Blurb

idk

I’ve had a lot of jobs in my relatively short life. You know how lots of authors have those blurbs on their dust jackets? The ones that go Blah Blah has been a teacher, gymnastics instructor, waitress, tight-rope walker, singer, and for one horrifying day she was mistaken for an architect. She has written for TV, radio and film. This is her 16th book. She lives with her husband and their three cats in London. Yeah. That’s been my life, except without the successful writing career, or the cats, or London.  

Once, when I was changing jobs for the 700^th time, I actually thought about what my blurb might look like on a book and got all excited imagining it. It will sound so interesting, I thought, like I’ve really lived a life. The only problem with this fantasy, of course, is that I’ve never written anything longer than a few thousand words, and any time I’ve ever had an idea for a novel, I’ve been too impatient to actually write it. So the chances of me having a dust jacket blurb are pretty slim. Regardless, I’m going to write my own blurb, right now, just to show off my many and varied roles, in order.

Lizzy King has been a purveyor of fine donuts, a serviced office receptionist, a receptionist for an OBGYN, a generally grumpy barista, unemployed, a cleaner, a stage manager, production manager and lighting operator, she’s been an admin assistant for a music department, a student assistant, a glorified roadie, a production coordinator for an arts venue, a conference centre coordinator and receptionist again. For a few horrible months she was an assistant accountant. Now she is a teacher aide, education student and blogger. She lives in Dalby with her partner, Boyfriend, and their imaginary animal friends. She has never written a book.

So yeah. There’s a lot of jobs in there, and almost all of them paid me. The good news is that education feels different. For the first time in my life I am doing something that feels right all the time. Even when it’s hard, it feels right. And it’s been such an amazing experience; I’m kind of kicking myself for not doing it earlier.  The other good news is that I have this really weird, broad range of experiences, most of which involved being quite organised, pretty switched on and not freaking out about the unexpected. So you know… things that are pretty important when teaching.

Sure, I’m flighty, sure I infuriate my parents, yes, I could probably stand to stick things out a bit more, but in my 10 years in the big, scary world of work, I’ve gotten almost every job I’ve applied for, I’ve learnt new things a million times over, and I’ve gained a whole lot of XP. I spent ten years trying a whole lot of things in an attempt to find where I really want to be. It was a process of elimination, but I feel like I’ve found it. And besides, if I ever do write that novel, my blurb will be awesome.

Please share your blurbs in comments. Out do me. Go on.

 

I just spent at least 5 minutes looking up why teachers are always depicted with apples.

News:

Next month is Potentially ProblematicOpinions Month. During this themed month, Alex Neill writes about things that are potentially problematic, and this year she’s asked other people to join in. So I am! However, next month will also include some pretty crazy uni stuff and professional experience at an actual school so I’m giving myself the option to not blog sometimes if necessary. So stay tuned for possible, potentially problematic opinion blogs and stressed out crying. 

The Ghost of Mathsmas Past

I have an exam tomorrow morning. It will be the first exam I’ve sat since 2008 or 2009, probably. And it’s for maths. Ok, no, it’s not a “maths exam” as such; it’s for a course about how to teach maths to primary school students. In case you missed the memo, I am in fact studying primary education, so suddenly I have to know about easy things like addition and subtraction, and less easy things like algebra and how to teach children to count. Can you even conceive of a time when you didn’t know how to count? That was a thing. That’s a thing lots of people are good at teaching to small children. That’s a thing I’m being examined on tomorrow morning. So given that my brain is completely consumed with studying, I’m not really in a place to write a blog about anything else. NO DON’T LEAVE. This isn’t a post about maths, honest, it’s a post about changing your opinons, and how weird that shit is.

To give you some context, I’d like to take you on a little journey back in time. The year is 2005, and yours truly is standing in a jewellery shop in Indooroopilly Shopping Centre, Brisbane. Teen Lizzy is wearing a school uniform and is excitedly looking at a pink love heart pendant. The shop assistant asks if it’s a gift or for Teen Lizzy. “It’s for me,” she says, “it’s a present to myself for finishing maths forever”. That’s right, I had just come from my Grade 12 Maths A exam, and I had walked up to the shops and bought myself a necklace because I deserved it, apparently, for having survived 12 years of mathematical torture. And because I genuinely thought that 1. pink love heart pendants were cool and 2. I’d never have to do maths again. Bless.

