"Reverting to old ideas, when people become disappointed in new ideas, does not help."
- Peter Demianovich Ouspensky
Down the Tubes (Part 1)
This is a story about two pointless journeys. They both happened last Thursday (August 16th 2012).
The First Journey
I have a friend who's trying to set up a business - which will employ several people including me. But he's out of the country, and there's a load of paperwork.
So at 0140 on Thursday morning, just as I was getting ready for bed, he calls. He says he's got a family member who works at an embassy, and this relation as a special favour can push through all the paperwork in one day - rather that it taking several weeks.
There's just one problem: The relation goes on holiday tomorrow, so could I print out all the paperwork my friend's about to email, and catch a train to London in the morning. Oh, and I have to be at the embassy by midday at the latest, because...something something something.
The train fare will be reimbursed, but I need to get up at six in the morning to print the bumpf and get the earliest train possible. I'm dubious, but I'll do it.
It's nine hours later, I've finally found the embassy and I'm sitting in a waiting room decorated entirely in brown. I'd post a photo, but embassies don't let you take mobile phones inside because...something something something.
It's another ninety minutes later, and my friend's distant relative gets back from his two hour lunch break.
It's fifteen minutes after that, and I'm back on the street having learned four things.
One, the man who works at the embassy is in fact a receptionist. Two, receptionists cannot, as a rule, bypass their bosses. Three, half the paperwork was missing. Four, the other half was the wrong paperwork.
And after another half hour of text messages and phone calls, five: My friend's relative insists that yes, he really can fasttrack the paperwork, and it'll cost nothing extra to do (as opposed to GBP1000 to employ an agency to do it), so all I need to do is return to London in two weeks. And this time it'll work and everything'll be fine. Because...something something something.
Which I agree to do. Just as soon as the money for both train fares appears in my bank account.
So. Utter fiasco. But then I realise something.
The Second Journey
I'm in London with a train/bus/underground ticket that'll take me anywhere in the city until midnight.
I can be a tourist for the day. I've got a phone with a terrible camera, and I can do a series of blogposts featuring blurry pictures of whatever is within walking distance of whichever tube stations I chose to visit.
So begins my second journey - through the tubes. Starting tomorrow.
3.14: Palpatine
My first ever attempt at singing. It's not a song, and there's only one note, but I was actually quite pleased to find I could sing a vowel in tune.
Plus, a school choir.
Plus, a school choir.
3.14: Song for the Boy
The first of a trilogy of tracks written 'for' my closer friends at college. They never got to hear their 'songs', and in fact I told almost no one I was spending all my free time messing about with sound.
The first one of the three - everyone assumed he was in love with me. The second - everyone assumed I was in love with him. The third - I actually was in love with him. Or possibly lust - when you're 19 it's difficult to tell.
The three 'songs' were written as an interconnected trilogy. This one was also an experiment with having the drum machine play the bass line.
The first one of the three - everyone assumed he was in love with me. The second - everyone assumed I was in love with him. The third - I actually was in love with him. Or possibly lust - when you're 19 it's difficult to tell.
The three 'songs' were written as an interconnected trilogy. This one was also an experiment with having the drum machine play the bass line.
Fire! Fire!
I started to write a blogpost last night about how I might get fired today.
Today I was fired.
My crime was asking my class to write short essays about what they liked and disliked about the school. They liked the teachers, the games, and the way we taught using pop songs and TV shows - a method greatly disapproved of by management.
The students hated, and I mean really hated, just two things. The absurdly long prescribed lesson length of 80 minutes. And the official school textbook.
This book was compiled from mismatched sections spliced from other textbooks. The section on asking questions contained no questions, the spread on second conditionals was simply incorrect, and tasks for beginners were explained in language difficult for advanced readers.
It came with a CD of pre-recorded dialogues - in the wrong order, with some missing, not matching the pages in the book which referred to them.
In short, it was completely unusable. Which is why none of us used it.
Management however, decreed that teachers must use it, and every student must learn from it, even though there weren't nearly enough copies to go round.
Oh, and any manager could walk into any class at any time to 'assess' whether a teacher was 'supporting management', and terminate their contract at any time. All completely illegal of course.
My crime then was agreeing with my students. Or knowing my job, whichever is worse.
On friday, the directive came through, complete with threats and belittling language, and three teachers walked out. One was persuaded to come back - and was fired an hour later for explaining why he walked out.
On monday morning, another was re-hired, re-fired, re-hired and re-fired.
On monday afternoon, I got an email telling me I was fired. It contained three short paragraphs, featuring four basic grammar mistakes and two punctuation errors.
At least one other was also fired - and all by the same unqualified manager parachuted in to, er, calm things down. At least another two colleagues are considering walking out, and a further two desperately want to leave but can't for financial reasons. Yet.
So, a shitty school in meltdown. A raft of complaints to the regulators - who've been known to withdraw accreditation on the basis of one complaint. So far two legal actions against the school pending, and a picket outside the premises.
Two things I love. Teaching - and learning from - students, and watching idiots crash and burn. I've got a new job starting soon, I've made some good friends at work, there's now finally some time to make music...and I get a lie in bed tomorrow.
Today has been a good day.
Today I was fired.
My crime was asking my class to write short essays about what they liked and disliked about the school. They liked the teachers, the games, and the way we taught using pop songs and TV shows - a method greatly disapproved of by management.
