Jarrow March

This photo was taken 4 years ago to the day. A day in October. A day early in my grief journey. A moment in our family history.

Time to turn back the hands of the clock back to before the Second World War. To another moment in our family history.

October 19th, 1936. Chesterfield to Mansfield.

From the 5th to 31st, the Jarrow March took place. 200 men walked 300 miles from the north eastern town of Jarrow to London. Jarrow was like many northern towns in that period. Bleak, stagnant and forgotten. The impact of a world wide depression was hitting this area hard. There was no employment. Unemployment was endemic. In Jarrow the unemployment rate was near 70%. The Government seemingly did not care, blind to the suffering. The Government even blocked loans that would have saved the town’s industries. Rising anger at gross inequality and injustice. The growth of racism and extreme right wing politics.

That was the context as 200 men set off on their crusade. A peaceful and dignified protest, carrying a 12000 signature petition asking for their industry to be reopened. A simple message. We want to work. We want hope.

The marchers were treated as heroes on the route. Galvanised a growing mood in the country. The petition was handed into the government with so much dignity and respect. In the short term the March failed. The Baldwin Conservative Government brushed the march and the petition aside. Clearly in their eyes some people were more equal than others. But in the long run the Jarrow March delivered. It set a new agenda. After the war the new Labour Government set about writing the wrongs. A comprehensive welfare state was introduced. Government with a conscious was established. One that cared for the less fortunate. Sadly a conscious which has started to be unpicked and now unravelled.

We live in a time of rising unemployment. Inequality and injustice are ripe. The growth of extreme politics. Sound familiar. We could learn so much from the Jarrow March. A Crusade marked down in English history. A family history as well. My family was on that march.

It’s school but not as we know it.

Most definitely Autumn. Most definitely the last week before the half term school week. It’s an odd time. Our son is trying to do classroom schooling but at home. The school is trying to deliver education with a number of pupils and teachers isolating. The government is trying to make an wreck everything – and sadly succeeding. It’s all a bit of a mess. So amongst this mess we are living in our own little bubble. So within that little bubble what have I learned as the at home teacher and school administrator over the last few weeks.

  • Apparently some lessons and certain subjects are best studied in bed….
  • When a teacher commits to giving more feedback apparently replying ‘I have received your work’ counts as a step forward,
  • It’s perfectly acceptable to be a home teacher wearing shorts and an Alice Cooper T-shirt,
  • Citizenship should be renamed Drink Awareness,
  • Computing should be renamed Cartoon Sketching,
  • Biology should be renamed Let’s Scare Kids About Diseases,
  • French should be renamed We Have Worked Really Hard to Make this Subject So Very Boring,
  • Apparently the answer ‘NO’ is not the right reply to the question ‘Dad have we got any watercolour paints?’
  • Why was algebra so pigging difficult when I was at school (and impossible during my exams) yet I am now a wizard at it,
  • Playing Minecraft is a key method of learning within many subjects,
  • 6 weeks of examining the Memphis Style Design for furniture is rather boring for a teenage boy and mind numbingly tedious to dad. Maybe a one hour shopping trip to IKEA would be more beneficial,
  • I am not much use when helping someone to label a plant cell diagram. Mitochondrion is apparently a real word and not a race of people in Star Trek,
  • Watching a video about nineteenth century British politics is a cure for my insomnia,
  • Trying to explain how to write a planets mass in standard notation is impossible without me swearing at least once,
  • Food Technology seems to not involve actually cooking anything,
  • It’s good to see Geography has moved on since my day. I think our school had only one map. So we basically spent 3 years just studying the Northern Pennines, no where else. Hawklad has been looking at China this week. That would be a big map in my old school.
  • Not sure the Games Teacher is aware of the logistical issues involved in a request to do some sprints in the garden. Mole and Dog holes have to repaired. Then dog toys, balls, garden furniture and fallen apples have to be removed. Then finally the delightful job of picking up the dog poo. Then it rains….. All to do 5 minutes sprints,
  • We had a quick school uniform test – not one single item fits anymore. If and when he does go back it’s going to be expensive,
  • Since March I’ve not had to mend one trouser knee hole – that’s a result.

