The Big Man, The Little Man and Lost Fathers

Another Happy Father’s Day

Facebook was running one of their status races, whereby someone spreads a suggestion rather like a Chinese Whisper for people to change their status or their profile picture. There are campaigns for breast cancer with the infamous “bra colour” one that had all Facebooker’s confused until some ‘friend’ let them into the secret. At one point, everyone was asked to change the profile picture to a favourite childhood cartoon to highlight the plight of abused children.

This week it was obviously about fathers. Everyone was asked to get a photo of their fabulous Dad on their profile page. As it happened, I decided I didn’t want to take part. I was grieving enough. This weekend is always hard for me, especially when I am feeling a little down in the dumps anyway.

I spoke to my mum about it, and just said it was one of those things that reminded me once more, as if I needed it, that he was no longer here and I couldn’t talk to him about the very important things going on in my life.

But then I changed my mind. I decided that I wouldn’t put a photo of him up there, mainly because I didn’t want to alarm my siblings; suddenly seeing their Dad smiling out at them without warning. So I chose four pictures from the internet; four things that he loved, that was something to do with him, made a jpeg and posted that instead.

Here is one of the good things about Facebook. I received a couple of comments and a few “likes”. A friend of mine from home who lost her father a couple of years after mine said it reminded her of the times that both of our Dad’s were transporting us around with our ridiculously large musical instruments in the back of their cars. But the poor girl. She probably had to endure the most painful of situations. Her father didn’t die naturally. He was murdered in the most bizarre and seemingly motiveless attack.

Another friend, my brother’s ex-partner, said how much she remembered my Dad and liked the idea of making up this little montage of mine.

Another shared her bereavement with me. We shared our losses together.

And then my sister decided to join in. Only she did post a photo of my Dad; a good one at that. It was one from later in his life and probably the disease was already attacking him. Only we didn’t know.

For some reason, I found the photo just after I parked the car in the supermarket car park, and I just sat there for a while, crying and wishing.

Silly really – I mean it has been some time now, and I really ought to be over this silliness about Father’s Day.

In some ways it is extremely comforting to know that other people are feeling the same sense of loss. It is a healthy reminder that you are not alone and that others grieve too. It helps to stop one being too morose and egotistical to know that others are feeling the same way.

And we can all just stop for a minute, grieve for a moment and then look more positively at the entire situation of grief and embrace the very fact that we are all feeling like this is because we had a wonderful Dad and a wonderful relationship in the first place.

I suppose that is the biggest thing about separation. If the relationship wasn’t that important the loss would be easier to cope with.

Anyway, all of this made me think about the millions of people who have lost their fathers but also those that are suffering this crippling grief in the immediacy of the weekend.

My heart, thoughts and understanding goes out to them all.

And that made me think about two specific fathers who have died this weekend.

The first died on Saturday; the very brilliant, incredibly talented Clarence Clemons, saxophonist of the East Street Band who died of a stroke at the age of 69.

The story of his meeting with Bruce Springsteen is classic. Apparently, he decided to go from one venue where he was performing to another during his break so that he could go and listen to the main man. The night was frightful and as he opened the door, the thing ripped away from its hinges and he was silhouetted in the doorway; this huge man, looking down all menacing on the band on the stage. Apparently, he called out to Bruce that he wanted to play in his band. The “Boss” responded by saying “Sure, you do anything you want!”

I watched him quite closely on stage a couple of years ago and delighted in the passion that you could see in every movement of his hands, in every eager blow of breath as he cascaded the most brilliant of tones from his beloved musical instrument.

The Big Man was everything that his nickname suggested; a big, big man.

Bruce said the loss of Clarence was “immeasurable”.

Here is a quote from him from yesterday.

"Clarence lived a wonderful life. He carried within him a love of people that made them love him. He created a wondrous and extended family. He loved the saxophone, loved our fans and gave everything he had every night he stepped on stage. His loss is immeasurable and we are honored and thankful to have known him and had the opportunity to stand beside him for nearly forty years. He was my great friend, my partner and with Clarence at my side, my band and I were able to tell a story far deeper than those simply contained in our music. His life, his memory, and his love will live on in that story and in our band."

What a fitting tribute; nothing more to add, other than I hope his sons and the rest of his family will be able to celebrate his life, his passion and realise what an incredibly Big Man he was.

