In a confused mood...

The past few days I've been in a confused mood. When I am feeling disgruntled with events in the local church, I go seeking reassurance elsewhere. I don't mean I try a bit of hinduism or wicca or even other churches; I seek to find solace in the greater Catholic church. That is possibly the worst thing you can do in these situations. In 2007 it should be easier than ever to sample the great expanse of Catholic wisdom with the plethora of bloggers out there. So, I'm like, looking for a Catholic blogger who might speak words of comfort to me. Believe me, I have trawled through tons of them in the past few days and it has, at best, been boring and, at worst, an alarming experience. I am sure these people cannot be reflective of the whole church. Where are all the reasonable Catholics? Catholicism may have more rules and regulations than all the other churches put together but we also have conscience. The trouble is that the reasonable Catholics have problems exercising that conscience for fear of the the fascists out there. We have a crisis in vocations at the moment so it is good to see, via the blog medium, that there are a number of young men who are willing to take up the baton and if they are not already in seminary, they are actively engaged in the discernment process. What is scary is the extremist nature in which they choose to express their faith through their blogs. Actually a lot of the more mature priest bloggers are no better. I shudder to think of the damage, actual and potential, which is being done to congregations in the western world. Is this the latest ploy to adjust the priest/lay person ratio? We are having no luck in the vocations department so let's decimate the church-going public. I feel very little of God's extravagent grace once it has been filtered through the medium of these men in black and the church's answer to the Hitler youth.

If you want to avoid fascist Catholic blogs (or find them, if you are a fascist Catholic!) a fairly good rule of thumb is to avoid anything with a Latin name. Other warning signs are ones which have cheesy representations of the Virgin Mary - you know the type. What is it about Roman Catholics? We have always championed art and creativity as a suitable way to glorify God and have a tremendous wealth of Christian art but we still prefer mass produced kitsch. The latest to take up residence in the Catholic psyche is the appalling 'Divine Mercy" image shown above. There are a few variations on this theme doing the rounds but this seems to be the VHS to the others' Betamax and Philips 2000, to use a technological analogy. It follows a basic specification revealed by God to St Faustina. Personally I can't stand the thing. There is something in the almond shaped eyes that reminds me of those grotesque Japanese animé characters.

I blame Mel Gibson for popularising a nostalgic image of the pre-Vatican 2 church. He should stick to acting.

The good thing is that I come out feeling the better the "devil" you know than the "devil" you don't. I'm quite lucky really - at least I don't encounter many fascists in my congregation.

Well waddya know?

Guess what? I'm in. I have been offered a place on the PGCE and I've accepted it. So just a few more months in my job now until I leave to go back to college.
So may I introduce you to my hand picked project team who will assist me in this next stage of my life. Meet Classy the Beanie Bear. She upholds all standards in teaching, professional and moral, and will work closely with me as my mentor next year (she may only be a soft toy but believe me she will prove to be an infinitely superior mentor to the one I had in my first teaching practice five years ago!) Classy was a gift to me from my nearest and dearest when I got on my last PGCE which, as you recall, ended up being an aborted mission. Shame-faced, I have had to pass her each day sitting on my shelf. At last Classy can once again take up her rightful place at the helm of the good ship 'Initial Teacher Training'. At Classy's right (as we look at her) you will see Alien. Alien was a great moral support to me last time round. As you can see, he is armed with a pink gun. He may look a bit camp but don't be deceived, he is the champion of behaviour management and will once again be acting as my guru in this particular area. He's never had to use that gun but...

Does anyone know where I might be able to pick up a Rainbow fish story sack...?

The Interview

Well I went for the interview. I was a bit apprehensive about the speaking Spanish, as I said in an earlier post. You know what it is like at these things.

"Yah, my name's Jocasta. I haven't spoken Spanish for ages - it's six months since I was travelling through Ecuador and Chile. Though I did spend two years working in an orphanage in Nicaragua - but that was back in 2003. Amazing!!"

With this in mind I did have three lessons with a lovely lady from Colombia - one of the major advantages of living in a multicultural society! Anyhow, having tackled a ton of mock interview questions and learned important vocabulary like didáctica, metodología and pedagógico the conversation consisted of little more than 'hello, how are you, where did you do your degree?' in Spanish, of course. It was a bit like speed dating as they raced to get through about 5 of us in half a minute.

