Today in my primary music classes we talked about music as a force for peace. In broad, simplified strokes we talked about The Singing Revolution in Estonia and the Prayer of the Mothers associated with the Women Wage Peace movement in the Middle East. We talked about how war is sometimes a function of greed, where one country wants what another country has. And I saw before me a sea of confused and inquisitive faces, posing the most innocent, most poignant questions:
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Here’s a little gem from the archives: 2010 to be exact, when I was supply teaching in Peterborough and getting to know my neighbours on Charlotte Street. Happy Hallowe’en!
Today I scored huge points with my skinhead neighbour’s children.
Every year at the end of October I start to think about how I’m going to evade Hallowe’en. I hate the skeletons, gravestones, witches and, yes, even the spiders. I don’t get why the entire continent gets such a charge out of thinking about icky, dark, evil things for a month every fall. Fall is icky enough without the ghosts and the orange and black. Why make it colder, scarier, crueller?
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