Individuality

We are all told 'It's good to be original; not to follow the crowd; express yourself" etc etc blah blah drone drone. So, if that is the case, why is it when somebody DOES do precisely that they are either highlighted as an object of ridicule or subjected to disapproval for not trying to 'fit in'?

Two examples from La Vie Angevin come to mind. Firstly, and most personally, is the issue of my spectacles. I am VERY short sighted - Vision Express refuse to deal with me ("We don't serve the blind" as one less-than-tactful-salesman in the Oxford branch informed me) and have been since I was seven so I am fairly experienced with regard to choosing frames. I have the sort of face which cannot 'take' small frames - I look like the village idiot or an escapee from a mental institution if I wear them - and so I usually do my damn'dest to find the largest specs I can (I recommend Cutler and Gross Vintage btw). The large frames have the added benefit of giving me pretty comprehensive vision - there are no 'herebedragons' regions where the lenses stop and my crap eyes take over, if you see what I mean - but that's a minor point, my choice in this regard is purely for purposes of vanity and if I pretended otherwise I'd be lying. My current specs are pretty large is has to be said - but it also has to be said they are very 'individual'. Which is a good thing, innit???

Bollox - you should SEE people's reaction. Most times I venture outside in specs rather than contact lenses it is about 5 minutes before somebody spots me, does a double take and then either tries to smother a grin, nudges whoever they are with or in the most shameless cases, just stares openly at me. Once I had three generations of the same family sitting at a nearby table who were quite blatantly in absolute hysterics (I gave the grandmother a piece of my mind for not bringing up the rest of them properly as it happens, but that's another issue). Most of the time I have to endure people's attempts at being subtle (which are very far from being so) - they tend to be treated to one of my 'looks' and usually have the grace to look shamefaced.

So, folks, I am faced with a dilemma - do I do what I'm happy with, knowing that despite their large size my glasses do actually suit me? Or do I bow to the pressure to conform, buy little frames and walk around feeling hideous, expecting mental nurses to leap out and attempt to incarcerate me at every corner? Or, do I whenever possible attempt to make people think about their reactions and challenge them with their own silly prejudices? Actually, most of the time I can't be arsed and just put my contact lenses in to go outside Chateau Angevin - who's a moral coward now??

The second example I have for you centres around Mini-me and his education. This is an enormous topic which doubtless will crop up from time to time on these pages, but today I'm going to concentrate on one very small area. 'Joining in' - or lack of it in Mini's case. During the two days a week he attends school (I teach him at home the rest of the time) he does not, apparently 'join in'. I have tried to tactfully suggest this is perhaps because he finds what the other kids are doing rather dull (he is, for example on Oxford Reading Tree Level 5-6 when the other kids are still on Level 2-3) but this has been rejected by his class teacher. (He will, apparently, do the paintings and craft stuff the others do after they've finished - ie. in his own time). When I've asked him why he won't join in with the others he says 'It's too noisy, Mum' - again a claim which is rejected by his class teacher. As far as I can establish, he just likes doing his work by himself and getting on with it - he isn't really into teamwork.

However, today I was told he isn't joining in in the playground either. I questioned this as whenever I've taken him to playgrounds or he's been in social situations with his peers he has NO TROUBLE at all playing with other children. Quite the opposite in fact - 'party animal' has been used to describe him before. When questioned further, it appears he wouldn't 'join in' with a game organised by one of the teachers- he was quite happy to run around playing tag and leaping all over the play equipment when it was 'free play'. I didn't say anything much at the time, but I've been mulling it over for the last few hours and I'm now actually quite irritated by all this.

Now, I admit, here I am torn - naturally for my own selfish reasons I'd love to have glowing reports from school saying what a delight he is to teach, etc etc; but I absolutely do not want to force him into behaviour which makes him deeply unhappy simply to achieve that. And the bottom line is he WOULD be a very miserable little boy if he was made to sit with the other children and do everything they did at the same time they did. Mini has a very clear distinction in his head between 'work', which he does on his own, and 'play' which he does with as many people as he can. I COULD try to explain to his teacher that 'organised games' even though they ARE still 'games' to us adults sit firmly in the 'work' portion of Mini's view of the world; but somehow I don't think she'd pay much attention. Because here Mini, in a far more serious area, is hitting the brick wall I do when I go out wearing my specs - he isn't conforming, and he is therefore deeply suspect.

