way along there for lunch. She has also volunteered to visit some of the older people who can’t get out of their homes. It seems like there are spontaneous support systems starting up all over the country which are quite defying those who predicted that society could not survive something like this.
We talked about Granny Browning living with us and how she felt about that. As ever mum was able to rationalise the situation and also state quite categorically that she did not want to live in the filthy city!! – mum never was one to mince her words.
On my way home I saw queues of people waiting outside shops with bags. I remember visiting Russia in the 80’s and seeing similar queues of people waiting patiently just on the chance that the shops might have something. Here we are in Scotland 20 years later and it seems exactly the same. Rumours abound of bread deliveries and I’ve taken to carrying a shopping bag with me wherever I go.
Some cities have had rioting and looting in the last few days – which I might have expected earlier in the crisis but not as things have begun to level out. It seems mainly to be young people who have survived the infection but have not reengaged in the sort of community we’ve set up at the school. It does appear that there is a discrepancy between the more middle class areas and the council estates – where death rates have been higher and law and order more difficult to establish.
The army have been taking a higher profile in the city, as they have been elsewhere in the UK, and this does seem to keep things calmer – at least in the centre of the town. Once we get back from school we never go out in the evening and although the days are getting longer we have kept to this rule.
David seems to have settled down again and he is enjoying having his Granny staying with us. I’m not so sure that Libby feels the same and she’s a bit short tempered – especially with me.
I received letter yesterday from the council's undertaking service, which in a quite matter of fact way described Graham’s burial place. They said I can’t go out there yet as it is still under severe pressure. I'd been trying to put all memories of Graham's death a private place but it was cruelly exposed yesterday afternoon and I spent most ot the rest of the day trying to pull myself together. I spent a good hour in the bath with the radio up full and crying my eyes out. It didn't help when one the records which they played had been the music which had been playing when Graham and I first started going out with each other - Lionel Richie's "Hello".
At least the death rate is slowing but many of those who hid away in the first few weeks are now having to come out and as they are exposed to the virus they fall ill. Apparently there are people who have the virus but show no signs of illness and who have been key figures in the spread of the disease.
We talked about Granny Browning living with us and how she felt about that. As ever mum was able to rationalise the situation and also state quite categorically that she did not want to live in the filthy city!! – mum never was one to mince her words.
On my way home I saw queues of people waiting outside shops with bags. I remember visiting Russia in the 80’s and seeing similar queues of people waiting patiently just on the chance that the shops might have something. Here we are in Scotland 20 years later and it seems exactly the same. Rumours abound of bread deliveries and I’ve taken to carrying a shopping bag with me wherever I go.
Some cities have had rioting and looting in the last few days – which I might have expected earlier in the crisis but not as things have begun to level out. It seems mainly to be young people who have survived the infection but have not reengaged in the sort of community we’ve set up at the school. It does appear that there is a discrepancy between the more middle class areas and the council estates – where death rates have been higher and law and order more difficult to establish.
The army have been taking a higher profile in the city, as they have been elsewhere in the UK, and this does seem to keep things calmer – at least in the centre of the town. Once we get back from school we never go out in the evening and although the days are getting longer we have kept to this rule.
David seems to have settled down again and he is enjoying having his Granny staying with us. I’m not so sure that Libby feels the same and she’s a bit short tempered – especially with me.
I received letter yesterday from the council's undertaking service, which in a quite matter of fact way described Graham’s burial place. They said I can’t go out there yet as it is still under severe pressure. I'd been trying to put all memories of Graham's death a private place but it was cruelly exposed yesterday afternoon and I spent most ot the rest of the day trying to pull myself together. I spent a good hour in the bath with the radio up full and crying my eyes out. It didn't help when one the records which they played had been the music which had been playing when Graham and I first started going out with each other - Lionel Richie's "Hello".
At least the death rate is slowing but many of those who hid away in the first few weeks are now having to come out and as they are exposed to the virus they fall ill. Apparently there are people who have the virus but show no signs of illness and who have been key figures in the spread of the disease.
Saturday 23 February 2008
Our Daily Bread
The last few days have a had a single point of focus - food. For the first time this year we have been having real problems getting enough bread. At the beginning of the outbreak the supermarkets limited what people could buy and although many overseas goods became limited - especially fruit - we managed to get enough. I've also been gradually trying to stock up on items which don't require refrigeration and have built up a supply which would probably last us 3 weeks.
The big problem has been getting bread - I'd always taken that simple commodity for granted throughout my life - but it's only when there's not enough that you realise just how much of a staple it is in our diets. Apparently there were only 9 weeks of grain in store worldwide at the begiining of January and the problems with international transportation and local supply chains have meant that there's not enough flour being produced. Nobody has been able to explain to me why such things weren't thought about before this thing broke out. I can't believe how we seem to have sleepwalked into this!
Supermarkets have moved to ration supplies if they have any, but I haven't seen any bread on the shelves for the last two days.
The local authority have set up a community kitchen in our school and meals are provided throughout the day. We have to try to co-ordinate the meal times in the school with the community and we are really fortunate to have been joined by Tony Arnold - who was a project manager before he retired. Tony has taken on responsibility for all such co-ordination and this has left me free to work with people. One part of the community kitchen, which we've built into the school programme, is the delivery of home meals to the elderly who can't get to the kitchen. We've worked out an area around the school which is "our patch" and each "family" take it's turn to help deliver the meals. The meals themselves are fairly basic - mince and tatties, or a variation of - but at least it's promoting this growing feeling of community identity and mutual support.
The big problem has been getting bread - I'd always taken that simple commodity for granted throughout my life - but it's only when there's not enough that you realise just how much of a staple it is in our diets. Apparently there were only 9 weeks of grain in store worldwide at the begiining of January and the problems with international transportation and local supply chains have meant that there's not enough flour being produced. Nobody has been able to explain to me why such things weren't thought about before this thing broke out. I can't believe how we seem to have sleepwalked into this!
Supermarkets have moved to ration supplies if they have any, but I haven't seen any bread on the shelves for the last two days.
The local authority have set up a community kitchen in our school and meals are provided throughout the day. We have to try to co-ordinate the meal times in the school with the community and we are really fortunate to have been joined by Tony Arnold - who was a project manager before he retired. Tony has taken on responsibility for all such co-ordination and this has left me free to work with people. One part of the community kitchen, which we've built into the school programme, is the delivery of home meals to the elderly who can't get to the kitchen. We've worked out an area around the school which is "our patch" and each "family" take it's turn to help deliver the meals. The meals themselves are fairly basic - mince and tatties, or a variation of - but at least it's promoting this growing feeling of community identity and mutual support.
Tuesday 19 February 2008
The Unreluctant Leader
I’ve never aspired to a leadership position in my life. As the middle child I was always happiest trying to keep the peace between my sisters. Even my mum used to joke that I should join the Diplomatic Corp when I grew up – “ our own little Henry Kissinger”. Perhaps because I received so much positive reinforcement that this role became my comfort zone. Throughout my schooldays and university everyone seemed to come to me with their problems and I listened and responded – probably making very little difference but at least I had my place in our extended social group.
When I became a teacher I only ever wanted to teach my classes. Despite many offers and even pressure from principal teachers and senior managers to apply for vacant posts I kept my dignity by “staying with the kids”. I watched others begin their climb up the greasy pole of promotion and comforted myself that I was remaining true to my principles by refusing to compromise my beliefs. As time went on and I took a career break for the kids it suited me not to have any additional responsibility. I could arrive for work – concentrate on my own job and leave at the end of the day – with no unnecessary bureaucracy which seemed to so fill the time of those in promoted positions. As I came back into work full time I watched a succession of head teachers lead schools in different ways and once again I wondered why they would want such a job – so distant from the kids and so full to trivia.
