Tell me why....

On Monday morning my Head Teacher, as always, gave an assembly to the whole school. It was a powerful assembly, and an assembly that reflected the nature of my school as a community of faith, prayer and mutual support.

It was also a sad assembly.

My Head Teacher was appealing to the students of my school to support their teachers in a decision of conscience. This Thursday, 17th October 2013, the teaching unions of the NUT and NASUWT have called for a day of strike action. They have done this for many reasons, but what drew the attention of our Head was this, teachers want to go on strike because they are deeply worried for the future of education.

You will hear in the news tomorrow that teachers have been on strike because they are upset about pay, working conditions and pensions. And, that is true. But, teachers are also on strike tomorrow because they are worried that the children of tomorrow will not have professional, qualified, experienced teachers to help them through their education. There is already a national shortage of qualified teachers in some key subjects. It is already common for a school to have to 'set cover' for GCSE examinations groups because no qualified teacher can be found for that group at present.

The appeal my Head Teacher made was this: some of your teachers will go on strike, some will not. Whatever choice your teachers make, they have thought long and hard about their choice. They have made their decision because they love teaching you, and because they want the best for your future and the future of the children that come after you. Support your teachers. You know how hard they work. You know how much they care for you. Talk to your teachers about the decision they have to make. Take an interest in what they have to say. Tomorrow, I hope that some of you will be teachers. Listen to what is at stake. 

 My Head Teacher was asking my students to take the time to research, listen and seek the truth of the situation. I cannot offer any better advice than that. A fellow teacher and fellow blogger has outlined very carefully why the NUT and NASUWT are taking action tomorrow here. Do read what she has to say. The biggest lie I will hear on the news tomorrow is that teachers work 9am to 3pm and have 12 weeks holiday a year. That makes me angry and shows ignorance of a profession that looks after the future of our country. The details about pay, conditions and pensions are important, but secondary. The purpose of teaching is to provide a decent education to all students, regardless of their ability, social background or special educational needs, and to give every child the best start in life. When attacks on teaching become an attack on the ability of teachers to perform that task, trouble is ahead.

I'll be in school tomorrow. This is not because I do not support the strike, but because, as part of the position I occupy in my school, I am a 'key worker' and must be in school to protect the health and safety of the pupils in our care. I'll be in school tomorrow to support my colleagues on strike, and hope, ever more dearly, that politicians will come and see what is at stake, take time to see what the education of our young people involves, and help ensure that tomorrow's children have excellent, healthy, enthusiastic and happy teachers.

Please think carefully about what you hear about teachers on the news tomorrow. Your children, or your future children,  depend on them.

Educating Yorkshire and emotional teaching

I do not normally watch programmes on television about education. I spend all day at the chalkface and like a little variety, so ordinarily stories about schools are on the last resort list.

That said, Educating Yorkshire is completely compelling, and has, without exception, made me cry every week. I love those students, and it is obvious that their teachers love them too. And that is the crux of the 'I do not know how you do your job' conundrum. Teachers teach their students well because they love them. I am lucky enough to work in a school in which OFSTED inspectors said as much in their report about our work, but it is true the world over. It is impossible to teach anyone anything without love.

This week, Mr Steer, Deputy Head Teacher of Thornhill Academy, was seen dragging his leg behind him through the corridors, afflicted by some awful allergy. He did not take time off work because there was an exam on that week, and, as every teacher knows, time off work affects your students. Time off work, incidentally, is not time off work, because you spend your time at home setting the work to be done and worrying. Teaching and parenthood have many similarities. Some people might watch Mr Steer at Thornhill and think he is the exception to the teacher-sickness-dedication rule. Not so. In every school across the country there are teachers who care so much about the people that they teach that they will do anything to help them achieve their potential. Many people, when they choose to teach, choose to give their lives to the job they do.

Educating Yorkshire makes me cry every single week because it is all so familiar. The struggles, battles, victories, tears, laughter and joy are all in there. They have even shown the challenging moments when students are affected by devastating family circumstances and teachers attempt to help teenagers grieve, process anger or seek justice. I have never seen a programme so accurately reflect the day to day reality of spending daily life with a community of young teenagers. I should also mention that, in my experience, although teachers often help children grieve the loss of a loved one, the reverse is also true, and when a teacher loses someone, students are also good at helping an adult through this process. Teachers and students spend more of their waking hours together then either party spends with their family, so that is not so strange. Educating Yorkshire inspires me.  I have never seen a programme that so carefully reflects the dynamic relationship between teacher and pupil, everything from 'I hate effing Geography and I hate yer...' to 'I didn't think I could do it, and I went and did it,  and I got an A. I am an effing genius.' That's what it is all about. It is the reason I get up in the morning. It is one of the many reasons I am glad to get up in the morning.