The other death was Brian Haw; not necessarily a household name. Not famed for his musical talents or acting ability. Brian Haw was just an ordinary man who felt so passionate about love, peace and justice – for all, that he had to do something out of the ordinary.

For ten years, despite parliamentary legislation, despite the mayor of London trying to move him on, despite the Met trying to destroy his actions, despite the council trying to get eviction orders, this man camped outside our symbol of democracy to protest against the inhumanities of the Iraq and Afghanistan.

People probably thought the man was a little insane, but passion sometimes does that. Sometimes passion is far from rational but it is also so vital that you cannot turn your back on it.

This man gave up his life for something that he felt he needed to do, he had to do, and one has to respect him for the immense sacrifice that he made.

Did he make a difference? Well, we still went into the stupid wars but his very presence reminded every visitor, every worker, every MP in the building that there was public abhorrence at their behaviour; at the wrongness of these wars.

But he didn’t stop there. Once there, he embraced other campaigns. He fought against the muslim phobia that has crept into our society. He welcomed fellow actions from the Sri Lankan consortium who also camped out on Parliament Square.

He kept that megaphone firmly in tune, just as Clarence played his saxophone.

He was a passionate man.

I do hope that some organisation, perhaps Amnesty or a Peace Organisation will consider campaigning for a permanent reminder of his efforts to be placed in front of the Houses of Parliament as a gentle reminder to all those within that the man on the street is the real democratic voice of the country. The Little Man is the conscience that they sometimes wilfully ignore.

This Little Man did his bit. I rather like the idea of a bronze statue being placed next to Winston Churchill on those hallowed greens.

(I have just found this wonderful obituary from Tony Benn - http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/jun/20/brian-haw-death-iraq-war-protester?INTCMP=SRCH)

So in celebration of fathers, in celebration of passion, here is to the many men throughout the world who have made a difference to one or many.

Cheese and Peas and Oh Dearie Me!

Once upon a time, a young woman walked around London one warm Saturday evening and searched in vain for somewhere to eat. Oh yes, she dismissed the lovely looking Italian because she didn’t like pasta. She walked straight passed the Pizza Place because she didn’t like cheese. She wandered by when she saw the French restaurant because they don’t know how to cook their meat!

And so on and so forth, until she came across a crappy chain of Garfunkel’s and tucked into a small steak and stringy chips that had neither character or indeed taste.

The same woman was once a young girl who did not eat her greens, and was told by siblings and friends that she would end up getting scurvy through lack of vitamins circulating through her body. Her mother took her to the doctor to surreptitiously beg him to give her a severe health warning about her appalling diet. His response? “I knew someone who lived off baked beans and dried toast!”

Very helpful.

This woman has moved on. She eats cheese (when it is melted, apart from goat’s cheese which is more than acceptable to her palette. She eats tomatoes but only when they are mushed. She eats peppers and onions, mushrooms and ................. oh dearie me, that’s where it ends. She might sneak a smashed aubergine passed her lips or a small piece of chopped carrots but only when it is severely disguised through other flavours in the dish.

Quite honestly, she’s a bit pathetic and she knows it.

She wishes that she could love the flavour of fish and cheese and red wine and lettuce leaves and raw tomatoes and runner beans and eggs and vegetable soup and peas. Oh yes, let’s not forget those insipid little monsters that have been the bane of her life and have become the symbol for her idiosyncrasies.

But seriously, what is it that makes someone so potty? What is that makes someone unable to try let alone enjoy these sweet savours?

Sometimes I genuinely worry about it. Now there is a surprise for anyone who knows me!

I’d love to be able to devour fruit with the same enthusiasm I hold for a bar of Galaxy. I’d love to be able to make up a vegetable stir fry and delight in the crispness of the un-e-colied beansprouts. I’d love to be able to walk down the High Street and not have to dismiss every other restaurant because the challenge to find something for me to eat may be too great.

Is it the taste, the look, the texture or just plain obstinacy? Why does it fill me with fear? It’s not really normal is it?

The bonus for those around her is that they manage to pick up an additional pot of deliciousness as she slides salads and vegetables away from her plate for them to consume!

Of course, my vegetable issues are somewhat extreme but it did make me giggle a little when I read this article on the weekend from Stewart Lee.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/jun/12/stewart-lee-vegetables-fruit-bad?INTCMP=SRCH

He’s a strange bloke, our Stewart, but has the most incredibly quirky sense of humour.