The only time I ever considered applying for a job was a couple of years ago when Alison took some time off due to back trouble. My motivation was quite simple – I didn’t want anyone else coming into the department telling me what to do. In the end I didn’t apply – but for six months I had to support the acting principal teacher who everyone said wasn’t really up to the job. Throughout that time people used to come up to me and ask why I kept supporting him – they didn‘t know about my childhood programming.
Yet here I am – to all intents and purposes I am the head teacher of our school – by default, or at least that how it seems. Eve Anderson from the authority was in school again today and wanted to formalise my role – although she said that she wasn’t sure if it would mean anymore money at the moment as the council’s systems have all but shut down – I’m still waiting for my January salary. So why has it happened – why does someone with my peculiar set of skills – which I wouldn’t say are the traditional “leadership skills” - emerged as the leader? It’s certainly something I gave a lot of thought to during my recent expedition up North and I wonder if it might be to do with the need for conciliation, negotiation and mediation which are required to bring a community together. Certainly it seems to be having some effect and by all accounts the school was paralysed when I was away last week. Yet it’s not because I’m dominant- or at least I don’t think I am - it’s just seems that people need someone to give permission- even if it’s permission to do their own thing. I worry a bit that they become dependent upon me – in much the same way as I’ve seen many schools become dependent upon the leader. Perhaps it’s just part of the healing process – it gives stability and some certainty in a world where both are so sadly lacking?
Part of me – the secret part – is exhilarated by the responsibility, the opportunity and the fact that people do seem to defer to my opinion – even when I try so hard to present my ideas as the same as anyone else. I’m ashamed that I’ve reacted like this and I’d much prefer it if I was much more reluctant – but I’m not.
When I became a teacher I only ever wanted to teach my classes. Despite many offers and even pressure from principal teachers and senior managers to apply for vacant posts I kept my dignity by “staying with the kids”. I watched others begin their climb up the greasy pole of promotion and comforted myself that I was remaining true to my principles by refusing to compromise my beliefs. As time went on and I took a career break for the kids it suited me not to have any additional responsibility. I could arrive for work – concentrate on my own job and leave at the end of the day – with no unnecessary bureaucracy which seemed to so fill the time of those in promoted positions. As I came back into work full time I watched a succession of head teachers lead schools in different ways and once again I wondered why they would want such a job – so distant from the kids and so full to trivia.
The only time I ever considered applying for a job was a couple of years ago when Alison took some time off due to back trouble. My motivation was quite simple – I didn’t want anyone else coming into the department telling me what to do. In the end I didn’t apply – but for six months I had to support the acting principal teacher who everyone said wasn’t really up to the job. Throughout that time people used to come up to me and ask why I kept supporting him – they didn‘t know about my childhood programming.
Yet here I am – to all intents and purposes I am the head teacher of our school – by default, or at least that how it seems. Eve Anderson from the authority was in school again today and wanted to formalise my role – although she said that she wasn’t sure if it would mean anymore money at the moment as the council’s systems have all but shut down – I’m still waiting for my January salary. So why has it happened – why does someone with my peculiar set of skills – which I wouldn’t say are the traditional “leadership skills” - emerged as the leader? It’s certainly something I gave a lot of thought to during my recent expedition up North and I wonder if it might be to do with the need for conciliation, negotiation and mediation which are required to bring a community together. Certainly it seems to be having some effect and by all accounts the school was paralysed when I was away last week. Yet it’s not because I’m dominant- or at least I don’t think I am - it’s just seems that people need someone to give permission- even if it’s permission to do their own thing. I worry a bit that they become dependent upon me – in much the same way as I’ve seen many schools become dependent upon the leader. Perhaps it’s just part of the healing process – it gives stability and some certainty in a world where both are so sadly lacking?
Part of me – the secret part – is exhilarated by the responsibility, the opportunity and the fact that people do seem to defer to my opinion – even when I try so hard to present my ideas as the same as anyone else. I’m ashamed that I’ve reacted like this and I’d much prefer it if I was much more reluctant – but I’m not.
Monday 18 February 2008
Learning with company
Stephanie led the circle time this morning and what session it was.
I am constantly amazed by the difference in kids’ reaction to being led by an adult or being led by a peer. The fact that we said nothing for the entire session helped and it also meant that the thread which emerged was much purer than it might have been if we had thrown in our tuppence worth.
On reflection the time we’d spent last night talking about the issues and how she might draw out the ideas from the circle had been important and perhaps that’s the role we should be taking here – not leading up front but supporting from behind. I know there might be some of you out there who will see this as adult manipulation – and I could imagine how this could easily be the case – but if we really trust that the end result will always be better if we don’t try to manipulate, then it’s certainly worth not even attempting to interfere with the outcome.
Stephanie had started off describing her own experience of trying to learn on-line. She was honest about sitting in front of the computer and being drawn to her Facebook/Bebo sites – “it calls out to me” – the kids loved this and were all nodding their heads in agreement. The problem seems to be focused on a single simple – yet vitally important question – “why should I bother?” They come to school for company, food, warmth and company – and more company – in fact company is why they come to school. Yet when they enter an on-line learning environment they feel alone – or as one of the kids said – “it’s as if I’ve been sent out of the room”. Is it any wonder then that they respond to the call of their networked friends? As the conversation went on it became obvious that the answer lay in mirroring the social networking world – both physical and virtual when they are going to be learning. One of the kids talked at great length that one of the best things she does on her Bebo site is when she’s sitting beside a friend and they write and comment on other people’s sites. Stephanie remembered what we had been talking about last night towards the end of the morning when she asked each family to come up with ideas about how we could try to create “social learning” worlds – where learning takes place with others or in sight of others.
When they returned in the afternoon – the problem seemed to be overwhelmed by the flow of creative solutions. The common feature was that on-line learning should be seen as a group activity – where the learner works with others and shares their ideas, problems and thoughts – “in just the same way as we did this morning”. Partner working – sitting, either physically or virtually, beside a learning partner – was seen to be a crucial element – and also that they could have different learning partners for different things was a recurring theme.
They also wanted to have access to “rooms” where they could learn as part of a group – where audio and video linked them – rather than just always contacting each other through text. But the really important thing, which came out again and again, was that they wanted to see how they would be tested. I had to sit on my hands at this point as I’ve always fought against “teaching to the test” – yet here were the kids demanding – there’s that word again – that they needed to know the tests and understand what they had to know to pass. They then wanted to able to sit tests as groups – and through trial and error get to the point where they could pass on their own. The other point here was about passing – not being the best – not getting an “A”, just passing. I think it’s got something to do with the utilitarian approach which is overtaking everything at this time – “if I need to know this then help me to know it” – how they get to know it doesn’t seem to generate the degree of hand-wringing that it used to do amongst teachers.
I am constantly amazed by the difference in kids’ reaction to being led by an adult or being led by a peer. The fact that we said nothing for the entire session helped and it also meant that the thread which emerged was much purer than it might have been if we had thrown in our tuppence worth.
On reflection the time we’d spent last night talking about the issues and how she might draw out the ideas from the circle had been important and perhaps that’s the role we should be taking here – not leading up front but supporting from behind. I know there might be some of you out there who will see this as adult manipulation – and I could imagine how this could easily be the case – but if we really trust that the end result will always be better if we don’t try to manipulate, then it’s certainly worth not even attempting to interfere with the outcome.
