London Sooner or Later

Ok. So first off – I have been answering the same questions on a regular basis. Not surprisingly they all correspond to London. So let me settle the score. I will be returning to London – likely soon.
Two weeks ago I was supposed to fly back overseas. The night before my departure, feeling an overwhelming amount of anxiety, I decided to miss my flight. One more donation to Air Canada. Lovely. Unfortunately, I keep recalling the anxiety I felt during the last go, and am now psyching myself out for my return. It’s like that horrible memory that just keeps rearing it’s ugly head – I’m sure this time will be completely different, but what if it isn’t? After a long conversation with my new recruiter, it was mutually decided that I should take more time to figure this whole situation out. It was a good decision – returning to London under those circumstances, with the amount of doubt that I was feeling, would have ultimately broken me.
So two weeks later, I am starting to dread the return (again). I don’t want to go back – to teaching. London, yes. Teaching in London – no. Unfortunately there is a recession, which means a lack of jobs. So that puts me back at square one. A recession sort of seals my fate – I have to go back and teach. Lovely.
That doesn’t mean that it is the end of the road though. I’ve applied to two separate university programs – one in international relations & development and one in international human resources. Ultimately I can’t go to school without the income that teaching provides. It is an evil reality. My other new found reality is that I need to learn – I might be addicted to education. After visiting the Athabasca University website nearly daily for the past month, I have decided to avoid registering for a needless course and actually apply my interest (and money) towards attaining a new credential (that will likely not put my any closer to a job, but like I said, I need to learn). Maybe having something to exercise my mind will also help me to stay in London. Or maybe I’m delusional. That’s more likely the real answer.
Most people would *smartly* give up by this point. There is something that keeps drawing me back to London. I am not finished with the experience, and I haven’t ended it on my own terms yet. I see the benefits of having an international experience, in terms of both professional and personal growth. Plus I want to go to Morocco, Malta, Tunisia, etc, etc, etc, and the best way to do that is to work in London. Travelling Leanne always wins.

Rerecruitment and Sexing a Thesis

I am presently praying that I am hired by an agency that I was interviewed by last week. It is sort of my dream agency. After having spent time with two other agencies, and having researched countless others, I have developed a fairly decent “bullsh*t” detector. This new agency is run by a recruiter who has not only taught in London, but did so for three years! I have become accustomed to the generic answers that recruiters give – and let me tell you, it can be highly frustrating. Promise are made, and my “best interests are always at heart”. This recruiter has impressed me because she doesn’t give the “everything is merry in England” answers. She knows that I know that this isn’t the case. So I am praying – I want to get back to England before I become too comfortable at home (and it is starting!). I also want to get back to work. I’m bored. No, not really bored…just missing money. I also miss acting like a grown up everyday. When I went to work in London I felt like I was playing dress up – let’s face it, I don’t dress professionally in Thunder Bay. In London I got to play with clothes and scarves (the art of pashmina)…oh…and heels. I’m not sure that it’s a good thing that at 28 I still see getting “dressed up for work” as playing grown up, but whatever works, right?

In the mean time this new agency has introduced me to teachers.tv and I am completely addicted. I am particularly addicted to “Teaching with Bayley”. John Bayley is an education consultant who was ranked as outstanding by OFSTED (and has nothing to do with Iris Murdoch as far as I know!); and let me tell you, I am pretty impressed. After having more insight into the world of British classrooms by way of these programs, I am feeling a bit more at ease. The recruiter told me that if I watch one of these videos daily, I will be a far better teacher for it – I’m watching a lot more than one on a daily basis, because I am hooked! Along with the Bayley videos are countless others, dealing in a full range of topics (thankfully behaviour management as well!). teachers.tv also has a full section for NQTs (which technically I am not an NQT to UK standards, but I am in Canadian standards – don’t worry, I understand what I am trying to say!)…anyway, all I am saying is that teachers.tv is a good resource. Especially during moments of procrastination and lately there have been plenty of those moments.