We are definitely ready for a week off schooling at home. Definitely needs to be replaced with a week of Have Fun At Home.

Wet

It’s the perfect day to try to hand wash. Even better for drying said washing.

Under that bench cover is the washing. Marvellous…..

The washing is even too wet for the radiators and getting wetter.

I wonder if you can microwave washing?

Could I cook the washing at 200C?

Maybe if I run about really fast with it over my head it might dry?

Maybe I could hop on a plane and dry it in a warmer climate.

Or I could just say pants to it, leave it out in the rain. Shrug my shoulders and go eat some chocolate. Yes that sounds like a plan.

3am

Last night I was tired. Unusually tired for me. But it was one of those pesky tired setups. During the evening I could feel myself nodding off. Plenty of those ‘just starting to drift off while sat on the settee – then suddenly woken by those cataclysmic sudden neck snapping forward’ moments. This went on all evening until it was bed time. But then I just wasn’t tired. Pigging fiddlesticks……

Finally sleep came but all too soon…..

DAD, DAAAAAADDDD!

What’s up son.

Dad I’ve forgotten, sorry we’ve forgotten the art assignment.”

Ooh yeh, that one that isn’t due in until the 12th.

That’s the one, But ITS THE 12th.”

Oh big pants. Can you do it as soon as you get up?

No it’s due at the start of the first lesson.”

***********

I could see by the look in his eyes that until it was done, sleep would be impossible. So a few minutes later I was in the kitchen making hot drinks. Years ago a late night session would have had a very different meaning to tonight’s version. 3am and rocking out to Japanese Art.

Basically I sat there looking vacant, occasionally nodding (in a of course I knew that kinda way) and asking Google such questions as ‘what on earth does wabi and sabi mean’. It took an hour before Hawklad had convinced himself that he had done enough. The school panic in his world was over. His completed presentation was significantly more robust than his Dads initial suggestive assignment text

Japanese Art is cool but Godzilla is real cool. Now it’s time for bed….

Hawklad got to bed and immediately fell asleep. I guess at about 4.30am I found some sleep. I woke up a couple of hours later with one overriding thought. How can you write two pages on Japanese Art and not mention Godzilla‘s Atomic Breath just once. What has become of Art.

See what the wind brings.

Sometimes you just have to sit back and see what the wind brings.

Drying clothes outside is proving a bit of a nightmare. Every few minutes the wind brings in another shower. Thankfully the bench cover is just about big enough to quickly chuck over the clothes horse. Given the dirty state of the cover rather defeats the purpose of washing. But needs must.

Sometimes you just have to sit back and see what the wind brings.

Further lockdown measures are set to be announced for northern areas next week. For the last month our part of the north has been an island. Surrounded by areas having significant pandemic outbreaks. Here it’s been reasonably calm. That means that things like shopping and daily life have continued without too much disruption. But is that about to change. Has our area succumbed.

Sons school has had confirmed cases. The local cafe had had to close due to a local outbreak. All public events are being cancelled (that includes Christmas events). Now the local city is reporting a huge growth in cases. 79% rise in 7 days, our rural area has gone up by 60%. Higher than some of the areas already under lockdown. Police are starting to enforce lockdown laws.

It’s the confusion that makes it so much harder for people. One week the PM tells people to grow a backbone and get out. Then suddenly the PM tells us it’s our fault fir getting out. Some places (often government supporting areas) have high infection rates but are excluded from lockdown while other areas with lower rates are forced into lockdown.

Feels like we as an area are about to be forced into a tough, restrictive extended period. All we can do is continue with our own family approach. Try to shield son from as much of the negative, doom loaded news. It’s the last thing he needs to hear. Much better for his (and my well-being) to sit in the back garden and see what the weather brings in.

Which way

In life you get asked so many questions. But some questions keep repeating themselves. Like the classics ‘Are we there yet?’ and ‘where’s the remote control?’.

