Reflections on a Different Mirror.

Two decades ago I spent every penny I had and got into debt to the tune of £4000 training to be a teacher. In those days there seemed no other option. Education had played its part in my mental health recovery. Everyone said it was as simple as going back to Cambridge and studying for a year. Going back to Cambridge had always been the aim. And everyone thought I'd become a great teacher.

Looking back over that time I certainly wasn't ready for that. Too crazy, too reckless, too enamoured of getting off my face, too arrogant, too scared. And utterly foolish. I did shock the doctors though, all of whom neglected to tell me they thought I would fail I did pass despite not yet having the great salvation of Risperidone. Failure though came about over the next two years. I never got a job, I never did my NQT year and everyone thought I was lying about being a teacher. 150 applications, 18 interviews and no job.

All these years later I would certainly be better in a classroom now. The proof after my most recent relapse two years ago came when I took a room full of 83 programme leads, veterans of academia, by storm and blew them away last summer.

Since then I have forged quite a relationship with the School of Education. I have spoken before of what I call the mirror test. I get that for mental health but not teaching. Until yesterday.

Faced with a zoom conversation with the lead for secondary PGCE programme I did not expect to stir those feelings. The truth is though that I know how hard it is to overcome mental illness to forge a career. We have to be better. To force people to overlook our perceived flaws. To overcome the bigotry. To prove we are worthy.

The man on the other side of mirror like me did a history PGCE although he was in Oxford. And it made me look at both my failures and my triumphs. Teaching may not have wanted me but mental health did.

At the end of the day I was reflective but content that maybe I did some good.

A day on the sun shone, I walked in the woods, I indulged in fine food and fine wine. And I remembered the sacrifices of those who went before us. The risk of being jingoistic and waving the union jack on VE day is tempting but remember everyone on every side suffered during that terrible war. True Germany was rebuilt and is now the strongest power in Europe. But we must remember we defeated the evils of fascism not the saddened lives of ordinary impoverished people who happened to be on the losing side. On this day we must remember all of those afflicted by war.

Being Friday I would ordinarily be headed to The Hedgehog shortly but these are not ordinary times. Instead I have tuned into The Hedgehog Drinkers watch party. And it's great fun.

See you next time.

I Heard a Voice.