The (un)taped confessions of...

I’d been asked to interview someone today. This was ‘serious stuff.’ Although I’ve interviewed people with a view to get a quote or two to liven up a feature, this was going to form the basis of a 1500 word article. So I prepared. Constructed a list of probing questions that Andrew Marr himself would’ve been proud of. I’d borrowed a tape-recorder and performed a dry-run, eager to ensure that nothing would be missed and I would construct an article nothing short of Pulitzer prize winning.

Now, the questions I had asked people before have always been with a view to how quickly I could scratch down the answers. So short and sharp would be one way of describing my interview technique. But with the help of the tape recorder I was in full flow. I diverged from the questions on my sheet, thinking up new and insightful questions as the interview progressed.

‘This is great,’ I thought to myself as my interviewee proceeded to rattle off some very complicated statistics, and I realised just how quickly the old me would have to write in order to get this stuff down.

Then I looked at the tape recorder. The reels weren’t going around.

I’ve never been to the Artic, but I’m sure that the shiver that passed straight through me couldn’t have been colder.

I searched frantically for the nearest available pen. The nearest available pen belonged to my daughter; glitter barreled and topped with a tuft of feather boa, it was, of course, full of purple ink.

I began to scribble furiously along the eighth inch of blank paper at the edge of the A4 sheet of beautifully prepared questions. Did I wish that I could turn back time and tell that 17 year old bunking off those shorthand lessons that she really should go? You betcha.

The interview continued with me firing questions rapier-like at the poor man who must have wondered why I had changed so suddenly from the previously relaxed and friendly tone to Humphreys-on- speed. My notes continued on the back of a kit-kat wrapper, bus ticket and a postcard from the vet asking me if I’d wormed the dog recently.

Inspiration struck me at the end. ‘Can I email you if I’ve missed anything.’ I said. Just like that. Cool as a cucumber. Or perhaps an Artic cucumber – you’ve heard of them haven’t you? Ming’s favourite pop group?

It appears that the tape recorder ran out of batteries. That makes two of us then.

So what to do about those missing five minutes. Well, I considered regression therapy, but decided, in the end to see what old Google-eyes could come up with. Hopefully, I might just hack it.

So what have I learned?

1. It really isn’t the end of the world

I’m a mature student. That means I am learning – just like all the other people on my course. That means that if things go wrong it’s OK. I’m allowed to.

2. Always have auxillary back up

It is true that the only blackberry I use is the stuff I put into a crumble, so it is ironic that one of the few times I trust technology it lets me down. So I will always have pen and paper with me. And another pen, just in case.

Technorati tag: mature studentinterviewingwriting for the media

It's a modular life

Andrew Lipson


So what is a modular degree then? Well, in case anyone is as confused as I was this time last year, and have turned to the blogosphere for help, (apparently there are only two of us mature student bloggers and I feel the responsibility), I'll let you know how I understand it.

Imagine a wall made out of Lego bricks. The wall is six bricks high and three bricks wide. The three bricks along the bottom represent years of study. Each of the six vertical bricks represent modules you need to study to get a named, i.e. Writing for the Media, honours degree.

The bricks are not the same though. The first set of six are bronze, (or certificate level). The second are silver, (or intermediate level) and the third are gold, (or honours level). Each brick equals 20 credits, so an honours degree is equal to 360 credits.

In the first year you have no say over the set of bricks in your wall; all modules are chosen for you. However, in the second year you can choose three of your silver bricks and in the third year you can choose four of your shiny, gold bricks. Still with me?

After finishing each of your bricks in the second and third year, you'll be given a mark. If this is lower than 39 you will have to remove your brick and resit the module. If you are given 40-49 your block is a third, 50 -59 your block is a 2:2, 60 -69 you've got a 2:1 and 70 - 100 its a 1, (and well done you).

At the end of three years the examiners count up how many 3, 2:2, 2:1 and 1's you've achieved and you are awarded that 'quality' of degree.

This is for full time study. You can take up to six years to complete your degree taking three modules per year. More Hadrian than Alcatraz.

Technorati tag: mature studentmodular degreescollege life

Glad I've seen John Hegley

Went to see John Hegley recently. For anyone who has ever had to 'analyse' poetry as part of coursework or exams, John Hegley's work is a welcome relief. His irreverant use of metre and rhyme combined with subjects including farting dogs, Luton and vomiting Grandmothers produces poetry that is mostly hilarious. And occasionally touching.

And did I have to travel miles to see him? No, due to the wonderful Villages in Action initiative it was a 15 minute drive to hear such brilliance as:


A Comparison Between Logs and Dogs

Both are very popular at Christmas,
But it is not generally considered cruel to abandon a log,
And dogs are rarely used as fuel.

John Hegley

Technorati tag: mature studentpoetryjohn hegleyvillages in action

Educating Heather

Richard Bailey's blog tipped me off about this article in The Daily Telegraph. In it, Lynne Truss writes about an increasing number of students entering Higher Education who, although they have A *s on their A level certificates, do not possess basic writing skills.

