Twitter Fighting

“Wait.” I said to the boy, “Let Doc have a sniff.”

Doc sniffed the dried dog urine patterns on the wall, aligned himself and left his mark. I explained that he was leaving a message for the other dogs, “A bit like Twitter?” the boy said. Yes a bit like Twitter. I love Twitter.

I’m not saying that it’s like trails of dried dog urine on a wall, though when it comes to things like #FeministsAreUgly there is a case to be made for the analogy. Having read the comments @CCridoPerez has to deal with dried dog piss might be appropriate after all.

Never the less, Twitter is better than the news, if it’s not hash-tagged it’s not happening. Without Twitter I wouldn't have known about the Baltimore riots, I wouldn't have known about the #WorstCrisisSinceTheAbdication” which for one tweeter was akin to using semi skimmed milk instead of full fat.

What I like best is that twitter allows people to openly fight, not just one another, but the system, it allows them to spray these virtual walls with neon signs screaming to be heard.

Here there might be a big society, individuals determined; for example not to let go of the Grenville Janner injustice. I've seen those individuals work relentlessly to raise awareness of this situation. I've discovered investigative journalism that cuts and picks through the mindless dross and presents hard facts. I've read the pain in Black Lives Matter and I have seen people fighting for what they belief in.

http://www.exaronews.com

Some people are fighting for justice and an end to the killing. Some are fighting for truth, pulling the curtain from cover ups: revealing the detail and yelling to be heard. Some tweeters are fighting depression, some are fighting for our vote, others to find work, to promote their books, to get somewhere to be someone, to do feminism properly.

And we group together with a little press of the follow button. Then you realize you are part of a community, you are communicating with others that enrich your life through their knowledge, their passion and their sharing, and in unity there is power.

So many of us fight alone, we’re not comparing scars here, but it’s hard alone, just battling to keep your head above water, to put food on the table, to apply for another job, to get through the day.

Last week I responded to a facebook group seeking donations, a local mum was moving out of a hostel and into a flat with her little boy. I was genuinely excited that I might be able to help. I sorted through my boys clothes, we pulled bags of toys from the attic, we eagerly awaited her message. As did so many others, I was astonished how many people were happy to give, no questions, no judgements, no asking for sponsorship or recognition, not even on the condition that we read a leaflet, just helping.

The internet, our internet is pulling down boundaries, letting us scream and it’s listening, listening and responding. I love it.

Some of the fighters:

@absurdistwords

@andrewspoooner

@discovery77_

@realperidot54 

In Preparation

I used to get ready for things. I used to get things ready, for example “Joanne is your homework ready for tomorrow?” Mum used to get things ready for us Dad used to get his things ready, his scarf and gloves would be laid on the radiator ready.

The best sort of ready would be getting ready to go out. This would involve a friend, loud music, fags, excessive makeup, the trying on of several outfits, some posing and great hilarity.

Until recently preparation was something you did to food and woodwork. Then people started using phrases like “Fail to Prepare: Prepare to Fail.” Kids started preparing for exams, job applicants for interviews and I found myself in a situation where I had to prepare for lessons. I couldn't even pretend to prepare because my preparation had to be documented in order that I prepare for observation.

I did once try and work on this surface!

At what stage do you actually move on from preparing, planning, getting ready and do the thing? What about the artists muse? Does anyone wake up from a dream, rush to the pen and paper and just write or do we now flick the switch on, boot the computer up and wait while windows prepare the desktop?

Many times I have been caught with an idea. I have allowed it to mature and evolve during my working day; I've caught the bus home with a fully formed idea ready to be spilled onto the page only to have every day preparation get in the way.

Maybe I’m not a real creative. An artist would be oblivious to the pile of the dishes or some dog piddle in the hallway. A writer would understand that everyone in the house hold knows how to make toast and not worry about dinner. They would just do it.

This weekend I was determined to work on my crafting; on flutterjos. So much so that I prepared and Friday nights kitchen was immaculate. Unfortunately the Saturday morning kitchen not so, and I was a little delayed. Never the less I managed to spend most of the day pattern cutting, colour choosing and embroidering.  

I wanted to do more on Sunday, but I needed to prepare for the coming week. As I’m not the only member in the house hold I made a list of chores for all three of us and then set about getting them completed as quickly as possible. I’m not going to bore you with the woes of ironing, washing, hovering and floor cleaning,  but by eight O’clock Sunday evening when I finally sat down with my sewing paraphernalia I was physically shaking. It took a glass of wine before I was calm enough to thread a needle.

So from now on I am going to try and go with my creative side, I’m going to focus on doing the thing rather than preparing to do the thing. I just hope I’m prepared for the challenge.

