Monday, 26 December 2022
IDEALS AND INTERESTS
Saturday, 24 December 2022
COMPARING PERSONAL EXPERIENCES OF TWO ENGLISH CULTURES
My life until now has been low on prayer. I grew up in a house where there was much scornful talk of God-botherers, but now I find myself in a job where barely an hour passes without my bothering God in one way or another.
Earlier this year I moved to the north-east of England and since September have been teaching at a Catholic school near Newcastle. At first, this praying didn’t come naturally. I could just about say the Lord’s Prayer, hard-wired in me since primary school, but even this was of limited help. In the first assembly my lone voice rang out with my favourite bit — “For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever, amen” — not noticing that everyone else had stopped, as Catholics do, after “deliver us from evil”.
Now, I’ve got the hang of it and find I like praying. Saying things in unison is one of life’s great but uncelebrated pleasures — it creates an instant state of togetherness and orderliness. I also very much like the words: peace, grace, hope and light. The last of these is particularly nice to say as there is so little of it up here, 55 degrees north, where on cloudy days around the winter solstice it doesn’t really get light at all.
Although I don’t feel any closer to Christ, I am being converted to a slightly different view of education — and, after a term’s immersion in Geordie society, to a radically different view of how best to live. Life at my school is founded on the Gospel values which, I found after a spot of googling, involve the sort of thing even the most devout atheist should be able to sign up to: forgiveness, honesty, trust, family and, above all, love.
I listened with disbelief in the first staff meeting when we were told it was our job to love all our students — especially the ones who were hardest to love. This was a departure from the successful academy school in east London where I trained, when staff would gather together in the name of no excuses, exam results and value-added scores.
This emphasis on love seems to me oddly profound, because from it everything else flows. If you force yourself to care deeply for every one of your students, you work harder for them, you want the best for them. All the other stuff I learnt in teacher training after leaving my job as a columnist at the Financial Times — differentiation and assessment for learning — seems a bit by the by.
It is not only the Gospel that is making me have a rethink. It is the experience of teaching and living 300 miles from the capital, my home for the past 63 years.
I can’t remember quite what I expected when I moved. I knew about the north-south divide. I knew the south doesn’t understand the north, and the north feels resentful of the south for hogging the money and almost everything else — which explains both why the north voted for Brexit and why we in the south didn’t see it coming.
In my old borough of Hackney 78 per cent voted to stay in the UK; in the North East 58 per cent voted to leave. I’ve moved from the richest part of the country to one of the poorest, from somewhere where educational standards are among the best to where they are among the worst.
I expected to feel alien; I expected to be treated with suspicion. But, more than six months in, and even though I still feel weird in my new setting, there hasn’t been a whiff of suspicion, let alone resentment. My fellow teachers subject me to the same upbeat banter that they heap on each other and only very occasionally do they let slip that they find me odd.
The other day, I asked a colleague what he was up to at the weekend, and then followed it up with further inquiries until he protested: “Bloody hell, Kellaway, you ask a lot of questions!” By contrast, none of them have asked me anything, which at first I found a bit flat, but which I’m now starting to see the point of. They are simply taking me as they find me.
What’s wrong with a B? I’d much rather get that than spend six hours every week on business studies
Year 12 student, Newcastle
My students are doing likewise. No one laughs at my voice, or seems to be doing any judging, at least not in a negative way. They appear to have done some perfunctory googling about me, enough to hit on the sole fact that interests them. Early on one of my cheekier Year 12s came bursting into my class, saying: “Miss! There’s a rumour going round about you: you’re loaded.”
He said he’d looked up my net worth online and found I had $1.3mn. I told him I had no idea where the number came from and, anyway, it was all down to property prices. If you had bought a flat for £27,000 in London in 1985 and had a professional job for a few decades, then the overwhelming likelihood was a net worth of more than £1mn. This was perfectly normal in the capital, where there were more than 800,000 dollar millionaires.
My tutorial on property prices did not go down well. He batted my words away — he liked the thought of being taught by a proper millionaire and didn’t want me to talk down my fortune.
In a way this should have been familiar. My students at all the schools where I taught in London shared the fascination with money and the desire to have more of it. But in every other way this new bunch of teenagers seem very different indeed.
The first difference is that in my last school barely 2 per cent were white; in this one it is about 90 per cent. The second is that they have lived in the same place for generations. One day I was talking about structural unemployment and giving an example of the region’s defunct coal mines, shipyards and steel plants. On a whim, I asked them if all four grandparents were born nearby — almost three-quarters of the class raised their hands. I remembered a related question being put to my Hackney school where an assembly hall of students were asked if both parents were born in London. Out of 200, barely 10 put up their hands, most of them of African-Caribbean heritage.
