Friday was my last day in my current post, after memorable 14 years …
Yes, quite an ‘end of an era‘ and I’m not sure that it has entirely sunk in as yet. Even now, sitting in a house that resembles a florist shop with enough wine, fizz and whiskey in the cupboard to last me until Christmas my head doesn’t fully know what to make of it all. I imagine that particular reality will strike home as I begin training for a new challenge at the end of August and find myself, ever so completely, out of my comfort zone for the first time in a decade!
But, whilst the location and the colleagues will change, I shall continue working with young people. I got some amazing letters from pupils this term and I think it sort of hit me like a thunderbolt that, for some of them at least, I was ‘that teacher‘; the one who inspires, who builds up, who encourages them to be more that they dreamed possible and who is never forgotten. And that feels phenomenal, such a privilege and … unbelievable! Because when you set out on a career path, you never quite know how it is going to turn out.
And the same is very much true of parenting too.
Yes, back at home we are also fast approaching the end of an era. Small boy has finished his A levels and, with everything crossed (because Physics paper 2 was an abomination), plans to head off to university in the Autumn. Gracious me; when I started my last job he was nervously lining up outside Reception class and now… on the verge of setting out into a new life in a new city.
And he is a great kid, as are my girls, which also hit me the other evening. Because, who can predict what type of parent any of us are destined to be? I know I have made lots of mistakes, I could fill several posts with all them all, but nonetheless when I look at my lovely offspring, with their kind and caring ways, I’ll confess I feel pretty proud of myself as a mum too.
Yep, over the last 14 years, I’ve not done at all badly either at work or at home. So here’s to a ‘little bit of new’ mixed with ‘a good portion of carrying on‘ as I look ahead to the next stage of life’s big adventure…
Invest, save or spend? Cash or crypto? Stick to the budget.. or ‘live for the moment’? In a cost of living crisis, managing money has never seemed more bewildering. But what to teach our kids…and when?
That’s what I’m challenged to think about in the ‘Money Matters’ talk at the Ilkley Literature Festival this weekend. The engaging speakers, from the Bank of England and the Financial Times, know their stuff and breathe life into what could have been a very dry hour.
Both are passionate about having financial education on the school curricula, which I am happy to report is already in place, usually delivered during personal development lessons. And there are some terrific projects out there; at my place of work, these have been so popular that annual feedback from pupils consistently asks for more input in this area.
The growth of creative ideas to interest pupils in thinking about economics is most welcome. Rishi Sunak may think that school is the place enable teenagers to “feel confident” with …. things like mortgage deals. More experienced educators however, who in previous years were tasked with dragging a room of 14 year-olds through a grim hour of ‘fixed rate’ or ‘interest only’ deals for first time buyers, would argue that this suggestion misses the most valuable of marks. If you want school children to listen… make it relevant!
And the financial gurus in Ilkey chime fervently with this. Of course, teach about saving and borrowing; with money in short supply, the temptation to ‘buy now and pay later’ is a real danger for young people. But (and it is a big BUT) do it in relation to something that pupils are interested in. As an example, the experts addressing the Ilkey gathering, tell us that, for one teacher in Wales this was Hair Extensions; Nicola Buter’s innovate lesson, addressing the complex world of finance, loans and interest, winning her the Interactive Investor Personal Finance Teacher of the Year Award.
Nicola Butler: winner of Interactive Investor Personal Finance Teacher of the Year Award 2021
A quick google search also yields a wealth of advice on financial first steps for toddlers and teenagers. Of course Martin Lewis is there. As early as 2007, his Teen Cash Class, promoted the use of key mantras when working with young people to break the ‘impulse buying cycle’. To be honest it is useful for anyone! When contemplating a spur of the moment buy, ask yourself,
Do I need it?
Can I afford it?
Can I get it cheaper somewhere else
The conclusion to this chapter is particularly thought-provoking and I’ll certainly be both internalising it … as well as sharing it with my offspring,
‘If I were able to give you back all the money you’ve ever spent buying things on impulse, would you take the cash and hand over the stuff?’
There is guidance for younger children too, for whom finance usually means small amounts of pocket money. Barclays Bank, as one example among many, have designed a nice set of pocket money activities called ‘How to teach your child about money’
So engaging, fun and time-relevant for our children? Is that problem solved? Alas no, there is a snag! At some point, many will have to grapple with mortages, debts, pensions and bills. Some may be in a position to think of investments too. So when do we teach them about this? And, being honest, how many of us would actually feel equipped to do so?
For me, adult education is no different to that of school children; it needs to be relevant. Otherwise, finance can simply be a huge bore. So any advice is best received when it is needed. Hence, in many situations, that means after leaving school. So who do adults turn to?