I know where all this is heading - once again in the near future I'm going to have to defend him against having the 'Autism' label smacked on him for the convenience of the educational establishment. Mini is NOT autistic - he's 'different' and he may indeed have some syndrome or another, but autism it ain't. He isn't educationally under par either - I've already mentioned his reading ability, but this is also a child who is teaching himself French via Muzzy on TV and a few software programmes on his PC, as I discovered today when I said something in French to him accidentally and he replied beautifully, with a perfect accent, without missing a beat. I teach him at home and don't really have a problem dinning things into him, mostly because I don't have any prejudices about how he 'should' learn or 'should' react. Unfortunately for him, and this is a cross his dear old Mum's had to bear too, he is DIFFERENT. And in today's world, particularly today's educational world, that is bad, subversive, and a bad reflection on his parents.

I don't know what the answer is to all this, I only know that I have to do the best I can for my child (which is partly why I'm teaching him myself part-time - had I bowed to pressure in the past he'd probably be in a special school and dosed up the eyeballs on Ritalin by now). He is only five years old for goodness sake, why SHOULD he be made to feel awkward, or worse, for merely expressing his own preferences? When he is a bit older, and a bit more mature, it will be possible to explain to him that perhaps for the sake of a quiet life it's a good idea to conform a bit more, and he probably will because he likes to be liked. And despite his apparent 'problems' and apparent inability to 'join in' I am continually told about, he is one of the most popular people in his year - explain that one to me, if you can? It seems his peers have the same ability to value and cherish an individual little person I do, which his teachers and 'educational professionals' sadly lack. Whatever the outcome, I would rather have a happy little boy, triumphantly grubby after his experiments with mud - which he didn't want Mummy to help with- went the way he wanted them to; than a straightjacketed little robot bored out of his mind parrotting out whatever is on the National Curriculum for that given week.

In conclusion, society does NOT cherish individuality. It's deeply suspicious of it and anybody who dares to be different, or can't help being so, walks perhaps the most difficult path of all.

The Simple Things

Just to prove I don't always come on here to rant...

... it's been a surprisingly mellow weekend and not even I could find anything to whinge about.

Mini-me's school had its annual Party in the Park yesterday which was a fun evening meeting with other stressed parents and de-stressing courtesy of an awful lot of assorted sparkling beverages and the varied contents of our combined picnic hampers. Mini ran around doing his own thing, terrorising little girls and attracting the usual posse of older girls who for some reason think he is 'fab' (Mini's future career as a gigolo is looking increasingly like a cert). After he'd cadged the dosh for one of those ghastly glowing sabre-thingos out of me he and the other blue-flavoured offspring had great fun acting out best scenes from Bridge at Remagen (the current WW2 film of choice). 'We're moving in' echoed around the park in the intervals between the acts on stage. One can only hope the Headmaster's garden survived....

After a pretty impressive fireworks' display a very tired Mini summed it up: "That was the best party ever, Mum". So everybody is happy, for once.

The fallout from doing the cooking for the picnic hampers occupied much of Sunday - thank GOD for dishwashers, I LOVE the person who invented them, whoever he or she was. It wasn't all fun though - the plants I bought at the garden centre last week and hadn't had the time to put in were wilting so, much as I'd liked to have sat out just reading and knocking back more cold fizzy stuff, my conscience couldn't take the pressure. Gloved up and dosed up with Piriton I dug the necessary holes (carefully avoiding the cat-poo where possible) and, as is always the way, got suckered in to doing a few other jobs out there too - deadheading, general faff. But a very very good antidote to some of the stuff one has to endure every time one leaves the house or puts the TV on - and a good reminder that it's the simple things which make us all happy at the end of the day.

Old People

Now, I was brought up by old people. Namely my grandparents and various great-aunts, great-uncles and assorted other relatives who turned up whilst my mother and father were off keeping the financial ship afloat. My memories of their rearing largely centre around the massive meals we always seemed to be having, and endless exhortations to 'be polite' (the usual 'please', 'thank you', 'excuse me' etc etc etc plus some rather more refined add-ons courtesy of my grandmother - the 'gently-born' one). It seemed at the time there wasn't a minute went by when I wasn't being harangued about something; but it had a point because at the end of the process I like to think the oldies turned out a socially-acceptable human being. (Well, I can hope, I suppose!).

Rapidly approaching middle-age, and exhorting my own offspring on an hourly basis about something or other, I am beginning to wonder 'What happened?' . Naively, perhaps, I fondly imagined that adults, continually telling me to 'be polite' actually practised what they preached. Was I wrong? Did today's OAPs miss out on the social indoctrination I endured? Or have they just given up? Because after enduring both Londis and Waitrose today I can assure you, Reader, there was precious little courtesy evident - and I regret to say the biggest offenders were OLD PEOPLE.

