Poor Tressy

 I’ve seen the Barbie film and I thought it was great. A proper film-nerds film that was funny and subtly irreverent. It is not a kids film, although I suspect how you see the film will vary depending on who you are. I can imagine people in their early thirties tipping into existential crisis while the Long Suffering Husband was agreeing with every word of the Godfather mansplaining while I was laughing (probably too loudly) at her feet.

If you look up film times Google will annoy you

Before I went I had seen a lot of commentary on the issues around Barbie, as a doll that feminists had issues with. Women slightly younger than me. My generation were just grateful to not have to play with babies, although the gross fascination of Tiny Tears’ bodily functions will never not be cool. Admittedly, having grown up dolls whose sole purpose was to teach you how to look pretty wasn’t great either but it was, at least, a different kind of future. 

During my childhood in the UK in the early Seventies Barbie had been rejected by children for the more realistic looking Sindy. Sindy was the doll we all wanted. Barbie was, well, just a little spiky. 

History will tell you that it was a feminist rejection of Barbie because of her tiny feet, too-skinny frame and huge knockers that made Mattel dream up all her jobs but it was just that girls preferred Sindy, especially in the UK.  Mattel used the feminist argument in its marketing to create the choice. Were you team Barbie or team Sindy?

Women slightly younger than me will tell of how they secretly wanted Barbie but weren’t allowed because she was the ‘wrong type of woman.’ This was still a slight hangover when my daughter was wanting dolls. I remember mums (slightly younger than me) recoiling with horror that I let my daughter play with Barbie. My argument was that I let her play with a teddy bear but I didn’t expect that she’d grow up to want to be one. 

Maybe I should have been more concerned with the rampant consumerism and production of plastic but I grew up in a household where we couldn’t always have what we wanted, so she had all the Barbies. 

I remember really wanting a Sindy doll. I must have been about six or seven and a new ballerina version had come on the market. She was me. She had blond hair and big blue eyes, ballet tights and shoes, a purple tutu and a crossover sleeveless jumper. I can picture it because it was exactly the same as what I had to wear for my ballet lessons in the dusty-floored church hall, opposite the pub where Dad stopped on the way back from ‘emergencies’.

Money was tight then. My sister had just been born, my parents had brought a new house for £5000 and the overtime emergencies, where Dad was called out to fix any problem in any telephone exchange in Essex, hadn’t properly kicked in. Mum was sympathetic to my want but it just wasn’t possible. 

Our neighbour, Aunty Mary who had a canary up the leg of her drawers, had a grown up daughter, Caroline, who didn’t play with her doll any more and so a solution was found. I inherited her doll and all of the clothes.

However.

Horror of horrors. She wasn’t even a Sindy. No. This abomination of a free gift was a Tressy doll. She had dark hair that pulled out from the middle of her head, so that she could have long or short hair. And she always looked sideways as though she were a spy on a street corner. 

I hated her.

At first.

Then she grew on me. The hair thing was cool and with  the amount of clothes she could look different three times a day and not get boring. I embraced her implied job with MI5 and she helped me notice things.

With all the talk of Barbie vs Sindy I thought I’d share this memory for all the other forgotten Tressy dolls, who never really got mentioned in the controversy. 

First day suggestion

 This is your first day of the holiday. Six weeks seems like a long time. You can lie in bed and read a book. You’ve earned it. Ignore the children fighting over the TV remote control or the dog whining for a walk. Take it easy.

Yes, I know you have a list of things you must do. There are friends you have to see with no excuse of, “I’m sorry, I’m too tired I have 30 cats to wrestle in the morning.” Theatre. Cinema. Eating. Walking. Your To Be Read (TBR) pile hasn’t got any shorter. You might have a project on the go; a watercolour to paint, a novel to write or a court book to transcribe.

There is also the work you brought home that you didn’t quite have time for …but not today. It can wait. It can probably wait 5 1/2 weeks and if we are honest, it probably will. 

My one tip, though, is that you unpack the bags today. The last day will have been stressful. There will be a piece of uneaten fruit somewhere in your bag. You probably didn’t eat the crust of your sandwich because you only had stale bread in the house. No one needs to find a mouldy crust at the end of August. I only hope I remember to follow my own advice.

Are We There Yet?

 “One more day. One day more.”

The refrain from Les Mis echoes along the halls as teachers pack their houseplants and enough paperwork to keep a team of secretaries employed for a year into boxes. 

