There are any number of similarities between being a teacher and being a parent. Both involve an awful lot of behaviour management, dealing with repetitious questions and the constant nagging sense that you're not quite doing it well enough. The biggest similarity is that, just when you think you've got a handle on what it …
Philosophers spend much of their time (I assume based on little to no research) sat in Parisian cafes, smoking filterless cigarettes, drinking small cups of intensely black coffee and considering the nature of humanity. A process of inductive reasoning must take place. A noticing of an idiosyncrasy that turns out to be more common than …
One of the unlooked for joys of working with teenagers is watching them believe, with the utmost certainty, that they know better than you. It's not really their fault. Being so young they have no real frames of reference for the consequences of their actions and so their attempts to embrace the agency of adulthood …
Having been a teacher for too long, I have seen many awful student performances. Many where either nerves or a gross overestimation of ability has led to those protracted silences that forces everyone in the audience to smile fixedly for the duration. You can see people desperately fighting the urge to look at their phone …
There was the loud semi-hollow bang of face on radiator followed by the silent intake of breath that was pregnant with rage and pain. All parents know it as a precursor to a scream that can be heard in France. There was quite a bit of blood. This happened on a grey autumn Sunday and …
One of my many flaws is that I can't seem to leave an argument alone. My younger brother uses it to great effect whenever he wants to wind me up, adopting a ludicrous position, arguing dismissively and then smiling broadly when I take him seriously and get on my high horse. His pleasure is drawn …
Being a parent is - largely - an exercise in becoming everything you hate. I hate people who try to desperately live their unfulfilled dreams through their children. You know the type. They're the ones at their kid's sports match, screaming obscenities at a huddled bunch of five-year olds for some minor technical infringement. The …
We are told, from an exceptionally young age, that the only way to succeed in life is to have high standards. That is to say, everything must be completed, at all times, to the very best of your ability. I was something of a late comer to this mentality. My time at school was anything but …
It's a warm day in the middle of summer. A blonde haired toddler is showing off his new-found ability to throw rocks into a hole in the ground to the amusement of his dad and older cousin, two young boys scamper cheekily through some flowers giggling as they do, a beloved uncle pesters a hapless …
Maybe it's the time of year. The skin is still golden, although it is only a matter of time before the very last hint of a summer spent largely outside will fade and only the memory will remain. The morning walk to the car requires a jacket. The wife's warmth in bed is now a …
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