Longing in London

Writing prompt this morning from a friend: Write down your favourite colour, month of year, and city.  Here's my response. 

She walked along the jubilee trail beside the river.  The Thames had an iron grey look today, reflecting the clouds above.  It would rain later; she thought.  In London it always rained, when it didn’t there was a wet feeling on the air.  ‘It’s an island in the middle of the sea,’ she reminded herself.

She stopped looking south along the river; what an impressive sight.  Tate Modern loomed straight ahead.  She knew the path on that side of the river twisted, and turned through Southwark; past Shakespeare’s original Globe theatre, the London City Museum.   Straight ahead was probably the most impressive sights; the Victorian marvel that was Tower Bridge.

She knew without looking the north side was equally impressive; the Gherkin stood looking over the river.  St. Paul’s cathedral balanced out Tate Modern.  The tower stood; a stubborn fortress guarding the river, and the city as it had for centuries.  How could she give this up?

She was bored of the landscape; so much grey, white, and black.  She longed for colour; a splash of red in the fall leaves.  The trees would be changing colour at home; rich reds, and gold’s.  She closed her eyes leaning against the railing; she could almost feel the warmth sunlight on her face.  She took a deep breath opening them again.  She was surrounded by grey, and, white.  The red bricks even carrying a dull sheen. 

She couldn’t fault the city for that; she loved it here.  She loved its nooks and crannies; Carnaby Street tucked away almost as a private treasure.  Loved wandering through the museums; she could disappear into the British museum for hours at a time.  The Churchill War Rooms were her favourite, it was as if stepping through time into the 1940’s.  You expected the old bulldog himself to come wandering out of his bunk, asking you to take notes.

Home though held its allure.  She missed the changing seasons; the changing leaves in fall, the blossoms in spring.   She missed family, friends.  The homesickness was on her now, and she stopped to rest on a bench staring out at the river.

What was to stop her from going home? She knew almost before she thought about it.  Home wasn’t the same since he’d married her.  She’d been accused of stealing jewellery, and her dad took his new wife’s side over his original daughter’s.

What about her mother? Her mother had remarried, and made it clear there was no room for her there.  She’d had a second family.  So here she was in London; an amazing city, yet longing to be somewhere  else.

The death of the honour roll?

Honour Roll at my high school was around the 75% mark.  I managed to make it three times in five years; I still have the certificates somewhere.  There was always a special breakfast once a semester for honour roll kids.  It gave me something to aim for; to see if I could make it again next semester.  Usually I'd try my best, but wouldn't necessarily get it.  My attitude was "there's always next term." And no matter what I always felt I had done my best.

School boards in Alberta are doing away with the honour roll, and all year-end awards.  No more most-improved, no more best mark, or best attendance.  Officials at St. Basil Catholic School in Calgary argue in a Calgary Herald article that awards eventually lose their shine.  They're also citing the effect on self esteem of students singling them out. 

It's unrealistic.  In the real world you're singled out for doing a good job, and told when you're not.   What better place to teach kids this key lesson than the relatively sheltered environment of a school.  Recognition for doing a good job is never a bad thing; it encourages people to keep doing it.  And it inspires others to join them.

Awards lose their shine.  I'm at the point in my career where it matters more that I can get the exclusive, or make the front page of a newspaper than whether I made the honour roll in high-school.  The work ethic involved in making the honour roll never goes away, and that can be attractive to universities, and future employers.

It makes me wonder about this generation of kids coming up.  If they have no hope of recognition for a job well done, then what will they be like in the work force? Will they try as hard? Will they learn as much? If they can't understand failure, and success what hope is there? If we don't teach them the importance of achievement then what kind of Canada are we making?

What role do parents have to play? When I was at school, my marks were always okay by my parents as long as I could look them in the eye and tell them I'd done my best.  Even now as I'm taking an online class as an adult, I'm finding the mark means less than the knowledge.


Keep the honour roll in place; give kids something to aim for.  Achievement inspires excellence.