Guardian Angels, Francis, Bruno, Our Lady, Newman...

October, the beginning of Autumn, the month of my birthday. A month that begins well. Look at that list of Feasts! Guardian Angels is by favourite and my best. Unless of course, Francis is my favourite and my best. Bruno could be too. Who could leave out Newman? And, well, without Our Lady of the Rosary none of us would ever manage.

In years gone past I have written about each of these days separately. There is much to learn from each. But, taken collectively they speak a message too: You are looked after, cared for and protected (Guardian angels), look after others in return (Francis), take time for God and for yourself (Bruno), be prepared to think things through and change your mind when necessary (Newman), and, everyone needs help (Our Lady of the Rosary).

In response to all of these good lessons I can offer the following: you deserve to be looked after, cared for and protected - make sure you are; show that you care for those around you - your loved ones deserve to be looked after too; take time for yourself and for God - know yourself;  think carefully about the choices you make - you only live once; ask for help when you need it - living in community has a purpose.

Part of all this living the faith lark leads me to do something I can be tempted to not bother with - to cook well for one. It is tempting to 'not be bothered', to heat something quick or eat junk food. It is just not on, and to some extent, it is immoral. To some extent, let's not go overboard, I love a bit of junk on occasion. But, to regularly cook good, healthy, tasty food that you can look forward to is part of caring for yourself, being happy, self respect and self esteem.

Here are some recent, recipe free (apologies), simples suppers I have made of late:

Baked Cheesy Leek and Mushroom Chicken:

This was borne of having leeks and mushrooms that needed using. I seared and coloured a chicken breast with the skin on. Then in a pan I sauteed leeks and mushrooms in butter, adding flour and milk to change to a white, 'bechamel' sauce. I placed the chicken breast into a tiny baking dish, poured over the leek and mushroom bechamel and grated enough parmesan on top to ensure a cheesy crust. The whole lot went into an oven at 180C for 25 minutes to cook the chicken and crisp up.  I served this with crusty bread.

Autumn Sausage Bake

I had a set of autumn vegetables bought with good intentions going to waste in the fridge. It happens. I chopped or crushed, shallots, garlic, a red pepper, new potatoes and baby carrots and added them to a non stick baking tray with three lovely, organic, free range, delicious sausages. I drizzled the whole lot with olive oil, added fresh rosemary and thyme, salt and pepper. The whole glorious mix took 30 mins in a preheated oven at 180C. It could have been beetroot, butternut squash, celeriac, parsnip, turnip or anything. It was yum. I still have three sausages left - they're in the freezer.

Burgers and Bits

The key thing here is delicious burgers and good bread, everything else is optionsal. I like fresh sweetcorn on the cob, tomatoes, good cheese, gherkins, salad. Homemade chips, or baby roast with fresh rosemary are not out of the question.

Burgers and Bits and Autumn Sausage Bake  both deserve a glass of red wine. FACT.

Poverty Chic Daal

There are a thousand ways of making a daal. On this occasion I boiled red lentils and baby carrots in vegetable stock. Fried onions and garlic with a delicious curry paste (not a bought sauce); added tomato paste to the onions with the cooked carrots and lentils, and finally added winter greens for a few moments before serving. I ate the whole lot served on top of a warmed naan. Simple, delicious, cheap.

There, a few weekday survivors from this first week of October. I loved them, and they made me feel happy.

explodingdog: Crazy Monster is enjoying the coffee Exploding Dog is my favourite cartoonist. http://theworldiscloister.tumblr.com/post/62826580802

explodingdog:

Crazy Monster is enjoying the coffee

Exploding Dog is my favourite cartoonist.

via Tumblr http://theworldiscloister.tumblr.com/post/62826580802

Lead Kindly Light....feeling a little ‘October’

The lyrics of this are beautiful, and very ‘October’ to me. For the record I should say what little I know of it. It was written by Blessed John Henry Newman in 1833, or thereabouts, during a journey home from Italy. John Henry had been unwell and homesick, but rough seas added to his plight by making him sea sick. He wrote this poem, entitled 'The Pillar of Cloud', a reference to Moses' path from Egypt, during a becalmed period of travel between Marseille and the Straits of Bonifacio. Some say the last two lines are a loving reflection upon his relationship with his sister, Mary, who had passed away in 1828, aged 19. Newman had loved her very much.

"Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th’encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.


I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!


So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on.
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

via Tumblr http://theworldiscloister.tumblr.com/post/62739810171

Not Forgotten

Some might say that I have forgotten the saints these days; that recently my blog has not linked the laughs I have, the food I cook, the life I lead with the lives of those that have gone before me.

I have not forgotten.

I started looking into the lives of the saints, and celebrating the lives they led through the food I prepare and eat when I was at a turning point in my own life. I did not know where to turn, what to do, or what work would come around the corner next. I was unemployed for 4 months, then took work as a seamstress, vegetable picker, domestic servant, sales assistant and office worker before my first temporary teaching post came along in January 2011, 7 months after I left my DPhil study and moved home.

By the grace of God, and the generous hospitality of the RSCJ Sisters in Oxford, I found myself back in the arms of an educational career, and for this reason I wrote the post about inspirational educators. After that temporary post had finished I left the hospitality of the sisters, although I kept them in my heart, and found a flat in the centre of Oxford and a new post in a non-Catholic Comprehensive school in Oxford. There were challenges there, too many to mention, but by the June I had secured my current teaching position in a place where the prayer of the Office seeped through the the seams, and the saints of the calendar lived in the corridors and on the walls. I started in September 2011.

Since then the lives of the saints have been part of my everyday. Who’s this? What did they do? I am sorry they don’t make more of an  appearance on the pages of my blog, with matching food to rejoice in their faith, but I am not sorry their prayers have brought me where I am. Unemployed I used the lives of the saints to occupy my mind, I read about them, thought about them, cooked for them, enjoyed their lives with friends and family through food, wine and time. Employed as a Head of RE I call upon their lives as inspiration for my classroom, anecdotes, examples, and yes, sometimes food. I still rely on their prayers. I have not forgotten the saints, I just have less time to cook for them. I am sure they do not mind. I hope you do not either.

A cure for cold filled pagans (reprise) http://theworldiscloister.tumblr.com/post/61952709053

A cure for cold filled pagans (reprise)

via Tumblr http://theworldiscloister.tumblr.com/post/61952709053

A little bit of what you fancy does you good

 A little bit of what you fancy does you good. That's what my Ma says. This phrase is used especially when you are feeling under the weather. I have been terribly under the weather this week. All I have had is the common cold, but it feels like a disaster. I get frightened of the return of the throat-chest infection that plagues me each winter, and even once this summer (cheeky bugger of a thing). 

Still, I know how to treat myself. My Ma taught me well. Mid week, after a long, cold filled, headachy day at school, I knew what I fancied: I wanted something sweet with custard. Only one problem, there was nothing sweet in the house. I had little energy and could not be tempted from the sofa without the thought that something could be achieved within minutes.

Enter the fruit flapjack, served warm with custard. I did not look for, and did not have a recipe, but it has all worked out very well. I used those American measuring cups and made things up as I went along. There was no exact science, so if you are making this, go with your instinct: if it looks right, it probably is.

4 cups Irish Porridge Oats (the Irish was important to me - a reminder of family, home, strength and vitality)

As many sultanas as you can find. I think I found almost 4 Cups!

2 Cups self raising flour

1 cup soft brown sugar (I admit to pouring this in with no regard for a measure)

Mix all the dry ingredients together. I added a little almond essence for fun. Then in a saucepan I melted:

250g (that’s a whole pack) Kerrygold butter (see the Irish Cure coming in again)

A massive squeeze of Honey (I have one of those squeezy bottles of honey, I must have put a little more than a quarter of it in the butter)

I added the melted butter and honey to the dry ingredients and mixed them up thoroughly. I then spread the mixture onto a buttered baking tray, evenly and thickly. I put the flapjack in the oven to back on 180 - 200 for 15 - 20 minutes, until golden brown.

When I took it out of the oven the flapjack was golden, soft and squishy. Whilst it cooled in the tray I made some Bird’s Custard up. Then I sliced the flapjack up and served myself some flapjack and custard. It was delicious. The rest of the flapjack I cut into neat little slices the next day, and popped them into the biscuit box for storage. They’ll last for ages in a air tight container, and as long as I’m ‘recovering’ I’m allowed steal a slice every time I fancy.

