I hear the alarm, and start to extract myself from dreamt scenarios,
wash off the clinging images, oats down my throat, notes into file, into pannier, arms into hi-vis and bike out of door, down the road and
up the hill, lock it up, roll down trousers, wipe off sweat and into staffroom.
Eight timetabled hours and two more,
then I’m coming home past Queen’s Hostel again.
I push aside a stack of undistributed No Borders zines to shelve my ringbinder.
As I check my email media laments that a ship has sunk off Lampadusa, as if it is news.
The thought rises up of my gentle friend
who cooked rice, who rode a cement mixer in silence, who let his companion make the boat, whose head is scarred by an interrogator, who shrugged at the wait for his papers and his roommate’s nightly phonecalls,
and each time I clamp it down before it opens the floodgates.
And I strengthen my doors, to focus on this one thing.
But dammed up and directed the pressure inside me makes me immobile, paralysed,
and then in the classroom I can do nothing while a boy takes his painstakingly scrawled label that the group rejected, turns it into a spaceship, and flies it around the room.
The hope that I can be better, that I will not allow eager learners to be humiliated and sink into passivity, calcifies into grim obligation, as I follow this well-trodden path where my humanity must be administered in strategic doses to nourish my allotment of 30 thirsty young souls to grow and yield a harvest.
I hope at least that I can help them grow wild, interplanted, co-existant, joyous, and I will do this even if the yield is less orderly than that grown in rows.
And I will come back to the rest of the world.
This is from the first term of my PGCE. From my struggle to reconcile myself to my tunnel vision on my workload, and to hope that it will lead me somewhere where I am able again to have worthwhile engagement with people in the world. Returning to this as I stew in the process of regurgitating experience as a neatly packaged learning experience for the consumption of the academy.