Then there are other questions. More vexing questions. One question keeps popping up. I’ve been asked this by family members, other parents, teachers and even once a nurse. It does have a number of variants but it’s basically the same question

Will your son get better?

Will his Aspergers improve?

Will his Aspergers improve as he gets older?

I’m no clinical specialist. Just a bumbling parent. But here’s my take on the question.

Aspergers is a lifelong syndrome. It’s not going to get better. Its not going to be cured. It’s not going to disappear. What might change is that over time the individual and the family may develop strategies to help deal better with some of the situations life will throw at them. Also some of the specific symptoms may fluctuate over time. For example in a number of individuals something like repetitive hand flapping may become less prevalent with age. Also Aspergers often coexists with a number of other conditions – dyspraxia, ADHD, dyslexia…. It is possible that some of these conditions could improve with time. For example our son has with hard work started to overcome some of the issues which his dyspraxia and dyslexia had caused him in his earlier years.

So yes it is possible that improvements may occur. But here’s the thing, it’s not guaranteed. Each individual case is different, unique. Things may stay the same with age. They can also get worse with age.

So we just don’t know.

The Clinical Psychologist who did the full review of our Son was quite clear. The majority of his Aspergers related traits will stay with him over his life. However at around the teenage period changes may start to occur. It could go either way. He could become fully independent or he may regress and may need some form of life long support. She talked through a number of possible scenarios. One scenario was that some improvements would occur potentially in the areas of dyslexia and the diminishing of some of the repetitive behaviours. Another scenario painted a downturn in his existing anxieties and fears. This could occur naturally during his teenage years or could be triggered by a single significant event which effects his view of the world. Tips the balance in his risk assessments of the world. This could lead to significant mental health concerns and potentially social isolation. Where we are sat currently, we are not a million miles away from that scenario. The triggers – the death of his mum, a pandemic, his teenage years…. He is currently physically cut adrift from the world. His fears and anxieties ramped up to the rafters.

Nothing is set in stone. We just have to go with the flow and see what life brings. It could be still be a fully independent life. But it could also entail a lifelong requirement for support. In this country we don’t cater for the latter scenario. Support has to be fought and won for young children. That support is at best is patchy. During the teenage years the support tends to be reduced due to funding cut backs. By early adulthood the support has completely vanished. That’s a sobering thought for parents in this position. It really is.

Vexing

Time passes. It keeps on passing. A wander round this small graveyard provides proof of this. Many of the once proud gravestones are now weathered beyond recognition. Time passes.

Five years ago I had just driven to the crematorium to pick up my partners ashes. They joined my mothers ashes on the sideboard. At that stage a real urge to get on with laying my those two precious spirits to the earth. Definite external pressure for this. I remember listening to one so called expert talk about it being unhealthy for society for people to linger on those who had left us. Maybe that’s the hidden message there – it might be ok for the person grieving but it’s uncomfortable for everyone else. Anyway it seemed like the right thing to do. The only thing to do.

Within weeks I had scattered mum on her family grave. I remember it so well and I have already wrote about a bizarre memory from that experience. I was alone in the graveyard. As I started to clear some earth away, to my side I noticed a little squirrel. A squirrel apparently doing the same thing on a neighbouring grave. Was it a case of burying nuts or was it a burial. It made me smile, two souls getting on with important stuff, maybe the same stuff, almost happy to have company there. Mum would have loved that sight.

Now time to get a move on laying my partner to the ground. Partly in England and partly in Switzerland. A bit of a logistical nightmare. I secured the paperwork to allow for the transport of ashes overseas. Ready to begin.

Five years later…..still waiting to begin.

Now I worry. Have I left it too late. Have I missed the window of opportunity to follow my partners wishes. Being a single parent and with son’s Aspergers, European travel is a nightmare – feeling like it gets more problematic every year. No similar excuse for the English sites. But it just didn’t feel right. Should I really put our son through more grief when he was still so young. No right or wrong answer here. We all need to do what’s best for our close ones and ourselves here. Unfortunately just like most things, just like European travel for us, it seems to get more daunting the longer it goes on.

Have I missed the best time to do it?

