A Nightmare for Students

One morning this week I was staring at an e-pigeonhole on my laptop screen, which included a frame of me arranged in a neat set of rows containing anywhere between six to twelve others. The silence became obvious as no one actually prayed - that momentary interlude which usually occurs in prayer meetings when each one of us is stuck in not knowing what to say or to ask for.

I guess Zoom is that one opportunity when anyone in the virtual meeting can look into the privacy of another's home to see whether some idiosyncratic feature or possession would give a clue to the owner's personality, such as a skylight in view covered in dead insects. Indeed, this owner loves to keep dead insects trapped between the two panes of his skylight. Another has a large map of the world hanging on the wall behind him, and so, it looks as if this guy is into cartography. Or he may simply like wall maps. Another may have a fully-stocked bookshelf behind him. Ah! So this guy is very clever, having a well-developed intellect. Unfortunately, some of the prayer meeting participants had wised up to this and now ensures that only a blank wall is seen behind them. 

At least with me, I love the idea of other Zoomers to see the display of travel pictures hanging on the wall behind me, although pity about the panoramic scene of the Grand Canyon which dominates the wall (which incidentally, was purchased at Poole, Dorset, some eight years after visiting the Grand Canyon in 1995.) To focus the camera on that would mean that the frame would shoot over the top of my head. Not very helpful in prayer meetings.

Suddenly the silence was broken by one of the participants asking God to help those students who weren't able to take their A-Level exams this year due to Covid-19. Trying to stir some empathy here, I imagined putting myself in their shoes. How bitterly frustrating it must be, studying hard at school for many months, including homework and revision in readiness to sit the most important exam which will determine the direction for the rest of life, only for all sittings to be cancelled due to a wretched virus. Then the excitement of "the fresher's party" or other social activity at their commencement of University in celebration of flying the parent's nest for the first time. That too, so I heard or read about, is now cancelled due to the pandemic.

During my lifetime, years come and years go, so I see annually, graduates on the top of the pile line up for a group photograph and then throw their mortarboards high into the air, perhaps symbolising the end of all education and the beginning of a new chapter of life - the real world of work. Or is it a gap-year first before the business suit? That narrow slice of opportunity to see the world and even work abroad such as teaching English to students overseas. A little later in the same year, another group of new entrants, or freshers, enter the institution, a dream world which I have longed to partake in but such an opportunity hadn't so far knocked on my door. 

The Internet has indeed opened a new world for many graduates. Here I'm referring to YouTubers, nearly all-male grads who either threw off their business suits for a life of professional video-making or had managed to establish a channel on Google soon after graduating. Last week I highlighted three atheistic YouTube channels - Alex O'Connor, Drew McCoy and SciManDan, with more than 133,700,000 views between them. Then other male YouTubers specialise in travel, and both Alex and I watched them. Again I can pick out three: Jason Billam Travel who at 16.00 hours on August 15th, 2020, had 32,786,603 views; Gabriel Morris, who has 88,004,930 views; and finally, Explore with Josh, with 438,183,555 views - a statistic which is greater than all three atheist YouTubers added together, although Josh specialises in derelict houses, prisons, asylums, hospitals, hotels, and schools all around the globe, and, unlike the others who work on their own, Josh also has a team of two or three accompanies to help shoot each video.

All three earn their living by fulfilling their dreams - to travel the world and making videos, with fame thrown in for good measure. These shoots have to be thoroughly professional to meet Google's rigorous standards, and all appear to be graduates. Jason Billam is typical. He delivers his narration in a plum Surrey accent, whilst Gabriel Morris admitted his past graduation in a typical American drawl.

Indeed, with fame-inducing lifestyles like these three, no wonder that they have shed their faceless business suits (or never wore them in the first place) to pursue such a profession! Yet I could pick any of the hundreds of YouTubers and I'll be very hard-pressed to find any of them wearing a tie - an item of honour here in the UK as I perceive it to distinguish the well-educated professional from the boiler-suit-clad worker whose vocation involves dirty hands, and thus, the tie can have a snobby ring to it. Just look at Eton and Oxford-educated Tory MP Jacob Rees-Mogg who would never appear in public without a suit and tie - regardless of hot weather and being on holiday.

Jacob Rees-Mogg on holiday in New York, Summer 2018.