Oh yeah, and I’m still dealing with my thesis. He (because my thesis is now an individual) and I still don’t really like one another. In a month I have only successfully completed a partial rewrite of the chapter that I previously written. Progress is slow and interest is waning. I still love bison, and I love studying bones – it is writing about either topic that is a problem for me. Every time I sit down to write, I feel like I’ve been condemned to prison. Unfortunately I cannot apply to the University of Liverpool until I am finished my sentence.

All I know is that my thesis is coming to England with me – yay, more luggage. I also know that when I do go back to overseas, its going to be a very fast return – none of this booking a ticket two months in advance crap – nope, I know what to do when I get there now. I have experience (who’d of thought?). Hoping this agency likes me (please!), I sort of know when I’m heading back over, and truth be told, I can’t wait!!!!!!

Thunder Bay Stagnate

Guess where I am? HA! Ya, Starbucks. Guess what I should be doing? Yup…my thesis. I have this amazing mental block when it comes to my thesis. I see the end result, but I have trouble focussing on it. I know what needs to get done, but for some reason I look at it like a prison term. Or like the flu. You know when you are sick, and can’t leave the house? That is what my thesis makes me feel like; like I am sick and cannot leave house. It is some sort of punishment. The worst part about this punishment is that I inflicted myself with it.

I have started the inevitable job hunt. In typical fashion, I have remembered that I hate customer service. No – not customer service, per se; I hate having to deal with a**holes (Leanne has a fight or flight mentality and unfortunately fight is the usual response). When challenged by students, I tend not to care, and can slough it off. When confronted with b*tching customers (adults) it is another story. Yet, I like to work in adult worlds; unfortunately those worlds are within academia, and research – logical places, where I can deal with people in some logical fashion. In customer service the individuals who are the craziest have absolutely no logic. Or at least, no developed sense of rationalization.

When I came home I realized that I needed to remember what drove me into education. And little by little I am having those glimmers of insight. Aside from the financial and vacation incentives, there was something more that brought me into teaching. Ok, teaching still isn’t one of those long term aspirations. But here it is – I think the reason that I have trouble committing to teaching is because of the homework. University killed the desire to bring work home with me at the end of the day. And here is the thing – I push myself (believe me I do, even if the past few months haven’t been a reflection of that!). A job that should take an hour ends up taking three. I am also fearful of screwing up students. What if I teach the information wrong? What if I don’t have the answer? Yes and I realize that most teachers don’t really have the answers.

Every day, as I am confronted by the reality of being back here, I can’t wait to get back to England. I want to go back to teaching, and want to try different schools. And take a contract. Of my available career options, teaching is the best one going. And maybe that is how people arrive at their careers – they evaluate what they have open to them, and decide which option is the least of the perceived evils. Of my available options, teaching is the least of the evils.
Oh and as for the title of this blog – if you are wondering why it is still London Lost, when I’m not longer in London…I am still London Lost – and the day I change it is the day that I give up on going back. Right now, I am not giving up because when I do, I will be reaffirming my complacency.

Sex, German and Alcohol

Like clockwork, Friday has arrived again. Amazing how that happens, isn’t it? Could a week have already passed since my dungeon-esque experience?

As I am staying in a hostel, and I have to get up early, I do most of my “primping” in the hallway outside of the room. Careful not to disturb anyone’s beauty sleep, I spend my mornings displaced. This morning, while sitting on the stairs applying my makeup, I happened to catch an early morning show. Ok, rather I heard an early morning show. Obviously the rooms next to the bathrooms are doubles. Needless to say, I sat there, rather uncomfortable, while a woman expressed her appreciation for her boyfriend. While blow drying my hair, a man staggered out of the room, in a deep post-coital flush, looking highly surprised to see me.

He looks at me… “You realize that hair dryer is loud. I thought something was going on out here in the hall.”
I looked at him, slightly amused (obviously he did not realize that I had overheard his morning romp).
“Really? I apologize that my hair dryer is loud. I was merely trying to block out the sound of your girlfriend.”


