Posts Tagged: education

Scheming through the second year

Blimey, it’s the end of June, so that means that 50 years ago, I was already well into my stint as a general dogsbody at a furniture trade exhibition in a building which would later become the Air and Space Gallery of the Manchester Museum of Science and Industry, and which has just now become… Continue reading Scheming through the second year

Eng Lit Life, 1973

When I started my degree, we weren’t bombarded with information in the way that freshers are now. Our only source of information was the noticeboard in the English department, which in those days was situated in one of the brutalist concrete buildings that had been built when the university expanded in the sixties. We were… Continue reading Eng Lit Life, 1973

The Tie That Binds

The first time I ever got paid for writing something was in 1985. I’d forgotten about it until yesterday when I found myself in a dusty corner of Manchester University library faced with a long shelf containing bound volumes of The Times Educational Supplement from the sixties to the nineties. I remembered writing a piece… Continue reading The Tie That Binds

Feet of Clay (2)

A.C. Grayling’s pieces on moral dilemmas in The Guardian (later collected into various books) always impressed me. Witty, erudite, elegant, they anatomised the modern ethical landscape, and presented solutions that were often informed by references to classical literature. Grayling has had his detractors as a so-called media don, but it always seemed to me that… Continue reading Feet of Clay (2)

Rap it up

Is writing an email to Radio 4 the modern equivalent of an outraged of Tunbridge Wells-type letter to the Maily Torygraph? Possibly. I was moved to fire off an email yesterday whilst listening to the Saturday Live programme, usually with the delightful Fi Glover, but this week presented by the creepy Rev. Richard Coles(he always… Continue reading Rap it up

End of civilisation as we know it

In 1973, when I went to university as an undergraduate, there were no open days. You were invited for interview, and maybe someone would show you round. Or not. Certainly, no parents would go, and anyone of my generation would have been mortified to be accompanied by parents on this very adult enterprise. Not so… Continue reading End of civilisation as we know it

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