Stephanie had started off describing her own experience of trying to learn on-line. She was honest about sitting in front of the computer and being drawn to her Facebook/Bebo sites – “it calls out to me” – the kids loved this and were all nodding their heads in agreement. The problem seems to be focused on a single simple – yet vitally important question – “why should I bother?” They come to school for company, food, warmth and company – and more company – in fact company is why they come to school. Yet when they enter an on-line learning environment they feel alone – or as one of the kids said – “it’s as if I’ve been sent out of the room”. Is it any wonder then that they respond to the call of their networked friends? As the conversation went on it became obvious that the answer lay in mirroring the social networking world – both physical and virtual when they are going to be learning. One of the kids talked at great length that one of the best things she does on her Bebo site is when she’s sitting beside a friend and they write and comment on other people’s sites. Stephanie remembered what we had been talking about last night towards the end of the morning when she asked each family to come up with ideas about how we could try to create “social learning” worlds – where learning takes place with others or in sight of others.
When they returned in the afternoon – the problem seemed to be overwhelmed by the flow of creative solutions. The common feature was that on-line learning should be seen as a group activity – where the learner works with others and shares their ideas, problems and thoughts – “in just the same way as we did this morning”. Partner working – sitting, either physically or virtually, beside a learning partner – was seen to be a crucial element – and also that they could have different learning partners for different things was a recurring theme.
They also wanted to have access to “rooms” where they could learn as part of a group – where audio and video linked them – rather than just always contacting each other through text. But the really important thing, which came out again and again, was that they wanted to see how they would be tested. I had to sit on my hands at this point as I’ve always fought against “teaching to the test” – yet here were the kids demanding – there’s that word again – that they needed to know the tests and understand what they had to know to pass. They then wanted to able to sit tests as groups – and through trial and error get to the point where they could pass on their own. The other point here was about passing – not being the best – not getting an “A”, just passing. I think it’s got something to do with the utilitarian approach which is overtaking everything at this time – “if I need to know this then help me to know it” – how they get to know it doesn’t seem to generate the degree of hand-wringing that it used to do amongst teachers.
Sunday 17 February 2008
On-Line (but not) Learning
Libby and Stephanie brought us up to date with what had been going on school during the days we'd been away. What was apparent was that our thoughts that on-line learning was going to be our saviour have been badly misplaced. It seems that Malik's enthusiasm is not matched by the kids willingness to actually spend time on-line going through the content - they are too used to dipping in and out and "chatting" on Bebo that they can't actually use the materials effectively. In fact Libby said that she had to disconnect her computer from the internet because she wasn't getting any work done.
Such a discovery shouldn't really take us by surprise - we know that most kids left to their own devices won't choose to "study" - especially if competing with the opportunity to "chat" with other teenagers. I wonder why/how we deceived ourselves that this wouldn't be the case?
Stephanie wants to lead a circle tommorrow to try to find a solution to this problem. If we can't get this to work we will need to go back to teachers/adults leading the children through content in much the same way as we have always done - the problem being that we don't have enough teachers/adults who have expertise in particular subjects. For example - I can teach RME and could probably get away with basic level English, and one or two other subjects but I wouldn't know where to begin if it was physics or languages.
The irony of all this is that when we have discussed this before the kids have been enthusiastic and apparently committed - yet when we try to put this into action the reality appears to be quite different. Any ideas out there?
Such a discovery shouldn't really take us by surprise - we know that most kids left to their own devices won't choose to "study" - especially if competing with the opportunity to "chat" with other teenagers. I wonder why/how we deceived ourselves that this wouldn't be the case?
Stephanie wants to lead a circle tommorrow to try to find a solution to this problem. If we can't get this to work we will need to go back to teachers/adults leading the children through content in much the same way as we have always done - the problem being that we don't have enough teachers/adults who have expertise in particular subjects. For example - I can teach RME and could probably get away with basic level English, and one or two other subjects but I wouldn't know where to begin if it was physics or languages.
The irony of all this is that when we have discussed this before the kids have been enthusiastic and apparently committed - yet when we try to put this into action the reality appears to be quite different. Any ideas out there?
Confession
Today I have something to confess. It’s not going to be easy but I have to tell someone.
I’m not a good mother. There - I've said it - I’d never been that sure that I was cut out for motherhood, it was something that just happened, that you were expected to do, but the experience of the last week has only confirmed that I’m far too selfish to have been allowed to be a mother. Who else would have spent so much time thinking about themselves and their work and left their children at home less than a week after the death of their father? How will my children ever forgive me?
Yet David has been remarkable since we got back home - it’s as if his journey up North was much more than just a physical achievement. He seems some much more at peace with himself than he has been at any time since his father’s death. More surprisingly he appears to hold no grudge against me despite my fears that it was my behaviour that triggered his desire to leave home. We spent all day at home yesterday settling Granny Browning into her room. The need for family seems to be such a strong reaction to this crisis. If I had been asked to guess how people might have responded to such an event I would have thought that it might have had the opposite effect – with people driven into themselves – breaking their ties and concentrating upon their own welfare. The reality has – almost without exception – been the reverse. Humanity has come to the surface – despite my feelings that society was on the verge of breakdown prior to the outbreak it has pulled together. Watching the news from across the world there are countless stories of self-sacrifice, communities supporting each other, and acts of tremendous courage.
One of the things that I’ve learned from the last week is that my family comes first, second and always – regardless of what might be going on anywhere else in my life – no matter how many other people might be benefiting.
I’m not a good mother. There - I've said it - I’d never been that sure that I was cut out for motherhood, it was something that just happened, that you were expected to do, but the experience of the last week has only confirmed that I’m far too selfish to have been allowed to be a mother. Who else would have spent so much time thinking about themselves and their work and left their children at home less than a week after the death of their father? How will my children ever forgive me?
Yet David has been remarkable since we got back home - it’s as if his journey up North was much more than just a physical achievement. He seems some much more at peace with himself than he has been at any time since his father’s death. More surprisingly he appears to hold no grudge against me despite my fears that it was my behaviour that triggered his desire to leave home. We spent all day at home yesterday settling Granny Browning into her room. The need for family seems to be such a strong reaction to this crisis. If I had been asked to guess how people might have responded to such an event I would have thought that it might have had the opposite effect – with people driven into themselves – breaking their ties and concentrating upon their own welfare. The reality has – almost without exception – been the reverse. Humanity has come to the surface – despite my feelings that society was on the verge of breakdown prior to the outbreak it has pulled together. Watching the news from across the world there are countless stories of self-sacrifice, communities supporting each other, and acts of tremendous courage.
One of the things that I’ve learned from the last week is that my family comes first, second and always – regardless of what might be going on anywhere else in my life – no matter how many other people might be benefiting.
Saturday 16 February 2008
Together again
The roller coaster we've been experiencing since the beginning of the year continued this week when we woke up on Wednesday morning and found that David had gone.
He'd left no note but had taken his rucksack, some food and his sleeping bag. Neither Libby nor Stephanie had any idea where he might have gone and they went through his Bebo site to see if there might be any clues. He had been communicating with lots of people his own age and older, both locally and from across the world. He seemed to have a particularly frequent contact with Bethany, a girl from San Francisco, who had gone through many of the same experiences as David, although she had lost both her parents and was caring for her six year old sister. We discounted any possibility that he might be trying to get there as air travel had been suspended very early in the crisis.
We heard nothing for the rest of that day – I’d decided to wait at home in case he came back but the girls went into school. That night I got a phone call from David in Fife. He had decided to walk to Stonehaven to see his granny. In that instant it all became clear – he didn’t say as much – but I could hear in his voice that he just wanted some normality – his granny had always been very special to him, ever since we used to go and stay with them on their farm outside Stonehaven. David loved going up and staying on with them after we came home: whether it be collecting eggs, picking strawberries, or sitting beside his grandfather as he drove the tractor – he just loved it. He’d never been able to adjust to the death of his grandad, or even worse when the farm was sold and granny had to move into the home in Stonehaven.
