London is one of those cities that you either love or hate. I will admit – my passion for London isn’t really over the top. I like to visit the city, check out a few sights, do a bit of shopping, eat – but that’s about the only excitement that I find in London. In terms of actually living here, I am not a fan (obviously). Trying to carry on a conversation on my mobile phone is literally impossible. Amidst the traffic, blaring horns, and surrounded by hundreds of others screaming into their mobile phones, doesn’t exactly help relay a conversation. Actually, that is even if you can hear your mobile phone ring. It drives me crazy that every person has their mobile set to the highest ring volume – but the reality is, in order for it to be heard above the constant noise, it is necessary. I still do not have the finely tuned hearing to actually hear my phone ring in London. I generally miss calls. Which in some ways is alright, because I am not someone who enjoys being glued to my phone. In my ideal world, mobile phones would cease to exist. Nothing irritates me more than the ring of a mobile during a quiet dinner in a restaurant. Shut it off! You don’t need to be connected all the time (unless it is life or death, then I will make an excuse).
I would like to call the noise in London the “fart factor”. Yes, you read that correctly. In the majority of cities you would never dare to publicly fart – it is rude. People would hear. You just don’t do it. I have come to realize that here in London, you can fart without ever being heard. And if you move quickly enough, you can never be pointed out as the guilty party. When you have hundreds of people surrounding you at any given time, it is impossible to determine who farted. Have I tested this theory? You bet. I’m Leanne, and that’s what I do. Find small things to amuse myself. So – to reiterate – the noise in London is so great, that it is possible to publically fart without being heard. That should be printed in a pamphlet to promote the city. Can’t you imagine the crowd that it would draw??
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Monday, 10 November 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, 8 November 2008
Realization
I generally don’t do two blogs in one day. Tonight I need to. I keep wondering to myself – what is wrong with me? Why can’t I make this work? It has only been a month, and I am so miserable. I want so desperately to come home. I had started to feel better about a week ago, and then a couple of days ago I just crashed. I can’t hold it together – there is nothing in this world that would make me want to stay. I look towards tomorrow, and realize that living in a hostel will be difficult, and given that I am already struggling, I may be biting off more than I can chew. I’ve been away from home for much longer periods. So why doesn’t this work? The answer I keep coming back to…the one that stands out above all others - I really feel that I am in the wrong profession. I want to make this work, but I’m not sure it is feasible. Earlier this evening, I made the mistake of checking my calendar, to see how long I actually have to continue to endure this. Seeing it in black and white, with the weeks looming in front of me – I nearly broke down on the spot. Tonight I looked into taking a flight back home on Wednesday, but alas, it is far too expensive. I can’t afford to run away from London on a weekly basis – I would love to; it has been almost two weeks since I was in Leeds and I am going out of my mind staying here. I don’t know how much longer I can endure being this stressed out and sad. What do I do?
London on London
I have been in London a month and a day. Today I found myself wondering, if I left would I miss it? Yes and no. Sometimes I find myself actually enjoying the life here – lots of people and activity. Most of the time, I struggle to find my silver lining. When it is dark by 4:30, when it is raining (which it has been doing for most of the last week), when I am continually getting get cut off by despondent Londoners…well the list could go on…then I don’t know that I would miss it. Actually I spend a great deal of time despising it. Today I was tempted to look through the job postings back home. Here’s a troubling thought: I am qualified for basically nothing, and will be making next to nothing.
The trouble is, I still have no aspirations to take a full time teaching contract, nor do I want the hassle of renting a flat, paying council tax, utilities, signing leases, etc. I have no desire to lock myself in here. Why? Because locking myself in is a scary thought – once I am locked in, I can’t just go home. Right now, my safety is knowing that if it gets too difficult, I can leave. I have spoken with many individuals who are transplant-Londoners. In fact, it seems that most people living in London are transplanted. It doesn’t matter how long they have been here, they all have the same complaints and misery. I still can’t get over the look of sadness that most Londoners possess. I do not want that to be me. London is not a long term aspiration for me.
My realization, is that next week will either make me or break me. Once I move into a hostel, and am forced to deal with 18 year olds who are in London to party every night, and other individuals who think it is ok to go to bed at 2am and wake up at noon – well, that will be the real test. Part of me is relieved to be around other people. Part of me is worried to be the person who has to get up at 6am daily, whereby disrupting the other people in my room. But I have a plan.
I have decided to stop applying makeup in the morning (it will shave time off my morning, as well as recover my skin). I hate wearing makeup anyways. By the end of the day I feel like a I am wearing a plaster mask. Also I have decided to stop straightening my hair on days I have to work. Not that it takes me long, but I am going to blow dry it (5 minutes) and wear it partly up. Again, I don’t really like straightening my hair, and given that my hair is breaking off, I figure I will live with bad hair until Christmas. I will be the teacher who doesn’t care about her appearance. No, not true – I will still dress nicely. I have taken to wearing heals all day; I will continue that painful sojourn while giving up my beautification regime.
