A helping hand from 16 year-old me
And why standing up will lead to bigger things.
I won’t be here by the time the new school is built but, looking at these plans, I’d be happy to stay and use the state-of-the-art facilities.
I personally look at this plan and think it’s perfect. We have to stop talking about where we’re putting the academy and start thinking about what will be done there.
I umm’d and ah’d for two weeks over whether or not to speak at Manchester’s November TED Talk discussion group.
The decision to eventually email back with a yes took time and a couple of whiskeys. But in all honesty I’d convinced myself a few days earlier.
It was while I was alone in my flat, pondering how I’d manage to get up in front of a big group of strangers and deliver a talk of value. I thought about what I’d say, how I’d move around the stage, whether I’d use slides behind me or just rely on the words which would tumble out of my mouth.
I thought about if I had the confidence to do it all. And if I was up to the challenge.
My brain responded:
Erm, yeah, idiot. Remember when you stood up in front of over 100 pissed off adults and said exactly what they didn’t want to hear from a 16 year-old?
Oh, yeah. I remember that. Good times.
See, I was once Head Boy of Furness Academy South. We had two sites at the time, waiting for a new building that would bring everyone from three schools together.
That plan wasn’t popular in my little hometown. People didn’t want to see three below average schools combined as one academy. People didn’t want to see change.
Personally, I was fine with it all. But when I attended a consultation on the location of the new school — which at this stage was happening regardless of who didn’t like the idea — I got to see first-hand some pure Barrovian anger.
At one point, for reasons I still to this day do not understand, the large audience shifted discussion away from academy location and on to if netball would be on the new PE curriculum.
That curriculum was three years away from being planned and written.
So I put my damn hand up.
Mrs Robinson looked at me. I looked at her. She glared at my Principal and gestured at him to select me to speak next.
Elliot, go ahead.
Everyone stared at me. I remember my knees shaking a bit.
I won’t be here by the time the new school is built but…
A grown man tried to interrupt halfway through; excuse me Sir, I haven’t finished.
Applause from the audience. It fractured all of the anger hanging in the air. Mission accomplished.
I wrapped it up.
I personally look at this plan and think it’s perfect…
After the session was over, I spoke to BBC Cumbria and our local newspaper. Not bad for a spur-of-the-moment decision to stand up and talk.
In the silence of my flat, I reasoned: if I could speak my mind in front of 100 angry adults and come out unscathed, what have I got to be afraid of?