‘Martin Lewis‘ I hear you cry, and, absolutely – the man is amazing! We could also read books and try to wade through the financial newspapers. However, can we do better than this? Many of these topics are complex and would benefit from a more interactive delivery and discussion. So here’s my question. On this most grown-up of issues, could and should FE/HE providers and employers make that contribution to our financial education?
Can companies deliver impartial training on pensions for all new employees? Should potential first time buyers be mandated to complete a free course, designed by the lenders, on managing a mortgage, looking at tips such as ‘over-payment’ to reduce the debt? How much guidance can we expect from universities about living on a student loan? How about challenging the DWP to design lessons on ‘surviving on benefits‘ or ‘escaping the poverty trap‘? And as for crypto …!
Questions questions questions! I set out in this this post to explore when to tell our kids about money matters. Isn’t the truth that in an ever-changing world, our leaders also need to think about what and when to tell all of us about this most important of areas?
Improved financial literacy cannot all be addressed with a couple more years of mathematics on the school curriculum. Additionally, some guidance would be more engaging to people now at a stage in life when the information is pertinent. Surely some well thought out work-based education be the best place for input? It could reduce financial stress, contribute to a more prosperous society … hey, we could even educate our children better. Wouldn’t that be a win for everyone?
I am channeling my inner ‘Romy and Michele’, as July kicks off with, a school reunion…
It is not the first time school have held such gatherings, but it is the first one I have been to. Why I have always swerved them in the past? I’m not entirely sure!
Was I not curious? Was I not tempted to ‘show off’? ‘Was I not drawn the to chance to re-live my youth?’ These are, some of, the reasons the RGS Foundation cite in their article ‘Top 10 reasons you should attend your old school reunion’. But I have to confess to none of these emotions. I’ve always been pretty successful at keeping in contact with my closest school pals, plus we now have social media to widen friendship groups further, so the classmate contact feels already in place.
What about the building themselves then? Retreading the corridors with their memories and ghosts? Sitting in your former classroom and feeling yourself racing back in time? Triggers to old traditions and long-forgotten routines? As another writer, penning on the topic of reunions puts it,
You can explore the hallways, classrooms, and other parts of the school, which can bring back a flood of emotions and nostalgia.
Sorry, but this isn’t me either, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, life’s twists and turns, have brought back in my home town and my children have all attended my old school for their sixth-form studies. So, via inductions, open days and parental evenings, I’ve gradually re-built my recollections of the lovely old buildings and gracious grounds…what’s left of them that is. Because, secondly, there has been so much building and expansion that ‘my school’ of the 1980s is barely recognisable in places.
So why do I go this time?
Well clearly not for any of the usual reasons. Above all, readers, I have reached the glorious 50s, a decade when you joyfully realise that you no longer give ‘two penn’orth’ for the opinions of others but you do welcome a social event on the midweek calendar. I sign up because one of my oldest friends, who now lives far away, announces that she is going to attend and I think… ‘this sounds like fun!’
And that is exactly what it turns out to be.
As the great day dawns, I race home from work, just in time to fling open the front door, welcome my visitor and … open a bottle of fizz. Two glasses down, we grab a uber into town and head through the school gates into a foyer of: canapes, bucks fizz and a bustle of ‘old girls.’ Amidst the crowds we find other members of our class, listen to some speeches, potter around the school, laugh over our old class register and then…head for the pub.
It is great to see everyone and catch-up, face to face. Wonderful women, funny and smart, who are living life with all its ups and downs, (mostly ups). And it is hilarious to look back together; the infamous ‘ouija board’ affair, some notable vocal performances, old romances, the occasional teacher-crush and we find that, whilst we can still parrot off each other’s childhood landline numbers, nobody can agree on who our fourth year form tutor was!
It’s also just nice to let my hair down over a few drinks. Well, I say a few but as we stumble back into the house, my sober offspring later tell me, I am doing impressions of my brothers and reminiscing about the day Elvis died ! I still cannot remember much of that and, ruefully concede that I should probably have heeded Women’s Health’ s school reunion tip number 10, “Go Easy on the Alcohol!”
The next day, thankfully a planning away-day, is not my finest hour. But, on balance, I decide, very much worth it. Were school days the ‘best days of my life’? Well, whether they were or were not, that is definitely the most fun I’ve had on a Thursday evening ‘school night’ for a very long time. Here’s to the next time ladies …
I do like a half term! A little bit like a the starter in a three course meal, or the John Lewis advert before a lengthy Christmas movie, it is the small perfectly formed feature of the school holiday calendar. Too short for procrastination and wasting time, there’s nothing for it but to have some great days out… even if all of mine seem to involve red wine!
Rest assured; I hold off on the Merlot until at least midday!
