Ok, so are getting the hang of this? Get the tunes on as you read. This one is a wee bit more difficult as it is Kelly Jones. Get in the queue ladies……
So, as in the title…..mammys. Where to begin?
Well let’s start with my wee mammy. Yes, I am turning into her,
GOD HELP YOU ALL. When people ask who my heroes are, first up is Wee B herself. A stronger more resilient woman I do not know. I love the fact that we spent time jigging up and down the kitchen (Scottish and Irish dancing), cuddled in on the couch watching the Epics like Cleopatra and Ben Hur and just enjoying talking. This continued throughout the mental teenage years that stretched till eh, well still going on. Out house was always the first pub on a night out as the girls loved the chat with my mum. Cannot beat a west coast mammy to tell it like it is.
I loved the fact that she never told me no when I announced I was doing another crazy thing ( parachuting at 17, inter- railing on my own at 19, and as my pal Caitlin Moran would say – brutalising myself with gin) she just asked me of I was happy, was I safe and would it help someone else.
Yes, mammy worked in special ed before she had usand thank goodness as she got a cracker with me.
I started teaching at 23 and there was not really a mammy instinct, more a big sister that was too cool to talk to you. After some time on the East Coast, I moved back to the West and worked in a massive dept where everyone wanted to be my mammy. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t some poor wee soul, I just didn’t wear brown and wasn’t going through the menopause. I started to make nonsense up just to shock them ( weekend? No, don’t remember it – apparently I had a great time!My eyes are red? Not slept as I’ve been out on the batter) but I looked at how some of them would nurture the weans in school in a way I’d seen my mammy do with me.
What if I was a surrogate mammy to the weans I teach? And then almost like a light going on that what I became. Only the did I realise that I might be the only constant person for this young person. The only person that asks them ” are you safe? are you happy? Can you help someone else? ”
(Right, I admit it , I also got the other questions: do you have life insurance? How much do you need?)
Never has this been more important to me than when I interview. I’m lucky enough to sit on interview panels fairly regularly and it’s amazing to hear people interview for a teaching post and NOT MENTION WEANS. My mantra is ” if I would not put you in front of my wee lady, then you are not going in front of any other wee ladies ( and gentlemen)I have even on occasion been known to say, ” wouldn’t put them I front of my dug. And I don’t have a dug…..)
I was thinking about this as I was baking with the wee lady tonight and shaking the shammy to Salsa Celtica ( we are a class act BTW) and I was thinking while I can’t shake my shammy in class with the weans, I can continue to ask those important questions – apparently part of the nurturing principles. Mammy- who knew?
Oh, and we’ve all heard “yer maw” getting used when what they really mean is ” aye right”.
Try saying that to my mammy. She’d lamp you.
Mammy points 10/10 ( feeling generous as I am going back to work)
Manolos 10/10 what self respecting mammy would wears hoes you would get arrested in? Oh aye, that would be me.
Methodology points – I’ll give them to Wee B. And it’s double points as it is Sunday….