And what a year it’s been. No one saw that coming. This time last year we tumbled noisily into the local pub, exhausted from Ofsted in the last week of term during a heatwave and thought to ourselves how much better it would feel next year.

Maybe I’m just getting old but it’s been exhausting.

The stress of working in a funded deprived situation where the consequences of not plugging the gaps yourself are that small people don’t get what they deserve has taken a toll on us all. 

Our year 6 show that we chose this year, by the amazing Edgy Productions, had a song called, “Are we there yet?”, which has been buzzing around my head for weeks. 

The opening song, however, is more appropriate for today because at 3.30 we are there. 

“We’ve gained some wrinkles a few grey hairs. Recuperation is so appealing. No more strife and no more stressed. My oh my how we’ve been blessed, bring on our summer vacation.”

There will be tears as a whole year group says goodbye and we will, once again, stumble noisily into the local pub telling ourselves that it will be better next year. Warning: 

What rhymes with Jeremy?

 There was speculation that the teacher’s strike would never be over. The pay review body recommended 6.5%. The government stalled. The chancellor, Mr Hunt, said that if the Department of Education  wanted to give that recommended pay rise then it would have to come out of existing budgets.

This was discussed over the staff room stable at an end of term meeting, where frazzled teachers with more to fit in, in the time that’s left, despaired. How to handle the following week’s ‘sexy time’ lessons made way for fears that the strikes would never be over. 

No one likes strikes, particularly those losing pay and time to finish all their work. 

“It’s all the fault of Jeremy Rhymes with…..,” said one teacher. 

Among the murmurs of agreement were a few questioning, ‘What rhymes with Jeremy?’ And although my first thought was ‘enemy’, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. My overly stressed brain is procrastinating with the thought. I wake up in the middle of the night.

Jeremy wants to stop prosperity.

Jeremy should be in therapy.

Is Jeremy really necessary?

Jeremy has a slug’s dexterity.

Jeremy should resign voluntarily. 

Jeremy is inciting union solidarity.

Jeremy would like to return to the days of barony.

Jeremy doesn’t understand parity.

The idea of Jeremy’s demise causes some hilarity. 

Jeremy could be verily and merrily dismissed with sincerity by the military.

Jeremy is a parody.

And so on. Every night for two weeks.

However, it turns out that the Department of Education have bigger balls than Jeremy (or a surplus in their own budget, which they haven’t been using) and were able to fund an extra 3% of pay rise. Most schools have budgeted for 3% so they only have to find the 1/2%. Simple. No problem at all. Everyone is mightily relieved. 

Maybe I can stop rhyming in my sleep now and leave the rhyming to Fascinating Aida for their next tour.

WTAF

 I’ve just seen this headline.

And all I can say is, “What the actual f…..?”

Make savings?

From where?

Less staff?

Don’t fix buildings?

Chop two legs off because it’s cheaper than waiting until the second gets an infection?

Don’t buy bandages, tear up old rags.

Sew extra pages into exercise books, ban photocopying, hide the glue sticks  (oh wait we are doing that)

Oh dear.

We are in for some very bumpy times. 

The 4% wasn’t fully funded for most schools (many headteachers felt they had enough extra in their budget to fund 2.5%) and it was this effect on the children that was making most teachers take strike action in the first place.

Greed over Need

 'Have you seen.......'

'More houses....'

'It's too crowded.....'

'Oh no, that's really near me.....'

There's a lot of talk in our town at the moment.  A building company have hired the Community Centre to show the town their plans for building on a farmer's field.  Two hundred and seventy five, high quality low carbon homes. They know people won't like it. They also know that if they are clever that doesn't matter.

The government has set a target of new home building, which our area, contrary to how it feels, is falling short of.  https://www.essexlive.news/news/essex-news/maldon-planners-must-find-space-6504056 The council is currently reviewing it's public responses to the consultation that I guess very few people completed before announcing it's new Local Development Plan.

The council would rather grant large developments, asking developers to build, roads or schools as the price for their profit. They believe that it gives them an element of control, in that they can then turn down applications for development that they do not agree with.  

So far, I can't quite commit to what I think, so I'm doing a Boris. This could be my Brexit article and I could end up deciding that something that is plainly bonkers is right. 

Reasons for being pro development on this site

1. I'm old. I'm fatigued. The fight has gone out of me. Can I be bothered to argue about something that is going to happen anyway?