I've written about this before from the dual points of view of mature student and mum to secondary school age children, and I agree with the thrust of Ms Truss' argument that teachers and lecturers need to consistently correct pieces of writing. It is the only way to ensure that students understand that spelling, grammar and structure really matter:

'It is patronising not to correct someone who is supposed to be learning; in fact, it is quite a good idea occasionally to force people to confront the scale of their own ignorance.' Lynne Truss

As a mature student I've been confronted by my ignorance too many times. Yeah, I thought I was good, but the horror of being told that a piece of writing contained 40 spelling and grammatical errors and only finding 20 soon fixed that. Then there was the grim realisation that I had spelt harassment as harrassment throughout an exam piece. And no, until February, I didn't really understand what a ; was for.

Seeing that red ink is hard. There is no doubt it hurts. But that is precisely the time to 'unleash the Rita:'


You won't hurt me feelings.

If I do something that's crap,
I don't want pity,

I want you to say, "That's crap. "

Here.


It's crap.

So we dump it on the fire
and we start again.

Educating Rita - Willy Russell

Technorati tag: mature studentwritinggrammareducating rita

When what not to wear gets a little wearing

You've got a place on the course, a loan, and a rather natty pencil case, so you're all set to go - right? Well, no. Because there is another thing to consider. Something that causes your wardrobe to empty and a pile of clothes to materialise on your bedroom floor that soon rivals the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

What does the 'average' mature student wear to her first day at 'big school?'

I know, I know. Whether a hoody is 'de rigeur' is a facile question compared to all those intellectual debates on post-modernism you are about to take part in, but those first impressions count.

Before you go any further, I'm talking mature, mature student here. Those that think the puff-ball skirt was invented this year are excused this particular rambling.

Being the wrong side of 30 is beige enough without wearing the matching bri-nylon twin set. Things were easy at work - basic black suit, white shirt and courts - but can you really wear that now without being mistaken for a student's over-anxious mother on the Freshers' campus tour or, horror of horrors, a lecturer? (Believe it or not, some of them don't wear jackets with leather patches - shocking isn't it?).

Of course you think that you can play safe and wear jeans and a T shirt. But you remember the stereotype. Does your casual attire signal to the lecturer that you are just another desperate housewife, passing time between trips to the supermarket, coffee mornings and walking the dog? Any way, just when you reach the age when you begin to find yourself fading into the background, do you really want to make your disappearance complete? No - you still want to be noticed during those question and answer sessions. But you know you really can't get away with those bare midriff numbers. Unlike those eighteen year olds in your class, childbirth and time have ensured that you have a stomach to match those 'slouch' trousers.

No, you decide, that Holy Grail of the middle-aged that ensures you look 'Smart But Trendy' seems to be the answer. Again. And just because you've got that piece of paper from UCAS in your new Quicksilver rucksack doesn't mean you're any closer to finding it.

So, one year on and what have I learned about what not to wear to college? Well, I've discovered that the majority of the younger students aren't the ripped trouser, many-pierced, multi-hair-coloured specimens I was expecting. Mostly it is just, well, jeans and T shirts. Except for those studying Sports Science whose year- round attire of shorts and flip-flops seems compulsory, with the variation of brown legs in Summer, blue in Winter.

So if you're waiting for Registration next week, good luck. And if you're signing up to three years at Marjon, be sure to come up and say hi. I'll be the one wearing the plus fours and diving helmet...

Technorati tag: mature studentwhat not to wear

A BA keeps the doctor away

Derriford Hospital, Plymouth

I listened to John Humphrys patronising, I mean interviewing, William Cooper, Britain's oldest graduate, on the Today programme last week. The interview included some not-too-clever questions that ensured that Mr Cooper fitted neatly into the stereotype of the mature learner; a kind of Victor Meldrew with a mortar board.


Enjoy a good argument do you, (Ho, ho)
Had some problems with your eyesight? (Ha, ha)

Interestingly, he asked the recent graduate what he planned to do with his degree. William Cooper is 89 years old Mr Humphrys, I think we could all guess the answer to that probing question. Anyway, I wonder how many younger graduates could say with truth what they intended to do with their bit of paper - and at least Mr Cooper has paid for his time in education. Degrees aren't a direct route to a 'high-flying' job The number of graduates sitting at checkouts or filing paper is testament to that. No, degrees have more value than that. They (should) affect more than a job title on a business card. card.

It was only in the dying seconds of the interview that the 63 year old John Humphrys touched on the more interesting angle the interview could have taken. Perhaps this kind of true life-long learning should be encouraged more?

Later I visited the local Chemists. The shop is one of a dying breed with shelves full of Blue Stratos aftershave, Yardley talcum powder and Vosene medicated shampoo. The pharmacist is a well-known local man with a loyal clientele who tend to be older than the people who use the big-name chemist in town. I watched as customer after customer, with more than a 'sprinkling of snow on the roof', struggled out of the shop clutching huge bags full of medications. 'I need a wheelbarrow with this lot,' laughed one man. And I thought of the spritely Mr Cooper.