And so prayer was delivered up to God on Zoom on behalf of these students, the majority unbelievers. With the news that their estimated A-Level results of 40% of students had been downgraded by a computer has infuriated them to the point of seeking legal action. To them, it's a time of desperation, a moment of frustration that a worldwide pandemic had arrived at our shores at the worst possible time of their lives. If only they had been born just three or four years earlier. By now they would have sailed through all higher education and now pursuing the career of their dreams. And that could include world travelling YouTubing.

Perhaps I feel nonplussed by it all. Especially if the Media seem to concentrate on the plight of female students. Like that in today's Daily Mail national newspaper where the grieving snapshots of three young women were featured together with their testimonies along with the absence of male participants. To me, they give the impression that their world is about to end, the prospect of glittering careers under threat, the possibility of facing a gloomy life without any direction, nothing to build any hope upon. If only their grandmothers had told these girls that two of their regular school subjects were housecraft (cooking) and needlework as part of preparing for the home as adults while their future husbands were trained to be the breadwinner, taking up vocational jobs in the industrial world, construction, mechanical engineering, and a variety of skilful crafts and trades.

And so, when I left school in 1968 without any qualifications to show, my first task in my new job was to sweep the factory floor. Small fry. A mere iota in this big, dirty, family-owned furniture-making firm where my hands were covered in oil-based wood stain and need to be washed thoroughly in inflammable spirits before soaping and holding under the running tap. Yet I thought no more of it, it was the day-to-day life of a school-leaver without any qualifications, nothing more, nothing less. Really, it does make me think about how can an average school-leaver with ambitions for University cope in such a situation. Could it be, yes, could it be that their perception of a successful career is far way too high and lofty to even consider sweeping the floor?

It doesn't seem to occur to these students that if their car was to break down in the middle of a long journey, the mechanic with grease-smeared hands would be far more useful and helpful than one videoing a gelateria at a street in a southern Italian city. It can also be said that the cheerful grave digger whistles merrily as he shovels the earth back in to cover the coffin which holds the corpse of the company executive.

Yes, I started working life as a small fry, an insignificant cog in a large machine which has constantly kept me in my place with a weekly pay of just £4.00. But if this is as low one can get, then the only way is up.

And this began with my conversion from atheism to faith in Jesus Christ as Saviour in December 1972. Tremendous changes came after that. As I started to read the Bible, I felt both intelligence and wisdom began to grow, and I began to acquire knowledge. Like many other newly-converted Christians, there were parts of the Bible which I found difficult to connect, especially about the lives of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob and particularly with Joseph. It was a few years later while I was at someone's home when I came across a series of a comic book version of the Bible, and the owner was pleased to lend them to me. That is the whole Bible in the form of a comic strip. Suddenly everything fell into place and my understanding of Holy Scripture grew.

Including the prominence of Jerusalem in both the Old and New Testaments which inspired me to visit the Holy Land in 1976. And this was how I responded to the prayer. Although it sounds as if I was unsympathetic to the student's cause, actually I was right not to show too much pity. As one who left school without any qualifications and started working by sweeping the floor, not only had I survived for half a century by dirtying my hands, I also added how knowing God is the ultimate fulfilment in life, including growth in knowledge and wisdom, my visits to the Holy Land, our strong, loving marriage, and my denial of high education and careers being the be-all-and-end-all for our existence. Then I prayed for them to know God to be their purpose, as we are all going to die one day. Indeed, our lives are about the afterlife and are centred on it.

And the whole virtual group was in agreement. And my name was even quoted in prayers which followed.

Western Wall, Jerusalem, taken 1994.

Now I wished that I was more specific. Such as how I felt God be glorified when he allowed me to visit great locations such as the Great Barrier Reef, the thundering roar of Niagara Falls and the immense Grand Canyon. Not to mention a hike through a rainforest and waterfalls at Blue Mountains N.P. along with the admiration of tropical trees and vegetation not found in the UK. Furthermore, I can boast on God allowing me to look up at the night sky Down Under and see the Southern Cross directly above my head - a bane to my graduate friends whose hobby happens to be stargazing.

Therefore, may these students find their satisfaction in God through faith in the Crucified, Buried and Resurrected Jesus Christ of Nazareth. 

Oh, The Things We Don't See...

