Educational (Mis)Communication
by Roger McKillop
Genre: Memoir
Swearwords: None.
Description: Education involves communication that’s meant tae enlighten – but sometimes the communication can go wrang wi' hilarious results!
Swearwords: None.
Description: Education involves communication that’s meant tae enlighten – but sometimes the communication can go wrang wi' hilarious results!
A
ay’ mind bein’ telt that Education means tae lead oot. Tae lead oot o’ the
darkness o’ ignorance intae the licht o’ skill an’ knowledge. Like the time A
wis tryin’ tae show how T.V. Coverage has broadened oor appreciation o’
minority sports. A mentioned how urbanites, what'd only ever seen sheep in close
association with mint sauce, wid sit in front o’ the telly an’ criticise a poor
outrun or fetch on One Man and his Dog! To make it even clearer, asked gin ony o’
them had ever rowed? “Naw!” wis the loud reply! “Ah, but A bet ye can aw’ name
a famous rower?” Expectin’ a “Redgrave!” or a “Pincent!” A didni’ expect the first
answer which wis “Hampden!”
Then there wis ma attempt tae conceptualise how tae make a reference within the text. Indirect quotes nae problem according to Surname, Initials, date in brackets. Tae show the difference in direct quotations, offered “Ye’re whit?” Joseph of Nazareth (4 months B.C.). It took some o’ the aulder students tae explain that yin!
It was a privilege tae be able tae help, educate an’ possibly inspire youngsters. A loved ma time playin’ teachin’ an’ interactin’ wi’ them. A wrote this poem here the end o’ ma teachin’career.
Then there wis ma attempt tae conceptualise how tae make a reference within the text. Indirect quotes nae problem according to Surname, Initials, date in brackets. Tae show the difference in direct quotations, offered “Ye’re whit?” Joseph of Nazareth (4 months B.C.). It took some o’ the aulder students tae explain that yin!
It was a privilege tae be able tae help, educate an’ possibly inspire youngsters. A loved ma time playin’ teachin’ an’ interactin’ wi’ them. A wrote this poem here the end o’ ma teachin’career.
Leadin' Oot!
A College’s mair nor a rickle o’ stains,
Leakin’ roofs an’ chokit drains,
It’s, interaction wi’ the weans,
That gies it life!
The culmination o’ oor pains,
In teachin’s strife!
Think oan aw’ the folk we’ve taught,
(Aye an’ those wi’ whom we’ve fought,)
For Education is oor lot,
Tae “lead them oot”
Frae darkness tae the licht we’ve sought,
Tae guide their foot!
Bairns, new com’it frae the school,
Wha smirk an’ jibe an’ act the fool.
Or folk frae unemployment’s pool,
Their second chance,
Wha use us as a trainin’ tool
Tae chinge their dance!
How many lives hae we inspired?
Chinged auld careers, driech an’ tired!
Youth’s ambitions we hae fired,
By whit we give,
The encouragement that they desired,
Tae help them live.
Think o’ the nods an’ subtle smiles
The quiet words at secret whiles,
That helps them scale depression’s piles
An’ let’s them learn.
But we’ve, also been, amid their trials,
Baith cauld or stern!
Education means a “Leadin’ oot!”
Raisin’ Scots tae mair than brute,
Improvement’s whit we’re aw’ aboot,
Nae hesitation,
A “Journey” that we ay’ maun foot,
Nae “Destination!
A College’s mair nor a rickle o’ stains,
Leakin’ roofs an’ chokit drains,
It’s, interaction wi’ the weans,
That gies it life!
The culmination o’ oor pains,
In teachin’s strife!
Think oan aw’ the folk we’ve taught,
(Aye an’ those wi’ whom we’ve fought,)
For Education is oor lot,
Tae “lead them oot”
Frae darkness tae the licht we’ve sought,
Tae guide their foot!
Bairns, new com’it frae the school,
Wha smirk an’ jibe an’ act the fool.
Or folk frae unemployment’s pool,
Their second chance,
Wha use us as a trainin’ tool
Tae chinge their dance!
How many lives hae we inspired?
Chinged auld careers, driech an’ tired!
Youth’s ambitions we hae fired,
By whit we give,
The encouragement that they desired,
Tae help them live.
Think o’ the nods an’ subtle smiles
The quiet words at secret whiles,
That helps them scale depression’s piles
An’ let’s them learn.
