Tectonic Plates

Over the last few weeks I've been playing a game. I slide up to people I know, brighter and wiser people, and all nonchalant like, when they least expect, it I ask them:

'So, what do you think about adoption?'

What interesting things people say. They normally ask for clarification 'why, what do you mean, eh?' Then we talk, I ask few questions and they give a few answers and the things people that have said to me have been very interesting, very interesting indeed.

It's not a game. My views have shifted, slowly like tectonic plates from the naive ill informed enthusiasm of 18 years ago to now. The trouble is that I'm not sure what I think, I am but I aren't.

Riding up the country gave me time to ponder, but I came up empty, more questions than answers.

The money that changes hands and the business, the dogma and the ideology, injustices and punishment, the challenges and recruitment, the expectations and the promises, the hopes and the dreams, the realities and the wonder,  the adopters, the families, the children, the love. I've not even mentioned human rights and parental responsibilities.

Increasingly I struggle to articulate my thoughts in words and though I can offer to demonstrate my views through expressive dance there's too much to say.

In no way am I turning my back on adoption and I am certain that I love the children in my life I've been given to parent. I even struggle to say my children these days. Perhaps that's a reaction to the US adoption month stuff that floats around the internet. Perhaps that's too much airy fairy social worky thinking. Perhaps it's all too much airy fairy social worky thinking.

Of course my views are informed by my relatively narrow experience and the experience of those I come into contact with. But there's a yearning to know more. So, blog about nothing but that's what I'm doing now looking for more understanding and nuance. I worry that my views push beyond my knowledge and into opinion that I become an empty vessel, hollow but loud. So, if you seem me slide up to you prepare yourself I might expect you to give account of your views.

EAG Adoption Support Group: Education

The quarterly DfE Expert Advisory Group rolled around and this time the focus was on education. Crickey, release the floodgates. Without doubt one of the topics that I'm sure any parent, adoptive or not, will be able to share an opinion or two on usually with gusto. 

To start with we touched on the meeting that the Adoption UK's Adopter's Voice programme had held at the DfE and Sally D and I fed back from that. 

We then moved onto the main focus of the meeting and with Peter Sandiford giving feedback from the PAC UK's survey on education.  Our special guest, Gareth Marr,  followed this with a presentation on thoughts and benefits of the Virtual Schools incorporating adopted children into their remit.  Both very good and helpful, to be honest they were preaching to the choir and we all saw the benefits that could be actualised if the Virtual Schools did this. Certainly Gareth's charismatic presence added weight to the argument and it was a pleasure to have his experience brought to bear.

It's clear that in the short term that no edict will be issues to make heads of the virtual schools incorporate adopted children into their virtual schools. However, some have and  this has been found to be beneficial for the adopted children and as was noted if it benefits one child in a classroom then it is likely to benefit all the children. 

One of the key roles of the Virtual School is to train teaching staff and I find the argument that in training and equipping schools to support and accommodate adopted children they will develop a skill set that will benefit all children. So, to sell it to schools re frame the training required as part of a range of necessary teaching skills in supporting pupils in relation to loss, separation, bereavement, trauma and, finally, attachment. The number of children that are impacted by these events far out number adopted children. I'm thinking divorce, separation, children of those incarcerated or in the armed forces, bereavement, those experiencing abuse or living in a violent home. A range of experiences but the reality is that if schools see the bigger picture they are more likely to be able to incorporate specific children's needs as well as histories and home contexts.

In no way was the meeting derogatory towards teaching staff and it was acknowledged the challenges that they face in the context of Ofsted requirements and increasingly punitive behaviour contracts and  the like. Lots was discussed and there is more to be unpicked and that will no doubt be done over the next few months and added into the pot.

So, in summary a positive EAG meeting group discussion. 

Day 4: To Northumberlandia

12:49 am and day 3 had creeped into day 4. I was laying in the swallow barn in a barn, eating Hula Hoops and trying to read my copy of The Cruel Sea I'd lugged 306 miles up the country. My mind dotted around conversations and thoughts from that evening with Amanda B to the pondering that I'd indulged in as I rode. If anything I've come away more confused than ever. There appears to very few certainties in the realm of adoption with nuance and questions in direct opposition to dogma and historic practice. 

We slept late and took a lift to the nearest bike shop after I've fixed yet another puncture.

After a quick fix we headed off into the rain. In all my days cycling I've never been so cold with the wet. Zippy weeped with joy as his rear mech unravelled, stood under a bush I pushed my skills to the limit while he ate yet another snickers and giggled. 

23 miles later we drew up to my old friend's, D & D. As adopters of 15 children they are legends and caught Mrs C & I when we fell. Top draw people. 

True to form they fed us and dried out our clothes, two hours later we set off on the last leg wrapped in plastic bags, classy.