Is his admission to not eating any fruit or vegetables merely a comic exaggeration? Somehow I doubt it. I could quite imagine Mr. Lee not eating vegetables unless they are bound into a curry, chilli or lasagne in the way that I do.

But it did make me laugh when he said

“What actual evidence is there for the benefits of vegetables, the worms of the food world, scrabbling in the dirt, or of fruits, hanging limply from branches, like plastic bags full of dog excrement hurled into the trees of an East Anglian layby?.......................... What evidence is there for the supposedly health-giving properties of these soil-encrusted tubers and these repulsive, squashy sacks of sticky juice and seed? Isn't it time we rejected fruits and vegetables?

And I really love his thoughts on David Cameron’s true diet, and his reasons behind them.

Secretly, Cameron exists solely on a diet of nothing but Eton mess, a dessert concocted from strawberries, cream, meringue, mess and pieces of digestives left over from the historic "biscuit game", still played in Eton dormitories on the day of the costly school's annual cricket contest against Winchester College. But, typically, while Cameron guzzles the mess of the elite, he expects you and I to suck our nourishment from the dirt.

So funny!

And then there is his comment about his lack of fruit and vegetable consumption.

I never eat fruits or vegetables at all, ever, and neither did my father before me, and while I am constipated, fat, breathless and weak, I am not yet dead. I can still manage to slither across the floor to my laptop every day to dribble out my interesting thoughts for money.

But my favourite comment from the article, apart from the one about Berlusconi inviting vegetables into his house, but be assured it was only to be in a lasagne, was his comment about the people who eat vegetables.

Eating fruit and vegetables keeps you simple and stupid. It is no coincidence that they are the favoured foodstuff of athletes and sports people, simpletons who can be tricked into leaping and running upon the sound of a pistol, for no obvious practical purpose.

I’m feeling better already!

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Of course, Stewart is wrong. There is plenty of evidence that fruit and vegetables are vital to our wellbeing and a source of many a nutrient that we cannot possibly acquire from other more tempting foods that we mange on. And whilst I may have been a little smug about the fact that I was far from likely to be contaminated by a water-cress, cucumber and bean sprout salad during the most recent of e-coli outbreaks, it is hardly a worthwhile argument for continued abstinence.

The Archbishop of St. Albion

Oh be-Jesus! As if I wasn’t struggling enough! As if I hadn’t had enough to challenge me recently!

First, I wake up to the news that Woodhead has been knighted and seconds later, for some light relief, I turn to the newspaper to find Tony Blair staring out at me with his oh-so-sincere face.

ALERT: For those of a gentle disposition who do not want to lose sight of their natural pacifist view of life please enter the link with caution.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2011/jun/12/tonyblair

So, having read this, should I just switch off and do some meditation? Quite frankly, at present I wish to keep my mind alert and alive. I am meditating constantly at the moment and I think I need to divert the full force of my passion to my writing at present. So I have decided to respond to Mr. Blair by adding my own comments to his “This Much I Know” interview.

There is certainly plenty in this piece that requires comment and needs highlighting.

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Sometimes it feels strange not to be prime minister – if you are at an occasion like the Obama speech, for example. But then you also have to remember what it was really like: the enormous responsibility, the huge daily pressure. I had 10 years of that, and I am not at all into looking backwards

.

For far too many years, every time I heard the phrase “The Prime Minister” on the radio or television, I had a vision of a woman in blue, clutching her handbag and opening her mouth with that patronising tone of hers. It took me years to come to terms with the fact that she was no longer PM. Years into Tony’s premiership, I still thought of the main minister as Thatcher and even now, after 20 years of her not being the leader, the image still haunts me whenever I hear the phrase.

A little bit of honesty from Tony then? “It’s strange not to be Prime Minister.......... I am not at all into looking back” I bet he isn’t. I wouldn’t want to look back if I was in his position but it is clear from his contextual statement that he felt some discomfort that he could not stand next to the greatness of a man like Obama as leader, such is his delusional state of grandeur.

I've met Michael Sheen, and I watched the Brian Clough film, which I thought was brilliant. But I haven't seen him playing me. I know I'd just be screaming at the TV: "It wasn't like that at all!