As I have previously mentioned, my return home date is December 22. Initially I had considered changing my date until March or April, but given my misery I will go home at Christmas for some recovery and think-time. This is kind of a double edged sword though. Knowing that I am going in 5 weeks makes every day a little harder, because I am so lost in my misery that I can’t wait to leave. Christmas seems so close, yet so far. In some ways it is sort of impeding me from actually settling here. The only upside is knowing that there is an end in sight. But again – knowing that there is an end, only makes each day longer. As I have said before, if I were in a city I loved, in a profession I disliked then it might be doable. If I had a profession I loved, in a city I hated, then it would be doable. Right now, I am so uncertain about teaching, and miserable in London…
In the New Year, it is highly unlikely that I will return to London. I need to find a place that works for me. This is not it. Banbury definitely wasn’t it. So far I have been impressed with the north – is it doable? Maybe after I find a secure agency. Maybe after I spend some more time in the communities up there. Maybe…maybe…maybe. Between the I-don’t-knows and the “maybes” it just never ends. What I would like, is to get through a day where I don’t feel as though I am being suffocated, and where my heart doesn’t thump with anxiety…just one day where I don’t have tears in my eyes or spend part of the day with a stress-related headache, worrying about money, or fearful over the future. Just one day.
The trouble is, I still have no aspirations to take a full time teaching contract, nor do I want the hassle of renting a flat, paying council tax, utilities, signing leases, etc. I have no desire to lock myself in here. Why? Because locking myself in is a scary thought – once I am locked in, I can’t just go home. Right now, my safety is knowing that if it gets too difficult, I can leave. I have spoken with many individuals who are transplant-Londoners. In fact, it seems that most people living in London are transplanted. It doesn’t matter how long they have been here, they all have the same complaints and misery. I still can’t get over the look of sadness that most Londoners possess. I do not want that to be me. London is not a long term aspiration for me.
My realization, is that next week will either make me or break me. Once I move into a hostel, and am forced to deal with 18 year olds who are in London to party every night, and other individuals who think it is ok to go to bed at 2am and wake up at noon – well, that will be the real test. Part of me is relieved to be around other people. Part of me is worried to be the person who has to get up at 6am daily, whereby disrupting the other people in my room. But I have a plan.
I have decided to stop applying makeup in the morning (it will shave time off my morning, as well as recover my skin). I hate wearing makeup anyways. By the end of the day I feel like a I am wearing a plaster mask. Also I have decided to stop straightening my hair on days I have to work. Not that it takes me long, but I am going to blow dry it (5 minutes) and wear it partly up. Again, I don’t really like straightening my hair, and given that my hair is breaking off, I figure I will live with bad hair until Christmas. I will be the teacher who doesn’t care about her appearance. No, not true – I will still dress nicely. I have taken to wearing heals all day; I will continue that painful sojourn while giving up my beautification regime.
As I have previously mentioned, my return home date is December 22. Initially I had considered changing my date until March or April, but given my misery I will go home at Christmas for some recovery and think-time. This is kind of a double edged sword though. Knowing that I am going in 5 weeks makes every day a little harder, because I am so lost in my misery that I can’t wait to leave. Christmas seems so close, yet so far. In some ways it is sort of impeding me from actually settling here. The only upside is knowing that there is an end in sight. But again – knowing that there is an end, only makes each day longer. As I have said before, if I were in a city I loved, in a profession I disliked then it might be doable. If I had a profession I loved, in a city I hated, then it would be doable. Right now, I am so uncertain about teaching, and miserable in London…
In the New Year, it is highly unlikely that I will return to London. I need to find a place that works for me. This is not it. Banbury definitely wasn’t it. So far I have been impressed with the north – is it doable? Maybe after I find a secure agency. Maybe after I spend some more time in the communities up there. Maybe…maybe…maybe. Between the I-don’t-knows and the “maybes” it just never ends. What I would like, is to get through a day where I don’t feel as though I am being suffocated, and where my heart doesn’t thump with anxiety…just one day where I don’t have tears in my eyes or spend part of the day with a stress-related headache, worrying about money, or fearful over the future. Just one day.
Friday, 7 November 2008
London Transition
I am peeved. Normally I would be excited that it was Friday; yesterday at this time I thought it was the greatest realization in the world – I had made it through the week. Today – not so much. After a particularly rough day in the classroom, I am ticked off.
Last night at 10pm, I was informed that I needed to move out of my hotel this morning. I had previously informed the hotel that I would be staying until Sunday (at which point I am moving into a hostel). Due to an apparent break down in communication, the hotel interpreted that to mean that they could give away my room beginning on Friday. After a mad dash to pack up, and a rather sleeplessness night, I am not a happy camper. Realizing there mistake they are putting me up in a room across the road. Still not particularly happy, because I now have to move twice this weekend! Regardless, I agreed to the move.
So today, at the end of my day, I was looking forward to grabbing my bags and moving. Lo and behold, the room across the road is not yet ready. I am tired, and have had one of those days that makes me question whether I really want to continue teaching. I want to move now. Grrr….some days I feel like for every one step forward, I end up taking ten steps back. Going home is looking more and more tempting…
Last night at 10pm, I was informed that I needed to move out of my hotel this morning. I had previously informed the hotel that I would be staying until Sunday (at which point I am moving into a hostel). Due to an apparent break down in communication, the hotel interpreted that to mean that they could give away my room beginning on Friday. After a mad dash to pack up, and a rather sleeplessness night, I am not a happy camper. Realizing there mistake they are putting me up in a room across the road. Still not particularly happy, because I now have to move twice this weekend! Regardless, I agreed to the move.
So today, at the end of my day, I was looking forward to grabbing my bags and moving. Lo and behold, the room across the road is not yet ready. I am tired, and have had one of those days that makes me question whether I really want to continue teaching. I want to move now. Grrr….some days I feel like for every one step forward, I end up taking ten steps back. Going home is looking more and more tempting…
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