It was as if he felt it his duty to look after her. With Graham no longer here he had taken it upon himself to set out and walk to Stonehaven. He’d phoned me from near Perth – and had found an old barn to sleep in for the night. He tried not to show it but he was obviously very scared. He told me his phone was running out of a power but that he would phone me the next day.
I spent all that night trying to find someone who could give me a lift up to Stonehaven but no-one had any petrol. The public transport system was still shut down to prevent spread of infection – a bit late! – and Jennifer couldn’t get access to a police car for a journey of that length. Early on Thursday morning I set off for on foot, leaving Libby and Stephanie to look after each other.
The next two days were like living in some futuristic film. Although the city was a dangerous place, at least the police and army ensured some degree of safety and control. The city was also a very quiet place with so many having left in the early stages of the outbreak and so many others just holed up at home. As soon as you left the city it became a different world. There were campsites everywhere, and burnt out homes seemed to be around every corner. I tried to skirt away from any groups of people but that added miles to my journey. I can’t bring myself to go into the details here but I didn’t get to Stonehaven until Friday afternoon. In the course of my journey which I did without really stopping or eating properly I was nearly raped by a man who said he wanted to help me – he broke my nose (I think) – and had my sleeping bag and mobile phone stolen.
I can’t describe the feeling when I eventually got to granny’s new home and was welcomed by David. I didn’t blame him – it had been my fault – I’d been so focused on myself, the school and how I was getting over Graham and Kristy’s deaths that I’d quite ignored David and Libby just because everything seemed to be alright on the outside.
I’d phoned home last night and Libby explained how Jennifer had been trying to get in touch with me. Superintendent Mike Harper had been in touch with her and explained that I was to be regarded as “key personnel” in my role at the school. She arranged for a police car to take us back to Edinburgh this morning. David said he wouldn't leave his granny and that she had to come home with us or he would be staying with her. It was quite obvious that this was not a matter for discussion - Granny Browning agreed to come with us - she had been separated from her friends when the home had been split up so hadn't anything to leave behind. My only pang of guilt was the fact that we were taking her home and I'd left my own mother alone - on reflection I knew this wasn't really the case as mum would never have left her own home.
We all got back an hour ago and the relief and joy of being home and having the kids with me is wonderful. I’ll not make that mistake again! Sorry.
He'd left no note but had taken his rucksack, some food and his sleeping bag. Neither Libby nor Stephanie had any idea where he might have gone and they went through his Bebo site to see if there might be any clues. He had been communicating with lots of people his own age and older, both locally and from across the world. He seemed to have a particularly frequent contact with Bethany, a girl from San Francisco, who had gone through many of the same experiences as David, although she had lost both her parents and was caring for her six year old sister. We discounted any possibility that he might be trying to get there as air travel had been suspended very early in the crisis.
We heard nothing for the rest of that day – I’d decided to wait at home in case he came back but the girls went into school. That night I got a phone call from David in Fife. He had decided to walk to Stonehaven to see his granny. In that instant it all became clear – he didn’t say as much – but I could hear in his voice that he just wanted some normality – his granny had always been very special to him, ever since we used to go and stay with them on their farm outside Stonehaven. David loved going up and staying on with them after we came home: whether it be collecting eggs, picking strawberries, or sitting beside his grandfather as he drove the tractor – he just loved it. He’d never been able to adjust to the death of his grandad, or even worse when the farm was sold and granny had to move into the home in Stonehaven.
It was as if he felt it his duty to look after her. With Graham no longer here he had taken it upon himself to set out and walk to Stonehaven. He’d phoned me from near Perth – and had found an old barn to sleep in for the night. He tried not to show it but he was obviously very scared. He told me his phone was running out of a power but that he would phone me the next day.
I spent all that night trying to find someone who could give me a lift up to Stonehaven but no-one had any petrol. The public transport system was still shut down to prevent spread of infection – a bit late! – and Jennifer couldn’t get access to a police car for a journey of that length. Early on Thursday morning I set off for on foot, leaving Libby and Stephanie to look after each other.
The next two days were like living in some futuristic film. Although the city was a dangerous place, at least the police and army ensured some degree of safety and control. The city was also a very quiet place with so many having left in the early stages of the outbreak and so many others just holed up at home. As soon as you left the city it became a different world. There were campsites everywhere, and burnt out homes seemed to be around every corner. I tried to skirt away from any groups of people but that added miles to my journey. I can’t bring myself to go into the details here but I didn’t get to Stonehaven until Friday afternoon. In the course of my journey which I did without really stopping or eating properly I was nearly raped by a man who said he wanted to help me – he broke my nose (I think) – and had my sleeping bag and mobile phone stolen.
I can’t describe the feeling when I eventually got to granny’s new home and was welcomed by David. I didn’t blame him – it had been my fault – I’d been so focused on myself, the school and how I was getting over Graham and Kristy’s deaths that I’d quite ignored David and Libby just because everything seemed to be alright on the outside.
I’d phoned home last night and Libby explained how Jennifer had been trying to get in touch with me. Superintendent Mike Harper had been in touch with her and explained that I was to be regarded as “key personnel” in my role at the school. She arranged for a police car to take us back to Edinburgh this morning. David said he wouldn't leave his granny and that she had to come home with us or he would be staying with her. It was quite obvious that this was not a matter for discussion - Granny Browning agreed to come with us - she had been separated from her friends when the home had been split up so hadn't anything to leave behind. My only pang of guilt was the fact that we were taking her home and I'd left my own mother alone - on reflection I knew this wasn't really the case as mum would never have left her own home.
We all got back an hour ago and the relief and joy of being home and having the kids with me is wonderful. I’ll not make that mistake again! Sorry.
Tuesday 12 February 2008
"I'm not a bloody social worker!"
“I’m not a bloody social worker!”
I’ll never forget it when a teacher I used to work with once screamed this out at a staff meeting to discuss a child who was having real problems at home. This comment unleashed a torrent of agreement from colleagues who all believed that they had come into the profession to teach their subject – he went on “If he doesn’t want to learn then don’t stick him in my room, where he just disrupts everyone who does want to learn." I'm ashamed to admit it that I sat in silence throughout.
That was a few years ago now but I think there was still (until January) a significant implicit sympathy for that perspective – although it wasn’t quite expressed in these extreme terms anymore.
The reason for mentioning this today is that being a “social worker” is exactly what we are – and what we must be first and foremost before any teaching can take place. This was hammered home this morning when I had to work with one of our younger kids – Mikey – who brought his mum (Sharon) into school with him. Sharon was a poor creature who had – in common with most of us – seen her family die in front of her. She had experienced some sort of breakdown and – in much the same way as I had felt at the end of last week - had folded in on herself. Mikey was now the carer and he didn’t want to leave her at home – Mikey is 10!
We had touched upon this aspect of our work at the meeting on Sunday where our community hub was going to help people exactly like Sharon. It had been easy to agree to such things at the meeting but to actually be faced with it in the flesh was quite different. As with most things we decided to take it to the circle and try to work out how we were going to help people like Sharon. Out of our 12 adults we already had 4 parents but they all had some oblique background in education or social care – here was someone who needed to be cared for.
Once again the kids rose to the challenge and demanded - yes "demanded" would be the right word – that we see our responsibilities as being much more than just educating them. They suggested that it would be the responsibility of one of the family groups to provide care for such people on a daily basis. They would work out what was required but it was to be a priority over any other part of the programme we were devising.
In the afternoon Malik sat down with four kids at a time and started to work out personal programmes – it’s very apparent that although they are very conversant with technology they haven’t really used it for productive learning – this is definitely something we are going to have to work on.
