Never a Cross Word

Listened to a discussion on the ABC today as I was driving, about the value of teachers, what makes a good teacher, and our memories of those who inspired us. It appears that Govt policy is decreeing more and more what they should do and how they should do it, without referring to teachers to see how policy can be aligned with the everyday reality of the classroom situation so staff and students are better resourced. For me, it’s a no-brainer that those at the frontline, the classroom teachers, need to be consulted and included in the process if the eventual outcome is going to be of any benefit to schools, teachers and, heaven forbid, actually be what children need in order to become whole human beings, not just academic human beings.

There are only a few teachers who have lived on in my memory, some for their good qualities and others for the not so good. My last teacher before leaving England when I was 10 was Mr Tutton, a real gem. He had that extra something that made you want to do your best, not just to please him or simply get good marks, but to stretch yourself. His classroom was never in chaos, not because he ruled with a rod of iron, but his manner set the tone for a productive work space where you felt noticed and valued. I still have his final report and letter from March 21^st 1961 intended for my new school in Australia, and it’s become one of those documents I simply cannot discard. His investment in me meant we corresponded for quite some years; I loved receiving those old blue airmail letters to find they were from Mr T.R.Tutton Esq, how wonderfully British.

Anyway, the purpose of this preamble was to lead into my longstanding love of crossword puzzles fostered during my time in Mr Tutton’s class. Language became fascinating, the learning of new words and their meanings, and then to put them together in a pattern so they all crisscrossed each other, I found irresistible as a nine-year old. I became quite obsessive, determined to be the first one to finish the weekly challenge.

Not to be content with ordinary crosswords which became somewhat mundane unless they were particularly difficult, in which case they could also become frustrating, I chanced upon the world of cryptic crosswords which have been tying me up in knots ever since. Those quirky clues that have the answers hidden inside them, and others that well and truly make you think laterally if you’re to connect the dots as it were. I cover up the answers and work my way systematically through, only giving in if my frustration level gets the better of me.

If my little grey cells are going to function well as I head into my senior years, then the cryptics and sudokus and constant reading are going to play a far greater role than just relaxation and enjoyment. I don’t want to get foggy, so mental exercise needs to work hand in hand with physical exercise if my mind is to stay as sharp as those of my mum and dad right up until their last days.

So, thanks Mr Tutton, your tutelage was well invested, your love of education transferred itself to me to the extent where I became a teacher, and even if I haven’t achieved what I might have hoped, there’s still time to learn more and apply myself.

Ok, back to it, if I could just get 13 or 14 down, I’ll be home and hosed.

Monday newspaper

weekend gone in a flash

crossword so puzzling