The written test was a piece of cake.

Then we had to read a story, or at least a passage to a small group. This was the funny bit. The invitation letter had said that you could use visual aids but not OHP transparencies. I made a conscious effort not to go in for any gimmicry so just went with book in hand. Everyone else took it as read that visual aids were de rigeur and at the very least had a cardboard fish or a few bits of A4 to waft around at appropriate points. What did we do before clipart? One girl was obviously working as a classroom assistant and had clearly raided the resource cupboard before the interview because she brought 'a story sack' containing all manner of goodly things to make one boring story a cross-curricular fest to last at least two terms! The main item was, of course, the Literacy Hour big book "This is Rainbow fish. See how his scales shimmer as he moves through the water..." Yawn!!! There was even a glove puppet for Rainbow Fish. She had a lever arch file bursting under the strain of all of the lessons she had done with good old Rainbow Fish and his cronies! In years to come some kid will, no doubt, do Post-Doctoral research in Nuclear Physics in reference to Rainbow-bloody-Fish! I did wonder at one point whether I should have said, "Normally I use a ventriloquist's dummy called Kyle to present this story" but thought better of it. Best laugh of the day was the girl who arrived with a goat under her arm - not a real one, I hasten to add, but a large cardboard cut-out. I wondered if she had brought it on public transport and whether she would have to pay a fare for it! Utterly surreal.

The interview went oddly, really. There was I, prepared to talk about the Primary Languages Strategy, Accelerated Learning, Assessment for Learning, Every Child Matters and other such DFES goodies and they kept asking me crappy questions about working with other adults in the classroom. It was hard to try to get the conversation round to what I wanted to talk about. Ah well, in the words of Doris Day, que será, será.

Let's just play the waiting game now. I should know by Friday.

The yoof of today...?

What has been in the air the past couple of days? Working in an all boys school is lively at the best of times but since the beginning of the week something has gotten into them. At lesson changeover, it has been impossible to take more than 10 paces along the corridor without tripping over boys wrestling with each other. I have lost count of the number of seasoned teachers who have verbalised the desire to pack it all in and do something less stressful. The mess above was left in a classroom after lunchtime registration. Three tables were completely upturned. This was done by the Year 10 form, a largely pleasant and amiable bunch spoiled by a small group with mildly thuggish tendencies. Unable to find any pastoral staff at that moment (our school is quite big - roughly 1500) and with a class outside waiting to get started, I took this photo on my phone for evidence. This picture may surprise those who haven't been into a secondary school since their own school days, 20, 30 or perhaps even just 10 years ago. Is this an accurate reflection of schools/young people in the UK in 2007? I don't know, I have only this to go on. I know it stands in stark contrast to my own experience of school as a pupil in the 1970s. It is not uncommon for boys to drop litter on the floor and when challenged about it, say "No, that's what cleaners are for." It is even less unusual for the polite request of a teacher to be met with a blatant refusal. I remember hearing a supply teacher address the class she was taking (and she was a very good teacher) "I know I don't deserve your respect but I hope I can earn it". This differs somewhat from my own view. I have always felt that everyone I meet starts with a credit in the respect account. Whether that credit grows or diminishes depends on subsequent experience. The saddest thing is that my own reflections lead me to believe that my own generation is to blame, wanting to give our children the things that we never had and in so doing creating self-obssessed, shallow individuals who are oblivious to the fact that anything worth having is probably worth waiting for and that everybody should be valued irrespective of the role that they have in society. We seem to live in an age when nothing less than instant gratification will do.

I'm sorry if this sounds rather negative. Let me redress the balance somewhat. When you feel terribly let down by youngsters, it is usually -no, it is always their peers who redeem the situation. It's the chirpy little individual who doesn't know the value of his "hiya Miss". It is the vast, vast majority who, though some may need their rough edges smoothing out a bit, win the day and will grow up to be fine citizens. You always have to keep that basic fact in mind.

Happy 2007!!!

