brighton
brighton
brighton
07-04- 2014
So here I am in Brighton.... why? you might ask, it's a question I've been asking myself. I came down on Sunday 23rd of March. The plan was that while my good friend Sol was away travelling for a few months I would come and stay here. I had enrolled to do a CELTA course - a four week intensive course where one learns the basics of teaching english as a foreign language. On that Sunday I met a man in a bar and he had a very frank inquisitive manner. He asked me if I was happy with where I am in life and as I was buoyant with confidence I assured him that I felt I could deal with anything life could throw at me. These words have been haunting me ever since, as I have encountered a few difficulties so far. Sol left on the Monday morning and I was immediately thrown into difficulties as I tried to get into the flat. Here on the left you will see the keys I need to get into the flat. There is a red plastic beeper key, then a further two yale locks inside the building. The first yale lock was my stumbling block. I just didn't have the knack of opening the door. I had to ring Sol, who was on the bus to Heathrow, and he said that it definitely worked and that I should just keep trying. So eventually I worked it out, once you know that the keys definitely work I just had to keep trying. It turns out that to move the lock the key needs to be just a little bit out of the keyhole, and you have exert a little upward pressure on the door handle. Now I know this I bear no lasting grudge toward the door.
Anyway, all was going well for the rest of the day, I went down to the college and wrote them out a cheque to cover my course fees. However, later on that day there was a truly unexpected development. The college emailed me and told me the course had been cancelled, and now as I write this, even though I have now become adjusted to this reality, I still feel a little anger toward the college. Firstly the manner in which they let me know, the way in which they had never warned me that cancellation was even a possibility, how they knew I had moved down to Brighton - and sorted out accommodation - specifically to do this course, and how they now seem to think the whole matter is closed with no offer of recompense.
So here I am in Brighton.... why? you might ask, it's a question I've been asking myself. I came down on Sunday 23rd of March. The plan was that while my good friend Sol was away travelling for a few months I would come and stay here. I had enrolled to do a CELTA course - a four week intensive course where one learns the basics of teaching english as a foreign language. On that Sunday I met a man in a bar and he had a very frank inquisitive manner. He asked me if I was happy with where I am in life and as I was buoyant with confidence I assured him that I felt I could deal with anything life could throw at me. These words have been haunting me ever since, as I have encountered a few difficulties so far. Sol left on the Monday morning and I was immediately thrown into difficulties as I tried to get into the flat. Here on the left you will see the keys I need to get into the flat. There is a red plastic beeper key, then a further two yale locks inside the building. The first yale lock was my stumbling block. I just didn't have the knack of opening the door. I had to ring Sol, who was on the bus to Heathrow, and he said that it definitely worked and that I should just keep trying. So eventually I worked it out, once you know that the keys definitely work I just had to keep trying. It turns out that to move the lock the key needs to be just a little bit out of the keyhole, and you have exert a little upward pressure on the door handle. Now I know this I bear no lasting grudge toward the door.
Anyway, all was going well for the rest of the day, I went down to the college and wrote them out a cheque to cover my course fees. However, later on that day there was a truly unexpected development. The college emailed me and told me the course had been cancelled, and now as I write this, even though I have now become adjusted to this reality, I still feel a little anger toward the college. Firstly the manner in which they let me know, the way in which they had never warned me that cancellation was even a possibility, how they knew I had moved down to Brighton - and sorted out accommodation - specifically to do this course, and how they now seem to think the whole matter is closed with no offer of recompense.
The college, here seen in all its glory on the right, did offer some explanation, and I believe them that when they tell me that this cancellation was a freak occurrence, and of course, I could have a place on the course the next time they run it, but to be honest I went down there to take this photo and when I was there I just knew in my gut that it wouldn't be possible for me to go there and study.
This course is a course about learning to be a good teacher, a skill which surely involves a degree of pastoral concern for the student, I think in this respect they have failed me. No offer of compensation, no further communication and a total lack of empathy for my situation.
Strong words indeed, though I think appropriate, but the main thing for me is not to carry these thoughts and emotions around with me but to ask myself: What is the universe trying to tell me here?
This course is a course about learning to be a good teacher, a skill which surely involves a degree of pastoral concern for the student, I think in this respect they have failed me. No offer of compensation, no further communication and a total lack of empathy for my situation.
Strong words indeed, though I think appropriate, but the main thing for me is not to carry these thoughts and emotions around with me but to ask myself: What is the universe trying to tell me here?