When we got home this evening I received the best news I’ve had all year – Graham’s mum is alive. They had shipped out the elderly to smaller homes at the outset of the outbreak and she had suffered a small turn – the place where she was staying didn’t have our number and had only just been informed of our contact address. We talked for ages on the phone and spent so much of our time talking about Kirsty and Graham. I found it good to talk openly about them for really the first time and although we cried and snuffled our way through the conversation I came off feeling a lot better than had been when we’d got home.
Libby and David also spoke to her and I think they also found it to be a cathartic experience.
I’m just a bit worried about David at the moment – his natural exhuberance has gone and he spends a lot of his time in his room on the internet or playing his computer games.
I’ll never forget it when a teacher I used to work with once screamed this out at a staff meeting to discuss a child who was having real problems at home. This comment unleashed a torrent of agreement from colleagues who all believed that they had come into the profession to teach their subject – he went on “If he doesn’t want to learn then don’t stick him in my room, where he just disrupts everyone who does want to learn." I'm ashamed to admit it that I sat in silence throughout.
That was a few years ago now but I think there was still (until January) a significant implicit sympathy for that perspective – although it wasn’t quite expressed in these extreme terms anymore.
The reason for mentioning this today is that being a “social worker” is exactly what we are – and what we must be first and foremost before any teaching can take place. This was hammered home this morning when I had to work with one of our younger kids – Mikey – who brought his mum (Sharon) into school with him. Sharon was a poor creature who had – in common with most of us – seen her family die in front of her. She had experienced some sort of breakdown and – in much the same way as I had felt at the end of last week - had folded in on herself. Mikey was now the carer and he didn’t want to leave her at home – Mikey is 10!
We had touched upon this aspect of our work at the meeting on Sunday where our community hub was going to help people exactly like Sharon. It had been easy to agree to such things at the meeting but to actually be faced with it in the flesh was quite different. As with most things we decided to take it to the circle and try to work out how we were going to help people like Sharon. Out of our 12 adults we already had 4 parents but they all had some oblique background in education or social care – here was someone who needed to be cared for.
Once again the kids rose to the challenge and demanded - yes "demanded" would be the right word – that we see our responsibilities as being much more than just educating them. They suggested that it would be the responsibility of one of the family groups to provide care for such people on a daily basis. They would work out what was required but it was to be a priority over any other part of the programme we were devising.
In the afternoon Malik sat down with four kids at a time and started to work out personal programmes – it’s very apparent that although they are very conversant with technology they haven’t really used it for productive learning – this is definitely something we are going to have to work on.
When we got home this evening I received the best news I’ve had all year – Graham’s mum is alive. They had shipped out the elderly to smaller homes at the outset of the outbreak and she had suffered a small turn – the place where she was staying didn’t have our number and had only just been informed of our contact address. We talked for ages on the phone and spent so much of our time talking about Kirsty and Graham. I found it good to talk openly about them for really the first time and although we cried and snuffled our way through the conversation I came off feeling a lot better than had been when we’d got home.
Libby and David also spoke to her and I think they also found it to be a cathartic experience.
I’m just a bit worried about David at the moment – his natural exhuberance has gone and he spends a lot of his time in his room on the internet or playing his computer games.
Monday 11 February 2008
Frankly my dear I don't give damn!!
The city seems to be getting quieter and quieter. On our walk to school this morning we only saw a few cars and most of these belonged to police or other emergency services. The mist which hung over the city today made it damp and miserable and the journey seemed to take much longer than normal.
KathyFL asked me yesterday if we had been having any power cuts or other utility disruptions. I’ve been surprised that there have been no power outages – although we have had warnings. The water supply has never been cut but we have been warned to boil any water for drinking. Our plans for using on-line learning would certainly be disrupted if we were to lose power.
Malik came to today’s circle meeting and held the kids spellbound for nearly two hours. He showed how they could use their Bebo/Facebook spaces to set up links to other learning sites available in the UK. The Government have brought a special group together to pull together resources on a UK basis and although Scotland has always done its own thing as far as qualifications and courses have gone it seems sensible to tap into what’s most easily available. Anyway it’s not so much the resources which are going to prove the problem it’s going to be helping kids to use them in a useful and productive way. One of the points, which emerged at yesterday’s meeting, had been the need to look for courses that would be more utilitarian than we might have been looking for just a few weeks ago. The old imperative that kids did courses to gain entry to university or college has disappeared – it’s much more about what do we need to get by and "how do I make contribution to society?"
But all that’s still way down the line as our focus is still on how we get through the current crisis. With only a 50% infection rate there are still many people who have yet to be exposed to the infection – especially as so many are still locked in their own homes. It appears that many loaded up with provisions in the first few days and haven’t ventured out since. That certainly placed a real burden on shops but it explains why so few people have been turning up at work.
We now have 105 kids and 15 adults at our newly named Sunlight Community Hub – the kids spent most of today designing leaflets to be posted around local homes explaining the services we can offer and looking for additional support. The local health centre has taken over a university hostel and is still tending for those who call in with symptoms. The Penicuik Barracks have been supplemented with a number of other emergency hospitals who take the worst cases – although most of the severe cases never make it out of their homes due to lack of transport. The local authority is concentrating on managing the death toll and I heard yesterday that there are mass graves sites on the outskirt of the city.
Malik has agreed to join our team and will be helping us to set up our on-line learning systems by keeping the equipment going and providing advice. One of the key things which is definitely happening is that most of kids formal learning is happening out of school – our focus when they’re here is on lifting their spirits and on social contact and mutual support. It seems such a powerful way of structuring our time. The one thing which has taken off is our reading club where we all spend an hour each afternoon reading a book of our own choice. Each family spends some time discussing a couple of the books. We are using the school library but kids and adults are also bringing in their own books. I think one of the reasons that this is so successful is that TV, newspapers and the internet are all submerged in the crisis – at least for an hour and half each day we can escape. I’m reading “Gone with The Wind” by Margaret Mitchell, which I last read as a fourteen year old – complete escapism! “Frankly my dear I don’t give a damn!!”
KathyFL asked me yesterday if we had been having any power cuts or other utility disruptions. I’ve been surprised that there have been no power outages – although we have had warnings. The water supply has never been cut but we have been warned to boil any water for drinking. Our plans for using on-line learning would certainly be disrupted if we were to lose power.
Malik came to today’s circle meeting and held the kids spellbound for nearly two hours. He showed how they could use their Bebo/Facebook spaces to set up links to other learning sites available in the UK. The Government have brought a special group together to pull together resources on a UK basis and although Scotland has always done its own thing as far as qualifications and courses have gone it seems sensible to tap into what’s most easily available. Anyway it’s not so much the resources which are going to prove the problem it’s going to be helping kids to use them in a useful and productive way. One of the points, which emerged at yesterday’s meeting, had been the need to look for courses that would be more utilitarian than we might have been looking for just a few weeks ago. The old imperative that kids did courses to gain entry to university or college has disappeared – it’s much more about what do we need to get by and "how do I make contribution to society?"
But all that’s still way down the line as our focus is still on how we get through the current crisis. With only a 50% infection rate there are still many people who have yet to be exposed to the infection – especially as so many are still locked in their own homes. It appears that many loaded up with provisions in the first few days and haven’t ventured out since. That certainly placed a real burden on shops but it explains why so few people have been turning up at work.
We now have 105 kids and 15 adults at our newly named Sunlight Community Hub – the kids spent most of today designing leaflets to be posted around local homes explaining the services we can offer and looking for additional support. The local health centre has taken over a university hostel and is still tending for those who call in with symptoms. The Penicuik Barracks have been supplemented with a number of other emergency hospitals who take the worst cases – although most of the severe cases never make it out of their homes due to lack of transport. The local authority is concentrating on managing the death toll and I heard yesterday that there are mass graves sites on the outskirt of the city.