I wonder what this year will hold for us all. Well, surprise of surprises, I have been invited for an interview for the PGCE primary course on February 14th. That is great - at least if I bomb out at the interview I will know why. There is just the minor stumbling block of having to have part of the interview in Spanish. I haven't spoken Spanish properly since 2001 and I would never have classed myself as the super fluent type since I didn't take a year out in Spain when I did my degree. I did, however, spend 3 delightful weeks in Malaga staying with a lovely family and attending a language school each morning. The good news is that our German assistant in school is going to ask around her Hispanic friends to see if they will do some conversation practice with me. Meanwhile, I will be blasting my eardrums with Spanish via some of my old university tapes and any Spanish songs I can get my hands on. Not forgetting the old vocab cards and grammar exercises. Oh, the joys of the subjunctive voice!!

Apart from that things are a bit quiet.

Miscellaneous drivel...

Well the official notification from GTTR (the Graduate Teacher Training Registry) finally arrived on Monday. It has taken me until today to finally log on to track my application's progress. Last year I was checking every 5 minutes. Let's wait and see what happens. I'm a bit nervous since I have applied for Primary Education with a Spanish specialism and I think they get a native speaker to phone you up and speak to you in Spanish before inviting you to interview. My Spanish was never exactly brilliant but I would be hard pressed to hold a conversation in the present tense these days! Would you believe that they didn't do any such thing when I applied to do Secondary! So presumably it is OK to not be able to speak the lingo if you are hoping to teach it to A Level students but not if you are looking to teach little tots in Year 6! Of course, as I always say, you just sneeze and find yourself on a secondary PGCE course. I think these primary courses with a language are funded partly by European Union money so you have to do a month long placement in Spain and 'buddy' up with a Spanish trainee. I must admit, I don't relish the prospect of leaving the family behind for a month but if that is what's needed I'll just have to bite the bullet. Anyway, there's a long way to go before then.

At work, I am currently supervising the kids who are doing mock speaking exams as they prepare their role play. Several days of being cooped up in a small room with two lads (a different two every 10 minutes) and issuing instructions which are getting more like the air cabin crew safety instructions by the hour. There is the odd thing to break the monotony - such as the delightful little blighter who left his calling card in the room when he went off to his exam. It was the smell of pure fear, I think! What is it about teenage boys? Do they all have defective flatulence retention reflexes? And what on earth do they eat?

I've got this 'thing' on at church tomorrow. It's a poetry evening. People come along and read their own poems or their favourites and we try to get some musicians to do a little musical interlude now and again. I've done a little PowerPoint to some music and I am a bit anxious about it. PowerPoint never seems to run the same on different machines. They all run at different speeds and synchronising the words and pictures is a nightmare. I think I've sorted that now but we've only just acquired a projector. I don't know how to sort out the audio side of things so I am hoping someone will be able to link the thing up to an amplifier. I will have to take advice. Anyway, I've been out to buy the wine so the key is to get everyone at least mellow so that they won't even notice! (Is that ethical, in a church?)

Of course this Thursday is a lousy night for me to have to be involved in something like this. Given a choice I would have preferred Wednesday of next week. I will have to dash home at the end and sort out a bag of clothes. I am off to Newcastle straight from work on Friday to see my baby girl up in Newcastle. We're gonna have a girly weekend together. So that's something to look forward to.

C.

Divine Guidance needed...

A few years back I started a teacher training course. I just didn't feel at all comfortable with it and left. I was trying to teach French to teenagers, most of whom didn't have the slightest interest in learning it. The PGCE consists of hoop-jumping to the nth degree. Every lesson has to be planned to the minute with cross references to the many parts of the National Curriculum which have been addressed. Other boxes to be ticked include 'Spiritual, moral and cultural', 'Health & Safety', ICT amongst other things. Resources have to be created (these days a little worksheet doesn't seem to cut the mustard - it has to be at least PowerPoint but preferably something for the interactive whiteboard). But these have to have something to challenge, inspire and produce progress from everybody from Homer Simpson to Albert Einstein and everyone in between irrespective of their Aspergers, ADHD, Emotional and Behavioural problems or plain old disaffectedness. Or ordinariness, for that matter. Afterwards, for every lesson, you have to apply liberal amounts of sack cloth and ashes and get a big stick to beat yourself with. This is better known as the lesson evaluation. One night, gazing into the abyss and seeing what the rest of my life could consist of, I decided to throw in the towel.

