Got any ID hen?

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Miss, you are older than my mum. Not such a strange thing for me to hear now but at least I am not older than the grandmas. Not far off in some cases. I have to admit I often forget what age I am -not because I can’t remember but because I forget. You see, I stopped at 19.
I am not actually kidding. That was the year of the best girly holiday and when life was fairly bonkers and there wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. (Albeit with my best pal in tow)
It seems to have been fairly high on my radar for the past few weeks, not that I give a rats but everyone else seems to have an opinion on it
For example, I was extolling the virtues of my red sticky out skirt to one of my best friends and when I told her where I had bought it, her jaw dropped and she asked me what I been thinking going into this shop as it was for young girls. Yes, she did. I of course apologised and proceeded to goad her for being 50 shades of brown and wearing furry boots when the sun was shining. I then cracked a joke about it being a rare drying day and how I had a wee touch of sciatica that was playing up.

So I am too old for the fabulous shop but it would appear too young for the brown brigade. It’s also interesting having colleagues that are so many different ages. It doesn’t bother me at all:they took part in the strikes, I got a day off school for them. It can be funny when it comes to talking about music when you can’t get a common generation though…..
Age often comes up in the work place. We question promotions,query retirements and genuinely judge by all the wrong standards. And of course, we often hear how it’s not the same now as back in the day….
I had a conversation not long ago where I wasn’t old enough and then another one where I wasn’t young enough. I kid you not.
An old work colleague was looking for a teacher to help with an exchange in the summer and I had remarked that had I not been going away I would have helped. His answer?
“No offence, they are looking for a young teacher”
Dagger to the heart.
This is the former colleague who would walk past my classroom as I was blaring the tunes at 8am in the morning muttering that it ” is like a bloody disco in here” but always smiled when he did. I am sure that he secretly loved the stone roses too.

You see, I had never thought of myself not being a young teacher, and by that, I mean young at heart. I wasn’t aware that I was in the mothball and crinoline contingent. Alas…..
I think it’s all really a question of attitude.
At a conference last year, part of the keynote was about getting the right teachers in front of our young people -not YOUNG teachers but the right ones. Teachers who made children sparkle. Some of the most fabulous teachers I have ever worked with still have the energy they had when I met them.The energy to give their all to the young people they work with. My mum was retired on ill-health due and was devastated to leave the children she worked with,it’s not stopped her making children sparkle. My daughter is one of the sparkliest children you could meet…..Grandma is a massive influence,
I am privileged enough to absolutely love what I do – and I may wax lyrical to the point I deserve a slap with a dish towel but at a year off a big birthday I am determined not to go for the twin set, nice blouse and best behaviour. I’m not quite an old woman who wears purple, just red. I am sure there seems to be some kind of rule book that we are supposed to adhere to,some kind of mechanism that would tell me that I was too old for things….like the time I rocked up to my favourite haunt a few years ago to be told it was a younger crowd -mentioned in this blog – but they couldn’t get to the front of the queue like this old yin. Age……cares not a jot.

My dad is a great example, nearly 68 and still a rock star. Not a hint of wintergreen or a flat cap. Not a sweet sherry or val doonican jumper in evidence at all. Just because he can get his state pension has not meant he has stopped being his fabulous self or getting banned from places with the band for being too loud.

Age:really of not importance unless you are a cheese.Good teaching and learning is the same whatever age you are.commitment to weans doesn’t come with a an expiry date. Commitment to getting better doesn’t have an expiry date either.
Imagine.

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