We Love Casual Abuse.

We love casual abuse in this country or at least it feels like it.

I am leaving my school after six years, for another school. I feel oppressed- depressed- and one of the reasons is the casual abuse I’ve had in the last six years. Only a very few kids do this. It should be a piece of cake to deal with but, the top brass,  it’s not on their radar. Why? I don’t get it.

“Don’t take it personally,”  people say. Eh? What other nonsense do you want to come out with? “It doesn’t matter who started it”? Of course it bloody does!

Is there something wrong with me? I like most kids and they like me. Why is it OK for a few to abuse teachers?

I think there is something wrong with me.

Help Me

Something is wrong with me. A small thing is worrying me- it’ll probably come to nothing- but I can’t get over it.

And I can’t get away. Everything I look at on the Internet is logged. There are CCTV cameras everywhere. I am feeling 20 years of emotions all at once: compassion, grief, desire, guilt, sadness and more. My head is buzzing and I feel sick.

There are two worlds: in one world, you can explore feelings, talk and make mistakes. The other is a world of contracts where certain wrongdoings are like a heart attack: the end. I have too much of the latter and not enough of the former.

I need help, and I need to be brave.

People need help

The older I get, the more I think people need help, not condemnation.

I’ve been a teacher for nearly 20 years.  I’m average, which is to say, quite good, I take my job seriously and I want to do it well but I don’t think I’m especially gifted or talented.

I haven’t always got on well with hostile teenage boys.  I’ve probably felt threatened by them.  I’m slowly coming to the conclusion that their behaviour means something.  Were they unhappy when they were three?  They would not have been able to express it-  but it has to come out.  It comes out in my classroom.

I would like to help them.   “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle,” said Plato.

When these boys-  and girls-  are twenty-five, or fifty-five, I’d like them to look back on me and think, “At least he tried to understand and help, even if he failed.”

That, and other things, would make it worth getting out of bed in the morning.

The guilt of the absent father

Aha!  Welcome back, my old “friend”: Guilt.

I prepare to go on holiday with my wife for nearly two weeks.  My sons are staying at home with their mother (not my wife) with whom they live.  I’ll go away with them after I get back.

Being an absent Dad, I’m riddled with guilt, no more than when the summer holidays come and I leave my boys.

Sometimes, I feel like holidays are something to be got through.

Crohn’s disease and other inflammations

I suffer from mild Crohn’s disease together with a touch of Ankylosing Spondylitis and occasional bouts of uveitis.

The worst thing is the fatigue.  I’m a middle-aged man so should be productive, working hard at my job then coming home to tile the bathroom.  I wish I could!

I’m lucky-  my Crohn’s is mild.  It can be a terrible disease and I feel for people who have it severely.

My diseases sometimes make me melancholy-  is that what used to be called “phlegmatic”?  I’m not sure.  I’m constantly questioning my place in the world.  Happily, I do realise how lucky I am.

Well- off to watch telly.

Azelle Rodney

I’m very preoccupied with the Azelle Rodney case.  Opinion is polarized:  “One less armed drug-dealer on the streets”; “Executed by the police”.

I hold neither of these opinions and think that Azelle Rodney shouldn’t have gone out armed and that the police officer shouldn’t have fired when he did.

I’m so sick of society falling over itself to apologise to armed criminals, or their families.  I take no pleasure in this fella’s death.  We could always just try letting armed drug dealers have their way.  See how we like that.

I understand the importance of having strict rules regarding use of firearms by police.  Some have suggested the officer was racist-  that he had an irrational fear of black people.  Perhaps he had a wholly-rational fear of people with guns.