Malik has agreed to join our team and will be helping us to set up our on-line learning systems by keeping the equipment going and providing advice. One of the key things which is definitely happening is that most of kids formal learning is happening out of school – our focus when they’re here is on lifting their spirits and on social contact and mutual support. It seems such a powerful way of structuring our time. The one thing which has taken off is our reading club where we all spend an hour each afternoon reading a book of our own choice. Each family spends some time discussing a couple of the books. We are using the school library but kids and adults are also bringing in their own books. I think one of the reasons that this is so successful is that TV, newspapers and the internet are all submerged in the crisis – at least for an hour and half each day we can escape. I’m reading “Gone with The Wind” by Margaret Mitchell, which I last read as a fourteen year old – complete escapism! “Frankly my dear I don’t give a damn!!”
Sunday 10 February 2008
Community Hubs
I was invited to attend a meeting this afternoon at the Council Offices beside Waverly Station. There were representatives of the police, health, education, social work and other services. The Emergency Team are trying to co-ordinate the various schools and community support centres which have sprung up across the city. Almost without exception these have been established in a very ad hoc manner where people - very much like myself - have felt duty bound to do something in the face of the destructive force of the outbreak. Superintendent Mike Harper and Eve Anderson seem to be very much at the heart of bringing us all together and, as I mentioned on Friday, it's good to be part of something bigger.
Very few of the people there had held senior positions before the virus struck but rank or position no longer seemed to be as important as it had been before. There were nine of us there who were working in a school setting and we talked about some of the challenges we were facing - I was surprised how we had all responded in a similar ways by focusing upon care and welfare in the first instance and had moved away from the familiar way of organising schools so quickly.
One of the survivors from the council who joined us was Malik Ahmed, who was an ICT technician in the corporate IT division. He wanted to work with us to use the web to support children's learning. He has some really good ideas about how we can use on-line courses and resources in an interactive way. I'd never really heard of web 2.0 (e.g. hadn't realised that this blog was part of Web 2.0) but he seemed so enthusiastic about how we could use it to overcome so many of the obstacles facing us that I really do think it might be the answer to many of our educational problems. He's going to come out to school tomorrow to speak to our circle and the other schools are going to send someone along to take part.
A lot of the meeting was focused on how we could all provide support for the surrounding community as opposed to only being a school, a community centre, a library, or a health centre. They want to create teams of people who work in these places - I think they're going to call them "Community Hubs" where health care, education, community support, food and all the other services can be provided. It seems to sensible I can't think why we didn't have something like this before the outbreak. The one thing which I really find so rewarding about all this is how we come together in such a positive manner - there's no points scoring or self-importance about anyone or anything we do - it's as if we've been stripped down to the bare essentials and we can see clearly for the first time in our lives. As I write this I know it might sound like I think that this "thing" has been good for us - it hasn't - but, as Mike Harper said this afternoon - we need to turn everything to our advantage.
Very few of the people there had held senior positions before the virus struck but rank or position no longer seemed to be as important as it had been before. There were nine of us there who were working in a school setting and we talked about some of the challenges we were facing - I was surprised how we had all responded in a similar ways by focusing upon care and welfare in the first instance and had moved away from the familiar way of organising schools so quickly.
One of the survivors from the council who joined us was Malik Ahmed, who was an ICT technician in the corporate IT division. He wanted to work with us to use the web to support children's learning. He has some really good ideas about how we can use on-line courses and resources in an interactive way. I'd never really heard of web 2.0 (e.g. hadn't realised that this blog was part of Web 2.0) but he seemed so enthusiastic about how we could use it to overcome so many of the obstacles facing us that I really do think it might be the answer to many of our educational problems. He's going to come out to school tomorrow to speak to our circle and the other schools are going to send someone along to take part.
A lot of the meeting was focused on how we could all provide support for the surrounding community as opposed to only being a school, a community centre, a library, or a health centre. They want to create teams of people who work in these places - I think they're going to call them "Community Hubs" where health care, education, community support, food and all the other services can be provided. It seems to sensible I can't think why we didn't have something like this before the outbreak. The one thing which I really find so rewarding about all this is how we come together in such a positive manner - there's no points scoring or self-importance about anyone or anything we do - it's as if we've been stripped down to the bare essentials and we can see clearly for the first time in our lives. As I write this I know it might sound like I think that this "thing" has been good for us - it hasn't - but, as Mike Harper said this afternoon - we need to turn everything to our advantage.
Thursday 7 February 2008
Contact
I had to really force myself to go to school this morning - but I thought that if I didn't make it today I would probably never be able to face it again.
It made a huge difference as I came though the door that so many people came up and hugged me. It's funny how the traditional formality of school has been put to one side by what's happened - the feeling of mutual support and - if it's not too strong a word - "love" which exists between us all is something to be relished.
Since I'd been way we had been contacted by the local authority. Eve Anderson from the Emergency Team had first phoned and then arranged to visit today. I met with her and a couple of the other adults over lunch. She wanted to help us set up the school in a more organised manner as a place which could provide support to the local community in the form of food and medical care, whilst still educating the kids. Eve was so understanding about what we had been through and didn't push anything upon us but the ideas were so close to what we had already agreed that there was no objection.
Eve then spoke to the circle and explained to everyone how they all had a role to play in helping eachother anf their community. The kids wanted to talk with here for ages and were so excited that what we had set up by ourselves could now make difference to so many more people.
Eve's coming back tomorrow with some people from Health and Social Services to help us set up our Centre. In many ways her intervention has come at just the right time - the burden on me has lifted just be feeling that there's something else out there to which we are connected. I think I'd been kidding myself that we could do everything by ourselves - despite the attractiveness of doing our own thing.
It made a huge difference as I came though the door that so many people came up and hugged me. It's funny how the traditional formality of school has been put to one side by what's happened - the feeling of mutual support and - if it's not too strong a word - "love" which exists between us all is something to be relished.
Since I'd been way we had been contacted by the local authority. Eve Anderson from the Emergency Team had first phoned and then arranged to visit today. I met with her and a couple of the other adults over lunch. She wanted to help us set up the school in a more organised manner as a place which could provide support to the local community in the form of food and medical care, whilst still educating the kids. Eve was so understanding about what we had been through and didn't push anything upon us but the ideas were so close to what we had already agreed that there was no objection.
Eve then spoke to the circle and explained to everyone how they all had a role to play in helping eachother anf their community. The kids wanted to talk with here for ages and were so excited that what we had set up by ourselves could now make difference to so many more people.
Eve's coming back tomorrow with some people from Health and Social Services to help us set up our Centre. In many ways her intervention has come at just the right time - the burden on me has lifted just be feeling that there's something else out there to which we are connected. I think I'd been kidding myself that we could do everything by ourselves - despite the attractiveness of doing our own thing.
Wednesday 6 February 2008
Ashamed
I woke up yesterday morning and couldn't move. My legs were heavy, I could hardly lift my head off the pillow and I seemed detached from my body. I was so bad that I wondered if "it" had returned again - but this was different. I knew what I wanted to do but my body woudn't respond. I stayed in bed all day, which meant that the kids had to stay at home with me.
