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MY TEACHING JOURNEY

Enjoy your break!

Years ago, I was a tutor in a university students’ hall of residence. The warden and his wife discovered that she was pregnant for the second time. Something I knew she was pleased to be. So, I congratulated him. He paused for a moment and then pointed out that I was making a big assumption that HE was pleased. Whether he was or was not, it was a huge lesson to me about making assumptions.

We all do, of course, and I am not convinced that I learnt the lesson fully, but wherever possible, I do try to find out what someone else’s perspective is about something before offering mine. There are exceptions.

I bite my tongue when people tell me that they have another child on the way (yes, it’s about pregnancy again, but the point is that since the seventies, we have known that the planet Earth was struggling to sustain its population (Goldsmith et al., 1972) and today, estimates are that we have as much as 1.7 times the population that Earth can reasonably support. That we now spend more on trying to have babies in the UK than on birth control scares me. Annually, an estimated £68m is spent on in vitro fertilisation (IVF) alone by the NHS, at the same time roughly £79m is spent on family planning prescribing. It seems likely that the two are the same. Getting pregnant and having children is not a right; it is a privilege. Having one is an indulgence; having more is what the economist, Adam Smith, called ‘self-interest’. Psychologists refer to this behaviour as ‘egoism’.

I generally tell people who ask if I am going to do anything special for Christmas, that I’m an atheist. Personally, I regard anyone who believes in unsubstantiated fairy tales as delusional.

Similarly, when asked if I eat meat, I explain that I am almost entirely vegetarian leaning towards veganism. Why? For similar reasons, we know that one of the largest contributions to the climate crisis is the world’s dependence on cattle, chickens, pigs and sheep. Similarly, there wouldn’t be food shortages anywhere in the world if we all switched to a plant-based diet. Above all, though, I choose to eat plant-based food because of the appalling conditions in which animals are ‘farmed’ and slaughtered.

We live within earshot of a playing field and our peace is regularly disturbed by ‘pugulists’ getting rid of their aggression on a small spherical object. It’s quite widely accepted by sociologists that football is a means of social control, adopted in the 1800s as a way of controlling male workers aggression on Sundays. Ever since, periods of social unrest have been swiftly followed by controversy within football. I’m sure that they enjoy the pasttime, but I am saddened that they are so easily manipulated.

So what about the students who seem to think that the world revolves around them and that just because their term has finished and won’t restart until September this means that their tutors have also been enjoying a ‘break’? Well, we don’t. Most tutors earn far less than students realise. In my field (counselling and psychotherapy) we are preparing them for a career where they will typically charge more than double what we earn per hour. We don’t really do ‘breaks’ as it’s the busiest time of year for most tutors, we will be handling recruitment, enrolment and clearing (along with all the queries that come up during that time), course design, updating materials etc, migrating VLE resources to new courses, and marking the various portfolios and similar reports delivered by these students after the term finishes and for which they expect the results within days. As we earn very little (the pay rate hasn’t increased in over a decade due to the Tory government), some of us will be teaching elsewhere, and besides all this the summer is pretty much the only time we have left for research, which we are expected to do (to provide enriching teaching) but are not paid to do! So, yes, most of us get a week or so away but it isn’t the great six-week vacation that most students seem to expect.

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Synchronicity

It was Carl Jung who first coined the term, ‘synchronicity’ to describe meaningful coincidences in our lives.

Many years ago, I took a group of students to the Isle of Wight collecting specimens. As I reversed the university’s minibus on a forest trail miles from any road, it fell over a concrete lip so that one of the rear wheels was suspended over a deep ditch. We piled out and some of the students tried valiantly to prop it up. It was a hopeless task, and I began to contemplate a long hike to a telephone (this was pre-mobiles), knowing that the AA would not help as we were on private land. At that moment, over the brow of the hill came the Weston-Super-Mare Tug of War team on a ‘training camp’ for the weekend. Minutes later, they had lifted the minibus and put it back on the track. This is, to me, an example of synchronicity.

If you believe in a supernatural being, then they were surely looking over us that afternoon.

Not all coincidences have such a practical bent. Some are described by believers in a ‘universe’, as providing a nod in our direction when we are making significant changes in our lives. They represent, such folk say, a gentle endorsement (or the opposite) for our course of action.

This week, I am in transition. I left one job (on the 1st) and am about to start another (on the 4th). The one I am leaving was something I enjoyed enormously but I had become concerned that the organisation was not aligned to my personal values. I don’t know if the new one will be any better, but it felt right to move on.

Yesterday, the 3rd of May, would have been my mother’s 93rd birthday. She died 9 years ago, just a couple of months after I had started the job that I am now leaving. Her first name was Betty – not short for Elisabeth, which caused some trouble for her at school where they wanted her to conform to their own expectations of children’s names!

In the afternoon, we went for a walk along the towpath of the Oxford Canal which runs close to home. While there are some boats that moor up permanently or, at least, for prolonged periods, there are others that pass through stopping only for an evening before continuing their journey. One such boat, heading south tonight, had chosen an idyllic spot and the solo female navigator had popped her deckchair on a concrete platform overlooking the adjacent River Cherwell and was making a roll-up, chatting on her tablet, and enjoying the setting sun over the valley.

It’s hard to see on this photograph, but the boat’s name was… Betty.