Truthfully I didn’t end with the last bit, but I was really tempted. I was just so surprised that he was complaining to me about my hair dryer, when he and his girlfriend could have competed with an orchestra. Needless to say, later in the day when several of my students were mimicking sex noises, I immediately started to laugh. Oh, and for the record – he appears to be a Two Minute Man (if you know what I mean).

Today was another thrilling day of behaviour management. In my never ending pursuit of classes that I should never teach, I would like to add German to the list. How I ended up teaching German is beyond me – but I did. My students quickly realized that my German is limited to “do you speak German?” and swear words. I did try and read the course manual, but that really didn’t help.

“Miss, if we fail the exam, it is going to be because of this lesson and because you can’t speak German. I am complaining to my mother.”
“You go right ahead, and I will mention to your mother that you are going to fail because you are a lazy complainer, who has done absolutely nothing since arriving in class. And since I have also taught you in other classes, I will mention that you are about as useful as a third tit in your other classes, as well”

Ok, again I did not say that. But sometimes it is so tempting.

I also had the opportunity to confiscate a mobile phone. This led to drama, but such is life in an all-girls school. The girl who’s phone I confiscated gave me a fair amount of lip.

Several voices popped up throughout the room: “Miss, it is entirely inappropriate how she is talking to you.”
“Really? You should have thought about that five minutes ago when you were speaking to me in the same manner.”
You just have to love the blame game.


Two periods of German led into two periods of French. Luckily I am workable in French. We survived.

Finally, my day culminated with a Product Development class. Truthfully, by this point, I was so tired I didn’t really care. As long as there was paperwork on every desk, and the perception that work was occurring, I wasn’t going to argue.

After work, I stopped by my agency to file my pay sheet and say my good byes. And to promise that I would be back next year after my thesis is finished. After a rather large glass of wine, I also promised that I would be willing to take a long-term contract next year. Seeing that I was willing target (a drunk and willing target) they asked if I would help them do some promotional work at a career fair in my hometown. Sure?!?! Why not!??!?!?! Give me alcohol, and I’ll give you the world.

As I left the school today, I did feel a pang of sadness. I am not ready to leave England, but realize I have to. Right now, still blissfully buzzed from the wine, I am content. Packing up is such an inconvenience. Having to readjust to home life is an inconvenience. And I hate inconvenience.

Makeup & Pregnancy Tests

Today I returned from the classroom, to be greeted by a very friendly Australian, who is currently cohabitating in the same room. Exhausted from her travels throughout the UK, she quickly asked me:
“Do you like London? I don’t really like it here.”
My response: “It’s not my favourite place in the world.”
“It’s just so unfriendly!” she responded, with some relief.
I smiled knowingly. “Everyone here is just sad…”…and some days, that is what it feels like.

I spent another glorifying day in the classroom. Yes, a touch of sarcasm. I am exhausted and my feet ache. I am still not used to the idea of teaching in heals – grin and bear it, right?

My day was comprised of four periods of science and one period of English. Truthfully English should have been a breeze; it’s a subject that I actually enjoy (mainly because it doesn’t require a lot of brain power, and as long as you can muster some sort of abstract thought, it is a doable subject; plus I spend most of my time in abstract thought!). English as it turned out, was hell. What should have been a thrilling period of watching the DiCaprio-Danes version of Romeo & Juliet, turned into a classroom management nightmare. My classroom quickly transformed into a make shift beauty school – at one point I was actually gagging on the perfume. I do not know why teenage girls believe that makeup looks best when it is caked in suppressive layers, but I would like to say that the Year 10 class is singlehandedly keeping Revlon, Rimmel (etc) in business. I am actually impressed by their over-the-top beauty skills. I would fall over if I had that much weight and pressure applied directly to my face. Luckily the amount of hair product that they apply apparently keeps them upright.