Lying in my room staring at the ceiling I started to realise what had happened - it was as if I'd fallen into a black hole. Kirsty's death, my own illness, Graham, the kids and my blind desire to return to work had all combined to overwhelm me. Looking back I began to see just how selfish I'd really been. The problem stemmed from the fact that I read my blog from start to finish for the first time last night. It was like living through it all again but remaining conscious throughout. I think I've been sleepwalking for the last month - acting but not thinking. How could I have left the kids and gone back to work? How did I think a chat the evening Graham died would have possibly seen the kids through the trauma. I'd kept excusing myself that everyone was going through the same thing but I was wrong - we all confronting our own unique experience - the fact that lots of people were having similar experiences did not make it the same.
I'd phoned Alison in a panic and she had managed to calm me down - we spoke about the school split and how I had acted in such a manic way, I'd never even considered how frightened the rest of the teachers were - I had only looked at everything from my own point of view. Thank God for friends. I feel so ashamed - me - the counsellor, the conciliator, the mediator - the person who could be relied upon to find a solution ,to have empathy, to care, to love - all a sham, a fake, a falsehood.
I couldn't go in again today but at least the kids went in with Jennifer. She's just left the house after having brought them home. She brought the best wishes from everyone at the school and told me there was no rush to come back.
Can I go back?
Lying in my room staring at the ceiling I started to realise what had happened - it was as if I'd fallen into a black hole. Kirsty's death, my own illness, Graham, the kids and my blind desire to return to work had all combined to overwhelm me. Looking back I began to see just how selfish I'd really been. The problem stemmed from the fact that I read my blog from start to finish for the first time last night. It was like living through it all again but remaining conscious throughout. I think I've been sleepwalking for the last month - acting but not thinking. How could I have left the kids and gone back to work? How did I think a chat the evening Graham died would have possibly seen the kids through the trauma. I'd kept excusing myself that everyone was going through the same thing but I was wrong - we all confronting our own unique experience - the fact that lots of people were having similar experiences did not make it the same.
I'd phoned Alison in a panic and she had managed to calm me down - we spoke about the school split and how I had acted in such a manic way, I'd never even considered how frightened the rest of the teachers were - I had only looked at everything from my own point of view. Thank God for friends. I feel so ashamed - me - the counsellor, the conciliator, the mediator - the person who could be relied upon to find a solution ,to have empathy, to care, to love - all a sham, a fake, a falsehood.
I couldn't go in again today but at least the kids went in with Jennifer. She's just left the house after having brought them home. She brought the best wishes from everyone at the school and told me there was no rush to come back.
Can I go back?
Monday 4 February 2008
An end to passivity
Most of today has been taken up with a discussion about our school. It started off at our circle meeting - which is becoming quite big circle, when Johnnie - one of the older kids asked if he would be sitting his Highers in May. It was a strange request - none of us have really given this any thought as we have been too busy focussing on the welfare of the kids and ourselves. Yet even the younger ones started to ask about the various subjects they had been taking and wanted to take in the future.
This led us into a long discussion about the need for qualifications. It was Johnnie himself who asked, "I needed four "Bs" to get into university - but do I still need them? Will there be universities? Will there be enough of us to go to university?" Everyone - even some of the youngest - wanted to chip in. It was on the verge of breaking down when I suggested we take this to our families and consider three questions:
This led us into a long discussion about the need for qualifications. It was Johnnie himself who asked, "I needed four "Bs" to get into university - but do I still need them? Will there be universities? Will there be enough of us to go to university?" Everyone - even some of the youngest - wanted to chip in. It was on the verge of breaking down when I suggested we take this to our families and consider three questions:
1. How do we deliver subjects without teachers?
2. What will learners need to know and be able to do by the time they leave school?
3. Will we need qualifications if there are so few of us? - and if we do are they the same qualifications that we have always had?
As has become the routine one family was given responsibility for making lunch while the others went off to consider the questions. We gathered together in the afternoon and each family took it in turn to respond.
As we had guessed a lot of the groups went for using the internet to deliver subjects - with the kids being able to access learning at home as much as at school. They wanted their Family leader to take an interest in their learning and to guide them but they also wanted people to buddy up with a partner from another group for specific subjects. The big theme which emerged was the use of "experts" who weren't necessarily teachers but who tracked their progress or could give specific guidance on a subject of they got stuck. They also liked the idea of being able to use the skills thy've developed usaing Bebo etc to share their knowledge about learning - I was surprised (I know I shouldn't have been) that they were able to differentiate that they used Bebo for one reason but that they could switch - if necessary - to using it in quite a differerent format.
They were also insistent that they could teach each other - if they were helped by us to become teachers. They wanted to "pass on knowledge" - "just like a relay race" said Johnnie - who is rapidly becoming one of the stars of the school.
In response to the second question they thought there would still be a need for qualifications - "We need to know what people can do" but the qualifications they wanted were ones that would be recognised around the world. They had been corresponding with their peers from many coutries over the last few weeks and they now saw themselves to be part of much wider community than their city or their country - this awareness had quite passed me by in the maelstrom that had been my life.
They wanted access to a range of qualifications and courses - some of which might be Scottish but might just as easily come from India, Brazil or Australia. They wanted to pick what they did from a menu - and they wanted to choose the menu. One of the girls - Becky - launched into a full scale attack on the "menu" we had offered in our schools before. "So narrow!!" "So small minded!!" - we adults were almost enbarassed to admit our complicity in the system.
Our homework - and I stress our homework will be to come up with some suggestions and possible things that peple can do - regardless of age. There was also a strong feeling that we could set up our own courses or at least form partnerships with other schools who had started to set up in the city along similar lines.
The final point to emerge from our discussion was that they wanted school to be so much more than courses or subjects - there doesn't appear to be any going back on that now. They want to learn how to do things - to fix things - to make things -to work out how things work for themselves. They are living in chaos and they want to make it better - they will never be passive ever again!
Sunday 3 February 2008
Anger
There is a growing anger amongst the general public about the lack of any proper planning for this disaster. I bought a selection of newspapers this morning and although they were all limited editions the common feature was an attack on the Government and local authorities.
At the beginning of the outbreak the media were supportive and in what on reflection seemed akin to the WW2 propaganda they appealed for people to go to work and follow the public service announcements .
Yet as the weeks have passed it has become obvious that whatever plans were in place were totally inadequate. There seems to have been an assumption that the infection rate would be between 25-30% of the population over a six month period. In reality the infection rate has hit 50% in some areas. However, the most significant underestimates have been in relation to the mortality rates which were thought to be 30% at the worst - when it is currently hitting between 75-80% of those who fall ill.
It's this fearful mortality rate that is keeping people at home and bringing the country to its knees. In Edinburgh alone, out of a population of nearly 450,000, there have been nearly 200,000 reported cases (probably severely under-reported) with 145,000 deaths. The death toll in Scotland is approaching 1.75 million and the absence rate from work is running at 75% which includes those who have died; those who are ill; those who are caring for the sick, young or elderly; and those who are simply too scared to go to work.
A powerful example came from Edinburgh City Council where they bravely tried to maintain services - unfortunately the office conditions merely served to provide a breeding ground for the virus, which led to nearly 90% of staff who came into work falling ill. Learning about these figures it's no surprise that I haven't heard anything from the Education office.
There has been talk from the outset about two waves of "it" coming over a 16 week period. Almost all scenarios had been based on this assumption which would have spread out the impact on services, whereas it appears that it's hit us in an enormous wave - I think back to the image of the Tsunami I wrote about four weeks ago.
In effect that is exactly what we have been hit with, yet the Government continue to reject such a picture - they are issuing bulletin after bulletin proclaiming that we are gradually starting to manage the outbreak - LIES!! - and everyone knows it. Gordon Brown was on the News at lunchtime today saying that they could not have predicted the severity of the outbreak and that no scenarios took account of what we are experiencing - I did feel sorry for him (he's lost one of his sons who had cystic fibrosis) and his wife is in hospital - which in itself is aggravating many of the public who can't get such care for their family. He relied upon telling us that we were tackling this "shoulder-to-shoulder" with every other country and human being on the planet......I'm afraid I switched it off at that point. There comes a time when you only care for those you know - the fact that nearly a billion people have died already means nothing to me in comparison to losing Graham and Kirsty .... is that selfish?
