My Taxes, My Rules

The unseasonally warm weather last week meant that most of the students spent their spare time outside. (I suspect that many of them should have been in lessons but that's another matter). This left the main building feeling like the Mary Celeste with empty corridors and a deserted student lounge. My fellow supervisors thought this was great but I wasn't so sure. I'd rather have them all cooped up inside where I can keep my eye on them.

The alfresco lifestyle brings its own problems. I've had to confiscate footballs and skateboards as well as warning some of them about water pistols and frisbees. There are ample playing fields at the back of the college but the picnic areas seem to be the preferred spaces for larking about. You would think it was a primary school instead of a sixth form college.

There must be something in a teenager's head that makes them query every reasonable request to behave responsibly. Maybe their brains are wired in such a way as to cause them to question everything. Perhaps it's evolution's way of ensuring that the human race progresses and never becomes satisfied with the status quo. Being a firm fan of creativity, I can't really complain too much about their inquisitive nature. I believe, however, that it's important to channel their curiosity into something that is productive rather than rebellious. I'm not a teacher or a student counsellor so I try, in my own small way, to use my experience of the outside world to apprise them of the expected code of conduct. After all, it's our taxes that are paying for their time here.

Caught In The Act

Because of the way the college building has been designed I can look over the balcony from the top floor and see what's going on three floors below. This is very useful when trying to keep an eye on things. I do have to avoid jumping to conclusions though.

A few days ago I was at the Arts Department end of the college. On the ground floor is a theatre and sometimes rehearsals spill out into the corridor outside. I looked down from the fourth floor to see a young lad lying on his back with a girl sitting astride him. Now salacious displays like this have been going on under the stairwells and we've had to put a stop to it but I quickly realised that this was all part of some drama. After a while the lad spotted me staring down at him, threw me a lewd smirk and gave me the thumbs up. He seemed well pleased with his choice of curriculum.

A few days later, from the same vantage point, I spotted some students arranging a few tables together. One of the girls then lay down on top of a large plastic sheet and allowed her colleagues to roll her up inside it and place her precariously across the tables. Curious, I continued watching while a couple of lads read from their scripts. It appears that the girl was meant to interrupt their dialogue by throwing the sheet aside and exclaiming something. Unfortunately, the first thing she saw on bursting out of her cocoon was me, whereupon she forgot her lines and said, “Ooh! There's a man looking at me!”
And there was me thinking that the whole point of being an actor is that you want people to watch you.

A Satisfactory Outcome

A couple I often see around college are quite distinctive in their manner and appearance. I often see them around the recesses and stairwells doing things to each other that really shouldn't be seen in public.

The other day I had to go outside and remind them that smoking is not allowed at the picnic tables and that they should remove themselves to the smokers' area at the corner of the main building just a few yards away. This they did without fuss and I considered that to be the end of the matter.

Less than ten minutes later I spotted them, still smoking, at the same table so I went outside and asked them which part of my original request they hadn't understood. As they had so openly defied me I also asked for their names. The lad mumbled his and I managed to catch it on the second attempt. The girl was more reticent and kept asking me why I wanted this information. My intention was to check the database to see if they had a record of ill discipline but I didn't feel inclined to explain this until she had surrendered the information. A condition of attending the college is that all students respect the staff. Eventually she told me and I went back inside.

About ten minutes later I was in the refectory recalling the incident to my own supervisor when the couple approached us. They wanted to apologise and wondered if I was taking the matter further.

Result!

I told them I had no intention of reporting it any higher and explained that my annoyance was due to their ignoring my original request. My supervisor also explained to them that the college is required in law to have a designated smokers' area and if any student is found in breach of the rules a letter and a fifty pound fine can be sent to their parents. At this they appeared horrified and explained that they had become engaged in a conversation with some other students and had drifted back to the picnic area without realising. A lame excuse I thought but I let it go. I haven't had any more trouble with the pair since.

Moral of the story? No good deed goes unpunished.

I did it. I volunteered and was subsequently elected to run a law school event (hereby coined "LSE"). Said event was to raise money for a good cause, something I constantly thought about as I was organizing said LSE.