Earlier in the week, my wife Alex and I watched Simon Reeve's report about Cuba on the BBC. As with all documentaries about far away lands, we as viewers get the impression that the presenter is all alone, by himself. Bravely trekking through often dangerous territory unknown to tourists, or through a politically explosive environment, the presenter reels off a huge amount of local knowledge, vast enough for the likes of me to ponder how on earth could he have possibly stored it all in his head, and breeze it all out without making any error on the facts. Of course, when he talks, he always looks straight at us from the television screen. Then again don't we all look at the person listening when we are talking to him?

I have watched several travel programmes made by Reeve, including a series about circumventing the whole of the Indian Ocean from South Africa to Perth in Australia. During  this particular journey, he visited countries of political and environmental extremes such as from the war-torn Somalia Republic on the eastern horn of Africa, to the paradise islands of the Maldives. He also made three Round-the-World documentaries as he travelled along the Tropic of Capricorn, the Equator and the Tropic of Cancer. Yet despite his enviable travel adventures and the national fame which came with them, he is a character I grew to admire and respect. One of his attributes I like so much is the way he dresses during presentation: not in a suit and tie but in casual clothes with some face stubble, without the need to deliberately look scruffy, and with a personality to match.

BBC Presenter Simon Reeve

Curious, I decided to check out this globe-trotting presenter on his own website. When I clicked, About Simon, which is to do with his biography, these are the words I read:

Simon attended a local comprehensive in West London and was described as an unspectacular student. After a series of terrible jobs, including working in a supermarket, a jewellery shop and a charity shop, Simon finally found gainful employment as a post boy at a national newspaper.

What? Terrible jobs? Terrible jobs? Wow! So working in Retail is classed as a terrible job? I must admit, I felt somewhat aghast in reading that statement, although I'm not sure if Reeve himself was the author or was this the opinion of the biographer - as the whole page was written referring to him in the third person. True, I guess that a routine in the supermarket can be stressful, with a huge influx of customers, many of them becoming impatient as they wait unnecessarily long at the checkout line. Then again, the job title Shelf Stacker does not convey the idea of the employee having graduated from Oxford. But surely, working at a jewellers must be a totally different environment altogether. Not even during the Christmas rush do people make a beeline to the jewellers. Maybe that was it, the job became crushingly boring, even if the assistant was bestowed with a very high level of trust by the shop owner or manager. However, such attitude reflect our class-warped British culture. It is also true that many of these Retail posts are taken by immigrants, mostly from Eastern Europe but also from Asia. The common thought is that many Britons see Retail as something beneath them, as the above statement so ardently reflects. I would hate how this biographer would have thought about domestic window cleaning, particularly in Winter.

The fact that Simon was "an unspectacular student" was just a posh way of saying that he was either dim in his youth, or he just wasn't interested in the curriculum. He attended a comprehensive, the equivalent of the secondary modern which I attended. In other words, Simon Reeve failed his primary eleven-plus exam and was not selected for grammar school, nor did he wear the famous School Tie of Eton, Harrow, Rugby or Winchester. Yet during his employment as a newspaper post boy, he found time to study foreign current affairs, from which he submitted papers from which publication lead to his big break with the BBC. In other words, he graduated to degree status at home.

Therefore at present, we see him as if he travels the world all alone, well not quite. He always had a local guide with him, and whenever he knocks on the door to where he is to spend the night, the door always opens and is warmly welcomed. I can compare this with my own travels. For example, when I arrived at New York from London in 1995, I entered one backpacker's hostel after another without being offered a bed, due to a surge in students spending the last week or so on the town before returning to their colleges. This was after making one or two calls from my apartment before take-off. Eventually I found a squalid, cockroach-infested room at a seedy hotel on 8th Avenue. And I had no guide, nor was I was in company at the host's table, as Reeve always seem to be.

And oh yes, talking at the TV screen, often walking while doing so. If I was to talk alone into the air, anyone watching would think that I was a nut who had escaped from a loony asylum. With Reeve, we all watch, glued to the screen. There is the difference. Neither Reeve or any other presenter travel alone. Instead, they always have a team with them, including camera crew and a director, plus various other crew members as needed. Having a team also protects him from danger if broadcasting from a political dangerous territory, as he has the whole corporation behind him, who was involved in arranging the local guide as well as hotels, guesthouses and private homes, along with all travel payments and facilities, and what to present along with how to go about it.