"

Oh but it was like that Tony, and perhaps the more honest statement would have been that Michael Sheen’s portrayal of you was too accurate, too vivid and you could not really stomach the reality of what was being shown.

I have always been very certain about my ethical values, but I have always tried to have the appropriate level of self-doubt about the solutions they suggest

Thank goodness for that! Heaven knows what might have happened if he had actually followed his ethical values. For if he is, as reported, a devout follower of Catholicism, then we should indeed be incredibly grateful that he did not allow his ethical values to dictate all of the policies that he put in place whilst in power. Here’s another thing Tony. I am not convinced that the positive aspects of your ethical values, if indeed there were any, ever came to legislative fruition during your reign.

I was in Brazil working at the time of the royal wedding. They have their protocols and it didn't trouble me in the least that I wasn't there. I was absolutely fine about it. Really. And that's the honest truth.

I wonder where Tony Bliar got the label of being a liar? “They have their protocols”. In fact I actually thought the royal family not inviting Bliar and Brown to the party of the year was such a mindless and petty thing to do, that actually showed them up for what they really are. If Tony had the guts, he should say so. As the reader may have gathered, I hold no particular admiration for the man but I hold less or as little for the institution of the Royal Family, and their disregard for the Labour Party PMs by not inviting them to the wedding was so pathetic really.

People still ask me if military decisions in Iraq or Afghanistan were based on some kind of divine instruction. It's rubbish. Of course not. Just as I couldn't go into a corner and pray to ask God what the minimum wage should be.

Pity you didn’t go into a corner and pray about the minimum wage. Pity you didn’t go into a corner and pray about education and the real value of learning. Pity you didn’t go into a corner and prevent accountants and civil servants from running our key professional servers in health and education and social care and housing. Pity you didn’t go into a corner and pray about lots of things. And that is even before we get onto the whole Iraq debacle.

Only I didn’t want my PM to go into a corner and pray but I would like to think that my PM spent some time looking at his own moral framework. I would quite like my PM to spend some time each day considering and meditating on his role and what he could do to make a difference to the lives of the masses. I would like a LABOUR PM to have some sort of moral framework that he referred to as he developed societal changes that were supposed to narrow the inequalities gaps!

I was a child of the 70s, not the 60s. It's a very important difference. I came out of university in 1975. Life had got tougher. Idealism wasn't enough; we were far more practically focused.

Ah! Finally a piece of self-reflection that gets to the heart of the matter and tells a thousand stories!

So, so true Tony. The ideas that were formed in the 60s were partially buried by the time that Blair left university. Harold Wilson was in power. There was turmoil and battle in the industries of our nation. Didn’t you learn anything from this, Tony? Apparently you did! The idealism should always be enough in so far that values should drive the practicalities of change. Without idealism you are left with no real purpose, no inspiration, no understanding of what you are hoping to achieve. Without idealism, you can lose your way as was so clearly demonstrated with the stance on Iraq. The pragmatism that dictated your premiership was abundantly clear to those who chose to look, whilst those same people were desperately waiting for some ideology to seep forth. And here is another thing Tony, some of those who were waiting weren’t around in the 60s either. Some of us were born in the 60s and yet we have still managed to maintain a vision and a hope based on idealism of equality, liberty and fraternity – I think I am in the wrong country!

To be faith-literate is crucial in a globalised world, I believe. I read the Bible every day. I read the Qur'an every day. Partly to understand some of the things happening in the world, but mainly just because it is immensely instructive.

And what of the readings of Confucius or the Buddha? Have you considered any of those? How about some Zen writing or some humanist ideas? Do you read these? Do you make time to look at some of the millions of brilliant and thought provoking blogs from real people who are “people literate” and that their “faith” is all about the needs of humanity?

Haven’t the majority of world problems originated from the very faiths that you are reading about on a daily basis? Have they ever come up with a solution to the problems of the world? Is there not a certain amount of futility in doing this daily task? In your first comment, you said that you did not do introspection so why continue to read these anachronistic texts when they give so little insight into our world today. That is not to say there is nothing to learn from either of these texts. Both the Bible and the Koran offer a wealth of spiritual guidance but there is also a mass of scary stuff in there too!

Reports of my wealth are greatly exaggerated

.

So how much does the former PM earn? If they are grossly exaggerated why do you feel that you cannot be honest about how much you are earning doing the circuits of sycophants? I wish I could have a mere fraction of your earnings to get me started on my new life.

