Thingies that happen to Steve in his other job

[SteveHopwood]

More from yesterday. Gabby has hurtled skywards in my estimation. I looked seriously at learning her piece myself over the weekend. That troublesome left hand is really difficult to learn.

Not to play, for me, but to learn. The patterns are not natural. Gabby must have worked her socks off to learn it. As well as her LH being too low, I mentioned in passing last week, a couple of details that we, "Will correct soon." She asked what they were so I told her and they came back corrected this week. Normally stuff like that needs dinning into kids with a certain amount of force and allied threats of violence.

I am not paid for teaching Gabby. I started giving her lessons in the hope that I could help a little, and because I like her. I am being well rewarded for this.

Mind, she has gradually bought into the Mr Softie Steve thingy. These piano lessons usually take place during her 'business' class. 'Business' classes have enjoyed a variety of guises over the years; they were 'commerce' back in my day, about 1,000 years ago.

There is a pretty much unshakable unbreakable rule in life; we will only enjoy doing something that interests us. Business studies do not interest Gabby. Aged 13, taking this GCSE seemed like a good idea to her. Three years further on and the poor love would rather be a victim of me than attend her classes.

So, come the end of her session with me she asked, "Can I wait here until the end of the lesson?" She meant the school's period 5 lesson.

I asked, "What are you trying to avoid? Business studies?"

"Yes."

"But it is a GCSE class. I should send you back really."

Came the reply, "I know, but there is coursework due in today that I have not finished, and the teacher is really scary." Good for said teacher; I might try to get some tips.

Trouble is: I remember feeling the same 53 years ago - I bet a lot of us at SHF do; as with Amy a couple of years ago, there is no way of telling where she might go if I send her away. At least I know she is safe when she is with me. Plus, she is Amy's bestie so that wins her extra consideration.

So I let her stay. Gwenyth had wandered in during this conversation. Gwenyth continues to do brilliantly and make thrilling progress but it undoubtedly helps that piano lessons help get her out of PE lessons, which she hates. Something else that I deeply sympathise with but probably should not.

The original timetable had a gap after Gabby so I had filled it with an extra session with Gwenyth. I said to Gabby, "Gwenyth is missing as much of PE as she possibly can." Gabby immediately understood and the girls split the extra 20 minutes between them.

Miss bounced in towards the end of Gwenyth's lesson so I announced, "Gwenyth has done brilliantly again."

Miss enthused, "Wonderful. I knew she would. She is a star."

The National Grid burned brighter for a few minutes after that.

[SteveHopwood]

A lovely story from school today. I was doing a 'catch up' afternoon, and so was unfamiliar with the classes normally taught. One of them was the Y11 GCSE music group.

To back up a little, on leaving school last Thursday I was hailed by, "Hi Sir." We were all wearing masks, so I only just recognised Gabby. She was with a group of fellow students so we had a bit of banter. I failed to recognise that the girl immediately to Gabby's left was Amy. Apart from the general banter, I ignored Amy.

The brain is an astonishing thingy. It pointed out to me much later in the day that I had ignored Amy. I felt devastated. I would need to be blind before I would ignore Amy under any other circumstances.

Moving back to today and for unimportant reasons, I needed to consult Miss today. She had her Y11 GCSE music group. Amy was sat at a set of drums. I knew she was there; the entire school knows when she is sat at a set of drums. Charlie wasn't joking when he laconically described as her as, "Loud."

So I honed in on Amy and said, "Darling, I am soooooooo sorry that I ignored you outside school last week. I simply did not recognise you in your mask. Even so, I should have known it was you. I am really sorry. I would never deliberately ignore you. Ever."

The National Grid burned a bit lighter for a few hours after that.

Much later on and I spotted bestie and slave Gabby a few yards further towards the door so I asked, "Are you controlling you slave well?"

"Yes."

"Oy," came an aggrieved Gabby.

Gabby is coming to learn how much I treasure her. Even so, she likes reassurance. On my way past her she asked plaintively, "Would you ever deliberately ignore me?" <Not a hope. Not a chance. Ludicrous idea.>

"No darling. Never. Ever. Not a chance."

Then I noticed Billy, who I had inadvertently ignored and in whose trust I rely on totally. I pointed to him dismissively and announced, "Him I would ignore every single time." I left and was followed by, in quick succession by three different voices:

"Ha ha".

"Ha ha."

"Oy."

This fucking virus has severely restricted my contact with these wonderful kids for months. There is little chance of much more contact before they leave our school. I make the most of the brief contacts I have with them. I shall miss them when they leave.

