Recycles…

Teaching: generational change

27 Jan 2007

The next year or two will see a massive generational change in the teaching service as the Boomers retire or fall off the twig. I began my career way back in 1966, forty-one years ago. Not many teachers with that length of record were still in the service when I started, and once I moved to the Wollongong area in 1970 just about everyone seemed to be a twenty-something. Those days may be about to come round again.

I thought of this today as I was negotiating with a Year 11 boy, just back from the familial holiday visit to China, who wishes to start coaching next week. He is the cousin of Jessie, who was a Year 12 coachee last year. (God, now these coachees have lived their entire lives during the period I have known M!)

The Rabbit begins his teaching career proper on Monday in one of these schools. Good heavens, their Multicultural/ESL Consultant, Carol Marshman, is stationed in Wollongong! These people have been cut back severely in recent years. Where once maybe four consultants in this field covered from just north of Wollongong (The Shire) to the Harbour and west to around Ashfield, now one does that job. I can tell you from experience these consultants were mighty useful, but these days it must be hard for them to have an effect.

Schools in the Campbelltown area vary in their demographics. Be interesting to know more about the issues The Rabbit’s school will present. Perhaps we’ll learn more on his blog one day.

Meanwhile, my thoughts are with him. It can be a tough job, make no mistake, but it also has its rewards.

Perhaps my English and ESL site will be of some use. I note its usage is growing. Interesting too what people look at on the two sites. WordPress tells me a lot, but does not count the static pages when it indicates what people have visited. Sitemeter does, but in its free version only preserves the past 100 visits in detail, and these days that may only be half a day’s worth. It’s 86 so far today, with over twelve hours left…

Oxford Street Sydney

28 Jan 2007

They have been cleaning it up lately, but it is still a dowdy old queen of a street in many ways. I’m not there as much as I used to be, and very rarely at night. These days too I tend to avoid Mardi Gras, not because I don’t respect its significance, but I really don’t like crowds. You may read my thoughts on the subject by clicking the link in the previous sentence. The season is almost upon us again.

A few years ago Sydney City Council had an exhibition on Sydney Streets. Perhaps that old Cronulla pic in the previous entry has prompted me, but I thought I’d indulge in a bit more nostalgia with two photos of Oxford Street from that 2003 exhibition. The top one is in the 1940s, the bottom from 2003. It’s around 20-25 minutes walk from here in Elizabeth Street Surry Hills.

Lord Malcolm update

31 Jan 2007

Update 8 March 2007 Lord Malcolm is still with us and has plans for this month. Will let you know how they went… [NOTE: Malcolm finally passed away 1 June 2007.]

See here and here.

Sirdan and I visited Malcolm last Sunday and were able to take him out into the sun for a while. I have just seen him today. There is a new round of opportunistic infection.

Dorothy had been this morning; she gave him a framed message from South Sydney Uniting Church. I had known nothing about that.

A vanishing speck in those inane dominions,
Single and frail, uncertain of her place,
Alone in the bright host of her companions,
Lost in the blue unfriendliness of space.

She feels it close now, the appointed season;
The invisible thread is broken as she flies;
Suddenly, without warning, without reason,
The guiding spark of instinct winks and dies.

Try as she will, the trackless world delivers
No way, the wilderness of light no sign;
The immense and complex map of hills and rivers
Mocks her small wisdom with its vast design.

And darkness rises from the eastern valleys,
And the winds buffet her with their hungry breath,
And the great earth, with neither grief nor malice,
Receives the tiny burden of her death.

It really won’t be long now. I thought of that poem by A D Hope as I was walking home. (I have restored the poem to the version I remember.)

Seen at St Vincents Hospital: a woman in full hijab, possibly Indonesian, wheeling an old Anglo man in a wheelchair, just to help out. No relation. A good sight.

Later

Dorothy sent me a copy of the message for Malcolm. You may read it over the fold.

Perhaps subconsciously I think we were both remembering the major part flying has played in Malcolm’s life. He still delights to talk about it. And just for interest, here is where Malcolm worked in recent years.

A BLESSING FOR MALCOLM

May the night be calm around you,
like a cloak of gentleness,
and the day be filled with moments
of many gathered gifts.
May your memories hold you firmly
into life lived with delight –
with regrets tossed away,
and all that is valuable
cherished and staying close beside you
to add to your future.
May your spirit soar into the heights,
flying free, unfettered by earthly limits,
and surrounded with clouds of love
which visit you like every friend you ever had.
And then may a God,
who is always filled with kindness,
bring you rest and peace.

Love and prayers from me every day
and from all your friends at South Sydney
Dorothy