Take one example this morning. Standing in front of the chiller shelves and attempting to track down something I wanted after YET ANOTHER re-organisation chez Londis, I had a wire basket applied to my back, none too gently, whilst what closely resembled a nylon-clad manatee shoved its way past. Normally, I would shrug and ignore it, but today I was Not In The Mood, so I loudly regaled the chiller shelf with "It normally helps if you say 'excuse me'". Surprisingly the manatee, looking slightly moist in its Stalinist grey mac and three sweaters (it was a sunny morning), turned round and rather aggressively spluttered "What?". Ignoring the opportunity to point out it really should have said 'Pardon, were you speaking to me?' or something of the sort, I launched into:

Me: "I said it would help if you said excuse me if you want to get past"
Manatee: "You were in the way"
Me: "So why not say 'excuse me'?"
Manatee: "You weren't looking"
Me: "I don't use my eyes to hear - you should have said 'excuse me'"
Manatee: "You were in the way"

By this time I was getting more than a little irritated. People were also starting to 'look' - which in a village this size means news of an altercation in Londis is going to have reached the total populace in about 30 seconds. And that's on a bad day.

Me: "So you say 'excuse me', I move - and everybody is happy"
Manatee: "You weren't looking".
Me: "You have already said that. The bottom line is, you should have said excuse me rather than shove me in the back with your basket and push your way past. It was rude".
Manatee: "You should have got out of my way".
Me: "As you so eloquently pointed out, I wasn't looking. If you'd opened your mouth and been at least polite, I would have happily moved out of your way. There was no need to shove me with your basket, just a bit of politeness would have worked".
Manatee: "You should be ashamed of yourself, young people today have no manners"

At this point, even I was (almost) rendered speechless. However, I mustered one last shred of dignity and for the benefit of the assembled throng came out with

Me: "Look, I am trying to bring up my son to be polite. To say 'please' and 'thank you' and - yes, even 'excuse me'. I stand no chance whatsoever if people like you think you have the right to shove your way around without even basic courtesy. What example is it setting to children if old people like you push your way through without any attempt at politeness? [I was getting into my stride now] It's not people standing in front of counters who are making the country a horrible place to live but people like you who behave like animals".

I think this was a bit too much even for the Manatee. It launched into a torrent of invective which I shan't repeat in case kiddies are watching. Suffice it to say I'd had enough of the Steradent and TCP fumes coming off it and with a "I think you've said quite enough now, thank you", walked off to pay. Now I'm just hoping this wasn't grandmamma of one of the two ruling village Families, because if she was, this blog is going to be the shortest in history owing to my house being burned down tonight.

Having downed several pints of tea back at home I realised I'd actually run out of quite a lot of things and needed to go to Waitrose. As this is a 30 mile round trip it's not something you do without thought, but I couldn't get out of it. Anyway, still thinking about my encounter with Manatee, I noticed whilst pushing the trolley around just how impolite people actually are. And again.... it was the oldies who were the biggest offenders and totally without shame about it too.

When I was a child if I dared to say 'but that was rude' about one perceived injustice or another I was always hushed up with 'Remember these people fought the War for you'. Which, like every other British kid, having been indoctrinated by numerous viewings of every WW2 movie the BBC/ITV could lay their corporate mitts on, I could accept; and in fact I viewed The Old with something approaching awe - had these people really been zooming around in tanks and lobbing hand grenades into all the empty farmhouses they could find??

Unfortunately for The Old these days - YOU DO NOT HAVE THIS EXCUSE. Most of you were only capable of lobbing Teddy out of the pram when the Blitz was on, so don't try and pull that one, please. You don't have any excuses for your shoving, queue-jumping or general air of You Owe Me Something because I don't - especially not if you can't preface a request with 'please', say 'thank you' if I hold a door open for you or get out of your way, or even just smile if I smile at you (which I do try to do from time to time, as I'm a bit fed up with seeing so many glum faces around).

So, if any of you out there are reading this, just try it - just Be Polite, even if it's only for a day. We might find this country is a better place if enough of us remember the smacked hands we all got for our childhood offences and did something to put it right. You can't expect politeness if you don't dish it out yourselves.

Rant Central

Today has been the sort of day where you either end up in casualty after the blood pressure's finally succumbed to the pressure of dealing with the level of idiocy around you; or the sort of day where you spend half an hour fitting your rant into the required number of characters on the BBC 'Have Your Say' site... only to find some clueless muppet employed by the BBC (Graduate, First Class, University of Ignorance) has seen fit to ignore your offering in favour of illiterate twaddle penned by a 13-year-0ld with a naff line in cyber-names.

So... I'm taking ranting to a new height and dragging Chateau Angevin spleen out of the Stone Age. My very own blog. Awwwww.

Probably nobody will read it, but who cares? At least it will keep me out of the clutches of the United Nations Peacekeeping Force who appear to be running our local A&E.....