The Newcastle supporters were baffled when the club told them to leave all tea towels at home
The stats bear this out. According to the University of Essex’s Understanding Society study, the North East is the least mobile place in the country, with 55 per cent of survey respondents living within 15 miles of their mother — more than three times as many as in the capital. And, if my students are any guide, this statistic is not about to change, as few of them plan to leave. They might go abroad for a bit (I tried to warn them that Brexit has made this harder), but after that they want to return home. No one has any interest in moving to London. They know they can’t afford it, and don’t fancy it anyway.
It seems to me that London’s extreme mobility and the North East’s lack of it explain so much about the differences between the two places and the best and the worst things about each.
This stability cuts across everything. It may account for the lack of curiosity. It may also lead to insularity and innocence in how they view the world. All London schoolchildren know a lot about different cultures; my students know only their own. When last year their beloved Newcastle United football club was bought by the Saudis, in a surge of joyous exuberance some of them took to the streets wearing tea towels on their heads. They were baffled when the club put out an announcement telling supporters to leave all tea towels at home. Any London teenager could tell them about cultural appropriation, but when I tried to explain, one shook his head in disbelief: “Miss, we were showing respect! We were saying thank you for buying our club.”
A bigger difference concerns competition. In London every day 9mn people fight it out for scarce resources: for a seat on the Tube, a flat to rent, success, jobs, money or fame. Everyone is striving for something — and immigration intensifies this. When families travel thousands of miles from their homes to make a better life for their children, they don’t let them sit around doing the minimum.
It struck me that joy is something that Geordies, despite the cold and dark and lower incomes, are really rather good at
The Hackney schools I taught in were monuments to striving and, as a result, the children did very well indeed. Last month, I did a Zoom call with some of my most driven students and heard how they were applying to Oxbridge and the London School of Economics and Russell Group universities. I felt a sudden pang for my current students who, despite going to one of the best schools in the area, have few such ambitions. They mostly do the work I set them and mostly do it more or less adequately. But, for most of them, that’s as far as it goes.
Early on, in a bid to change this, I told my Year 12s that to do well at A-level they would need to do six hours’ independent work a week per subject. The class gawped in disbelief. Patiently, one explained he couldn’t do that because he worked weekends in a restaurant in the Metro Centre and needed to see his mates and watch football.
I replied that, in that case, the best grade he’d get would be a C — or maybe a B if he was very lucky. “What’s wrong with a B?” he said. “I’d much rather get that than spend six hours every week on business studies.”
The wind was taken out of my sails. I had nothing to say in reply.
Some students are aiming higher. One tells me his dad has always pushed him, and he wants to go south to a top university. “I have friends who are so clever — cleverer than I am. But they don’t care about going to uni because they don’t have the motivation or the passion. They don’t want to challenge themselves. They are in their comfort zones and they don’t want to get out.”
He sees it as a shame and a waste — and that’s what I used to think. But now I’m wondering if it might not be a sign of failure and culpably low aspirations if no one wants to go to the best universities or move to London to make their fortune. Couldn’t it be a sign of the opposite — of a close-knit community where people stay not because they lack imagination but because they like it there?
I’m reading Fiona Hill’s book about growing up in poverty in nearby Bishop Auckland and going to Harvard and ending up at the US State Department. Her dad, a miner-turned-hospital porter, once said to her, “There’s nothing for you here”, and from that came the title. But for my students, I think there are a lot of things for them here. They want to be midwives and builders and primary schoolteachers and make-up artists and police officers. One of them wants to study law at Northumbria University — for which he needs, and will get, a B. I don’t think he’ll ever make senior partner in a magic circle law firm, but so what?
Who is to say these aren’t good ambitions? And who can fail to admire the lack of stress in getting there? Even in these past six months, I have been acutely aware of the lifting of pressure. Every day for five years when I taught in the capital my stomach tightened as I went through the school gates. Now, I park my car outside after a nine-minute drive and go inside, no clenching of the stomach.
Miss, I think you should relax. Then you’d enjoy your life more
School pupil, Newcastle
In my current school the teachers seem happy and have no plans to quit. Many have taught there for 20 or 30 years and educated the parents of the current students. Indeed, teacher turnover is so low that I very nearly didn’t get a job. When I started looking last spring, there were 120 vacancies for business studies and economics teachers in London; in the whole of the North East there were only three.
In the highest-achieving London academies a quarter of the staff quit every year — not just because they can’t afford flats but because they are wrung out by the scale of the work. This is the trade-off: this sort of system gets the best possible GCSE results, but the teachers, and sometimes the students, get burnt out achieving it.