In actual fact, I don’t give a toss about what you are earning. It pales into insignificance compared with the other things that I take issue with.

The experiment that said "the bigger the state, the more just the society" clearly failed. There is no point pretending that it didn't.

Then bloody well say so. Loud and Clear. YOU FUCKED UP!

Enable real progressives in the party to move on and accept that many of your policies did not do anything to address the imbalance in our society. By not clearly stating that the domination of central government, with all its quangoes and tests and targets and quantifiable evidence, did nothing to narrow the appalling gaps in our society, you are disabling those who sadly served in your government from getting on and rethinking the whole role and responsibility of reasonable governance. You need to say something really big and I would nearly respect you for doing so. You need to say, “I was wrong”. And then you need to shut up and let some people get on with looking at what socialism in the 21^st century should actually look like.

I would never have used Peter Mandelson's phrase about being relaxed about people getting filthy rich. But should Lionel Messi – or an investment banker – earn more in a week than a nurse earns in five years? You can debate that, but I don't know the answer. One thing I am sure of is that the way to make poor people better off is not just to target a wealthier group of people and take their money off them

.

Bloody hell! Bloody hell? “but I don’t know the answer”!!!!!!!!!!!

I do!

I’m not one for overuse of exclamation marks. It actually really annoys me to see it in writing but for goodness sake.

So you don’t know the answer then Tony. You cannot ascertain whether a care worker who spends hours and hours and hours comforting, supporting, enabling, caring for the disaffected, the ill, the homeless, the disadvantaged in our world deserve so much less than a man who plays football for 90 or 180 minutes a week, spends time on the golf course and has his dick tickled by whoever takes his fancy (not that this is a problem, of course).

You don’t know?

Clearly, the whole economics of earnings is not simple. The horse has bolted and it is going to be difficult to turn these injustices around. However, we cannot simply sit there and say that we “don’t know” whether this is right or wrong. Morally, it is clearly wrong that a man who plays with other peoples’ money rather than caring for their wellbeing should not be earning as much money as the more altruistic in society. The fact that this situation exists is wrong in every single way.

Poor people may not get rich on the assets of the few but it might be a good starting point!

The most fascinating thing to me now is learning about the places where I work. In the Israeli-Palestinian situation, for example, my understanding is significant layers deeper and better than it was when I was prime minister

.

Oh dear, my brain is aching. Perhaps I ought to stop doing this but I feel a passion to speak. I can’t speak to the man himself so this is what I have to do.

Me, me, me.

So here is a decent admission. As Prime Minister I had no real idea of how the world was working. So here is a solution. How about actually using information from people who know what they are talking about? How about talking to teachers about education rather than rely on so-called experts like Woodhead? How about following up with some of the children that were seen in a recent Despatches document about what life in Palestine is really like rather than relying on the Mossad influenced specialists of the region? How about listening to the people? Oh that’s right – you answer that one next.

People always used to say to me: listen to the people. That was a fine idea, of course, but unfortunately the people were all saying different things

.

Of course people say different things. Guess what Tony, sometimes you get some people, good people, honest people who say different things than what they said yesterday, that forget what they have said and believe that they had never said the things that you know they said. Get real! This is the way of the world.

Our lives, ourselves are such complex things that of course there are differences of opinions. Sometimes these differences can be overcome, sometimes there is no possibility of compromise but we still have to live and we still have to listen, even if there is conflicting opinions, even if it doesn’t marry with what you want to hear.

Tony, people are always going to say different things. It is up to you, and all of us, as intelligent human beings to make informed, empathetic, valued decisions based on all that has been heard. Surely to goodness you know that!

But I suppose when it comes down to it, it is the survival of the fittest. Those with the biggest gobs, with the largest bank accounts, with the ability to bully and indoctrinate win a battle which should never be a war in the first place.

The social media, I know, is having an enormous impact in places like the West Bank and Gaza. But I've not tweeted. Wouldn't know how.

Thank goodness for that. I’m not sure I could cope with TonyTweet.

I was a very different prime minister at the beginning to the one I was at the end. The irony is I was probably best at the job at the end, but least popular in doing it.

More delusion Tony! Don’t even get me started on this one.

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So there we have it – the world according to the Archbishop of St. Albion on this day of Pentecost. I think I will return to the Archbishop of Canterbury for some interesting reading today.