I mean... to look at me... it's actually quite surprising I wasn't any good at maths. #nerd4lyf

Skip forward a couple of years, we’re in a university exam hall, and I’m feverishly writing answers that look remarkably like maths onto an exam paper. Having chosen a minor in Psychology, I had accepted that yes, unfortunately I would have to endure one semester of first year statistics. I regurgitated as much as I could onto the exam paper before walking out and promptly forgetting everything. As I continued through my psych minor, I fudged and guessed my way through any statistics part of my essays and hoped no one would notice.

I was one of those people who bitched and moaned about mathematics, who claimed it had no use beyond the basics, who behaved like I had some kind of number-based dyslexia (which is actually a thing by the way, but I don’t have it). But the reality, of course, is that I have used maths every day of my life. The day I bought that pink love heart necklace I would have mentally calculated if I had enough money to cover it, would have thought about how long I had until my bus left, or how many marks I had hopefully gotten on the exam to get the overall grade I wanted.

But now, I am enamoured with it. One semester studying this course has completely changed my mind about maths. I see now that it is a universal language, that is important, even that it can be beautiful. And I also am coming to understand why I have struggled with it for so long. The main focus of this course is on teaching maths for understanding. Not just teaching the multiplication table, but actually teaching strategies for multiplying, for making sure kids actually understand what they are doing when they multiply, or divide, or find common denominators or translate equivalent fractions. Some of my teachers taught like this, but most didn’t. So once maths got beyond the realm of basic concepts and memorising, I had zero skills in my arsenal to cope with the bigger stuff.

I think *because* I have struggled for so long with the subject, I feel really empowered to do better by my future, hypothetical students. Because I know how embarrassing it is to stand at the checkout and have no idea how much your third of the share house groceries should be, I want to make sure that no student of mine has to experience that. And because I have so drastically changed my mind on this topic, I want to empower young’uns to feel good about maths, to feel like it is just as fun as science, just as interesting as English or history. I want them to feel like that always, so that instead of struggling through maths education, they’ll flourish. I want to give students the most positive maths foundation possible, so that they can be much, much better at it than I ever will be.

Ms. King out. 

When I'm Prime Minister

Except where it says "Quimby" read "Lizzy King" and where it says "Mayor" read "benevolent dictator"

Stand up and be counted, it’s time to put your vote in the right place. I know you’re sick of the Labor party’s shambolic mismanagement of itself, and our country, but I know you’re also afraid that this man might one day be in charge of things like fiscal and foreign policy, instead of just how to dress himself and shout a lot.

So I come to you now with a viable alternative, me, obviously, doofus. Sure, I may not have many credentials, but neither does Barnaby Joyce, and he’s the leader of the National Party and also one time ate a hot dog. Wait, stop comparing me to Barnabus, bad example. Look, no, the truth is I don’t have the traditional background for politics, but I do have a lot of policies that I think might interest you.

Firstly, I would make it so that no one was allowed to say “Gen Y” on TV. Yeah, you think Gillard’s proposed media restrictions were strict? I’m also banning the phrase “illegal refugees” and the TV shows Today Tonight, A Current Affair and My Kitchen Rules. Your kitchen does not rule, shush.

I would read the thing we signed some time ago saying how many refugees we would let in to our country, and then… get this… I’d let that many in. Also, I would only imprison people who have committed crimes under Australian law.  As asylum seeking is not illegal, I would house asylum seekers in appropriate housing and we’d all move on. Also, it would cost us all a lot less than imprisoning them. Also, also, they’d be able to contribute to society. Also, also, also it wouldn’t be morally reprehensible. Everyone wins. 

Woah that got heavy, back to the fun stuff. As Prime Minister (or is it President of the Universe?) I will work very hard to make the 4-day working week a glorious reality. The four-day work week is an actual thing and I think we should just try it guys, I’m open to suggestions on which day we take off. Probably people will go for either Friday or Monday, but I am also partial to a mid week nap day.

I would make all the meat free-range meat because this is my soapbox and you’re damn right I’m going to stand on it and say a bunch of stuff.

While we’re up here, obviously, marriage equality would just like, happen, and employers would be held accountable for having racist, sexist or generally bigoted hiring policies. People who start stupid Hashtags on twitter would be banned from the internet for 24 hours.