The last leg through the industrial landscape of County Durham and Tyneside was in stark contrast to the central London landscape we'd set off from. The temperature dropped and we slogged past the iconic northern landscapes.

Then we arrived in the dark, Mrs C a Colour Carwen and Lotty welcomed us an we were relieved.

We said some words, I threw my parliament green mud at her face. Northumberlandia is a thing of beauty but to many who live in her shadow she's a symbol of corruption and greed.

We prayed and then we took our last trip less than a mile to my home. 

Zippy is an awesome companion. Tensing to Hillary, Oates to Scott, Golum to Frodo. I swear if he offers me one more Snicker I shall not be responsible for my actions.  

Day 3: Into the darkness

Like an over keen puppy Zippy announced that he'd got another puncture over the breakfast table today. So, as he settled in for another round of toast, tea and croissants I toiled on his mobile thorn catcher.
I can confess that the delicate balance of our relationship had deteriorated somewhat and his chirpy attitude had worn very thin.

With hope in our hearts we set off with our eyes on the sky and minds on the hills. The morning flew by and with the wind on out backs. It's impossible to not be cheered at the sight of Zippy ordering a cubic yard of chips then consuming them to the amazement of all bystanders. So I have to confess to feel a slight warming of my frosty attitude.

From York we climbed to the North Yorkshire foot hills where disaster struck on a particular speedy dissent my spoke snapped. Hoping that I wouldn't lose my registration I seconded the local toilets for a makeshift repair shop.

Then onwards and upwards into the blackness we headed for the Open Nest's secret mountain hideaway. A stunning, though nervous ride, through the dark night was the highlight and lowlight of the night.

Then we arrived to an evening of thoughts, chat, and plotting.

98 miles in the hardest of circumstances.

Tomorrow 95 miles on a broke bike. Without battle there is no victory.

Day 2: Wisbech to Retford

In theory this was going to be the 'easy' day but the fates had a different plan. As did Zippy who proactively sought out every thorn he could find in Lincolnshire.

With hope in our hearts, prayers on our lips and thought in our minds we set off.

The cold wind was on our backs but as we slowly headed West we caught the stout 16 mph head/cross wind. 50 miles into a headwind is no fun and the Fens flat landscape had promised an easy ride but in reality it gave us no respite from the wind.

Hours of grind and even Zippy's cheerful disposition dissolved and we drew back to our own inner worlds as we slogged out the miles. If you cycle you know it can be a marvellous place for reflection and I did plenty of that, writing imaginary blog posts that I'll never publish, gnashing my teeth at the injustices.

By the time Zippy was on is third puncture I confess to have become somewhat miffed and this was exacerbated as he napped while I fixed it. If we remain friends it will be a miracle.

One of the thorns

We finally arrived at 7:30pm , totally done in and 100 miles nearer to our destination.
Tomorrow we head for The Open Nest in the mountain top hideaway.

Anyway, must sleep.

Big Ben to Northumberlandia: Day 1 (setting out)

With hope in our hearts and porridge in our bellies we set off before dawn. I had been a little distressed the night before as  I'd snapped a spoke and been unable to true the wheel. So it was all a bit wobbly, physically and emotionally.  Zippy was also concerned so I tried to lighten the mood by announcing that my training had consisted of eating pies and thinking about cycling. He was not impressed nor was his concern eased. I’m slightly worried about Zippy.

We went to Parliament Green and I stole some soil to take back, a symbol, and off we set.

By good fortune we arrived at the door of Condor Cycles at 8am and they kindly had it fixed and had us back on the road by 8:35. They even gave us free energy gels when they heard that we were stupid enough to be attempting to ride to Northumberland.

So onwards. The rest of the day consisted of city, towpath, hills, rather smashing cycling paths in Cambridge and a slog through the Friday night commute in the dark.

Zippy did fall off but I blame that to the 20kg of Snickers that he has in his back pack, it clearly unbalanced him. He was attempting a rather flamboyant 180 aerial manoeuvre that would have made Evil Knievel baulk and he hit the ground like a bag of hammers. Honestly, I could hardly breath as I laughed so hard, I think I may have soiled myself. My social work training is good for something, and I like to think my empathic response was evident as I checked his snicker supply for damage.

Anyway he was fine and he is a splendid companion and in no way am I annoyed at his endless enthusiasm.

108 miles.

Lots of thoughts about the state of the nation, time is something you have when you cycle and my mind is full. 

So far I've a great title for a blog, no content, just a title without any content.

Day 1: The route

Not including the distance from Zippy's pad to Big ben (9miles)

Day 1: It's many things but it's not a gentle start. Zippy claims that this is just a 'warm up' but clearly has has no idea what he's talking about. His capacity for optimism is only matched by his love of Snickers bars and Ale.