But we’ve, also been, amid their trials,
Baith cauld or stern!
Education means a “Leadin’ oot!”
Raisin’ Scots tae mair than brute,
Improvement’s whit we’re aw’ aboot,
Nae hesitation,
A “Journey” that we ay’ maun foot,
Nae “Destination!
Education’s aw’ aboot communication bit sometimes ye can hae a guid laugh when it goes wrang! Fir example, A wis handin’ back essays in a HND class, A ay’ presented them in alphabetical order bit the class nivir sit thus. Sae A wid jook aw’ aboot the room. Those wha’d got their marks wid call oot tae ask questions. “Here’s your” tae yin student an’ anithir wid ca’ oot “Roger?”, “Jist a minute till A han’ oot the rest please.” “Roger?” someone else wid call. “Hold on, A’ll get tae ye when A can!” “Roger?” “Ach, whae’s ‘Rogerin’ me noo?” Scilence, “Eh, can A re chew thae sentence please!” Howls o’ laughter as they aw’ caught on! Thon’s the problem o’ haein’ a name that’ baith a noun an’ a verb!
As A came in yin mornin', back in the days when we actually had apprentices, A wis cornered by ma boss. He asked me if I’d a class scheduled fir the pool? I said A had a class o’ jiners wha were goin’ tae swim. He informed me that the pool had been closed. I enquired “why?” “One o’ the Cubs who were in last night has, ‘performed in it!’ he advised me. “But don’t tell anyone an’ it’ll be cleaned up as soon as possible.” Fair enough, A went intae the dressin’ room where the class were gettin’ ready. “Sorry guys we canni’ go swimmin’ today, cause the pool’s been closed.” “Ach, why’s that?” “Weeeel, there’s somethin’ in it.” “It’s a shark!” “Naw! Bit yer richt wi’ the furst twa letters!” Did A say onythin’ wrang?
We were skiin’ in the auld Yugoslavia in a resort ca’d Bovets. Kanin, the mountain, sits exactly whaur the warm, moist Adriatic air meets the cauld Siberian air an’ results in FOG!
Very limited snow an’ a superabundance o’ fog made it a gie forgettable experience. Except for twa wicked pieces o’ deliberate miscommunication on ma pert. A few o’ us took the opportunity tae frequent the hotel’s Sauna. Yin o’ the girls (it wis a clothed sauna! afore ye aw’ clear the wrang conclusion frae a staunin’ stert!), Angie, had nivir been in a sauna afore. “Oh, A dinni’ think A’d like it,” she opined. “Ach it’s aw’ right, jist try it an’ relax an’ let the heat clean ye.” “Ok A’ll try it fir a wee while.” She entered. “It's awf’y hot!” “Jist gie it a try, ye’ll get yaised tae it!” A advised. She stayed on the bottom bench. The rest o’ us climbed on tae higher, hotter areas. The heat an’ the claustrophobia o’ the sauna were clearly gettin’ tae Angie. “No! A dinni’ like it!” she emphatically broadcast. Again fir sheer devilment A gave her the logical fallacy, “Aye! Yer richt, Angie, it is ower hot in here. Why dae ye no’ cool it doon a bit by throwin’ some waater oan the coals?” “Oh, that’s a guid idea!” she attested, an’ afore onybudy could stop her she chucked a mug o’ water oan the heater! There wis a slosh, sizzle, followed by a tsunami o’ heat. Angie slowly turned her heid in ma direction, cast me a look o’ betrayed pathos, that couldni’ be beaten by a whipped Spaniel an’ asked, “Did ye ken that wid happen?” She left the sauna mutterin’ some incoherence aboot me no’ bein’ any guid at sellin’ booze, well that's whit A chose tae interpret the “Rotten Bar Steward!” tae mean!
Oan the last nicht o’ the holiday we aw’ decided tae hae a meal in a local restaurant. Maist o’ the group decided tae hae pizza, bit masel’ an’ a young guy chose tae hae a steak. When the the dishes were served A spied a very large chilli bedeckin’ the steaks. The lad enquired, “Whit’s that?” Jist fir a joke A picked it up an’ ate it wi’ relish, (me bein’ o’ the opinion that gin it disni’ burn yer erse, it’s no’ worth eatin’) an proclaimed it tae be a Gerkin! “Oh that’s great, A love Gerkins.” He promptly gobbed the Chilli. His beatific smile froze then slowly chinged as the heat erupted in his mooth! Many o’ the students had caught oan an’ were tryin’ tae stop him eatin’ it, their faces caught in a rictus o’ horror. When he grabbed the waater jug an’ sloshed mair doon his juke than in his gub, they erupted in gales o’ semi-sympathetic laughter. A believe that Angie’s previous assessment o’ ma character wis carried unanimously!
