Diary of a Cycling Instructor by Mario López-Goicoechea
The first light takes a bit longer to arrive. When it does it’s bathed in early morning dew, soaking saddles and grips. The working day begins.
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We are each unique and beautiful but together we are a masterpiece”. I’d probably change the “but” for “and”. If you’re going to cover the walls of a school with encouraging slogans, make sure they do inspire.
On the other hand, I worked in another school recently where the word “mistake(s)” appeared on several noticeboards around the building. There was a different approach here. Students were invited to err, reflect and rectify.
This attitude helped me a great deal with getting children’s names right after mispronouncing them far too often.
Old dog. New tricks. (smiles)
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It is easy to spot the schools where cycling is encouraged and those where the staff still depend on cars heavily. The former sport all kinds of two-wheelers in TfL-designed shelters. The latter can barely fit all motorised vehicles in the car park. Another sign is the mood in the staff room. Most cycling-friendly schools have a laid-back air about them. The personnel look relaxed and easy-going. By contrast, in those where cars prevail there’s often an anxiety-heavy atmosphere. The thought of turning up late in the morning because of a traffic jam is too much to bear for some school staff. And yet, they still get behind the wheel day in, day out, even when they live within walking/cycling distance of the school.
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We’re joined by a lot of driving instructors today on the road. Along with the big hitters, AA, Bill Plant and Red, there are also the independent ones: King’s, Kev’s and Kerem’s, giving us an early morning, four-wheel-powered alliteration.
We share the same space on the road but we all know the balance has been tilted. No longer is a bicycle seen as an extravagance or oddity. With more climate change awareness, gas-guzzling motor vehicles are having to rein themselves in. 20mph-speed-limit roads, segregated cycle lanes, and pedestrian-/cycling-friendly, modern urban designs point at a much-needed change of mind.
We do acknowledge each other, though. A quick wave, nod or smile is enough to render us equal to one another on an almost deserted north London street.
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It’s the third school in a row where I’ve seen chickens and hens. The clucking can be distracting at times and yet it’s beautiful all the same.
Something tells me that there’s a subliminal message here. An undercover, pro-animal group that’s seeking to promote the welfare of our Earth-sharing relatives. I’m all for it. I believe that children should be given the chance to care for another being, at least temporarily. It’s one way to embed empathy in the next generation.
Of course, by the time lunch time rolls around and I’m served chicken curry, I forget about the fowl in cages. The one question I will never ask is… were any of those winged creatures out there in pens involved in the production of this meal?