Posts Tagged ‘Welsh history’

Rebecca Riots, Friends and University Bureaucracy

Friday, October 16th, 2009

The Rebecca Riots

The Rebecca Riots

It’s still proving to be a new and novel experience to be a full-time University student at the age of 61. However, it’s been quite different from my expectations. It’s been much harder work than I expected – well I have been coasting lazily for almost two years other than working on the house and my hobbies. The amount of reading we have to do is quite terrifying. Then there are essays to plan for, seminars to prepare for and deadlines to cut one’s wrists for.

The best part is the friends I have made already. Somehow, eight of us have teamed up as an unusual group of good friends. All but one of us live outside Bangor in the area between Holyhead, Penygroes and Mold and one in Halls in the Catholic chaplaincy. At the risk of ruining everything we’ve built so far, here’s a little about each of them. Josh – the one in the chaplaincy – explains that he’s there primarily because the priest gives out free beer and sandwiches at the social evenings. His biggest concern is if he can recall the words of a ‘Hail Mary’ if called upon. He is one of the four ‘economy-size’ blokes in our group (yes, I’m another one). We’re all the right weight, just several inches shorter than we should be. Neil, who has the amazing middle name Messerschmitt on Facebook, is a computer whizz who keeps us all in stitches. Then there’s Gareth. What can I say about Gareth that won’t involve me in a libel suit? Well, he cheats at Scrabble – you wouldn’t believe the words he uses. If you ever feel you need an opinion on anything, well Gareth will have one! ‘Larger than life’ is somehow a pale and inadequate description. Completing the male contingent, the fourth man is not Anthony Blunt but Joe. The quietest of all of us, he has passionate political views and often just smiles as the rest of us put the world to rights with passion.

Three women complete our group. Lesley, who is a near neighbour of mine, shares my problems of holding two lives in tension. Hers is a busy farm life and she’s questioning whether she can do both farm and university. We’re all trying to encourage her as none of us want to see her leave. I’m trying not to let the fact I get the odd lift home from Lesley affect my judgement! Rhonwen is a first-language Welsh speaker and helps me with my Welsh module – actually, not that much yet, but I’ll be calling on her more. She and Jen, the final member of the group have been a real surprise to me. They both look like whatever the female equivalent to ‘mild-mannered Clark Kent’ but the reality is very different. A hundred years ago they would have been up there with Emily Pankhurst and the Suffragettes fighting. Jen was the first to draft a stinging letter of complaint to the Estates Department, followed by Rhonwen, concerning the completely useless so called ‘parking arrangements’ for students. I was only sorry that we don’t have the facility to do Harry Potter type ‘howlers’, which is really what was called for. They are two feisty ladies!

I’ve been so impressed by the kindness shown to one another in the group (sometimes heavily disguised in the case of some of the lads) as each of us has had the pressures of ordinary life and university life together. In fact, I hit the wall on Wednesday and went down with a bug half way through the day and went to bed with a 38.4deg temperature after throwing up. One the third day I rose again (not the most famous resurrection in history, I know) but all the gang showed concern and sent supportive emails, Rhonwen offering to take notes for me.

That was in marked contrast to my university lecturers who chose to ignore my emails of apology that I would be unable to attend their lecture. We were told to do this with dire consequences if we failed to show for a lecture without having sent apologies. I sent four emails (four lectures and seminars that day) and not one had an acknowledgement. Would it have hurt them to hit the ‘reply’ button and typed ‘Thanks for letting me know’? Just forget, ‘I hope you are better soon’. All I got was a threat from one lecturer who said I failed to show up at her seminar and would get a yellow card next time. So much for Bangor University’s supporting culture.

So, Rebecca Riots? Well, that’s my essay due two weeks today. I can hear ‘Rebecca, Scotch Cattle and the Chartist Movement’ calling me, ‘Amser gweithio prifysgol’. Blogging is far more fun.

A Survivor’s Account of Freshers Week

Friday, September 25th, 2009
My student ID

My student ID

Finally today, five frantic, bewildering, exhausting, confusing, amusing, frustrating, exciting and even inspiring days have come to an end and I’m a fully-fledged, card-carrying ‘Is-raddedig / Undergraduate’ at Bangor University.