As A came in yin mornin', back in the days when we actually had apprentices, A wis cornered by ma boss. He asked me if I’d a class scheduled fir the pool? I said A had a class o’ jiners wha were goin’ tae swim. He informed me that the pool had been closed. I enquired “why?” “One o’ the Cubs who were in last night has, ‘performed in it!’ he advised me. “But don’t tell anyone an’ it’ll be cleaned up as soon as possible.” Fair enough, A went intae the dressin’ room where the class were gettin’ ready. “Sorry guys we canni’ go swimmin’ today, cause the pool’s been closed.” “Ach, why’s that?” “Weeeel, there’s somethin’ in it.” “It’s a shark!” “Naw! Bit yer richt wi’ the furst twa letters!” Did A say onythin’ wrang?
We were skiin’ in the auld Yugoslavia in a resort ca’d Bovets. Kanin, the mountain, sits exactly whaur the warm, moist Adriatic air meets the cauld Siberian air an’ results in FOG!
Very limited snow an’ a superabundance o’ fog made it a gie forgettable experience. Except for twa wicked pieces o’ deliberate miscommunication on ma pert. A few o’ us took the opportunity tae frequent the hotel’s Sauna. Yin o’ the girls (it wis a clothed sauna! afore ye aw’ clear the wrang conclusion frae a staunin’ stert!), Angie, had nivir been in a sauna afore. “Oh, A dinni’ think A’d like it,” she opined. “Ach it’s aw’ right, jist try it an’ relax an’ let the heat clean ye.” “Ok A’ll try it fir a wee while.” She entered. “It's awf’y hot!” “Jist gie it a try, ye’ll get yaised tae it!” A advised. She stayed on the bottom bench. The rest o’ us climbed on tae higher, hotter areas. The heat an’ the claustrophobia o’ the sauna were clearly gettin’ tae Angie. “No! A dinni’ like it!” she emphatically broadcast. Again fir sheer devilment A gave her the logical fallacy, “Aye! Yer richt, Angie, it is ower hot in here. Why dae ye no’ cool it doon a bit by throwin’ some waater oan the coals?” “Oh, that’s a guid idea!” she attested, an’ afore onybudy could stop her she chucked a mug o’ water oan the heater! There wis a slosh, sizzle, followed by a tsunami o’ heat. Angie slowly turned her heid in ma direction, cast me a look o’ betrayed pathos, that couldni’ be beaten by a whipped Spaniel an’ asked, “Did ye ken that wid happen?” She left the sauna mutterin’ some incoherence aboot me no’ bein’ any guid at sellin’ booze, well that's whit A chose tae interpret the “Rotten Bar Steward!” tae mean!
Oan the last nicht o’ the holiday we aw’ decided tae hae a meal in a local restaurant. Maist o’ the group decided tae hae pizza, bit masel’ an’ a young guy chose tae hae a steak. When the the dishes were served A spied a very large chilli bedeckin’ the steaks. The lad enquired, “Whit’s that?” Jist fir a joke A picked it up an’ ate it wi’ relish, (me bein’ o’ the opinion that gin it disni’ burn yer erse, it’s no’ worth eatin’) an proclaimed it tae be a Gerkin! “Oh that’s great, A love Gerkins.” He promptly gobbed the Chilli. His beatific smile froze then slowly chinged as the heat erupted in his mooth! Many o’ the students had caught oan an’ were tryin’ tae stop him eatin’ it, their faces caught in a rictus o’ horror. When he grabbed the waater jug an’ sloshed mair doon his juke than in his gub, they erupted in gales o’ semi-sympathetic laughter. A believe that Angie’s previous assessment o’ ma character wis carried unanimously!
About the Author
Edinburgh-born Roger McKillop is a retired Sports Studies lecturer. He has been writing poetry in Scots for many years and has had his work published in The Scots Magazine. His pen name is Roger Ceann Maol Beag, which means Wee Roger with the Bald Head!