Hey. WE HAVE A VACCINE. The end is in sight. Too late for this academic year, but it is in sight.

Imagine the party I am going to throw when we all finally return to normal. It will happen.

Mis and Head of Performing Arts were talking about a potential summer concert where all the kids who have missed out this year on all their opportunities to strut their stuff could get going again. They talked about the leavers from last summer who would have the opportunity to give their leaving performances instead this year - Georgi et al.

It has been a totally shit year but like everyone involved in educating our young, we are already starting to look to the future. Caring for the now and looking to the future is what we do, and it is a privilege to do so.

[SteveHopwood]

More stories from last week. I will have to tell them to you as they come back to me, so hectic was the week.

I pitched up on Thursday at midday for one of the many 'catch up' lessons for kids who were sent home earlier in the term. Peri organiser Miss P and I are determined that this will happen, despite the timetabling nightmares it causes. My timetable changes every week. The kids are getting quite good at keeping up with it.

Then, at 12.20 I was due to record a GCSE singing performance with Olivia. The school is lovely. It is only 15 years old from being newly built. There are spacious corridors and everything feels pleasant if I ignore the searing heat that the building usually generates and about which I whinge all the time.

One of the problems is that equipment that was state-of-the-art 15 years ago is starting to break down.

Like the recording equipment - remember the catastrophic start to "Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat" a few years ago? - and the equipment was a lot younger then.

Mr P always saw to the technical side of thingies. He is no longer with us, so Mr E has stepped in. Mr E is the school's percussion teacher and owns his own recording studio in which he makes professional recordings.

I pitched up to rehearse with Olivia to find that the recording equipment had broken down. Nothing he could do would work but he was not to be beaten. My time with Olivia passed and I went back to teaching with a call of, "Come and get me when you can use me."

There is a little room next to where Mr P used to teach that was originally kitted out as a recording studio. It is little used these days. In the end, Mr E managed to get a geriatric machine working but for reasons known only to him, had to remain in situ.

So Mr E and Miss dragged an electric piano out into the corridor and to within hailing distance of the microphones that could plug into said equipment. On my way to the photocopier, I heard Jeremy (aka Henry) rehearsing a beautiful performance of his guitar piece. He eventually managed a top-marks performance.

I little later I passed Gabby. This wonderful young lady had worked on every piece of info I had passed to her. There is a technique that works only at the very top of the instrument and which produces a wonderfully bright tone. Used lower down, it produces a harsh sound. I taught it to her last week. Her tone at the very top of the instrument was wonderful. I said so and said, "I am really proud of you sweetheart. Really, really proud." The National Grid did not need any fossil fuels for half an hour after that. Making a sensitive child feel good about herself is a fabulous aspect of my life.

Then come the end of the afternoon and LSS was finally back in school so we had two lessons in the afternoon and then stayed behind after school, as what will become 'usual' if she ever gets to spend a few consecutive weeks there.

I had Maltesers. I used to call them 'therapies'. Then one afternoon LSS's brain wasn't working well at the end of the day, so we started to call them 'brain food'. From there, it was a natural step to call them 'therapeutic brain food'.

Miss came to get me to try again with Olivia. We needed a couple of run throughs before doing a recording, then a couple of recordings. LSS decided to stay and practise, so I was gone for about half an hour.

When I returned I said to LSS, "Have a therapeutic brain food." "No thanks, " she replied, "I have eaten about 20 already." She took the rest of them with her after we finished.

[SteveHopwood]

Yesterday started and ended with Gwenyth. This young lady is rapidly turning into a star. I had arranged with her to arrive at school early so she could have an extra lesson. In my world, the likes of Gwenyth are few and far between. Intelligent. Enthusiastic. Persistent. Determined.

She seems undaunted by anything we do together. She is really good at spotting patterns - always a great trait when learning to play the piano. She has an extra, free lesson booked so far as I am concerned, into the foreseeable future.

G was also last but one victim this afternoon. My last one chickened out so I spent the time with G. This had two wonderful effects: I could teach her more; she avoided more of the PE lesson that she hates so much. We ended up spending an hour together. Time like this with pupils makes a colossal difference to progress.

G is shy. She is coming to trust me. At the end of our third session of the day and she was packing up I asked, "I can see you are not the most self confident girl in the world, yet you are clearly very bright. Are you an academic brainbox?"

Came the reply, "I am quite clever." That probably means, "I am the cleverest kid in the school but am too modest to say so."

------

In between was Little Sweetie Sarah. This should perhaps mean Bonkers Little Sweetie Sarah but the length of her name is starting to become silly.

