Love actually
Living in an old house, as I do, the wind makes an impact even on the inside the house. In mine and Meeester’s bedroom there is a gap under the skirting board at the window through which blows Aberdeen’s chillier version of the mistral. This particular wind is designed to go straight up pajama trouser legs and nighties. Every winter we say, “Must fill that gap”, and every summer we forget to do it.
The chilling conditions make the folk from Aberdeen an anthropological mystery. It’s simply far too cold to get naked. How has the race survived in these parts? I mean, Meeester had to stop me from wearing my woolly black hat to bed last night; it was THAT cold. I’m not exactly working the whole sex appeal thing, am I?
And Meeester did have sex on the brain last night. But not for the reasons you’d expect.
For today, as a teacher, Meeester has to do his first ever Sex Education class to a group of Sixth Years (17 year olds). Rightly, he has been taking this very seriously and has been thinking carefully about what it is that he needs to say. It’s a big responsibility and I look forward hugely to hearing how he got on.
I am particularly pleased that Meeester has given this some real thought, as I am one of the millions of eighties kids who came away from sex ed. thinking we’d get AIDS or pregnant if we even thought so much as about it. I seem to remember having to decipher a video with an iceberg in it and then watching a woman giving birth in the seventies in a second production (even in a just hospital gown you could she was in the seventies).
Not one bit of rumpy-pumpy do I remember getting to see, despite a great deal of anticipation to the contrary. It’s a wonder I’m not still a virgin.
Hilariously, one less experienced teacher at Meeester’s school thought it was a good idea to kick start the lesson by simply chalking up as many words for genitalia on the board as she could. Aided by suggestions from the pupils. Now, I haven’t been a teenager for a pretty long time but the idea of a group of teenagers being encouraged to shout out “Fanny! Cock! Knob!” and the rest makes me shake my head in bewilderment. What was she thinking could be gained from such an exercise? That lesson will not go down in student folklore as being the time the students gained a springboard for sexual understanding.
No, that lesson will simply go down in lore as, “That time Mrs Smith wrote ‘Cunt’ on the blackboard.”
By comparison, Meeester thought he should make the lesson useful; maybe impart some wisdom that would let the class in on a few secrets that might otherwise elude them for some time and ask anything they want.
He decided to do some research. His subjects are those who’ve been involved in the shagging game for some considerable time: his friends and family.
I was personally thankful that he didn’t suggest the approach taken by John Cleese in Monty Python’s “The Meaning of Life”. Which you can see here, if you haven’t already.
Meeester decided to ask us all three questions .
Here are the questions he asked us:
- What things would you tell an 18 year old you about sex?
- What is the greatest sex myth?
- What is sex for?
Chillingly he also phoned my parents and asked for their contributions. I did not know he would do this. Stunned, I asked if he had phoned his own parents. He simply went grey and said, “Of course not”.
He got some interesting answers, though. Not least from my folks. I particularly liked my father’s response to the first question.
It was “Chance your arm every time you can. The worst that can happen is she’ll say no”.
What advice would you give the 18 year old you?
I was a teenage pornographer
In 1989 I lived in Cologne in Germany for a year. I was 18/19, and worked as an English Language teaching Assistant in a grammar school in the outskirts of the city. I had, when all is said and done, a pretty good year. I met lots of great people, did lots of great things and generally had a bit of a laugh at the expense of the, as it was then, West German government.
The fact that I had to show up for five and a half days and work at a grammar school, was only a minor inconvenience. The fact that most of my students were the same age as me caused a couple of problems. I may tell you about the more obvious one some other time…..
However, today I am reminded of one particular problem as I read a news item today on IMDB about a teacher who showed the film “Brokeback Mountain” to her high school students. The female teacher is being sued by the grandparents of some of the teenage kids, as the film contains scenes of homosexual lurve action. Here’s the link, if you’re interested in the details. it’s four or five stories down the page:
http://www.imdb.com/news/wenn/2007-05-14/#3
Well, been there, done that! I showed “My Beautiful Launderette” to my Year 8 class (18 year olds). Here’s a quick summary for those of you who don’t remember or maybe haven’t seen “My Beautiful Launderette”.
The film stars Daniel Day Lewis and Saeed Jaffrey and is set in Thatcher’s Britain. It concerns the dealings of an Indian ex-pat entrepreneur (Jaffrey) and his nephew (Gordon Warnecke) whom he places in charge of his latest business acquisition; the launderette. Behind the scenes Uncle is trying to marry off Nephew to other Cousin, unaware that Nephew is getting it on in the back room of the launderette with local skinhead sexy-pants, Daniel Day Lewis.
My reason for showing the film? Well it was, your Honour, entirely innocent. I had, in consultation with the head of English, decided to deliver a project on British culture in the political climate of the eighties. Up until that point we had looked at music, specifically the more intelligent lyrical efforts of “The The”, “The Waterboys” and “The Smiths”. We had watched some excellent TV programmes, like “Boys from the Blackstuff”, “Edge of Darkness” and before-it-got-shit Brookside (it used to be great, honest!). Basically it was a thinly veiled ruse to play music and watch telly and chat about them afterwards.