Pets as Persons

We buried Chubs this weekend, and the boy cried. Chubs was a lovely little thing, he had bright sparkly black eyes, a chocolate brown coat and a creamy belly. Above all though, Chubs had personality.

RIP Chubs (fancy mouse)
Oct 2013-April 2015

He was, true to his name a rather rotund mouse, who would come down from his bedroom; a large sphere at the top of his house, carpeted with sawdust and soft paper like bedding and he would select a tasty morsel (he had a particular liking for dried sweet-corn), he would clamber into his wheel and sway. Yes, Chubs swayed, he used that wheel like a swing, or even a rocking chair for mice. He very rarely ran about in it, just swayed, chilled out and munched. One time Chubs escaped, and discovered (I guess to his delight) a large bag of that soft paper bedding and so Chubs climbed in. We found him there, stretched out, lounging in a giant mouse bed.

If you put your hand in the mouse house, Chubs would come to see you; he was a friendly mouse and will be sorely missed. OK so I have just described the characteristics of a mouse, Chubs simply displayed mouse behavior right? How can it be then that Allogop same age, same species, though with golden fur and red eyes is such a different character?

I didn't think mice had characters either, yet Allogop, does not sleep in the master bedroom, he drags all the bedding into a much smaller sphere. He is not as friendly as Chubs was; he is a suspicious mouse. Put your hand into his house and he hides. He’ll take a few twitchy steps forward then back away. Unlike Chubs, Allogop lives for the wheel, every night; hour after hour he is sprinting on that thing. Allogop is a lithe mouse he is in training. I get the feeling Allogop has a plan. Who knows what it would be?

I just anthropomorphised  the animals, because that’s what they are; just animals. Not dogs though (or cats so they tell me.)

Doc: Westie-Lakeland-JackRussell Cross aged 11

Everyone knows that dogs have personality; because we give them personalities. No. Not the case. Doc (our eldest dog) had personality when he arrived. When he was a tiny pup he sat in his bed, on his hot water bottle and growled at me. He is still grumpy now, and yet ever so childish. Doc is somewhat like a spoilt toddler.

Charlie our youngest is the baby of the family. He is not only physically tiny, but quick to excite, curious, interested and yet exceptionally gentle, especially considering that he is a Jack Russell.

Charlie 8 month Jack Russell

Doc and Charlie were not purchased as look outs or protectors, or even as good rabbiters. They were purchased as companions, as friends and they do their jobs perfectly. They make us smile, they bring us together, and they get us out on walks. They are members of our family and when they go where the good doggies go, well then I’m sure my heart will break.

Easter Intollerance

I have long preferred Easter to Christmas, the weather is much better and the cost of it doesn't fill me with dread. And I love the holiday. By this time in the academic year I feel I really need it, not so much to recover, but to have some space to myself.

So since last week’s cleaning itch; I have finished chapter nine (horary), painted my eggs, made my winter wreath into a spring wreath, written two poems and three short stories.  I now have four days of my Easter holiday remaining and work is creeping back in. Since Good Friday I have become increasingly aware that I have a stack of essays to mark, lessons to prepare and a load of documents to standardize. 

I have also found myself reading the Education section of the BBC News again!

In an article entitled Teachers 'fear extremism debates in class' I finally accessed a definition of British Values.
 

"Teaching about the fundamental British values of democracy, the rule of law, individual liberty and tolerance and respect for others is part of our promotion of British values and is at the heart of what every school has to deliver for children.”

 

Unfortunately I happen to have a problem with British democracy; especially the bit where we have political parties to vote for but as they keep telling me, the choice is between Cameron or Milliband.

I get the rule of law, though it seems to me that in order to have the law on your side you need legal representation and is not always easy to come by.

I’m all for individual liberty but I have problems when one individuals liberty impinges on mine, for example that house across the road that had radio one blaring at 7.45 this morning and woke me up, on my lie in. I also have a problem with that woman who spent this afternoon screaming and shouting at her kids. Oh and the people somewhere out of sight who were having an almighty row.

I fear I might actually be intolerant.  I was going to make a list of all the things I couldn't tolerate, but ultimately it boiled down to one thing: Laziness.

We all get tired sometimes, we get worn down and we make the sort of mistakes that lazy people might make. There is no point ever in telling someone they are just being lazy, that won’t help.

As a teacher I have learned a few things and one of them is that the best way to teach is to let students make mistakes, but to lead by example.

So if they insist that I embed the virtues of British democracy into my curriculum which is about video games, then they had better provide me with a democracy that works for all of us, likewise pass laws that don’t advantage some and disadvantage others.

Tolerance and respect? Look closer to home and lead by example, because anything less would simply be lazy.