The days dawn with Duolingo! Despite much searching, I have admitted defeat in my quest to find a face to face German class and have instead downloaded the Duolingo app. Confess, I must, to a rapid descent into obsession… by day three, I am number two on the leader board. The top spot, well its only a matter of time…
My second morning quest; being a super-mum. Yes, Small boy and I have different half terms, and so I set my alarm, for 7:30 am each morning (still a luxurious lie-in) and run him to college. For me, this is actually quite a treat. When my trio were little, I did do some playground parent duties but ex-hub left when all three were under 8 and ever since, I’ve been fully-working, frantic mum, hurling primary-age kids into pre-school clubs, before tearing up the motorway to work and entrusting in the fate of their school travel to TfGM from the moment they hit high school. So this week, a relaxed start for us both, (some mornings we even manage breakfast) followed by a convivial chat on the 20 minute journey to lesson 1, makes us smile.
As the clock chimes noon however, it is often time for me to head out and catch-up with my fabulous friends. I do afternoon tea, in the middle of Manchester with a bottle of Montepulciano and whisky chasers. I do a tapas lunch with large glasses of Merlot and so much laughter that the waitress comes over to check that we are ok and to share the joke. And finally, oh finally I discover the newest delights of Oxford Road, when I meet one of my friends after work.
Firstly, there’s his snazzy new offices, amidst the eateries and mini outdoor ‘symphony’ space of Circle Square, after which we wander to Hatch, a lively set of bars and food stalls unashamedly housed below the concrete bridges and flyovers of the 20th century road system. We enjoy some lovely ‘natural wine’ and catch-up on on January news, before heading to astonishing Kimpton Tower Hotel.
Wow – the place is incredible. Housed in a magnificent terracotta Grade II–listed building, Kimpton Clocktower has a history that dates back to 1890, when the building first opened as The Refuge Assurance Company headquarters. Today, it’s a stylish hotel, with a killer bar. It gives me such ‘Raffles Hotel’ vibes that I reach for the cocktail menu and find, not a Singapore, but a ‘Salford Sling’. Utterly delicious and the Victorian architecture is so amazing that some small detail takes my attention every 5 minutes. I will definitely be back.
Regrettably, half term is now drawing to a close, so I shall also soon be back to work and the dreaded 6am wake-up call. Am I looking forward to that? I really cannot say that I am. Nonetheless, whilst there is still nothing to rival the sparkle and magic of my Christmas holiday, this was a really nice half-term and and a chance to remember that there is far more to life than ‘eat, sleep work, repeat’…
This Thursday, the gentle giant, affectionately know as Smallboy, collects his GCSE results … and they are cracking!
The entire squad bundles down to school for support, crammed into my Eldest’s 3-door car, (alas, Windsor is recovering from an encounter with a bollard in Bolton … a story for another day) because, that is what we do and because we get it. Get the pressure of high expectation from: school, friends, family. Everyone expecting you to have done well, to have ‘sailed through‘ to have ‘smashed it’. It is a lot to bear at the age of 16 and the car journey is pretty quiet.
Our phone clocks move to 09:00. The school doors open. Off he goes and, after 3 years of blessed GCSE respite, it is ‘welcome back’ to that tortuous wait in the car for me! Smallboy later tells me that,
I kind of knew it had gone well mum because as I went through the doors one of the teachers told me to ‘wait behind at the end for a photograph’
But there is none of this reassurance for those left outside. Stomach churning, I waive aside my daughters’ suggestions of ‘music‘ or ‘playing a game‘. I try some experimental ‘positive chanting’ but soon fall back upon the familiar and am completing my fourth decade of the rosary when we see him ambling across the carpark, giving us a shy thumbs up and hopping back into the front seat.
It is simply a super set of grades! He gives a modest shrug, his face breaks into a smile, I ruffle his curly locks and we head off for a Maccies breakfast to celebrate.
And so, as a parent, my encounter with GCSE examinations, revision and results days comes to an end. Three very different experiences, not so much with the results days but with the examination period itself. This final one, without doubt, the most laid back and … let me get down with the kids and say, ‘chilled’ ever. Few dramas and a very relaxed (which I found alarming on occasion) approach to revision. Typically, I’d arrive home and open with,
Have you started revision yet? You’ve got Chemistry tomorrow
To which my son would usually reply along the lines of,
Don’t stress mother, it’s only 7pm… plenty of time!
I did put my foot down about mid-week socialising but he still went out most weekends. I also supported the schools insistence on attendance and did not consent to my son’s pleas to ‘phone and ask for study leave’.
