I'm sitting in a ski lodge, in the middle of the UK. The sun is shining, and I'm sat inside looking out over the slopes, writing my first Steemit blog out by hand - whilst I wait for my account to be verified. Obviously it is activated now, otherwise you wouldn't be able to read it.
I love to hand write things out. It's an art form that is possibly dying out, with technology so readily available. I find my mind is more creative when I have a pen in my hand, rather than a keyboard at the end of my fingertips. I wrote all my assignments out by hand for my Bachelors and Masters Degrees over the last four years - including my twenty thousand word dissertation! For me, the pen is mightier than the keyboard.
I went to university to fulfil a life long dream. Since I was a child, I knew I wanted to be a teacher, but I put off going to university because I didnt think I could do it - after all, I was told on many occasions by different people, that I wasn't clever enough to be a teacher. I managed to fail my GCSE in child development for crying out loud, and an average C grade for the rest of my exams - which broke my Mums heart - she thought the "C" grade was embarrassingly low.
My mum passed away when I was 25, and I decided I needed change my life, get out of a job going no-where, and start training to be a teacher. It still took me 2 years to pluck up the courage to start my journey. And its turned into a long journey. I started back at college when I was 27 to do a 2 year access course just to get into uni. I later found out that I didnt actually really need to do this course - the college suckered me in to joining.
I then joined De Montfort univertsity (DMU) at the tender age of 29, for a three year degree in Education Studies, which i thought would obviously lead me to doing my PGCE in Primary Education. I met my partner the same year, and he was such a support, I don't know if I'd have managed to continue the degree without him. And DMU you wonderful too - I'd recommend them to anyone, I will sing their praises for the rest of my life.
I digress - in the middle of my third year, whilst starting my undergrad dissertation, I had to start applying for my Teacher Training course - I thought it was going to be easy. Who wouldn't want me as a teacher? After all, Im great with children. Boy was I wrong - I applied for at least seven teacher training courses, interviewed for all of them, did maths and English tests for them all, I even presented mini lesson with small groups of children, and took part in presentation and debates. I got turned down by all of them. I was distraught - my confidence was at an all time low, I didn't know who I was anymore, and I certainly didn't know what I was going to do in life anymore. My life long dream had been shattered. And I fell out of love with teaching and the education system.
I felt as though all the people, who had told me I wasn't clever enough to be a teacher, were right. What the hell did I think I was doing trying to prove them wrong?
But then I got a 2:1 in my degree, after being predicted a 2:2 - and my goodness, my confidence shot through the roof. I've had never felt proud of myself before, but the pride in myself that day was shining, my face aching from smiling and crying so much. I knew I could do anything, and so I stayed on at DMU to do my Masters, from which I graduated from this week. By the end of this, I was toying with the idea of going on to do my PHD - but that might have to wait a few years yet.
Throughout the fours years at DMU, I volunteered at a local primary school - that story can be saved for another blog - then alongside my masters degree and this volunteer spot, I also became a mentor for second year students studying computer programming module. And would you believe it, I was actually really good at it - I was good at teaching adults. I'd found my new dream, and I couldn't believe I hadn't thought about it before, because I love doing presentations.
My Masters was over then. And I had a new plan. I rushed into applying for a Post 16 PGCEat the same college that mis-sold me the Access Course. I tend to rush into a lot of things once I have an idea in my head, I rush ahead with it, not wanting to waste life.
The college course was god damn shit and pointless, and they wanted us to be patronising teachers, which isn't my style - again, this should be saved for another blog. I quit a term into the two year course, I just could't carry on - even though I knew I would be wasting £2000 if I quit. I rushed into joining the course, and rushed into quitting it again.
So where am I now? I'm sitting here writing this whilst watching my partner learning to ski, drinking hot chocolate with Irish Cream, and realising that I've not actually told you much about me as promised in the title of this blog. And although I realise I could just type something different in the title section, I won't because then you won't get to judge me and form your first opinions of me - where would be the fun in denying that pleasure?
I have no idea where my life is going, or what my goal is anymore. And Im OK with that, for now - after all, its not the destination thats important, its all about the journey.