Now, for those of you who are not yet familiar with my style, I'm an A personality. I like to meet people. I like to talk to people. I like to be in charge. I also don't mind helping out or delegating, provided things are run in a cohesive manner that doesn't result in my wanting to rip someone's my hair out. For the most part, if something isn't being done properly (or at all), I'd rather just do it myself. It's my nature, and while annoying, it's highly effective (because let's face it--law students aren't exactly the most dependable of people). That being said, if someone is doing their job, then I'm of the mindset to HAVE AT IT.

So....this LSE is technically the pet project of one of the organizations on campus and consists of having to rely upon a shitton of people actually showing up at this event to volunteer. That's strike one, in my opinion. Depending on a group of lawyers and law students to be somewhere to dedicate their time to an altruistic task? UNHEARD OF.

Strike two was the fact that I was working with someone I believe to be Cray-Cray to the Maximus (and by maximus, I mean in my gluteous maximus). My opinion? This crazy coot is out to get me. Fucking great. (And I'm not imagining this shit--we go way back.) Worst part? She acts like she doesn't hate my guts.

So I bust my ass for three weeks, all the while having to deal with backbiting and assholery and general indignities that many would argue are grounds for justifiable homicide. And I take it, because BY GOD, I AM GOING TO DO GOOD FOR CHARITY. I get liquor (since we know that's the main draw). I organize everything. I decorate. I bedazzle.

In short, I rock this goddamn event with every fucking fiber of my fabulous glitter-emoting body.

It was a success, although the event didn't raise nearly as much money as I would have liked (let's just say this--with the hours I put in, I'd have liked a feast thrown in my honor, with a roast beast).

So, where is strike three, you are wondering? Well, friends, that came after the event. When CrayCray scheduled a meeting to discuss the event. The event SHE DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING ATTEND. In all actuality, it was a "Let's Shit on Dr. Juris" meeting. And SHIT THEY DID. Comments like "undermining authority" (when I was in charge, mind you) and "poor time management" (when everything was accomplished and rocked out with its proverbial....well, you know what I mean) were thrown around with great relish. At the end of said meeting, I was told I would have to hand over all my notes and intellectual property associated with the event for next year's planning.

I am waiting for the perfect moment to crush these audacious demands didn't have the heart to tell them I had deleted it all with a thank you Lerd and good riddance.

No really, my heart is three sizes too small.....and I'm pretty sure it's not going to experience a miraculous growth spurt any time soon.

Probably the best email I had with regard to this event was a professor who was helping out: I'll stick to what they gave me and frequently remind myself that it's for a good cause. To which I replied:

That's what I've been doing for the past two weeks. 

Can Children See Ghosts?

 I have often heard it said that children are more in touch with the paranormal than adults.  Children are certainly more receptive to the idea of ghosts than adults and ghost stories can spread through a group of children like wildfire.   One could argue, that children are more open to the wanderings of imagination than adults and that they are prone to believe in many fictional things with a fiery passion.  They lack the skepticism that has grown in a more mature mind and they are prone to report encounters with the paranormal because of these factors.  Yet, my new baby has recently made me revisit the question of children and ghosts.

My little one spends a considerable amount of time staring at nothing and laughing and smiling.  He'll stare at a spot on the couch that is empty or a place behind my head where nothing is happening.   I have to ask myself, is it possible he sees things I don't see?  I found an interesting study on Ghoststudy.com that evaluated the very questions I have had.  The study was done by Nicole Leader who presented several surveys to parents of children of various ages in order to determine if children were in fact more receptive to the paranormal world than adults and if so, at what ages does this ability peak and fade.    The results of the study found that most parents did believe their children were more receptive to the paranormal and that children's encounters with ghosts usually began between the ages of six months and 4 years. Children seem to be naturally born with the ability to see and communicate with ghosts, according to this research.   The study also found that over time children cease to communicate with the other side. A few children maintain their abilities into adulthood, but this is rare. The researcher believes that this may be caused not only by a lessening of ability to communicate with the other side but also by parents steady discouragement of such communication.    The research also found that children most commonly have contact with the ghosts of deceased loved ones.  If you would like to read the entire study you can at http://ghoststudy.com/new8/studies/children.htm .