Did any of it make a jot of difference? I guess we shall never know. But, on supporting school policy, I was never going to budge. I am unspeakably grateful to our local high school for many things and this includes the knowledge, the love of learning and the encouragement to aim high that they have instilled in all three of my offspring. I cannot thank them enough for this because, as a single parent, life is a tough old trek and self-doubt always only a thought away. Their resolute input has, without question shielded my trio from my lone-mum fears of ‘daring to hope’ and contributed to them becoming just lovely young people, with amazing friends and bright futures. So rather than questioning any edicts over the years I have been happy to trust and that has certainly paid off.
So let’s finish this post where we started with the one and only Small boy. Enrolled at sixth-form and starting an exciting new chapter. Well done son, you enjoy this moment …
Today is Prom-dress daughter’s results day and, if last year, results day for my eldest marked my D-Day as a single parent, then this year’s seems a great time to reflect upon how far we have come, as a family unit, in 2019.
The drive to school is still tense, and that’s not just because my eldest is at the learner-driver wheel. The GCSE exam month is a tough and relentless grind for most pupils, and for Prom-dress daughter it was no exception. The highest stakes and the highest emotion, came with subjects she really cared about, and here papers often seemed to be ‘a disaster’ or ‘just awful’. (We certainly got through a lot of emergency chocolate in May and June!) In consequence, she is on edge about some key results, and her young face is etched with worry. To my surprise however, I feel far less stressed than I did 12 months ago, for a number of reasons.
After last year, I resolved never again to assume that everyone else’s children would do better than mine. More importantly this year, I find that I haven’t given anyone else’s children a second thought – it’s just about my lovely girl and her future plans for me today. And Prom-dress daughter has a number of qualities that calm my nerves as we jolt towards the school carpark. Firstly, she has a quick and clever mind and doesn’t tend to write or burble nonsense under pressure. I feel pretty certain that in many subjects, things cannot have gone as badly as she fears. Secondly, as with my eldest, her teachers have consistently predicted good results, and this year I have the confidence to trust this. And finally, life, particularly the demands of our single parent household and coping with serious asthma, has made her tough. I know that she will not go to pieces if some grades are a little lower than she wanted. There will be a way forward. Of course there will, GCSE results don’t define us ….
However, as she disappears into school… I do suddenly really want to know what those results are and the familiar old jitters start to return. I am struggling to concentrate on anything when we get the ‘thumbs up’ emoji. And that is enough…if she’ happy then I’m happy. More than happy in fact. As she bursts from the school, her face radiant with delight, and a smile that seems to last forever, I am truly thrilled for her. Today, me and my trio of teens, feel like an unbeatable team. It’s time to celebrate …
Wednesday 2 January 2019 This blog may be a New Years Resolution, but a notable D-Day for me actually came back in August, my first GCSE results day as a parent….
D-Day!
After very little sleep, my eldest and I set off to school. As she dived into the babbling crowd of teenagers heading inside, I was left in the carpark, with only anxiety and panic for company. I was unsettled and on edge, with scenarios to deal with delight or utter despair racing around my mind in frantic flashing images.
Children began to emerge; some waving results slips aloft and punching the air in triumph; others in tears hurrying to the anonymity of a parent’s car, results in brown envelopes, hidden from view. The contrast was shocking. I felt completely sick. Would I hold it together if my daughter, who had worked her socks off, was one of the inconsolable ones? I swiped and scrolled my phone like a lunatic. No messages. Did I dare to send one? No I did not! I turned the radio on, turned it off. I said a prayer. Then came a text
“Should be out soon, sorry for the delay!“
I bit my lip and risked a reply
“Any news? …….. “
“All good” flashed onto the screen, and I began to breathe again!
But it was moments later, as my daughter slipped back into the car, and handed me her results that I got my single-parent wake up call. A sea of top grade 9s and the occasional grade 8, swam across the page. Her results weren’t just good…they were phenomenal!! And I hadn’t expected that. I realised, with a jolt, that I really hadn’t expected it. I had assumed that the very top grades simply weren’t for us. They were for children from ‘other families’. Households, I’d probably invented in my head, where one parent seminared through Science revision, whilst the other dashed off a few French flashcards. Homes where a duo of parents balanced exam tuition with time for nutrition, nurture and well being. Simply put, children from families where day in day out, there was more adult time and input to share out than I could ever hope to manage. I had trapped myself into believing that, whilst we did ‘our best’, we would always fall a little short of where we might have been as a two-parent unit.
Thankfully one person hadn’t done this, my amazing daughter. Determined, driven and totally focused upon her own goals, as opposed to worrying about anyone else, she had set about simply smashing those GCSEs. And she is my inspiration for 2019. No more worrying about everyone else for me. Hard work and focus, not family background, enable you aim high and chase your dreams. It’s more than time for me to forget seeing single parenthood, as the poor relation of the family unit, and start smashing it. Here goes ….
Smashing Single Parenthood 