Bad Teacher

I wrote this yesterday and then proceeded to go out and lose my phone. We are now happily reunited so I can finally upload it…

This afternoon I went to a free ‘master class’ in writing news features for charities. The content of the course was actually quite interesting. It was ruined, however, by the entirely lacklustre presentation. The woman who ran the course delivered it with all the enthusiasm of a convict waiting for their execution. At times she seemed to drift off into a world of her own, forgetting her audience (ironic considering one of her key pieces of advice was ‘know your audience’) and mumbling her points. Her decision to ask attendees to send examples of their own press releases in advance of the session and then publicly pick them apart in a group setting was one of the more interesting (read: awkward) techniques I’ve seen on such a course, and when the end was announced you could practically hear the sighs of relief as attendees fled like refugees in a war torn country towards the door.

It’s a good job the course was free or else I would have asked for my money back. It really does amaze me that people with all the charm and charisma of a sponge think teaching others is their vocation.


School’s out

A slight technological hitch meant that yesterday’s post didn’t upload, so here it is….

This morning I attended a training session in the new database system that’s being implemented in my charity. I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I reverted to my old schoolgirl ways: Sitting at the back, allowing myself to be distracted, even scrawling notes to colleagues on pieces of paper (both to get their attention and validate our mutual boredom). I’m not proud of my behaviour, but as I did manage to take in most of what was being taught I don’t feel it was too much to my personal detriment (or to the detriment of those in my immediate vicinity-trust me, at school I could be significantly more disruptive when I wanted to be).

In a sense I was just drunk on the nostalgia of it all; sitting in rows in a classroom, a bespectacled and suitably harassed teacher at the front who was desperately trying to keep everyone’s attention. The conditions were ripe for reverting to childhood type, and I’m afraid I rather predictably did just that.

There were even jammy dodgers at break time! I just didn’t stand a chance….