Zemmy ‘Brittle Pieces’ - Telegraph live session (by...

Zemmy ‘Brittle Pieces’ - Telegraph live session (by Zemmy Momoh)

Just played on Radio 4 and was beautiful. I loved her voice, the lyrics, simplicity.

via Tumblr http://theworldiscloister.tumblr.com/post/61223088813

A Grateful Grace

It has been the most beautiful summer. I am not sure that I can ever remember one as bright, light, warm, gentle and happy. From the outside I am sure that my summer has been fairly uneventful: I looked after my parents’ cat, I was ill, I moved house, my parent’s celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, I walked the Chiltern Hill’s, basked in the sunshine, baked cakes, cooked meals, revelled in the love and companionship of my friends and family. In reality everything happened this summer, and I began to see light shining on the future.

Last year I wrote a post about a formal grace that had been traveling around my head: The eyes of all people look to you. It was a grace that made me happy, it was a grace that made me laugh. I knew the words and had applied them to my life. It was all about rooting around the fields and hedgerows, butchers, fishmongers and greengrocers. The beautiful harvest brought home to make home.

This year I am grateful for an informal grace, a grace said by a friend. It was a prayer for blessing, for love and friendship, for happiness and health. I am always envious of people who have the courage to pray freely, the courage to leave the script and say what is real, true and ‘on the mind’. Such is the nature of real prayer. Such is the nature of truly living in faith. I aspire to have this courage.

The summer holidays are a time for carefully prepared meals with those we love, heartily consumed dinners that follow long walks in the open air, up hill and down dale. This year I have enjoyed cooking beautiful meals and snacks for beautiful people. To be sure, I messed a few up: mea culpa. But, for the most part, I did my best, often working with those with whom I would eat, cooking together our sustenance, food gratefully received following days of work and pleasure.The end of August and the beginning of September, despite the return to school, remains my favourite time of year. I keep my habit of lighting candles at meal times, offering a quite prayer for those who help to prepare food, the farmers, packagers, growers; and those loved ones with whom I share the meal.

The tree in the pictures above is rather special. It grows at Chenies Manor, Buckinghamshire, where King Henry VIII and his daughter, Elizabeth I, sat under it during their tumultuous reigns. They probably thought it a very fine tree, for it was 500 years old then. Elizabeth lost a jewel under it - it has never been found. That’s right, this tree is over 1000 years old. It predates 1066 and the Battle of Hastings. It is a Saxon Tree. How much that venerable Oak will have seen, how many conversations it will have heard, how many picnics it will have looked upon. History sometimes baffles me. I cannot imagine such expanses of time. It awes me. Time for us is always either too long, or too short. We are never content....except in those last weeks of the summer holidays, when the body and mind has relaxed and recovered enough to help one feel at ease with the present. That 'feeling at ease with the present' is a gift, and one I long to hold on to and treasure as the term speeds along. I am quite sure the tree at Chenies was always happy to be in the moment, and always longed to just be where it was and grow with time, never regretting the past, never wishing its time away. I would like to be the same.

This year, on a quiet day, I made the best of all finger food one night: chicken wings. There was plenty, and the leftovers made for a beautiful picnic on a long walk in the hills the following day. This little delicacy was a last taste of summer, a shared happiness. It was warm and sticky, salty and full of pepper and spice. No need for a knife and fork. I am, as usual, indebted to Nigel Slater.

Chicken Wings - 12 Large

a large juicy lemon

bay leaves - 5

Black peppercorns - I heaped tablespoon

olive oil

sea salt flakes

Set the oven at 200C. Put the wings into a roasting dish, halve the lemon and squeeze it over them, then cut up the lemon shells and tuck them, together with the bay leaves, between the chicken pieces.

Put the peppercorns in a mortar and bash them so that they crack into small pieces. Of course, I do not have a mortar, so I wrapped them in tinfoil and hit them with a rolling pin. They should be knubbly, like small pieces of grit, rather than finely ground.

Mix the peppercorns with the olive oil and toss them with the chicken pieces. Scatter with salt flakes. Roast for 40 - 45 minutes, turning once. The chicken should be golden and sticky, the edges blackened here are and there - they should be nearly stuck to the roasting tin.

PS: You might be wondering about the Red Kite and the Boar. They are just creatures I have met hereabouts recently and I liked them. xx