Last week at school when the third advent candle was lit — which I now know represents joy — it struck me that this is something that Geordies, despite the cold and dark and lower incomes, are really rather good at. At least they seem to be better at it than I am.
In the week before Christmas, when everyone was winding down for the festive season and preparing for a whole-school outing to the local cinema complex, I set my students some homework, which I said I’d mark the next day. One of them, a boy who is not in the slightest hard to love, piped up: “Miss, I think you should relax. Then you’d enjoy your life more.”
Straight back, I told him that I enjoyed my life very much indeed. But, as I prepare for my first Christmas in the North East, I’m starting to wonder: what if he’s right?
Lucy Kellaway is an FT contributing editor and co-founder of Now Teach.
I understand or at least I think I understand this article
I can feel at some point it relate to me and to us
The writer is somebody who is open minded so she sees what is happening that is out of her previous experiences, previous assumption, previous faith (maybe) does not drove her into “ I am right and smart and this community is stupid and lazy and less motivated”
Do you think because she compare European with other European?
Do you think if what she found in the north east is not in northeast but in south east asia then the way she saw it different?
Maybe….
We understand easier to our own people…
Maybe I cannot afford to reach Europe but I don’t say I don’t need to. That north east people (according to the writer) they know they cant afford and they don’t want to…
What I don’t need to is to be an immigrant. Left behind my origin to be a lowest people in Europe. Many things in Europe is great. I would love to know and to learn and to admire. But I don’t want to throw away my own culture. Yes, at this moment I can not afford but I let the dream to stay in Spain (Andalucia) and Italy (Sicilia) and morroco keeps alive.
I myself from small city and we have to move out to get education (university)
Family, and not the place, who become a chain to make me stay….
====
Maybe what we can learn from that article is : don’t easily judge other person and other community and other culture.
Maybe it is life long learning to understand. Understand other person, even our close ones is already long life effort. Let alone a community. Let alone other cultures…
We tend to (maybe unconsciously) see everything with our own “glasses”
We (unconsciously) always compare, we like it, we hate it…
I still learn so hard to understand my brother, a man whom I knew since I was born, the second man after my father…. Same blood same genetic but how difficult to understand, to talk, to accept, to love….
====
But isn't this about the conventional rewardswe are offered, in place of what really counts which is trusted long-term relationships that we enjoy in the moment, in "the lightness of being".
It is "to be" v. "to have", again.
====
Thursday, 22 December 2022
KEBAB OR SHAWARMA?
Saturday, 10 December 2022
PROFESSIONAL QUALITIES
Friday, 9 December 2022
THE DAILY RANT
LOOKING FOR A JOB IN ANOTHER COUNTRY
Looking for a Job in Another Country
Working
abroad is an attractive option if you’re finding your career frustrated by lack
of opportunities, affirmative employment barriers, or whatever, but you don’t want
to move permanently to another country. You’re likely to earn more, probably
pay less tax, broaden your experience, build up capital offshore, have better
opportunities to travel.
Providing
you have an appropriate qualification and work experience, you shouldn’t find
it too difficult to secure a job on contract somewhere else as an “expat.”
Companies operating internationally are often on the look-out for employees
with reputations for working hard with flexibility, broad-ranging high-level
skills, leadership talent, and ability to work comfortably with other ethnic
groups.
Contract
workers are particularly favoured for new projects because they provide skills
only required for a relatively short period (as in construction), or to train
local labour (particularly in developing countries). Sometimes a company
employs contract workers because it’s unwilling to take on permanent staff,
with all its legal obligations to them, until its new business has proved
viable.
However,
before you go after a job abroad, consider the matter carefully – do you really
want to make a major change, live away from family, friends and things familiar
in another country with a very different culture and (probably) language?
If
you’re determined to give it a try, it’s important to go about it with careful
planning. You can find a job either by direct contact with an employer, or
through placement agencies and specialist consultants.
The
first step is to prepare your “marketing brochure” – a convincing CV. You may
wish to get professional advice on this. Remember that how it is read by a
potential employer will determine whether or not you get that vital interview.
To
create the best impression, keep your CV brief… preferably not more than two
pages in length. Maintain a logical and interesting pattern to your personal
details, keep the technical terminology to a minimum, and keep it simple.
Remember that the reader who makes the final decision about whether or not to
employ you may only have English as his or her second language.
Once
your CV is ready, you can go about identifying your target companies and
drawing up a list. The Internet is an invaluable tool for doing such research.
