the_vulture

On the upside though, the year 7s have calmed down quite a bit since the ugliness of the previous couple of weeks. I'm actually ENJOYING the year 7 group that was causing me the most despair a week ago. I might actually be able to last out that extra term and, since the last half-term may prove easier depending on the timetable, I might just finish off the year. 'Course, that'll depend entirely on how long things remain calm...  

In other bits, I now have the joy of having to call my landlord and informing him that there's a leak under the tub. I've identified the problem; the pipe connection has loosened and will need new sealant. I've tightened up the connection to slow the leaking, but I'll likely have to surrender another Saturday for the visit of a plumber to reseal the the thing. Sure I could do it myself, but there'd be no guarantee that I'd get done right and, frankly, why go through the hassle when getting a plumber would be on the landlord's dime?  

Health wise, things seem to be slowly improving. I've managed to stop the weight gain and have regained some of my former stamina. On Saturday, I did a good 45 minute session of yoga and, on Sunday, I covered 5.6 miles. For my longer distances, I've opted to alternate between 10 minutes of running and 2 minutes of walking. It makes for a bit of a slower time, but my knee gives me far less aggro about it. I should probably do the same for shorter distances, but that's not a worry until I actually start doing them again during the week. Yep, motivating myself during weekdays is still a problem for me. Ah well, at least I can complete a 10k race again, if I needed to, albeit with even less grace than I did the first time.

Now granted, there is some there is a fair bit of legitimate argument for the simple fact that many people do not KNOW how to gracefully accept a compliment (kinda sad that they don't get enough practice), but methinks the main root of the problem lies within the current Western perception of beauty.  

Taking my role of pastoral care for my pupils somewhat seriously, I've often brought up the subject of our perception of beauty in class, especially for the benefit of the teenage girls who wind up being placed under tremendous pressure to be inhumanly beautiful. I choose the term "inhuman" for a very precise reason, which is revealed in this short film, by the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty, titled Evolution. 

It shows how a normal woman, through the use of multiple makeup artists and hair stylists, professional photography, and (most disturbingly) a subtantial amount of digital modification, is transformed into one of the "Glamazons" that decorate our many adverts. 

The discussion that results amongst my pupils when I show that film can get a bit intense, but it's no where NEAR the reaction I get when I show the short film titled Onslaught (again by the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty): 

It highlights just how strong of a presence the beauty industry can have for young women. I recall, during one showing, three 15 year old girls hiding their faces during one segment that they, as they later explained, thought was pornographic. Interestingly, the "pornography" they saw came from bus stop adverts, music videos and other media rated for public consumption. 

The closing statement for the film reads "Talk to your daughter before the beauty industry does." 

Kinda hits home, doesn't it. 

Now some of you may be thinking, "Why would a guy care about all this?" I think this short film, titled Amy says it all.

All three of the aforementionded films can be found through the video link for the Dove Campaign for Real Beauty. 

This post is dedicated to every woman I have had to work very hard to convince of the truth of her own beauty, and to those with whom I failed.

Pupil 1:  What's that SMELL?!?!? 

Pupil 2: It's a stink bomb! 

Pupil 3: Who let off a stink bomb? 

Pupil 4: It was (Pupil 5)! She's done it before! 

Pupil 5: Hey! I got excluded for doing that! Why would I be stupid enough to do it again?!? 

(At this point, I realized that it was none of my little darlings; the smell, though very remniscent of a stink bomb, was not strong enough to have been let off in my room - perhaps in the corridor, though.) 

Pips sound out for first lesson and the pupils are dismissed. Pupil 6 waits till most everyone is out of the class before approaching me. 

Pupil 6: Sir. 

Me: Yes, (Pupil 6)? 

Pupil 6: (sheepish) It was me, Sir. 

Me: It was you? 

Pupil 6: Yes, Sir; I farted.

 As much as I miss my childhood days of trying to get as much candy as possible, my thoughts are a fair bit different. Yes, I do think about whether or not to try for a costume this year (but, sadly, cannot afford one yet again, nor do I have the skills, time and/or equipment to make my own) and I also wonder about what to expect from this neighbourhood (shall have to ask the neighbours) in terms of how ill behaved the local youth can be.