More money would go to scientific research. Pretty much… are you working to find out how the world can be better (curing diseases, reducing carbon emissions, space exploration etc)? Cool, expect a pay rise.

Meanwhile, we’ll save a heap of money on the whole refugee thing and also with the four-day week thing. And a bunch of other things I haven’t thought about yet, but I’m getting there. I have a head cold, cut me some slack. Head colds will be cured soon hopefully; I am throwing a LOT of money at science.

Education is also going to get a lot better. I don’t know if you realise this, but an educated society is… better? At everything? So more teachers, more schools, better resources. And we’re going to take a good hard look at Finland, and just basically adopt most of what they are doing. NAPLAN can jump in a creek. Education will also have a strong focus on life skills. Single sex schools will have to sort something out, because that is not going to fly anymore. Also, sex education will be compulsory from grade 6 and will involve mostly discussions about consent. Also, kids will learn how to respect one another, crazy right?

I will campaign for universal TV rights. If something gets released in the UK on a Saturday night, you’ll be able to watch it within 24 hours on Australian TV. There will always be legal, viable ways for you to watch and own good TV so you don’t resort to stealing. I’ll have a strong word with TV producers around the world about how frankly, if they want audiences to like them and pay for their shows, maybe they shouldn’t make them wait 6 – 12 months before they can do so. I will also introduce them to tumblr and just say… “You see? This is why.”

Most importantly, I will be your kind and benevolent leader. As time goes on you will realise that I am the best at all things, and you have no real need for anyone else. Elections will pass us by and we’ll think, oh… do we really need those things? And you will decide, no, of course not, who else could possibly lead us? I will love you, you will love me. Membership to the Hum Drum Plum party is 50 cents, and you get a badge. Sign up at https://www.facebook.com/HumDrumPlum

I Am The Boyfriend - Riff & Rhyme, a Guest Post

Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention please/Let me introduce myself before I bring you to your knees/Today I am the Master of these Ceremonies/Thrilling and delighting like the flying trapeze...

We interrupt your regularly scheduled blogging to bring you this special bulletin and extra- special-guest-hosted-edition of Hum Drum Plum. That’s right bloggeroos...wait, is that too familiar? I feel like that’s Lizzy’s word; we haven’t even been formally introduced. Well, not directly. This is more of a blogger-ruse - allow me to explain. Lizzy has been called away to familial duties, so I have stepped in to keep the streak alive. You, dear reader, know me simply as Boyfriend. Yes, that Boyfriend. The one who dragged our host out to the country so I could help transform teenagers into the leaders of tomorrow. But I digress. I am here, as I said, to blog - so blog I will.

Need to find some willpower, apply it to the task/Realise that clarity’s not bottled or comes in a glass/I need to take a shot; of one kind not another/Face my demons head on instead of trying to run for cover/I need to pay attention to these lines I wrote/You can try to drown your sorrows - but the little bastards float...

I’ve only officially been teaching for five terms. Fifteen months, not counting holidays; a drop in the ocean in terms of how long some have been doing it, and only 1.25 of my own 29 years on the planet. But in that time, I have already evolved to be twice or three times the educator I was when I started (Ding! Level 2 Educator Class: +5 to discipline, +10 to effective planning, +10 to emotional fragility and substance abuse) and would happily admit that I have learnt as much from my charges as they hopefully have from me.

In terms of employment, I’ve been a lot of things in my time - actor/writer/director/producer/ rapper, customer service assistant (or Customer Service Ass. as my paycheck pointed out), rug salesman, kitchenhand and noodle dispenser, learning support teacher aide and confectionary retailer, among others. But even at this early stage of the game, an argument could be made for teacher being one of the roles that has had the most impact on me; definitely top two or three.

Lights on-off, eyes can’t adjust/Day-light, dark-bright, pain arcs and thrusts/ Wallowing or dealing if you feel you must/But always at the back of your mind - dust to dust/Ash to ash, back to back where it began/Washed up victim of a complex scam/Twist and turned, taut and tied, stoked and fired/Last page of legal documents reveal they lied...

By impact, I mean emotionally and mentally. It’s like nothing else I’ve done. I could easily while away the hours regaling you with tales of how hard I’ve worked over those five terms, the hours I’ve put in, the unpaid overtime that makes up the vast majority of those hours (and which more than justify the extra handful of weeks holiday we get per year - I’m not even going to start on that with you dear reader, as this is our first time together and I don’t want it to get ugly. Suffice to say, until you do it, you can’t really fathom what goes on) and the extra miles I have gone to and am expected to go to in the course of my job.