The students hated, and I mean really hated, just two things. The absurdly long prescribed lesson length of 80 minutes. And the official school textbook.
This book was compiled from mismatched sections spliced from other textbooks. The section on asking questions contained no questions, the spread on second conditionals was simply incorrect, and tasks for beginners were explained in language difficult for advanced readers.
It came with a CD of pre-recorded dialogues - in the wrong order, with some missing, not matching the pages in the book which referred to them.
In short, it was completely unusable. Which is why none of us used it.
Management however, decreed that teachers must use it, and every student must learn from it, even though there weren't nearly enough copies to go round.
Oh, and any manager could walk into any class at any time to 'assess' whether a teacher was 'supporting management', and terminate their contract at any time. All completely illegal of course.
My crime then was agreeing with my students. Or knowing my job, whichever is worse.
On friday, the directive came through, complete with threats and belittling language, and three teachers walked out. One was persuaded to come back - and was fired an hour later for explaining why he walked out.
On monday morning, another was re-hired, re-fired, re-hired and re-fired.
On monday afternoon, I got an email telling me I was fired. It contained three short paragraphs, featuring four basic grammar mistakes and two punctuation errors.
At least one other was also fired - and all by the same unqualified manager parachuted in to, er, calm things down. At least another two colleagues are considering walking out, and a further two desperately want to leave but can't for financial reasons. Yet.
So, a shitty school in meltdown. A raft of complaints to the regulators - who've been known to withdraw accreditation on the basis of one complaint. So far two legal actions against the school pending, and a picket outside the premises.
Two things I love. Teaching - and learning from - students, and watching idiots crash and burn. I've got a new job starting soon, I've made some good friends at work, there's now finally some time to make music...and I get a lie in bed tomorrow.
Today has been a good day.
3.14: The Story He Told Me
I was experimenting with more abstract sounds. Sometimes that meant disconnected soundscapes that no one would want to hear, no matter how clever I'd been with them. And sometimes it meant finding new ways to abuse the equipment, like recording the tune backwards to see how it sounded forwards.
But always, it meant revisiting films I'd grown up with.
But always, it meant revisiting films I'd grown up with.
Teaches, Shouts and Leaves
In the world of TEFL, it's not unusual to see vacancies advertised for schools which urgently need 12 teachers...in the middle of a term.
It's obvious what's happened. The entire teaching staff have walked out, and management suddenly need replacements. As for why they've walked out, the usual reason is just not being paid. Though bullying management, complete absence of resources, and insane school owners are common too.
Today at my school, we had a meeting. Higher management had sent a directive to lower management to berate teachers for not using the school's own (utterly unusable) textbook, and to say they'd be randomly dropping in on us to 'assess our adherence to guidelines'.
This bullying management, combined with the complete absence of resources, plus unpaid breaks and preparation time, low pay, bonkers timetabling and bonkerser travel arrangements...led to the meeting starting with five teachers...and finishing with two.
A lot of shouting, a lot of failed misdirection from the manager, and a walk-out.
I was one of those who stayed, barely - and for the sake of the students. That might not make much sense if you're not the kind of person attracted to teaching. But I'll put up with a fair bit of shit for the sake of my class of 16 german teenagers. Plus five redirected from the class of one who did walk out.
A fair bit, but no more that we've had for the last five weeks. I'll stay - for another week but no more, just until the end of the course of my current students.
Or...anyone drops into my class unannounced to 'assess my adherence to guidelines'. Any more shit from management, and my self-respect outweighs my professionalism.
It's obvious what's happened. The entire teaching staff have walked out, and management suddenly need replacements. As for why they've walked out, the usual reason is just not being paid. Though bullying management, complete absence of resources, and insane school owners are common too.
Today at my school, we had a meeting. Higher management had sent a directive to lower management to berate teachers for not using the school's own (utterly unusable) textbook, and to say they'd be randomly dropping in on us to 'assess our adherence to guidelines'.
This bullying management, combined with the complete absence of resources, plus unpaid breaks and preparation time, low pay, bonkers timetabling and bonkerser travel arrangements...led to the meeting starting with five teachers...and finishing with two.
A lot of shouting, a lot of failed misdirection from the manager, and a walk-out.
I was one of those who stayed, barely - and for the sake of the students. That might not make much sense if you're not the kind of person attracted to teaching. But I'll put up with a fair bit of shit for the sake of my class of 16 german teenagers. Plus five redirected from the class of one who did walk out.
A fair bit, but no more that we've had for the last five weeks. I'll stay - for another week but no more, just until the end of the course of my current students.
Or...anyone drops into my class unannounced to 'assess my adherence to guidelines'. Any more shit from management, and my self-respect outweighs my professionalism.
3.14: Threads
Sometimes everything just comes together. The experiments with coaxing out new textures from the drum machine, the experiments with what sounds you sample and what melodies fall out of the keyboard...and the pot luck of what samplable dialogue has been on TV recently.
I've always been fond of voices and accents. At the time I didn't know who owned this Polish accent - so I didn't know it was Vladek Sheybal, the actor who for 20 years appeared in every British-made spy serial whenever they wanted a sophisticated East European bad guy, starting with 'Number 5' in From Russia with Love.
I've always been fond of voices and accents. At the time I didn't know who owned this Polish accent - so I didn't know it was Vladek Sheybal, the actor who for 20 years appeared in every British-made spy serial whenever they wanted a sophisticated East European bad guy, starting with 'Number 5' in From Russia with Love.
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