But, in the front of my mind, I think about the ancient Celtic view of Samhain (pronounced "sa-wen") and the celebration of the harvest (Samhain being the final harvest rite). Now I'm pretty far removed from the farming traditions of my family, but the idea of reaping the rewards of one's labour over the course of the year is still quite relevant. Afterall, when would be a better time to celebrate one's accomplishments over the course of the year?

 Okay, okay, I can already hear a number of people shouting "New Year's Eve!" and in response to that, well, you're absolutely correct. And, for the Celtic peoples, Samhain was, indeed, New Year's Eve. Of course, for a people whose lives revolved around the cycles of farming, the last day of harvest would be the most appropriate one to celebrate the year with.

So what have I to think about this year? Well, it did see a huge change in my health, including finally being rid of the need to use a CPAP machine to deal with obstructive sleep apnea, as well as actually running a 10k race (a HUGE accomplishment for me). Career wise, it was nice to kept for more than a year, even if I was given all crap classes to teach this year. I no longer question my own ability as a teacher and no longer have anything to really prove to myself in that regard.

This weekend, I'll be marking year 11 Original Writing coursework. In a very true sense, I will being seeing the results of a LOT of effort I have put into their Hero's Journey project over the past half term. I am already well pleased by how many of them actually produced work (this is a very low ability and under-motivated group). Like I say, I no longer really have anything to prove to myself, teaching-wise.

Family wise, this summer proved very important in that I returned to places and people that I hadn't seen since my childhood. It was a great time of spiritual and emotional healing. I was also pleased and relieved to see two of my grandparents, who will not be much longer for this world. It is quite possible that I have seen them for the last time, but, at least, my final memories of them will be pleasant ones.

Traditionally, the Celtic New Year was celebrated with large bonfires used to symbolize purification. In many instances, two bonfires would be set and both people and livestock would be passed between the two in act of purification (ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samhain).

 As Samhain saw the end of the old and the beginning of the new, it was also a time to reflect on one's departed loved ones. By legend, the barrier between the world of the living and that of the dead would be thinnest, as the Summer Lord (Holly Lord, Green Man, etc.) made his descent in the underworld to await rebirth in the spring. There are a plethora of different practices associated with this aspect of Samhain. "Trick or treating" is derived from practices involving leaving offerings for the dead, such as food and drink. Many modern pagans utilize the tradition of the "dumb feast," in which a place is set at one's dinner table for the honoured dead. I, myself, tend to light special candles and share a drink with the dead, in a fashion that would be similar to the Mexican Day of the Dead (one day I'll have to explore the reasons for the many parallels between such similar practices on this day for such differing cultures).

Interestingly, during my early years as a pagan, I actually didn't have any specific people from my life to honour. I gave thanks to my ancestors, as an abstract generality, and to a person of substantial effect on my own spiritual values, O Sensei Morihei Ueshiba. That changed with the death of my grandmother some years back. Now, I light a candle specifically for her, as well as one for my ancestors.

Of course, such communion with the dead also includes the God, as embodied by the Holly Lord. The solemnity of this ceremony is tempered, though, by the acknowledgment that, whilst He and the land pass into a time of darkness, Spring will see His rebirth, as light and warmth once again begin to embrace the world. Oh, and also all that celebration (The Dead drink a lot, you know! You have to keep pace with 'em!).

Sorta goes well beyond "Shall I dress as a witch for Halloween?", don't it. *chuckle*

 I think I'll end this reflection with the suitably seasonal song, Holly Lord, by the Australian folk band, Spiral Dance. The song can be heard here: http://www.soundclick.com/bands/songInfo .cfm?bandID=461752&songID=3411737

Aside from irritation at the fact that they didn't think to get a drink after they had finished PE and figure it would be okay to lose time from English to deal with the issue, school policy is pretty adamant about leaving lessons to get water so I flatly deny them their request.

To counter the resultant moaning, I begin to explain that when I run, I can do so for an hour without needing water. I only get as far as "When I run..." when one little smart ass interrupts with "What, once a month?"

I looked at him askance and explained that, quite regularly, I run 10k. In response to his look of disbelief, I asked, "You don't believe that I run?" With that, I pull up my trouser leg to reveal the huge mass of hard, angular lines, blocks and trenches that is my calf and shin. I note, with satisfaction, the eyes bulging from his skull in shock and amazement.

 "OH GROSS!!!" he exclaims.

 Kids...