On Wednesday I was taking an afternoon registration (form class) with year 11s at Kidbrooke when the Head of Year, Mr Longhurst walked in. He told me (in confidence) that when the register was marked he wanted me to “send all the black boys down to the hall”.
A little surprised by his apparent lack of political correctness, I didn’t ask any questions, but just said OK. Still, I didn’t quite know how I was going to broach the subject with the black kids, one of whom earlier that day was sporting a black LA-style bandanna.
So I thought about it for a while, and decided the short and sharp approach (“All black boys down to the hall”) was probably not the wisest. Fortunately, all four of the black boys were sitting together, so I sauntered up and asked, “Do you guys know you have to go to the hall after this?”
“What, the whole class?”
“No. Just you.”
“Just us? Who said?”
“Mr Longhurst told me. Just you four.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. But it’s just you four”
Success! All of the black boys, bar one, went down to the hall. The fourth refused, and there wasn’t really much I could do about that. But, as Meatloaf says, three out of four ain’t bad.
Feeling pretty pleased with myself for avoiding a potential incident, I carried on sitting there with the kids, waiting for the bell to ring.
About two minutes had passed when suddenly one of the boys burst back into the room, panting from the run.
“The hall *pant* … it’s full of black people!” he said.
Then there was a reaction.
“Oh my days!” the fourth boy responded, “This is wrong! So wrong!”
“How can they do this?” asked another.
Suddenly three or four more ‘black’ people popped out of the woodwork. One was Asian, the rest were thoroughly white – all felt compelled to “help a brother out”, so promptly ran out of the room to the hall.
I couldn’t be happier with how that went, I thought to myself; the principal will be happy.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
If you felt sorry for Britney...
Now here's a story 'bout a suave man named Julian.
After a night out with friends in Leicester Square, we were all chatting outside a pub. Seeing as we were all saying goodbye, we started to talk about the business of saying goodbye. Both Simon and I confided to the others that we could really do without the kiss hello and goodbye thing with people we didn't know (which is like an epidemic in Europe), and kind of hung out for a hand shake to be offered first.
So when Madeline, whom we've met up with a few times before, went to say goodbye, she gave everyone a kiss but hesitated when she came to me. "No!" I said, "I have have to give you a kiss goodbye now, or I'd feel bad." So I went in confidently, and so did she, and we both confidently shifted our heads at the same time, perfectly aligning our faces for a nose-butt.
Now, that would have been bad enough, but to add a Ben-Stiller-movie-esque twist, my nose then started to bleed.
I mean that's not even funny, that's just cruel.
After a night out with friends in Leicester Square, we were all chatting outside a pub. Seeing as we were all saying goodbye, we started to talk about the business of saying goodbye. Both Simon and I confided to the others that we could really do without the kiss hello and goodbye thing with people we didn't know (which is like an epidemic in Europe), and kind of hung out for a hand shake to be offered first.
So when Madeline, whom we've met up with a few times before, went to say goodbye, she gave everyone a kiss but hesitated when she came to me. "No!" I said, "I have have to give you a kiss goodbye now, or I'd feel bad." So I went in confidently, and so did she, and we both confidently shifted our heads at the same time, perfectly aligning our faces for a nose-butt.
Now, that would have been bad enough, but to add a Ben-Stiller-movie-esque twist, my nose then started to bleed.
I mean that's not even funny, that's just cruel.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
So it is starting to get a little cooler over here as autumn is setting in. I have never experienced an autumn before and am really enjoying it. The trees are looking so beautiful at the moment, with their leaves starting to turn gold and fall off the trees (I will take a picture tomorrow).
Our dear friend Mr Fox (Sir Foxy-Fox to you) visits us regularly, and seems to really enjoy our company on saturday mornings. We enjoy his company equally. He's not a fan of the crew at Harrods however, and did not support us as we crossed the picket lines and entered the store, despite the chants of "Fur is Murder, Shame on Harrods!" Shame on me...
Sophia has arrived from the land of Oz, a little later than expected, after missing a connecting flight in Hong Kong, but seems to be settling in well to the routine of job interviews and opening bank accounts, all with little sleep on perhaps not the most comfortable sofa?
On to a new segment... COMPETITION TIME
There is a prize for the person who either correctly guesses what type of shop this sign belongs to, or comes up with the most creative response. Happy Guessing!
Shelley
Our dear friend Mr Fox (Sir Foxy-Fox to you) visits us regularly, and seems to really enjoy our company on saturday mornings. We enjoy his company equally. He's not a fan of the crew at Harrods however, and did not support us as we crossed the picket lines and entered the store, despite the chants of "Fur is Murder, Shame on Harrods!" Shame on me...