Frustrated by the makeup situation I asked another teacher:
“What do you do about the makeup situation? It is beginning to irritate me.”
The teacher…a young man…looked at me just as helplessly.
“Well…ya…basically it is up to the forum tutor to make sure that it is confiscated.”
“Huh. That’s helpful.”
His answer was a knowing smile.

Science posed other challenges. I had what was described as a “difficult” class. Luckily the “difficult” class had a practical assignment. The assignment was fairly basic – take your temperature with a thermometer.

“Miss, these themometers look like pregnancy tests.”
I hadn’t actually noticed the similarity. Furthermore I am concerned that a 15 year old girl was so quick to point out the similarity.
We soon realized that there were not enough tests…thermometers to go around…

“Miss, I will go and ask Mr.HeadofDepartment for some more pregnancy tests.”
“That’s a good idea. Please refrain from calling them pregnancy tests to his face.”

Today I decided that it was time to answer one of my more perplexing questions. Many of the girls have their boyfriend’s names written on their hands…I love Johnny…Dave + Suzy forever. Even at 15 I never felt the inspiration to etch a boy’s name into my hand. So I ask:
“If I write my boyfriend’s name on my hand, does that make it official?”
Naturally, I received a bunch of blank stares.
“Miss, what do you mean?”
“Well I have noticed that most girls have their boyfriend’s names written on their hands. Is that some way of making it official? Should I do the same?”
“Oh Miss, its just silly to write your boyfriend’s name on your hand.”
I am still clueless.

I will say that there are various topics that I do not like to hear about in my class. Unfortunately working in an all-girls school comes with a certain amount of drama. As a cover teacher there are various things that I do not want to hear about. Sex and alcohol are two of those topics that I prefer to not have discussed in my presence. Though, I am shocked by the knowledge of thirteen and fourteen year old students. Please keep it out of my classroom – at 28 there are things that I don’t want to know. Periodically I feel tempted to stagger across the field that separates the girl’s school from the boy’s school – surely there can’t be as much drama in a boy’s school. I do have a theory about the makeup though – I have realized that at break the girls must go and press their faces up against the chain-link fence and ogle the boys. In order to diminish the appearance of the chainlink imprints, they are forced to reapply their makeup - repeatedly.

Finally, much to my delight, the student who I had shove me on Monday was back in my class today. I initially felt sympathy for her on Monday – felt that she had been provoked. Apparently it does not take much to provoke her. In fact, all it took was my asking her to complete her assignment. She didn’t shove me though :-p I suppose that is one feather in my cap.

When you come full circle...

I have just finished another day in the classroom – albeit completely exhausted! I moved into the hostel yesterday, and though I did have the potential for a decent night’s sleep, stress kept me up for most of the night. The last 72 hours have been highly tumultuous, thanks to 2 moves, two nights in a dungeon, and facing the prospect of living in the armpit of five other girls in a 6-bed dorm. I must say I was highly displeased to find that the “secure” baggage room at the hostel, had been emptied of all bags, which were then left haphazardly in the hall. So much for security…and so much for storing a bag.

In the past couple of days I have come to the realization that I need to figure out what to do with my life. It is a catch-22. Let me start by saying that I do not want to leave England. I want to stay. Unfortunately, the underlying reality that I do not want to teach, is a continuing issue that I must face. As such, I have begun the process of returning to Canada. What does this mean exactly? Does this mean that I won’t return to the UK? No. Not at all. I have realized that under the right circumstances, and in the correct profession, I could be happy here. Unfortunately there are too many variables that are contributing to my misery.

In the process of deciding what to do, I have finally contacted my thesis advisor. Yes, it is time. I need to clear those two classes that have been weighing heavily on my mind for the past three (yes, 3) years. Why haven’t I finished them? I took a detour into education! Do I regret that? Not so much. In the long run, I am sure that having an Ed. degree will be somehow beneficial to my future pursuits. Whether it be in handling individuals, dealing with stressful situations, I figure there must me some sort of benefit to the degree. Financially, yes I do regret the degree; but again, maybe in the future it will pay off.

