The Thread about Nothing....



That reminds me, Ryan and I rescued a galah when I was living at my parents about 9 years ago. It was young, reckon it had been hit by a car. The dumbarses like to sit on the road in Morwell to warm up. Anyway, we go home, get a box, chase the ****er around for ten minutes in the vacant block, finally catch it, then I have to make about 6 calls to find someone who’ll take it. Finally I get on to some bloke at Jeeralang.

Drive out there (it’s 20km away), his place is on some side track off the climb they used in the Churchill stage of the Herald Sun Tour a couple of years ago, the one that turned onto the gravel then the hairy descent. It’s pretty country out there, Latrobe Valley is quite pretty off the hwy and away from the coal mines. Anyway, this bloke has a massive menagerie out there. The veranda around the house had every sort of parrot on it, magpies, blue tongue lizards, goannas, raptors, and best of all, a couple of wedge tail eagles. There were multiple big cages away from the house as well that we’re full of birds.

Anyway, the bloke turns up as he’d been up the yard feeding the birds. He looked like that feral wizard out of The Hobbit. Gave him the galah, he reckoned it would be ok, the ****ed off. Must have cost him a fortune to take care of all that wildlife.

We went through a bit of a period of rescuing animals around that time, to the point we called ourselves Animal Rescue Squad Emergency. **** for short.
I've loved a few pages of bird love, but I've gotta say, when you find that galah with your son, it's Your job together with your son, to feed and hopefully repair it. Together at your house. That's the magic that heals ****. You don't outsource that.
Of course you're not professionals and it might die. But that's also an important lesson in caring.
 
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Personal disclosure.
A trait I've been a fan of, and proponent of, on the TAN in years past, and yet I've become brittle. Selfprotective.
Some of which may be a corollary of an adventure in government employment, and teaching per se, versus previous adventures in pure capitalism and selfemployment. It has changed my life. I'm sad to admit it's likely for the worse. Worserer I have become.
I endeavour to turn over an old leaf and attempt to tell my ****ing truth again, because it's becoming oh so clear that playing safe is ruinous; to myself, and even my students who as usual will bully a 21st century teacher to hell, if said teacher doesn't have some pluck to fall back on.
Man up, cnut.

ps I had a great day teaching today/tonight, it almost made up for the sadness of yesterday, when half of my previously favourite class went all Lord of the Flies and surprised me with cruelty. Hmm.
I guess the bottom line is to remind them that I have the conch.
 
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Personal disclosure.
A trait I've been a fan of, and proponent of, on the TAN in years past, and yet I've become brittle. Selfprotective.
Some of which may be a corollary of an adventure in government employment, and teaching per se, versus previous adventures in pure capitalism and selfemployment. It has changed my life. I'm sad to admit it's likely for the worse. Worserer I have become.
I endeavour to turn over an old leaf and attempt to tell my ****ing truth again, because it's becoming oh so clear that playing safe is ruinous; to myself, and even my students who as usual will bully a 21st century teacher to hell, if said teacher doesn't have some pluck to fall back on.
Man up, cnut.

ps I had a great day teaching today/tonight, it almost made up for the sadness of yesterday, when half of my previously favourite class went all Lord of the Flies and surprised me with cruelty. Hmm.
I guess the bottom line is to remind them that I have the conch.
Keep the conch, Beepers, and blow it at will... In fact, if one of your erstwhile students is called Will, blow it specifically at him.
“Be true to thyself, otherwise shite will happen”, as the old Druidic saying goes. It’s all a journey, for you and for each of them. Although the train tracks may be sometimes parallel, they are separate tracks, and have different destinations (running short on analogies now).
If you are true to your own values, it really doesn’t matter whether they align with them or not. They will benefit, even if they aren’t smart enough to realise it at the time.
By the way, being true to yourself is good for your own wellbeing, apart from decreasing the amount of shite that you find yourself swimming in.
 
I endeavour to turn over an old leaf and attempt to tell my ****ing truth again, because it's becoming oh so clear that playing safe is ruinous; to myself, and even my students who as usual will bully a 21st century teacher to hell, if said teacher doesn't have some pluck to fall back on.
Man up, cnut.

ps I had a great day teaching today/tonight, it almost made up for the sadness of yesterday, when half of my previously favourite class went all Lord of the Flies and surprised me with cruelty. Hmm.
I guess the bottom line is to remind them that I have the conch.

(Echoing Eoin)

I can't add much here, but my one great truth after 10 years of uni teaching is that students are people and they're going to span the whole spectrum of human behaviour, from saints to absolute cnuts. On top of this, there's the groupthink (sounds like you got a dose of that yesterday), where the thought leaders (for want of a better word, thought might be too generous) of the cohort tend towards the cnutish end of that spectrum.

And in the end, all you can really do is be your best self and hold up your truth as well as your end of the bargain. Being human and vulnerable (tell them when you stuff up or when things are complicated for you) resonates with lots of students, but there will always be some who just want to complain and kick you when you're down. A few bad comments in student feedback totally messes with my head, because I go above and beyond in trying to help - you can't help everyone, and the real cnuts won't ask for help, just complain.

PS alcohol helps. A lot. Getting the right dose for a given situation is the tricky part.
 
I've loved a few pages of bird love, but I've gotta say, when you find that galah with your son, it's Your job together with your son, to feed and hopefully repair it. Together at your house. That's the magic that heals ****. You don't outsource that.
Of course you're not professionals and it might die. But that's also an important lesson in caring.
No.

If I found a person injured the street I’d call the ambulance. If I find an animal I call the vet or the wildlife wizard bloke. That galah deserved better than me who knows **** all about galahs. I dunno how them ****s eat seeds, they don’t have teeth.
 
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