Friends of School Days Past

I made my usual trip back home for Christmas to spend time with my family and friends. This Christmas was quieter than usual but that suited me, it gave me some quiet time for reflection on what can only be describe as a year of two halves. Lots of positive experiences with an equal amount of negative ones.

On one of my days back home, I had some paper work to file at Belfast City Hall. I put on the casual of casual clothes, more for the warmth than to make a fashion statement, considering the -6oC temp outside. I didn't put gel in my hair as it would've been frozen before I got to the car. Though I do remember days when frozen gel was a regular occurrence as I wouldn't go to school without it. I hadn't shaved, had cheap fake ugg boots on hidden under my jeans. Lets just say i was looking a bit rough!

On walking towards City Hall the one thing that I was dreading started to walk towards me. It was an old school friend. My brain went into over load, turn the corner, put your head down & walk on by, look into the shop window, ignore, ignore, ignore. My conscience quickly got the better of me and I waved from a distance and as he approached both our face lit up and we greeted each other with a proper Belfast "Well, whataboutye?" This followed by a good twenty minute conversation about how our lives have changed since school and what we are up to now. We said our goodbyes and I walked with a new spring in my step, having been uplifted by our conversation and relieved that he clearly didn't give a shit what I looked like but was genuinely pleased to see me.

Fast forward 90 minutes, leaving City Hall, walking towards car I seen another old school friend walking towards me! "Of all days that I don't want to meet anyone, here comes another" I thought. Feeling uplifted by my earlier chat I walked confidently in the direction of the on-coming old friend only to be shot down by the "head to the ground and pretend you don't see him stance" So we past each other totally ignoring the 7 years that we spent in school together, probably wondering what each other was up too and feeling totally embarrassed by how he dealt with a ghost of school days past.

So, the next time you get the urge to put your head down and ignore the oncoming friend fight against it and lift your head up, smile and say "Well, whataboutye?" in the strongest Belfast accent you can muster!

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After thought, maybe he was ashamed to talk to someone with fake Pennys ugg boots on or didn't recognise me without gel in my hair but hey my feet were definitely warm and my head wasn't frozen!

Terrible Teachers

I've been blogging now for just over two weeks and I must say, I've been really enjoying it. 'Why didn't I listen to all those people who told me to start blogging years ago?'

Books were always part of our household, my Mummys husband is an avid reader. I've seen him read four / five books in one week. He told me he could speed read, I just thought, 'showoff'! My granny always had a book in her hand, usually something by Catherine Cookson or the St Martin magazine! I was always buying books from the school book club or getting them out from the library, wherever you turned in our house there was a book.

I was never a straight A student, more middle of the road until about the age of 14. I'd put this down to many things but that's a whole other blog. Anyway, during my secondary school days I had an English teacher by the name of Mr Brannigan, I'm sure he's dead now but maybe not. He had aged before his time, the wrinkles on his face told a story of one too many students, and his hair was well, non existent, apart from the few strands he grew so he could have a brush over. His most defining characteristic however was his attitude or perhaps lack of personality, it had kind of flat lined at some point and none of his good friends (assuming he had some) had decided to tell him.

The flat lining of Mr Brannigan has had repercussions that I'm sure have stretched far and wide beyond his classroom. Mr Brannigan didn't give us the basics of English, but what he did give us was lots and lots of book reviews. That was our weekly task, read a book, review it, read a book, review it, read a book, review it, for the guts of three years. I did read some fantastic books during that period, Brendan Beehans Borstel Boy, The Lion, Witch and The Wardrobe, and many others that I can't quiet think off at the minute. If you were lazy and didn't want to read a book he was more than satisfied if you handed him in the synopsis printed on the back of a book rewritten. What he didn't do was teach us the basics of English, comas, nouns, pro-nouns, adjectives, etc. I distinctly recall learning paragraphs however.

I was fast approaching 14 and entering 4th year, getting reading to study for my GCSE's in 2 years time, when it was announced to us that we'd be getting a new English teacher, Mr O'Doherty. I was delighted, over the moon, excited, as O'Doc, was the coolest teacher in the entire school. He dressed with a flair of style, was always tanned, had highlights in his hair and best of all, you could smell him coming before you seen him for he used Jazz aftershave like water.

It only took O'Doc a week to discover that our entire class had very little basic skills with the written word and I mean basic. We even seen the shock in his face when we didn't know the difference between there and their. I bet he initially thought it was just the odd one or two students but he was soon to realise that it was the entire class. The whole class seemed to let out a sigh of relief when this dawned on him, thank god it wasn't us, we knew Brannigan wasn't interested all along. He went straight back to basics and for the next two years gave us a crash course in English along with sticking to the curriculum to ensure we passed our exams.

The lack of enthusiasm Mr Brannigan showed in his class has lived with me to this very day. He didn't inspire me, didn't encourage me to ask questions, and simply didn't appear to care. I lack confidence in writing but I do enjoy story telling kind off a catch 22 situation there or is that their. (Only kidding) I just wish that Mr Brannigan realised he was in a rut and done something about it. What he has taught me though is that no matter what, you can do whatever you want by just putting your mind to it, accepting your mistakes, learning from them and moving on.

So three cheers to the written word, the hard work of O'Doc and one in the memory of Mr Brannigan, for I'm sure he did inspire many students before he became worn out.