Encounter in the Sandwich Shop

'That's 3 euro, luv,' says the shoplady as she scans my sandwich and bottled water. I pay quickly, and wait for my change. The customer behind me is a school-uniformed 2nd year, with a dnagerously cheeky face.
'So miss, what do you think of our school?'
I turn in surprise at this unexpected friendliness.
'Ah its lovely now, so it is...'
'Have you looked me up on Facebook?' The question leaves me reeling in shock.
'Excuse me...do I know you? Anyway, what do you think I am?'
He smiles as he pays for his lunch and says, 'You know well who I am.'
'Actually I don't,' I reply, feeling that somehow this conversation is not one a would-be teacher should be engaging in, but fascinated nevertheless.
'Sure, aren't we all ye teachers talk about in that staffroom anyway? Chattering on the whole time about us all...'
We head out of the shop, and I reply, laughing at this stage, 'Well, my friend, I wouldn't be adding you on FB anyway. In the first place, I don't have FB, and secondly, I'm a teacher, remember...'
We part at the door, as he joins his cronies, and I make my way back to school. I've learned two things at least - 1) don't go to the local sandwich shop at lunchtime, and 2) all the teachers talk about in the staffroom is the pupils...
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Thinking about one's own power can make one almost giddy-headed, you know. Every single person has some kind of influence; if only each individual on humankind realised that and utilised that realization positively, what a change would be made.

But that influence is even stronger when you are a teacher. I see that more and more, as I teach and as I learn. One part of me exults in it and I think of the malleable souls who come into my classroom for a couple of hours each week, eager to experience something new, eager to see something different happen, eager to discover another part of themselves in this era called adolescence. And I want to get to know each one of them, know their names, appeal to their strengths, and bring out the even greater strengths that hide behind bravado and loudness.

And therefore, to hear a child being meanly dissected about in the staffroom bothers me. To be told in low undertones that such a child has been a trouble-maker all his/her life bothers me. To meet a bright, smart young lad at lunch-time in the local sandwich store who assures me that all 'ye teachers do in the staffroom is gossip about us' bothers me. A situation where such things are known and regarded as the norm will never become the ideal community of teachers and pupils where both are partners in the process of learning.

That's one of the places where Irish education is failing. A wide chasm exists between the learned and the learners, the educators and those being educated; this chasm will hinder learning and make school a place to be endured. Communication lines are nonexistent - students rightly feel that they are not being treated as individuals, that no-one really cares about them personally. The feelings of isolation established here will affect future perceptions of necessary insitutions and authorities, and will lead to crises in Irish society.

December Blues

Its that time of the year again. Unfortunately it seems to mirror itself in me...my stupid feelings. Maybe Accai berries might help:)

First the country was ripped apart by the news that we had to be bailed out. Okay we knew we were in trouble...this recession was lasting way too long. But did Cowen and Co., the democratic leaders of a supposedly democratic country, share with their long-suffering people the real nature of the problem? Oh no. Instead they denied that a bailout was even going to happen; a couple of days later when the news exploded on TV screens and Twitter, one got the feeling that Irish people were supposed to believe that Bailout Package was a bit like a Christmas present - received with excitement, carefully unwrapped, a wonderfully successful surprise.

Ireland is the laughing-stock of the....world, right now. But do you know what? THEY don't seem to realise. How alarming. They smile and simper and beam and shake hands and are grateful for any word (positive or negative) from her Holiness Merkel. And at the same time, German domination slowly seeps into Irish society, manifesting itself in curious ways like wooden huts in Eyre Square where big-bellied country men dressed inappropriately in Lederhosen and Trachtl brave the icy Atlantic cold to sit on benches outside Galway's version of OKtoberfest - except here there's only one tent and its not in October but December.

There are also the mysterious notices stuck to Pennys windows, notifying the general public of job opportunities in Primark stores in Frankfurt. Sure its only a 6 euro Ryanair flight away...Who wants to be in Ireland anyway?

But anyway, now there's the BIg Freeze. So much fun. So convenient. Only thing is, the country's losing money by the million euro. For some reason I've got the 1918 Lockout in my head and the dramatic and patriotic actions of that wonderful character Jim Larkin.

I wonder who the Jim Larkin of 2010 is going to be?