Having now spent a few years in education in an administrative support role ('Remodelling the Workforce') I have had a chance to see at close quarters what teaching consists of and to get to grips with educational jargon. It is no longer alien to me. I have also seen that the Government's much vaunted 'career paths' for support staff in schools are not going to materialise - that would require money. I figured I was ready to have another go at the massive box ticking exercise that is teacher training. So, I decided to apply for a Primary PGCE place. In spite of many years of experience as a mum/helper with primary age children in a school setting (though my work experience is in a secondary setting) I was knocked back on not having enough up to date experience. It seems that in spite of claiming to encourage 'mature' adults to become teachers, they first have to renounce their right to a full-time, wage-earning job to do so (and, by extension, pension rights - a big ask if you want my opinion!). I am lucky in that my Headteacher was incredibly supportive and was at the time allowing me to take time out to spend time in local primaries. But as my experience was not there at the time of filling in the form, the teacher training college (they call themselves a university these days, but personally I'm not so sure!) didn't take it into consideration.

I had happily forgotten about it all until last week when the college sent me the feedback form from my last application. I already knew the reasons but this letter just unsettled me. I had decided to leave it alone. I don't know whether this is what God wants for me and no amount of prayer and asking the question seems to produce the answers I need. I have decided I will apply but if I get the knockback again, I know it is not meant for me.

Watch this space.

C

Desperately seeking me...

Just returned from Greenbelt and utterly inspired but not entirely sure what to do with all that inspiration. I wish I could know who I am. I don't seem to fit into any neat category. I'm really interested in all of the alternative worship stuff that is happening at the moment. The really interesting thing is that we in the Catholic church have always done the art and symbolism stuff but it is being rediscovered by the new movements who have their roots in the Protestant tradition (I'm sure they must be ostracised by the hardliners). Perhaps we can pick up on some of this to give our worship a new twist. Purely by chance I discovered a great blog by a guy called Jonny Baker who is involved with Grace (who were at Greenbelt), an emerging church in London. Also turns out he is heavily involved with the worship at Greenbelt. Also turns out he is married to one Jenny Baker who gave a talk on prayer at Spring Harvest when I was there a few years back (2002, I think). It was a double header with Pete Greig of 24-7 Prayer.

Sadly, though, being a Catholic does not give you much opporunity to use all this stuff. We just don't have that flexibility to muck about with the liturgy. Plus, we have to be careful of the 'thought police', that particular brand of sad wierdo who actually believes that God is interested in phariseeic (is that a word?) 'i' dotting and 't' crossing - and if they don't get any joy from God they will think nothing of escalating the matter to the Bishop or even the Holy Father himself! Surely it was for individuals such as these that the phrase 'Get a life!' was coined!

I'm thinking of approaching people in some of the other churches locally to see if we could do some non-denominational worship services which could incorporate some of this stuff. If only God will let me have an extra few hours in a day! I get what little energy that I have from my interactions with Christians from many different traditions. If I were to isolate myself in a Catholic bubble I would dry up spiritually. Keeping the lines of communication up with friends in other churches is my way of living out Christ's call to unity. I'm too dumb to understand the finer points of theology, but I do know that when we all work together, the vibe is great.

God Bless.

Just checkin' in...

Yeah, OK, so two thousand years later we actually bother to write something else. And it is a gripe.

What is it about all my mates in the other churches, that they decide to do something, anything, and it is all hands on deck, everyone buzzing round in a frenetic whirl of activity to get things done? They actually achieve things from time to time. It's like that idyllic scene in that Harrison Ford film, "Witness" when all the Amish people are working together in perfect harmony building the church. I have never experienced anything like that in the Catholic world. There is a handful of enthusiastic but overworked individuals trying to motivate everyone else but it is really like pulling teeth. And they seem to resent anyone but the privileged few trying to get anything off the ground. I reckon, per capita, that the Catholic population is the most lacklustre faith group in the world. At least today I do...

C.

In the beginning...

Hello!!!

I don't really know what to write here but I've no doubt that it will come to me in time. There are enough incidents/amusements/frustrations about being a Roman Catholic to keep me rolling along in posts 'til the second coming. Just look on this as a study to see how blogger works.

C.