Now here is the thingy. LSS's mum works at the school. I have given her a copy of the timetable twice. I have given LSS a copy of the timetable twice. Yet, within minutes of my arrival at school, mum turned up to ask what time LSS's lesson was as neither of them knew when it was and LSS was in a panic. LSS hates the possibility of upsetting anyone. Like she could ever upset me?

Mind, I can see where LSS gets her total lack of organisational skill from. Good thingy that mum, LSS and I are not called on to organise anything.

-----

Charlie came for his lesson and announced, "I have just been scorched." At least, that is what I thought he said. Appalled I demanded, "How? It must have hurt a lot."

Charlie looked mystified so I asked, "What did scorching involve."

His face cleared. He gave me that look and replied, "Searched, not scorched."

"What were you being searched for?"

"Suspected possession of a knife."

I boggled at him. A knife? Charlie? Ok, so perfect he ain't but to be suspected of carrying a knife? Not sure whether that is a more ludicrous idea than me telling LSS to go away and never darken my doorstep again but it is a close run thingy.

"Why?" I asked incredulously. "How could anyone suspect you of carrying a knife?"

"Probably because of the company I keep."

I can understand that. Aged 15 myself about 1,000 years ago, not many of my friends would have attended a vicar's tea party. "Find new friends," I growled.

[SteveHopwood]

Stories from my latest visit to school.

Errol was in again for recordings. One was a GCSE guitar performance; the other and huge was a recording for Ruth to send to the universities that she is applying to. There are none of the normal auditions so everything is being done online. These recordings were taking up space in both 146 and 149 so I had to start the afternoon in the Dungeon.

First on the list was Julia. I was waiting for her in the corridor prior to imprisoning her when Ruth wandered up for a chat. Julia came through the doors so I said to Ruth, "Here comes my first victim."

A shocked Ruth exclaimed, "You cannot call her a 'victim'."

"Yes I can. She does suffer from piano lessons with me, after all."

Julia chimed in with, "He threatens to stab me with the sharp end of his pencil."

"You cannot do that," complained a highly alarmed Ruth.

Said Julia, "He doesn't actually stab me. Mind, his pencils are scarily sharp."

We wandered off the the Dungeon. J sat down and said, "I haven't been in here for a long time."

"Me neither," I replied, "and I have not missed it."

"Me neither."

-----

146 became available after that, so I reclaimed it. Sadly, Ruth is a drummer. A very loud drummer. A very, very, loud drummer. Granted, there are two practise rooms in between 146 and 149 but they offered little protection from the eye-watering din emanating from 149.

There were several attempts to get a good recording before one finally arrived. This meant about 90 minutes of cataclysmically ear shattering din. I developed a mild headache by the time Ruth had finished. I could have throttled her quite cheerfully. The scarily sharp pencil would not have had a look in."

------

After a break for some lunch came Jasmine. 11 years old. Tiny. Cute as they come.

Searingly bright. She needs me to tell her little as she works stuff out for herself. I love watching clever kids working stuff out for themselves; it is one of the biggest joys in my life.

Bailey managed to get through a lesson without swearing.

-----

On Julia's return I thought about something she had told me last week. She had said that she is Polish, yet there is not a vestige of Eastern European in her accent so I asked her where she was born.

It turns out that she was born here and so strictly speaking, is English not Polish. I don't care. Aged 12, she can regard herself as either so far as I am concerned.

Her parents had emigrated here a year or so before Julia was born, so I would have expected some vestige of accent from her parents' homeland. I commented on this. J explained that her mum still has a slight Polish accent but that her dad is broad Yorkshire.

"And my sister speaks in this weird American accent."

I would love to hear this family all together.

Wondering if J speaks Polish, I asked, "Are you bilingual?"

"I speak English, Polish, French and German."

This came as no surprise to me whatsoever. Bright girl is our Julia.

[SteveHopwood]

I am coming to hate drummers. I was teaching Gabby this afternoon when bestie Amy appeared in the doorway announcing, "I am about to make a lot of noise." This blasted child needed to make a recording and she murders the drums.

I snarled, "I hate you and want you to die." Amy grinned hugely and bounced into the room. I have had few sightings of this wonderful young lady since the bloody pandemic kicked in. There will be few left before she leaves school this coming summer. I treasure every one that there is.

There was banter between Gabby and Amy, then Gabby asked of Amy, "Are you still grounded?"

I am not sure how universal is the term 'grounded' when applied to children. Here in the UK it means loss of some freedoms - usually freedom of association with their peers after school. They might have to go straight home from school. There may be restriction of internet rights. Parents all over the world reading this will have their own versions.