Sophia has arrived from the land of Oz, a little later than expected, after missing a connecting flight in Hong Kong, but seems to be settling in well to the routine of job interviews and opening bank accounts, all with little sleep on perhaps not the most comfortable sofa?
On to a new segment... COMPETITION TIME
There is a prize for the person who either correctly guesses what type of shop this sign belongs to, or comes up with the most creative response. Happy Guessing!
Shelley
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Our Place and Duncan
Well we have moved into our new place, and it’s all very delish. It’s even more delish seeing as now we have phone, TV and Internet, all for the low, low price of 27 pounds a month.
Shelley’s Dad has taken a couple of pictures, which really make the place look a lot better than it does in real life; that’s why I’ve posted them. This is what we look out on to at the back. Most days a fox will emerge from the bushes and just sit there staring at our window.
I'll put up some of the inside sometime later.
Last night we went out to South Bank with Peter and Jo (Shelley’s mum and dad) for a walk around. It turned out to be even more eventful than we thought it would be. Just on dark we came across a movie set with cranes, lights and people crowded around, and nowhere to move, so we thought we’d stop. Now, I don’t want to blow my own star-spotting trumpet, but here goes: I saw him first.
I saw a face and thought, ‘Wait a second, don’t I know you from such movies as “Accidental Hero”, “Meet the Fockers”, and some other thing about a cross-dresser? An older lady who wasn’t quite all there stepped up to us and said, “You know who that is, don’t you? That’s a famous movie star, that’s Duncan Hoffman”. Indeed, it was not. I can just imagine her walking away with his autograph, examining it, and then throwing it away in disappointment.
Peter behaved like three paparazzi rolled into one. Click-click here, rapid fire clicks there. He got some good ones.
“Do you know what movie it is they’re shooting?” I asked the lady. “It’s a new one,” she said, “it hasn’t been released yet”. What a scoop! Having failed to glean any useful information, I terminated the exchange.
Emma Thompson was there also, however I missed her. Duncan’s star quality was just too over-bearing.
Shelley’s Dad has taken a couple of pictures, which really make the place look a lot better than it does in real life; that’s why I’ve posted them. This is what we look out on to at the back. Most days a fox will emerge from the bushes and just sit there staring at our window.
I'll put up some of the inside sometime later.
Last night we went out to South Bank with Peter and Jo (Shelley’s mum and dad) for a walk around. It turned out to be even more eventful than we thought it would be. Just on dark we came across a movie set with cranes, lights and people crowded around, and nowhere to move, so we thought we’d stop. Now, I don’t want to blow my own star-spotting trumpet, but here goes: I saw him first.
I saw a face and thought, ‘Wait a second, don’t I know you from such movies as “Accidental Hero”, “Meet the Fockers”, and some other thing about a cross-dresser? An older lady who wasn’t quite all there stepped up to us and said, “You know who that is, don’t you? That’s a famous movie star, that’s Duncan Hoffman”. Indeed, it was not. I can just imagine her walking away with his autograph, examining it, and then throwing it away in disappointment.
Peter behaved like three paparazzi rolled into one. Click-click here, rapid fire clicks there. He got some good ones.
“Do you know what movie it is they’re shooting?” I asked the lady. “It’s a new one,” she said, “it hasn’t been released yet”. What a scoop! Having failed to glean any useful information, I terminated the exchange.
Emma Thompson was there also, however I missed her. Duncan’s star quality was just too over-bearing.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
7 things
Phew! This is text HEAVY. Sister Helen tagged me for this. I'm normally not comfortable being this self-centred, but seeing as someone's given me licence, I may as well exploit the hell out of it. Seven random things (presumably in connection with yourself):
1. I didn't eat chocolate for more than a year, really just to see how long I could do it (I do actually like the stuff). There were multiple reasons: test of will power, conversation starter, etc. In the end, after surviving more than a year, including one Easter, I succumbed to a Wagon Wheel from a university vending machine. That's right; it's always the one you least suspect. Bam! And for those of you who might ask if I enjoyed it, you obviously haven't eaten a Wagon Wheel with a guilty conscience. Or eaten a Wagon Wheel for that matter.
2. Funny stuff-up I read in a book. Giving an insight into Nasser's (Egyptian semi-dictator) personal life, it says:
...He enjoyed a happy family life with his wife Tahia and their five children, preferring to return home for lunch whenever possible. His tastes in food were simple. He devoured newpapers, but took little interest in highbrow literature or the arts.
Ha haaaaa! Ha hooo ho! He eats newpaper!