Companies such as Go Abroad, Easy Expat, Go Overseas, Expat Network and ECA
International offer data on pay scales, living costs, employment benefits and
quality of life. The Global Expat Index, for example, lists the ten best cities
for expats to live and work in as Kuala Lumpur, Tbilisi, Lisbon, Dubai,
Bangkok, Prague, Madrid, Barcelona, Alicante and Montreal.
When
going after a job, always send your CV to a specific person, If you are not
sure whom that should be then phone each company on your target list and find
out. You’re probably looking for someone with a title such as Human Resources,
Personnel or Recruitment Manager.
If
you are lucky enough to speak to someone helpful during your telephonic
enquiries, try to get as much information about the company as possible and
what job opportunities are available. If the prospects seem favourable, then
forward a copy of your CV immediately, following up with a telephone call a few
days later. This call could prove invaluable as, even if there is no vacancy at
present, you could get an indication as to when one might be available.
Remember
the international employment market is subject to constant change and demand
for particular skills fluctuates according to economic trends. Companies that
were expanding a year or two ago might now be downsizing, having suffered a
setback to their profitability.
Don’t
anticipate that you will get your job offer quickly, and don’t become
disillusioned about how long it takes to achieve your aim. It all takes time,
so think in terms of months rather than weeks to make progress.
Its always worth trying to negotiate better terms
When
you are offered a job, it’s important to investigate the detail of the package
that goes with it. The big multinationals usually have established pay and
benefit structures for expats they hire, so there may not be much room for you
to negotiate, but it’s always worth trying. With many employers, your skill at
bargaining could determine how good is the deal you get.
If
you’re wanted to work in an unstable banana republic your bargaining position
will usually be stronger. If you’re a South African, for example, you may be
more comfortable working in such an environment than, say, an American,
Australian or Brit.
Obviously
you’ll want a package which will not only bring you substantially much more
than you earn in your home country, but also compensate you and your family for
the inconveniences such as shipping household possessions and regular trips
back home.
It’s
important to check the following points:
●
What taxes will you have to pay? You may be able to arrange to have part of
your remuneration escape tax by being paid into a bank account you open in a
tax haven. Perhaps you can get your future employer to pay any taxes on your
benefits, or at least to guarantee that you’ll pay no more tax than you would
back home.
●
Will your pay be sufficiently high to compensate for the higher costs of
maintaining in another country the kind of lifestyle that you’re used to?
●
Will the employer make any contribution towards your costs of moving household
and personal possessions to where you’re going to work?
●
Will your pay incorporate a “hardship premium” if you’re going to work in one
of the less pleasant countries?
●
Will you be offered “rest and relaxation” benefits such as periodic free
flights to attractive resorts in other countries?
●
What living accommodation will be available? Will it be provided and/or
subsidized by your employer?
●
Will you have a company car, and if so, on what basis? If not, ask for
compensation.
●
Medical insurance. This is essential, including emergency transportation to an
advanced country if the standard of local care is poor.
●
Your employer should be prepared to pay for private schooling for your
children, either locally or in your home country.
●
What about security? In some locations, if you’re going to hold a senior
position, a driver/bodyguard would be advisable.
●
Insist on free private use of the Internet so you keep easily in touch with
your family, friends, and the outside world.
●
If you’re going to hold a senior position, you may be able to insist on
pre-departure briefings such as those offered by specialist consultancies.
Monday, 5 December 2022
AND EUROPE WILL RISE AGAIN
Sunday, 4 December 2022
THE WORLD'S LARGEST SHOOTING RANGE
WHAT IS BEHIND THE GREAT RESET
Thursday, 1 December 2022
PINK FLOYD comfortably numb
[Verse 1: Roger Waters]
Hello? (Hello, hello, hello)
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me
Is there anyone home?
Come on (Come on, come on), now
I hear you're feeling down
Well, I can ease your pain
And get you on your feet again
Relax (Relax, relax, relax)
I'll need some information first
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts?
There is no pain, you are receding
A distant ship, smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move, but I can't hear what you're saying
When I was a child, I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons
Now I've got that feeling once again
I can't explain, you would not understand
This is not how I am
[Chorus: David Gilmour]
I have become comfortably numb
[Guitar Solo 1]
[Chorus: David Gilmour]
Zelensky is this much vaunted and supposed democrat, but he has more in common with the autocrats of the Kremlin.
He closed down three critical media stations, gaoled the leader of the country’s second largest political party as well as banning 11 opposition parties and the largest Orthodox Church in the Ukraine, as well as threatening anyone belonging to any non-approved religious body.
Do democrats behave is such a way? No they don't, though The West is having democratic difficulties, but Putin does and a number of other despotic leaders of former Soviet republics do.