A Morning Glory

Wonderful, wonderful news! Not that I am particularly interested in Honours Lists, which is why I have only just discovered the news but it seems that David Griffiths, a head teacher of some twenty plus years, has received a knighthood for his services to education.

David had taught for many years, had a keen focus and interest on literacy and became a head teacher in a deprived area of the country at the time of significant governmental influences in the abhorrent reign of Ma Thatch.

He resolutely stuck to his principled belief that education was about empowering young people to love learning, to be excited and challenged by the world around them, to understand the joys as well as the needs of a life of literacy and to develop their whole being; physically, spiritually, morally, socially, personally.

An Ofsted report from David’s school highlighted the utter brilliance of a creative curriculum that enabled young people to freely learn and develop wholly as human beings who were going stand a far greater chance in life than those who had merely been spoon-fed a diet of unadulterated boredom of tests and facts and preparations for adult life. Okay, the report didn’t quite say that but that was the gist of the thing.

Thank goodness there are still people like David Griffiths serving education and making sure that real education exists for those who need it most.

Thank goodness for David Griffiths.

Only he doesn’t bloody well exist.

He is a figment of my furious imagination.

There may well be some Derek Griffiths-like head teachers out there but they are a) certainly not going to be rewarded in this way or b) they are so frightened of voicing their opinions and sharing their views about what education really ought to be about that they are best served by burying their heads, keeping away from inspectorate and local authority lunatics and getting on with the unappreciated task of supporting young people in their growth and development, in the manner that they know is going to nurture them most effectively.

No, Derek Griffiths doesn’t exist but bloody Chris Woodhead does!

Remember him? One of the so-called “Wise Men” of education? The man who became the Chief Inspector at Ofsted and ended up having to resign because of the influence that he had mustered to overrule a decision on Islington Green School, ensuring they were listed as failing despite the inspectors finding no evidence to back this up? The man who thought that education was purely about standards, standards and standards? The man who has crippled education in this country to the point of seemingly no return? The man who continues to mouth off about the inadequacies of an education system as soon as someone tries to mend the appalling mess he created? The man who now heads up an organisation that owns and runs independent schools, showing that he never really had an interest in the poor sods whose educational experience have been utterly scarred by the diktats of this man who knew NOTHING about their lives, their needs for a real and purposeful education?

I am incandescent but not entirely surprised. It was bound to happen, especially when you’d got another set of lunatics in power who also know nothing about education but quite like the idea of what Woodhead stands for; the glorification of exam results at the expense of real learning.

Look at the link below to see that I am not alone in my views on this man and what he did for education in this country.

http://community.tes.co.uk/forums/p/495824/6800147.aspx

Oh pity, pity, pity.

Chris Woodhead was and continues to be wrong about education. Yet because of the fact that these politicians who hold the real power of how our education system develops, and not those who actually are educationalists, decided that this man was some sort of gobby genius, they went along with his views on education, crippling thousands of pupils, stifling thousands of excellent, imaginative teachers and creating the sort of havoc for our youth that was so clearly reflected in the Unicef “league table of child wellbeing”.

This is a crime against humanity; admittedly not as clear as certain atrocities like Rwanda but the lasting effect of these policies are going to be damaging our young people for years to come, as well as the fact that they have already created a generation of disaffected people whose needs were never truly met because the enlightened amongst us were extinguished with a vehement hose of vitriol.

And it is no good blaming the Tories. This block of wood was head of Ofsted when a certain Tony Blair took office. Teachers up and down the country pathetically assumed that the Saviour from Sedgefield would have Woodhead in his office within days of being in power, giving him his cards with a boot up the backside. But not our Tone! Oh no! He let the bastard continue in his job, creating more havoc, giving him more powers, ruining more lives.

And now, Tone’s rightful successor has ensured that this man is honoured; probably done so before he pops his clogs from the Motor Neurone Disease which now afflicts him. As someone points out on the link above, perhaps there is such a thing as Karma.

But returning to my fictional head teacher, one day Derek Griffiths will be recognised and so too will the many like him who stuck to their beliefs and values about what education should be about.

I have to be optimistic. I have to believe that rational and reasoned views on education will eventually cycle back round to lead the way, and one day, one day, I hope that a certain Chris Woodhead will be a forgotten man, vilified for his destructive stance and reduced in history to a man who knew NOTHING!