I asked, "Why are you grounded angel?"

Amy had the decency to shuffle around a bit and look slightly embarrassed before replying, "I got home drunk."

I know it is less than two years ago that I was allowing her to shelter with me to avoid going to a hated lesson with a loathed teacher because I preferred to have her where I could keep her safe but I could not let this latest episode pass without comment. Amy is 15.

"That is dreadful young lady. You should be ashamed of yourself."

A bit more shuffling and then, "Yes sir."

I left it at that. Amy has parents who love her as dearly as any child should be loved. I do not see her turning into a 'wild child'. Kids make mistakes.

She did not make as much noise as did Ruth last week, nor did she make it for so long. Relief.

[SteveHopwood]

The distance in time between my previous post and this one is down to the pandemic. School went back for one day in January, then was shut. It remains shut and I miss the kids desperately.

Life is no less crap here in the UK than it is anywhere else. School has been closed for weeks. One element I refused to give up on was teaching private pupils - not many these days so I am not turning into a super spreader.

An utterly charming incident from today. I am back to giving G his lesson on Saturday afternoons, so I am back to seeing beautiful village children as I drive from mine to his.

I drive very slowly through the back end of his village. There can be anything awaiting around the corners of the narrow lanes. Today, at the narrowest point, there were several adults escorting umpteen kids playing on scooters, all with several doggies in tow.

There was no safe way around them, so I leaned out of the window and called, "Come past me everyone. I will sit and wait."

They passed by me with a wonderful chorus of, "Thank you" and a forest of waving hands and wagging tails.

Fantastic.

I repeat. Never tried living in a tiny village? Give it a go. You will not be sorry unless there is something wrong with you.

[SteveHopwood]

I write this in the very early hours of Feb 22nd, 2021. In a few hours time our Prime Minister will be announcing our 'road map' out of our current lockdown.

There is not much that our England government has got right around the pandemic. It has usually been too little and too late.

Our government has got the vaccine rollout right. There are millions of vaccines going into peoples' arms every week. Aged 69, I am awaiting my callout daily from my local GP service. Should it become an issue for me then I can select a within 14 miles max vaccination service to drive to.

So far as I can see, the one good thingy to come out of the pandemic is this: understanding has grown that education is about more that cramming kids' heads full of maths and science facts and then testing the buggery out of them to prove that they have 'learned' said facts.

Teachers have known this since the dawn of time. If I had to sum up the value of educating children into a phrase it would be this: education broadens their minds.

And that is before we get into all the other stuff that teachers knew was vital for kids' development. Don't get me started; I would not stop for a long time.

On an aside, is it really a year ago that we were preparing for Blood Brothers?

We are all hoping for a reentry to school on the 8th March. There could be a mass lynching of all government misisters if not. Children have suffered massively during the last 12 months and we are not fans of torturing children here in the UK..

For myself, I am desperate to help Jasmine, Ethan, Louis-John, Bailey, julia,Sarah, Gabby, Charlie-whose-real-name-is-Sam and Gwenyth to do whatever it is they want to do. Miss and I already have plans for other kids.

Me and Miss are separated by 45 years in age. We are separated by nothing in terms of care for the kids that hove across out horizons. We will do our best for them, I promise.

[SteveHopwood]

Quick update folks.

School is beginning a 'phased' return on the 8th March - phased because kids have to be tested for the virus twice during the first week back. This is quite something given that there are c. 1,200 pupils in the school.

We peris are to start back on the 15th.

In the meantime, Miss has a little girl wanting to submit for a grade 2 singing exam.

The external exams board catering for amateur, and mostly young, performance exam candidates have developed a variety of methods of digital submissions of their performances. This little lady has a deadline for submission of the 10th and this is the first day on which she is first available to make the requisite recording.

So Miss, Little Girl and I have Wednesday the 10th to cram in what would otherwise be several rehearsals then drag a decent recording out of the chaos that is normal school life. At inappropriate moments in the progress of the recording will be: loud tannoy announcements; kids barging into the room having ignored the, "Exam in progress. Do not enter," notice printed in HUGE and blood red letters on the door; the normal panoply of school bells going off; anything else you can think of that will derail what was about to be finished as the perfect recording; the recording equipment failing at the equivalent point.

Can't wait.

[SteveHopwood]

I just spent a few happy minutes reading back some posts before the pandemic really hit hard. Go back to this post folks, viewtopic.php?p=169684#p169684, and note the last paragraph.

Oh boy but I am glad I did not break up the party. Fingers crossed for many more in the coming years. Our kids deserve them.