I started the week planning to read Welsh History and Archaeology and finally settled on Welsh History with History (it makes sense even if it looks odd!) with an intermediate level Welsh language module. I’ve experienced the student frustration of hanging about between sessions killing an hour here and there and concentrated on finding all the places I could sit comfortably and get a coffee.

My personal tutor is a Welshman and we hit it off straight away. He helped me change my course and sorted out the problems with my login which still wanted to look at my IT courses I did in the Spring rather than my brand-new shiny School of History ones. We were told in our school induction that we have to look for information in our email inbox, on Blackboard (the University course info board), notice boards in a dimly-lit corridor, in our pigeon holes and I suspect, in true Harry Potter fashion, brought by owls. If you’ve seen our building, it does put you in mind of Hogwarts but with marginally fewer towers. I’m sure I shall miss vital information in all that lot!

The Module Fair was a complete scrum, everybody attempting to get to desks of harassed lecturers and administrators, staggering around looking dazed and confused. My form with a changed course as some false starts would have presented a major problem in interpretation but somehow seemed to have worked.

By the end of day two, all of us were bonding rapidly. This was mainly because information overload meant we could only survive by piecing the information together from the scraps we individually retained, that had managed to penetrate our ears which felt like they were bleeding from overuse!

The main event of day three was Serendipity (the Freshers’ Fair) which my sons (both ’90s graduates) had encouraged me to attend and, “Join everything Dad, you’ll love it. And you’ll get a free Pot Noodle and a tin of baked beans!” Well, I spent over two hours there and I have to be honest and say that like the Curate’s Egg, it was ‘good in parts’. (Google ‘Curate’s Egg’ if that reference baffles you.) My problem was that at 61 years old I simply didn’t look like a student and many people didn’t know whether to speak to me or not. I am sure nobody was intentionally discourteous and eventually I started to speak to people when they handed leaflets to students preceding and following me. Two people thought I wasn’t a student and another said they thought I wouldn’t be interested (but I was), and two others simply apologised and gave me literature. It’s going to mean positive choices on my part to fit in: I’m three times older than most students and I live off-campus in Deiniolen (8 miles from Bangor).

I did join a few societies: the Welsh Learners’ Society, Seren, the African-Caribbean Society (because they were the friendliest people at Serendipity), the Christian Union, Unity (the LGBT society to support my son) and a few others. I got some dry instant noodles from the Lidl stand in their goodie bag but no baked beans! I also got a year’s supply of pens and pencils, no less than five (!) bottle openers, a mug, a torch, a mouse mat, some notepads and far too many sweets, all of which I gave away immediately!

The final hurdle was Registration (that capital ‘R’ is appropriate as it’s the culmination of the week) which took place on day 4. The day was complicated for me as doctor’s visit for my wife resulted in a very rapid appointment at Ysbyty Gwynedd and I dropped her at the hospital and drove on the mile or so to the University to register. I was about the join the 700 yard queue when my phone went with a text. Christine had texted me, “Had scan now waiting for op”. I went white as a sheet – straight into the operating theatre? One of the organisers of the event (I suspect the head man because of the way all the staff deferred to him) asked me if I was OK. I explained I was there to register but I’d dropped my wife at the hospital and I was concerned to get back. He immediately said for me to come back tomorrow to register if I could. I asked him if it would be possible to jump the queue and he took me up to collect my magic green form and I was through registration in 10 minutes!

I texted Christine and asked her to call me as soon as she could. The phone rang almost immediately in response. I blurted out anxiously to Christine, “So what’s this about you going in for an immediate operation, you said you were waiting for an op?” A puzzled silence followed, then through helpless laughter she responded, “No, not an operation, I’m waiting for out-patients!” I wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or to kill her.

And so all I have on my agenda today is a social for mature students over a pint tonight. I’m not sure whether I want to make a strong association with mature students or not. I see myself as a student who lives off-campus and want to make friends with my fellow students of all ages. Later in the semester, I plan to invite some home for Christine’s home cooked meals and to use our house to relax.

I’ve worked out my timetable for lectures and seminars and can’t wait for week 1, semester 1, year 1 of my course at Bangor University to start on Monday.