That feeling is making feel very anxious at present. Will we ever get round to doing what we have to do? Was life really supposed to be this vexing…..

Help

Sometimes you need help. Help with routine stuff. Something like Broadband. So Saturday brought a broken service. Our broadband doesn’t like rain. Certainly doesn’t like 14 hours of solid rain.

No service, no internet on an afternoon is not going to cut the mustard with a teenager. So it’s time to make the dreaded call to the BT helpline. One hour later I finally speak to a human who then decides to play me some more annoying music. Another hour later I’m handed to a service engineer. Having explained the situation in some detail to the expert he agreed to look at his system. After 20 minutes of much tutting the expert told me that the service was ‘not optimal‘. When I told him it was in fact ‘not working’ I never did get to hear his response. Rather an automated voice kicked in to inform me that the department was now closed and would reopen again at 8am on Monday. Dont you just love service…..

So we have resorted to my very patchy mobile signal as our broadband option. It kinda reminds me of what it was like a few years back with dialup internet. How did we survive.

Angry armour

Chestnuts are ready. Shame about the angry armour they leave behind.

Maybe I could do with some angry armour. It’s actually very possible given the advertising I’ve been receiving recently on my iPad. If I say angry armour enough then surely the Skynet computer system will flag up angry armour and then it’s adverts about sale offers on the latest Hulk Busting Ironman suit.

In this modern every situation is a selling opportunity world I understand the need for targeted advertising. But really can it be a little more, what’s the words I’m looking for – pigging accurate.

If I was targeting me then I would send adverts about decaf coffee, sleep inducers, heavy metal cds, gym kit, parenting guides, Pet Hair removers, Newcastle United footy shirts and muppet memorabilia. Guess what!!! Over the last month not one single advert received on any of these things. So exactly what have I been targeted with….

  • Adverts for international holidays to every country except the only one I write about every Sunday.
  • Stairlifts – we live in a bungalow.
  • Hunting clothing – I’m a veggie.
  • Swimming costumes – I can’t swim.
  • Gas Fires – the nearest gas main is 15 miles away, we can only use electricity and home heating oil.
  • Ornamental elephants – why?
  • Online casinos – never once done any like that but I have watched Casino Royal.
  • Prefabricated office space – why?
  • A home delivery service which is not available in our area, in fact the nearest location the service covers is 150 miles south of here.
  • Garlic oil – garlic sets my IBS off.
  • Sports Bras – we are a male only household, what is the point – just a minute, actually…….
  • Snooker tables – not played in 30 years.
  • Wine offers – I’ve been tea total in over 6 years.
  • Farm machinery – bit overkill for our little garden lawn.
  • Ornamental Storks – why?
  • Prams and baby walkers – no chance of babies here.
  • Makeup – Looking at me in the mirror I need cement.
  • And wait for it – a weeks advanced cooking course………

Is it me or am I just missing the point. They must have a very odd view ot me. Maybe tomorrow I get the chance of my angry armour.

Insignificant

It’s a big sky. Its easy to feel very small and insignificant stood under it.

There are so many times when parenting is the best gig on the planet. Then there are other times…

I was trying to convince our son that he had washed his hands enough. He had been at the soap and water for nearly five minutes. Everything I said didn’t seem to have any impact. Finally he decided that was enough. He asked if the towel was clean and had it been washed that day. I assured him that was the case. He left the bathroom and I looked at his hands. His very red and sore skin. That’s what happens when you wash as often as he does. We are using skin friendly soap. I water it down further. But his hands are still red. I encourage him to use his skin care lotion. But his hands are still sore.

These are the times I feel inadequate as a parent. Missing the support of another person. Someone to share the load. Definitely running out of things to try. Actually ran out of things to try. His health professionals try to help but they see this intrinsically linked to the pandemic. Get the pandemic under control and we can start to bring his hand washing under control – hopefully. But that doesn’t make me feel any better as a parent. Feels like I had one job and I dropped the ball on it.

So I’m stood under that big sky. Feeling insignificant. Time to breathe. Reset and go again. Yes significant but definitely not beaten yet.