3. I played trumpet in an over-50s band for two years in my early teens. It wasn't the coolest thing to be doing at the time, and it's not like I put it on my CV when I applying for friends, but I have very fond memories of it. Most of the old people had been or still were amazing players, and they all wanted to hang with the young one.
4. I got kicked out of my friendship group in grade 10. (This was even after I quit the over 50s band.) I had somehow fallen in (I think because of my subservience) with the cool gang in grade 5, and had remained incumbent until grade 10. It was then I think they realised I was really a sheep dressed in wolves' clothing, and subsequently set about cutting off my food and water supplies (socially speaking). Of course I went on to get much better and more relevant friends, but it was crushing at the time.
5. Until about four years ago, I thought shooting stars were actually stars shooting across the sky. Yes. That's why I thought it was so amazing - a window to a time long since past.
6. In grade four Andrew Morris (black marketeer from Wondall primary) was trying to sell me a neck chain - about the coolest thing you could have at the time - for $1.50. Seeing it was quite thin, I voiced my concerns about its durability. So, in order to reassure me, he gave the chain a hard yank, which unfortunately snapped it in half. He paused then offered it to me for 50 cents. I accepted, feeling I had been given an amazingly lucky break. Brother Aaron put it together with a twist-tie, saving me a dollar. Later in the year I bought a real arrow from Andrew for $2 - another sound investment, only he couldn't furnish me with a bow.
7. I think I had some bad social anxiety in music school. I only realised towards the end, but I was a looney. I avoided people I knew whenever possible. If they were friendly and outgoing towards me I avoided them even more. I entered the building through back fire exits; travelled through a maze of corridors to avoid main thoroughfares; skipped as many lectures as I could; and ate lunch by myself each day in an artifical rainforest just off campus. I soon came to realise that it's not really what you know in the music business, but who you know. Hhhm.
Now I suppose I tag Kristy & Gerrod (who will have to split the seven between them).
1. I didn't eat chocolate for more than a year, really just to see how long I could do it (I do actually like the stuff). There were multiple reasons: test of will power, conversation starter, etc. In the end, after surviving more than a year, including one Easter, I succumbed to a Wagon Wheel from a university vending machine. That's right; it's always the one you least suspect. Bam! And for those of you who might ask if I enjoyed it, you obviously haven't eaten a Wagon Wheel with a guilty conscience. Or eaten a Wagon Wheel for that matter.
2. Funny stuff-up I read in a book. Giving an insight into Nasser's (Egyptian semi-dictator) personal life, it says:
...He enjoyed a happy family life with his wife Tahia and their five children, preferring to return home for lunch whenever possible. His tastes in food were simple. He devoured newpapers, but took little interest in highbrow literature or the arts.
Ha haaaaa! Ha hooo ho! He eats newpaper!
3. I played trumpet in an over-50s band for two years in my early teens. It wasn't the coolest thing to be doing at the time, and it's not like I put it on my CV when I applying for friends, but I have very fond memories of it. Most of the old people had been or still were amazing players, and they all wanted to hang with the young one.
4. I got kicked out of my friendship group in grade 10. (This was even after I quit the over 50s band.) I had somehow fallen in (I think because of my subservience) with the cool gang in grade 5, and had remained incumbent until grade 10. It was then I think they realised I was really a sheep dressed in wolves' clothing, and subsequently set about cutting off my food and water supplies (socially speaking). Of course I went on to get much better and more relevant friends, but it was crushing at the time.
5. Until about four years ago, I thought shooting stars were actually stars shooting across the sky. Yes. That's why I thought it was so amazing - a window to a time long since past.
6. In grade four Andrew Morris (black marketeer from Wondall primary) was trying to sell me a neck chain - about the coolest thing you could have at the time - for $1.50. Seeing it was quite thin, I voiced my concerns about its durability. So, in order to reassure me, he gave the chain a hard yank, which unfortunately snapped it in half. He paused then offered it to me for 50 cents. I accepted, feeling I had been given an amazingly lucky break. Brother Aaron put it together with a twist-tie, saving me a dollar. Later in the year I bought a real arrow from Andrew for $2 - another sound investment, only he couldn't furnish me with a bow.
7. I think I had some bad social anxiety in music school. I only realised towards the end, but I was a looney. I avoided people I knew whenever possible. If they were friendly and outgoing towards me I avoided them even more. I entered the building through back fire exits; travelled through a maze of corridors to avoid main thoroughfares; skipped as many lectures as I could; and ate lunch by myself each day in an artifical rainforest just off campus. I soon came to realise that it's not really what you know in the music business, but who you know. Hhhm.
Now I suppose I tag Kristy & Gerrod (who will have to split the seven between them).
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