I could tell you about all the wonderful things - the connections I have made with staff, students and the community, the contributions I’ve been able to make through extra- curricular events like musicals and fundraisers, and the simply indescribable feeling of knowing that you’ve helped a child “get” something, or helped shaped their life or future in some way, however infinitesimal. I could tell you about all the less-than-wonderful things - the kids who have gone out of their way to make trouble or bully people, the classes that I hated, the times I felt tiny and alone, the disrespect and the moments of stomach- clenching, all-encompassing doubt.

I want to tell these kids when they step through that doorway/That if I could I’d take them and look over them always/And everything about them is amazing in all ways/ And even if they're changing all their parts that the core stays/But this time is a raw stage/And words can be misunderstood and easily cause rage/More maze - that's whats up ahead to navigate/They don't need a preacher, just a teacher who can captivate/Maybe one who helps them see that they don't always have to hate/They could learn they've got a choice and got a voice and master fate...

As I’m sure you’ve guessed already though, I’m not going to describe these things to you. I’ve decided for today to focus on one thing that has become a real struggling point for me recently, as this written medium provides me with an outlet through which to best phrase some things that may otherwise come out awkwardly or be misconstrued. I teach Drama, and in these classes, I try to build an environment that values safety and respect, where people can try and fail and experiment and improve. And in these Drama classes, more often than not, there are more females than males.

I wish I could tell some of female students that they’re beautiful and I have love for them.

Now before you freak out, just listen - not that I’m in love with them, or any silly rubbish like that. I just want these girls to be told by someone who’s not their family that they’re pretty and loved and can be whatever they want to be. I have caught wind lately of how many students, particularly female, are self-harming and suffer from depression and self- esteem issues. Now, I’m not suggesting that one gesture of encouragement from some teacher is going to solve any of that, or that every girl’s confidence and problems are linked to how they look or are dependent on being thought of as attractive. Not even a little. And I’m not suggesting that one male teacher knows all there is to know about the minds of these girls, or that he knows best, or anything at all. But for the last little while, I have just wanted to express my helplessness and swell of emotion that comes from hearing their stories or seeing their faces.

I hear how they are treated by boys. I hear how they are treated by other girls. I hear how their parents or siblings treat them. And it fucking tears me up inside to know I can do so little to protect or help them, and I just want to be able to tell them: “You are beautiful. You are young, and so full of life and promise and potential. If you can hang in there, if you can realise how many people around you love and appreciate you, even when they may not always be good at showing it, then you’ll see it gets better, and that these school days do not need to dreaded or feared. If that boy treats you like that, you don’t really want to be with him anyway. Its ok to wait to have sex, and its ok to want to have sex. Don’t ever, ever let anyone make you feel ashamed about wanting (or not wanting) to explore your body or your sexuality; wanting to do those things does not and will not ever make you a ‘slut,’ nor does the opposite make you ‘frigid’ or a prude. I promise if you are brave, and take chances with making new friends instead of being stuck in negative cliques, that good things will happen. I promise that you are pretty, and have worth, and that you are capable of loving and worthy of being loved. The world will always have dickheaded people and shit days in it - but those days never last, and those people will fade away. You can do anything and be anyone.”

“I cannot fight right now. I cannot rage, or roar, or do the things my soul yearns to do. But I stand - know this. And tomorrow is, they say, another day. Well, good. Tomorrow then. Or the day after. Or the morning after that. I will rage. And I will roar. I will.”

This is of course, the iceberg tip of an issue. One could talk for days on the way we are conditioned to treat males and females, and the way they are conditioned to see each other, and how that means that arguably boys too often are not educated enough in their teenage years to see girls as people, or how it means that women are told how to avoid rape instead of men being told not to rape. Lizzy has some great and interesting ideas and opinions on this topic, so I’ll leave future musings up to her. I’m no expert. I’m not even an experienced teacher yet. What I am, is someone who feels deeply, and who wants to help turn these kids, regardless of gender, race or ability, into capable, thoughtful citizens of the world who dream large and live larger. I want them to be better than I am.

Thankyou for letting me riff and rhyme for you today, dear reader. I remain your humble servant.

Love, Boyfriend.