2. It's a field next to a busy road. Think of the bunnies that won't get run over. (Don't picture Watership Down)

3. People have to live somewhere. Why not our lovely town?

4. I bought a house on a 'new estate' (29 years ago) and it made me so happy I'm still here, contributing to the town. Not every new thing is bad.

5. I don't want to be one of those moany old people who complains about everything.

6. I hardly ever drive so the extra traffic doesn't affect me too much.

7. Biodiversity:  Melissa Harrison, in Stubborn Light of Things said that you get greater biodiversity if a field is turned into houses. Individual gardens, where people are taking more responsibility for nature, such as feeding birds, planting a variety of flowers, leaving mess for wildlife creates more habitats than a sprayed farmers field. I think about that often and although it feels wrong it absolutely makes sense.

8. The alternative: A new town (or garden village, as they are calling it these days because of Basildon and Stevenage) takes away from the original town, rather than adding to it and when the people who brought into the idea of living it in grow up it ends up a wasteland of architecture that is no longer fashionable.

9. More people living here means more money in the town. More coffee shops. Less chance of the library being closed.  

10. Large developments usually come with a promise to build some starter homes meaning that our young people may not have to move away. 

Reasons for being against a development on this site.

1. The town is currently expanding enormously.  There are over 1000 new homes being built on each side of the town. Maybe it's too soon?

2. Those 2000+ homes haven't been sold yet. There is no guarantee that there is the demand.

3. There are infrastructure problems with the town that have yet to be resolved for the extra houses currently being built. Our doctor's surgeries are on their knees and barely coping as it is. Our senior school will be the largest in the country and as such can't recruit a headteacher..

4. Although I don't drive much I can see that the roads are much busier than they were. It often takes 20 minutes to get out of the end of our road now. 

5. They never plan roads properly.

6. Everything is such a mess while building work happens.

7. I love this field as it's quiet walk to the cemetery, or it was until this company compelled the whole town to walk there just to see what they were against.

8. The field contains my favourite tree. (Someone else seems to have named it Clive, which I don't object to)

9. The company are claiming they are going to build 'low carbon homes'. Who will check these credentials and hold them to account?  Will they build them with solar panels, heat exchange pumps, water filtration systems? No. Because the government haven't told them they have to, so they will do as little as they can to pretend they are helping the environment.  Plant a tree in Norway, refill a plastic soap bottle or take fewer flights to places they weren't going anyway. Yes, I am cynical.

10. The company are called LSL partners. (London Strategic Land) and they are an investment company whose website says that their mission is to create better housing for Greater London by investing in largely brownfield properties. Our town isn't in Greater London, doesn't even have a train station and the field is green because the wheat is not yet ready to harvest. (Yes, I do know what brownfield means, it was a joke because this isn’t it.)

11. As an investment company they won't be doing the building anyway and will farm the project off to whoever will offer the most money, therefore needing to keep their costs down and abandoning all promises of low carbon housing.

12. Their website shows huge tower blocks clad in green, Grenfell type, fire inducing plastic.

13. This site was on the original list when the last Council LDP was produced. It was rejected because access was difficult/inappropriate. Access is still difficult.

14. The field runs next to the cemetery and particularly the woodland burial part. Somehow this feels inappropriate, although the last time I checked the dead don't have an opinion on houses.

15. It seems morally repugnant to offer a farmer more money than they can make in their lifetime on a field of wheat at a time when climate change, Brexit and wars in the breadbasket of the world are suggesting that we should be securing our own food security.

So, I have more on the JUST SAY NO list. I think this development suggestion is a case of greed over need.

I have no objection to the building of housing if it is needed but I have no desire to reward rich people who are looking to make a quick profit.

The public consultation is open to anyone and although my first point about being and old, tired woman with little fight left still stands it might be worth asking some polite questions.

Maldon Woods Consultation

Dear Ofsted

 Dear Ofsted,

You do realise that you have made everything so much worse?

That poor family, who lost a loved one because she couldn’t bear the shame of the judgement you made of her.

You told the world that she was inadequate so she killed herself, her family say.

After her death, you revisit and now the school, the same school, the same school, reeling from the tragic death of its beloved head teacher, you now say is ‘good’. 

You’ve moved the school up two levels of rating.

And what has changed?

Only one thing.

Well done Ofsted. 

Raising standards by destroying lives

I can’t help thinking that are kinder ways to remove headteachers you believe to be inadequate.

I was neutral about Ofsted but now I do not know why anyone would let them into their school.