Another paper I read discussed a child psychologist who indicated that at least a third of his patients believe they see ghosts (Mark Hall via HubPages.com).  This paper focused more on the terror created by children's connection to the other side and ways to banish such terror.   If what it suggests were true, perhaps the reason children have a more profound fear of the dark is because they are more able to sense the unseeable spirits that lurk in the shadows.  As adults, we have shed our connections with the other side and have lost our fear of things we can no longer sense.

   When I worked as a child therapist, I certainly found that children are sensitive to many things that adults have learned to tune out.  Children are deeply observant on a level adults are not.  They lack the inner dialogue that distract adults from being completely present in the now and that opens them up to observations adults, who are lost in their own thoughts, are not able to make.  For example,  if I saw eight children and their parents in one day, every child would notice and comment on my new tattoo while most adults would just focus on the business that had brought them into my office.   To me, this very trait in children would make them more open to encounters with the paranormal.

I'm not alone in this belief, any kind of review on the topic of children and ghosts seems to show a consensus that if ghosts are real, children see them more frequently and are more open to them than adults.  What does this mean?  It means that if your child is afraid of the dark or says there's a monster in the closet, maybe next time you shouldn't completely ignore them.  Maybe they are just seeing something you can't and hearing whispers you are unable to understand.

There May Yet Be Hope

I was in the student lounge on the top floor when I spotted a lad who I've had confrontations with in the past. I was certain he should be a lesson at that time so I checked on the database and found that to be the case. I decided not to challenge him until I was sure. Sometimes we get fobbed off with 'I'm feeling ill', 'I don't have to be there', 'I'm doing coursework' etc.

I went down to the ground floor and checked with the teacher.
“Yes he should be here,” she said. “And I'm pretty angry with him.”
“Would you like me to drag his sorry carcass down here?” I asked.
“Yes and tell him from me he's in for a damn good bollocking.” (Her exact words.)
I vowed to do my best, bearing in mind that this particular chap is quite a large individual, has been quite surly with me and the other supervisors and sometimes looks like he might get violent.

I found him still in the lounge sitting with his mates. I was quite prepared for him to refuse to cooperate, in which case I would have to point out he would be making things worse for himself. It also crossed my mind he might punch me.
“Mr ***, you need to come with me.”
“What's this about?”
“I'll explain on the way.”

To my surprise he followed like a lamb. As soon as we were outside the lounge I informed him.
“Your English teacher sends her regards and is very much looking forward to seeing you.”
At this point he cottoned on and began making his excuses. Apparently they were having a test. He hadn't done the work, was bound to fail and just decided not to turn up.
Then I told him the truth. “Actually, I think she's going to roast your ass.”
I suggested that it would have been better to have seen his teacher and come clean. He admitted that might have been the wiser option.

This was amazing. This was the first proper conversation I'd had with this guy and he seemed quite chatty so I decided to try and connect with him.
“So how is the photography going?” (I know this was on his timetable.)
“I've dropped it. They told me I was no good at it.”
“That's a shame.”
“Well, I didn't do any work for that either and I missed a couple of photo shoots.”
“So what are you concentrating on if not photography and not English either, going by today's evidence?”
“Nothing. I'm leaving at the end of the year. I'm going to be a barber.”
I didn't see that coming. I told him I would be sorry not to have the pleasure of his company next year. I meant that sincerely. I'm sure he could do well at college if he applied himself but maybe he'll make a success in his chosen career. He might even change his mind and stay on – just to confound me. I wished him luck and left him to face his teacher.

Still Loving It

I'm still loving my job at the college and it's giving me an insight into the surprising ways people behave. You expect them to do one thing and they do another. As a writer this is fascinating.

Having spent most of my working life in industry this is a completely new environment for me and I'm having to try and find my own way of coping with the challenges it brings. I've found myself applying the rules and boundaries that I learned while I was a rugby coach and referee. If I ask people to do something (or, more often than not, stop doing something) I expect them to obey more or less straight away. I don't mind them querying my motives but I expect their body language to indicate that they intend to comply with my request. If they just stand their ground and argue the toss this makes me less inclined to be tolerant.

As it is now the Easter holidays I thought I'd share some of the incidents with you over the next few days to give you an idea of what we have to cope with.