I decided to show Hanif Kureishi and Stephen Frears “Launderette” because it was about multicultural eighties Britain. Oh… and it was cracking, to boot.
The students loved it….until the English Head walked into the class just before the gay sex scene came on, cueing the longest five minutes of my life. After the scene got going he switched off the TV.
MisssyT, as I was then, was summoned to the Headmaster’s office the next day. Early. He was the only person that called me Fraulein T. Everyone else used my first name.
I was to have all video privileges suspended indefinitely. I would consult my Mentor (teacher in charge of me) on everything I gave out to the students. I was made to feel like a porn peddler. I tried to put it in context. He wasn’t interested.
The next week the students asked to see the end of the film. I told them that we couldn’t and I wasn’t allowed to show any more films. They were a bit fed up about it, but not enough to ask their headmaster for an explanation, or fight my corner. It was only school after all, and watching a video was better than doing real work. But if real work had to be done, they would get on with it.
I saw the film a few years ago on telly and was surprised at how tame that scene was. Perhaps I should be glad that it was 1989 and not 15 years later when I would’ve had “Queer as Folk”, “The L Word” or “Sex and the City” to choose from!.
Apparently the year I left, the headmaster had opted not to take on an English Assistant for the foreseeable future.
I must have hit a nerve…..
I was a teenage Pornmonger (wait til the Googlers see THAT one!)
In 1989 I lived in Cologne in Germany for a year. I was 18/19, and worked as an English Language teaching Assistant in a grammar school in the outskirts of the city. I had, when all is said and done, a pretty good year. I met lots of great people, did lots of great things and generally had a bit of a laugh at the expense of the, as it was then, West German government.
The fact that I had to show up for five and a half days and work at a grammar school, was only a minor inconvenience. The fact that most of my students were the same age as me caused a couple of problems. I may tell you about the more obvious one some other time…..
However, today I am reminded of one particular problem as I read a news item today on IMDB about a teacher who showed the film “Brokeback Mountain” to her high school students. The female teacher is being sued by the grandparents of some of the teenage kids, as the film contains scenes of homosexual lurve action. Here’s the link, if you’re interested in the details. it’s four or five stories down the page:
http://www.imdb.com/news/wenn/2007-05-14/#3
Well, been there, done that! I showed “My Beautiful Launderette” to my Year 8 class (18 year olds). Here’s a quick summary for those of you who don’t remember or maybe haven’t seen “My Beautiful Launderette”.
The film stars Daniel Day Lewis and Saeed Jaffrey and is set in Thatcher’s Britain. It concerns the dealings of an Indian ex-pat entrepreneur (Jaffrey) and his nephew (Gordon Warnecke) whom he places in charge of his latest business acquisition; the launderette. Behind the scenes Uncle is trying to marry off Nephew to other Cousin, unaware that Nephew is getting it on in the back room of the launderette with local skinhead sexy-pants, Daniel Day Lewis.
My reason for showing the film? Well it was, your Honour, entirely innocent. I had, in consultation with the head of English, decided to deliver a project on British culture in the political climate of the eighties. Up until that point we had looked at music, specifically the more intelligent lyrical efforts of “The The”, “The Waterboys” and “The Smiths”. We had watched some excellent TV programmes, like “Boys from the Blackstuff”, “Edge of Darkness” and before-it-got-shit Brookside (it used to be great, honest!). Basically it was a thinly veiled ruse to play music and watch telly and chat about them afterwards.
I decided to show Hanif Kureishi and Stephen Frears “Launderette” because it was about multicultural eighties Britain. Oh… and it was cracking, to boot.
The students loved it….until the English Head walked into the class just before the gay sex scene came on, cueing the longest five minutes of my life. After the scene got going he switched off the TV.
MisssyT, as I was then, was summoned to the Headmaster’s office the next day. Early. He was the only person that called me Fraulein T. Everyone else used my first name.
I was to have all video privileges suspended indefinitely. I would consult my Mentor (teacher in charge of me) on everything I gave out to the students. I was made to feel like a porn peddler. I tried to put it in context. He wasn’t interested.
The next week the students asked to see the end of the film. I told them that we couldn’t and I wasn’t allowed to show any more films. They were a bit fed up about it, but not enough to ask their headmaster for an explanation, or fight my corner. It was only school after all, and watching a video was better than doing real work. But if real work had to be done, they would get on with it.
I saw the film a few years ago on telly and was surprised at how tame that scene was. Perhaps I should be glad that it was 1989 and not 15 years later when I would’ve had “Queer as Folk”, “The L Word” or “Sex and the City” to choose from!.
Apparently the year I left, the headmaster had opted not to take on an English Assistant for the foreseeable future.
I must have hit a nerve…..