The body-mind health link is well documented. Depression caused by loneliness and isolation can cause all sorts of physical ills. If we encouraged more older people to continue with their education instead of assuming they will be content to doze in a chair all day I wonder how many pills and potions could be avoided? Could it be that if degrees were put on prescription we could cut a lot of illness? Personally, I'd love to have William Cooper and his arguments in my lectures

And if you think I have a vested interest in this issue, you're right, I have. So have you Mr Humphrys. As my mother used to say: 'Don't laugh - you'll be old one day.'

Technorati tag: mature student

Climb every mountain

My son came home with details of a school trip yesterday. Norway. July 2007. Trekking, rock-climbing and canoeing. £1400.

What ever happened to trips to the Imperial War Museum? Or the zoo?

If you've got children what happened next is possibly familiar. Part of me started to think about the things, (set of soup bowls anyone?) or body parts, (couldn't even raise the deposit with those worn out things), I could sell to allow my eldest offspring to go on an adventure I never had to opportunity to take part in. And, of course, I felt guilty about the fact that I'm spending my time studying and not out working and providing the where-with-all to finance these expeditions.

The other two thirds started to curse the insensitive teacher for raising the hopes of the students and placing yet another pressure on overstretched households in an Objective Two area.

Of course my son knew what the answer was going to be. The clue was in the sentence delivered as he handed over the letter. 'You are going to say no...'

It appears that the teacher involved has told them it is a never- to- be- repeated, once in a life opportunity. 'You know that isn't right love', I said as I folded up the note. 'When you're earning you'll be able to pay for yourself if you want to go. You've got your whole life ahead of you.'

He managed a smile as he thought of this. And then he looked at me, sitting in the Last Chance Saloon, and delivered his final incisive comment:

'Yeah Mum, it's not like you've bought home the note.'

Teenagers - don't you just love 'em?...

Technorati tag: mature student

You've got to hand(bag) it to the boy

www.thesun.co.uk

Well, as someone regularly criticised for the feminine 'weakness' of packing everything barr the kitchen sink into my bag, I did grin when I saw this picture of P'n'B in Venice.

What has Becks got in that enormous Boy Bag?

Answers on the back of a postcard please....


What am I doing looking at The Sun?....umm, well it's media studies innit...

Never too late

"But I proved to myself that I was as good as the rest and I got a certain amount of satisfaction that I had not wasted my time.

"I asked a lot of questions. The young ones were rather dumb as far as speaking up but I induced them to follow suit.

"Lecturers told me I got my degree through persistence." William Cooper, recent graduate, Wolverhampton University.

Quite.

Honours for 89-year-old student

BTW - Is it just me but does 'lower-second-class degree' sound somehow less worthy than a 2:2? Damn those media studies lessons, they've turned me into a cynic...

Technorati tag: mature student

Gnood Gnews

I was tipped off about this book site by Nick and Mike - thanks chaps.

Type in your favourite author and the programme draws a literature map in front of your eyes - the closer two writers are on the map the more likely you are to also enjoy their work.

The site also suggests writers you might like to try, based on a few easy questions, and also provides forums for discussing writers' work.

Enjoy

Oh... and while you are there check out the sister site gnod - an 'experiment in the field of artificial intelligence. Its a self-adapting system, living on this server and 'talking' to everyone who comes along. Gnods intention is to learn about the outer world and to learn 'understanding' its visitors. This enables gnod to share all its wisdom with you in an intuitive and efficient way. You might call it a search-engine to find things you don't know about.'

Basically it allows you to discover music in a similar way.

So very clever.

Proof if proof were needed of why I'm just studying the media....

Technorati tag: mature student writing books

Second Act

So September arrives and with it a booklet from the college outlining Registration, another of those ‘baffling processes’ mentioned by Simon Larter in his article about mature student life.

Despite the fact that we live in a technological age, Registration still involves hundreds of students standing in line on an allotted date and time in a Sports Hall. As requested, you bring your enrolment form, student loan letter, evidence of academic qualifications, (remember to blow the cobwebs off), and a chequebook, (remember to blow the moths out). You’ve also remembered those old school medicals and washed your hair in case ‘Nitty-Nora’ is there to complete the scene. And as you stand there, smelling the distinctive aroma of ‘healthy exercise’ and watching the hard-working staff ticking boxes and issuing pieces of paper, (including that all important letter reducing your council tax), you can’t help but wonder just how difficult it would be to move the whole process into the 20th century – well it wouldn’t be, would it?

I can't believe no one else has thought this, so I have come to the conclusion that Registration is the final frontier - the ultimate test of will and determination to begin study. ‘Being processed’ provides the college with the definitive proof that you’ll breeze through the next three years studying media analysis techniques and Postmodernism. Of course as a mature student you may take a stand against the system. But be warned. Should you choose not to accept the mission, Jim, you will pay the price. A £30 Late Registration Fee. This entry (won’t) self-destruct in five seconds. Good Luck…

Technorati tag: mature student student life college