Part of what has spurred this on, is my discovery of the online-Masters-degree option. The University of Liverpool offers two online degrees in Business. The real benefit is that a student can take up to six years to complete the course. This is a good option. Again though, I must complete my undergraduate thesis in order to pursue this sort of an option. Why business? There are jobs in business. I need to be in an adult driven world. I realize that teachers are fulfilled by the idea of inspiring students – and there was a time that I was too. Unfortunately I have lost the desire. Maybe too much time has been spent listening to teachers who speak negatively of the profession. Or maybe my years of working in schools has shown me another side to the profession – the side that I do not wish to indulge in. Does this mean that I will never teach again? No. It means that right now, it isn’t for me.

Today I taught five periods of science. I can say that I was completely lost in one of them – upper level chemistry. I have not taken a chemistry class in 12 or so years and it definitely wasn’t one of my strong subjects. Luckily the other four periods were in biology related subjects – I understood them. Today a student shoved me, much to the excitement of the class (not happy excitement, but it involved drama so they were keen). This led to the great concern among several teachers and heads of department – oh – and paperwork. And apologies. And concern from a supervisor who was worried that I was hurt or would quit the profession on the spot (ironic, isn’t it?). I do not believe that the student intended to shove me, or at least that is what I reported. I did not freak out, or get angry – I was more concerned about the student who took the action. I put on a stern appearance for the sake of the other students (I can’t be perceived as being indifferent to the situation) but truthfully, I just wasn’t overly bothered. Obviously I can’t go into great detail, but such is life.

Aside from this drama, I spent another day responding to Canada questions:

“Miss, what is Canada like?”
“Miss, what is school in Canada like?”
“Miss, do we sound strange to you?”
And then the personal questions…

“Miss, do you like England?”
“I do” and that isn’t a lie.

“Miss, are you a teacher?”
A little confused about this one…I was teaching the class, after all.

“Miss, did you go to school to become a teacher?”
“Nope. Never stepped foot in a school before today.”

“Miss, how long did you go to school for?”
“Let’s not go there.”

“Miss, do you have tattoos?”
“No.”
“Yes you do. You have one.”
“I don’t have one.” Officially I have two, so I wasn’t lying.

My favourite conversation; between three girls:
“So this guy is working at KFC. What a joke. I mean it is fine if you own the KFC, but to work there? That is so pathetic.”
“I know! You can’t live like that!”
Leanne: “Ok listen, keep in mind that I have 3 university degrees and back home, all I was qualified to do was work in a KFC or MacDonald’s. It happens.”
*three girls look at me shocked
“Miss has three degrees and could only work in KFC where she lived!”
“Miss! We didn’t mean to offend you.”
Leanne: “Life doesn’t always happen the way we like it to.”
**truthfully, the job situation in Thunder Bay is often so bad, that I’m not even sure I could get a job at KFC.

Prior to coming to the UK, I would argue with a friend regarding soccer-football. I refused to call it football until I was officially in the UK. It was a little part of my Canadian identity. In August I had pink streaks put through my hair as my last hurrah before “taking a grown up job” – in October I had my hair coloured to reflect “being grown up”. Last week I gave up the last part of my personal identity when I finally removed 3 sets of earrings from my ears. I couldn’t hide them any longer, and being that I was in a school with a fairly strict dress code, I knew it was time. What is the importance of this? Maybe it boils down to the fact that everyday Leanne gives up a bit of Leanne, whether it be in a physical or emotional sense. No matter what happens this week or next, I know things have changed, and I know I have to look towards the future. If and when I go home, now or in December, I know I need to get off the pot and commit to something.

In reality it does kill me to leave England. If I could live and work in something other than teaching, I think I would stay. If I could head to a place in England and know that I could make enough money to survive, I would. Right now though, I finally understand what it is that I have to do. And maybe that makes this experience ok.