At the beginning of the outbreak the media were supportive and in what on reflection seemed akin to the WW2 propaganda they appealed for people to go to work and follow the public service announcements .
Yet as the weeks have passed it has become obvious that whatever plans were in place were totally inadequate. There seems to have been an assumption that the infection rate would be between 25-30% of the population over a six month period. In reality the infection rate has hit 50% in some areas. However, the most significant underestimates have been in relation to the mortality rates which were thought to be 30% at the worst - when it is currently hitting between 75-80% of those who fall ill.
It's this fearful mortality rate that is keeping people at home and bringing the country to its knees. In Edinburgh alone, out of a population of nearly 450,000, there have been nearly 200,000 reported cases (probably severely under-reported) with 145,000 deaths. The death toll in Scotland is approaching 1.75 million and the absence rate from work is running at 75% which includes those who have died; those who are ill; those who are caring for the sick, young or elderly; and those who are simply too scared to go to work.
A powerful example came from Edinburgh City Council where they bravely tried to maintain services - unfortunately the office conditions merely served to provide a breeding ground for the virus, which led to nearly 90% of staff who came into work falling ill. Learning about these figures it's no surprise that I haven't heard anything from the Education office.
There has been talk from the outset about two waves of "it" coming over a 16 week period. Almost all scenarios had been based on this assumption which would have spread out the impact on services, whereas it appears that it's hit us in an enormous wave - I think back to the image of the Tsunami I wrote about four weeks ago.
In effect that is exactly what we have been hit with, yet the Government continue to reject such a picture - they are issuing bulletin after bulletin proclaiming that we are gradually starting to manage the outbreak - LIES!! - and everyone knows it. Gordon Brown was on the News at lunchtime today saying that they could not have predicted the severity of the outbreak and that no scenarios took account of what we are experiencing - I did feel sorry for him (he's lost one of his sons who had cystic fibrosis) and his wife is in hospital - which in itself is aggravating many of the public who can't get such care for their family. He relied upon telling us that we were tackling this "shoulder-to-shoulder" with every other country and human being on the planet......I'm afraid I switched it off at that point. There comes a time when you only care for those you know - the fact that nearly a billion people have died already means nothing to me in comparison to losing Graham and Kirsty .... is that selfish?
Saturday 2 February 2008
Mum
Jennifer called around today with a police car. She had offered to take me out to Balerno to visit my mum who I hadn't seen since this thing started, although I've phoned her at least twice a day.
Libby came with us and to say it was an emotional trip would be an understatement. Mum has never been over her doorstep since New Year. She has a fabulous neighbour who brings her shopping once a week and leaves it at her door. We were her first visitors but we kept our masks on and didn't touch her - which was remarkably difficult for us all (you realise in circumstances like this that physical contact can be so much more powerful than any words - particularly when that contact is prevented).
We talked for nearly three hours - about Kirsty and Graham and what we were doing at school. Mum had been a primary teacher in her time and had always loved to hear about what was happening at work. I was so pleased that she agreed with what we were doing and that she suppported me going back so early after Graham had died.
Mum is a stalwart of her local church and her faith had certainly helped to get her through this to date. She also had a large circle of friends but fear of visiting or going out had shut them off from each other. She had kept in touch via the phone but she described it being like "a tree losing it's leaves", as first one, and then another fell ill and died. Many of them had depended upon home visits and "Meals on Wheels" and these had stopped almost the moment "it" had broken out. The minister and some parishioners had tried to keep it going but he had died in the first fortnight and most of the others had either fallen ill or decided to lock themselves in their houses. Her circle had gradually declined until she was only really in contact with myself, one other friend and her neighbour - who never actually came into the house.
Eventually Jennifer knocked on the door and said she had to get the car back ot the station. To leave my Mum in that house without being able to hold or kiss her was one the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life.
When I got home I tried Graham's mum's residential home for what must have been the 100th time - my heart stopped when the phone was answered but it was only a recorded message telling me to phone a number at the local council. I tried this number but the reply said the office was closed and would be open on Monday. I think I know what's happened.
Libby came with us and to say it was an emotional trip would be an understatement. Mum has never been over her doorstep since New Year. She has a fabulous neighbour who brings her shopping once a week and leaves it at her door. We were her first visitors but we kept our masks on and didn't touch her - which was remarkably difficult for us all (you realise in circumstances like this that physical contact can be so much more powerful than any words - particularly when that contact is prevented).
We talked for nearly three hours - about Kirsty and Graham and what we were doing at school. Mum had been a primary teacher in her time and had always loved to hear about what was happening at work. I was so pleased that she agreed with what we were doing and that she suppported me going back so early after Graham had died.
Mum is a stalwart of her local church and her faith had certainly helped to get her through this to date. She also had a large circle of friends but fear of visiting or going out had shut them off from each other. She had kept in touch via the phone but she described it being like "a tree losing it's leaves", as first one, and then another fell ill and died. Many of them had depended upon home visits and "Meals on Wheels" and these had stopped almost the moment "it" had broken out. The minister and some parishioners had tried to keep it going but he had died in the first fortnight and most of the others had either fallen ill or decided to lock themselves in their houses. Her circle had gradually declined until she was only really in contact with myself, one other friend and her neighbour - who never actually came into the house.
Eventually Jennifer knocked on the door and said she had to get the car back ot the station. To leave my Mum in that house without being able to hold or kiss her was one the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life.
When I got home I tried Graham's mum's residential home for what must have been the 100th time - my heart stopped when the phone was answered but it was only a recorded message telling me to phone a number at the local council. I tried this number but the reply said the office was closed and would be open on Monday. I think I know what's happened.
Friday 1 February 2008
We step back - they step forward
David and Libby led this morning's circle. We welcomed 6 new family members - all children. The imbalance between children and adults is starting to give me some concern, yet it doesn't seem to make any difference to the kids. I've been trying to work out why that might be? The actual answer came as Libby said "We choose to be here" - it just screamed out at me. It's this choice that children are making that makes what we do now so different from what we were doing four weeks ago. This place has value, it has meaning, and they - the kids - believe in it.
If I imagine how we might have handled such a situation with a full complement of teachers and no-change to our system I think it would have been to call for even more help, more resources, more "things" - whereas the answer appears to be much more about finding the answer from within ourselves. This is not some philosphical debating point - it's what is actually happening. Because there so few of us we cannot smother, or control - we can only guide and provide some shape to what we all decide to do. The response from the children has been phenomenal - they appear to have grown in direct proportion to the space being provided - the more we have had to step back the more they have stepped forward.
It's this realisation that gives me confidence that we can build successfully upon our growing family - families within families - the secret is to listen - no, it's more than listening - it's remaining silent. It's the adult silence that provides the space.
If I imagine how we might have handled such a situation with a full complement of teachers and no-change to our system I think it would have been to call for even more help, more resources, more "things" - whereas the answer appears to be much more about finding the answer from within ourselves. This is not some philosphical debating point - it's what is actually happening. Because there so few of us we cannot smother, or control - we can only guide and provide some shape to what we all decide to do. The response from the children has been phenomenal - they appear to have grown in direct proportion to the space being provided - the more we have had to step back the more they have stepped forward.
It's this realisation that gives me confidence that we can build successfully upon our growing family - families within families - the secret is to listen - no, it's more than listening - it's remaining silent. It's the adult silence that provides the space.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)