That is what is hidden in a typical TV documentary, especially involving travel, the things we don't see. The TV crew who accompanies the presenter, and makes sure everything goes hunky-dory. What I'm really saying is, if given the chance and allowed the right preparations, even over months, I have actually pondered whether presenting such a documentary would have been within my abilities! With such back-up, any potential error in facts would be edited out, and with a speech impediment, a more than average number of outtakes may be required. The only setback to this idea is that our culture requires that a university degree is demanded for this occupation. Simon Reeve has disproved this. Only having done a mere average at school, I believe that a period of his life working at a "terrible job" had benefited him well, refining his character and developed a pleasing personality.

As for myself making a presentation, let's take the Grand Canyon, a location which has always dazzled me since I saw it first time in 1978. We know that it is approximately two hundred miles long and about 1,600 metres deep. It is a huge gorge cut through the Colorado Plateau by the constant flow of the Colorado River. Between 1880 and 1881, Clarence Dutton, a British geologist who also had an interest in eastern religions, gave names to many of the more spectacular features within the Canyon. Buttes such as Buddha Temple, Zoroaster Temple, Cheops Pyramid, Isis Temple, Wotan's Throne, Deva Temple, Brahma Temple, Hopi Point, O'Neal's Butte, Plateau Point, Tonto Plateau and other features were all unknown to me when I completed the two hikes to the River, first in 1978 then again in 1995. But with thorough research, using both maps and photography, all of these became familiar. How possible would it have been to research before the hike, and then give a running commentary on the trail, together with an expert guide who would have corrected any error, itself edited out before broadcast.

Brahman Temple (left) and Zoroaster Temple buttes overlook the Colorado River, Grand Canyon, 1995.

This is one of the things people don't see in me and other like individuals. The potential to shine. Instead, the powers that be looks for a piece of paper with a degree printed on it, along with the sparkling personality which would have enhanced the delivery of the message.

Something like this has occurred already. Back in 1990, I offered to write an article for my former church elder. When the elder received it, he read it and looking surprised, asked,

Frank, did you really write this?

Yes, yes, I wrote it. You thought I was illiterate, didn't you?

(Implied) Illiterate? No, not necessarily. But window cleaners are supposed never to have shone at school, else you would have had a far more respectable career.

A few years later, I offered to write an article about church members helping the unemployed find work. After interviewing the person involved, to collect enough material for composition, I arrived home and started writing. The person I submitted the article to was somewhat flabbergasted! Window cleaners are not supposed to have produced such written work. According to our British culture, such labourers are supposed to be dim. A week later, I believe, the article appeared in a local newspaper, one of quite a number of articles I have written and were published.

I am amazed at the attitude of Paul the apostle. Had he been around in my lifetime, he would have taken me by the scruff of the neck, rebuked my pessimism (inherited from my Dad) and would have told me that God has given everything I needed, so get writing! Because in his first letter to the church in Corinth, he wrote:

I will destroy the wisdom of the wise; the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate. Isaiah 29:14, 1 Corinthians 1:18-31.

I thank and praise my Saviour that he has given me enough enlightenment to glorify him. And that is what I wish to do, glorify God. Paul has also written in his same letter that we as believers are all members of the body of Christ. (1 Corinthians 12). Within this chapter, he emphasises that the parts which are weaker in the body are treated with greater modesty and respect, a direct rebuke to the British obsession with social class.

Am I ashamed of my job as a window cleaner? Do I view my work as "a terrible job?" No not at all.

 
At the time of this writing, I have been earning a living cleaning windows for the last 32 years. As one who is self employed, cleaning windows comes with responsibility, including that of ensuring that all expenses are met, we are able to eat and stay clothed, keep a roof over our heads, as well as being accountable to the taxman. And if God permits, enjoy some travel too. Sure, my line of work has collected some teasing, like "an up-and-down job" (in referring to the ladders used) and even ridiculous titles, like "Vision Technician" - thought up by the middle classes as a vain attempt to grant us greater respect.

Paul wrote that whatever we do, do for the glory of God (1 Corinthians 10:31.)

Now that is something for Simon Reeve to ponder on.