A Quivering Wreck

I was giving my last lecture to the trainee teachers today. I’m very pleased with the course. It’s not often that a PhD student would be told to invent a postgraduate-level course on topics of their own choosing and teach it without any supervision or input from superiors. I think some of my classes were fairly samey and the course wasn’t as practical as it could be, but I got the students talking every week and often left the classroom totally buzzing.

My final lecture was called “The Teenage Body” because I’m Connor. It was perfectly sensible. It looked at the different changes teenagers make to their bodies, and the impacts that their bodies can have on their identities. I looked at Foucault on “Docile Bodies” and we talked about the social and cultural production of bodies and schools’ and teachers’ roles in this. We also looked that the lyrics of One Direction’s Little Things and asked what it has to say about girls’ bodies. We had a lively debate about it.

As the lecture was ending, one of the older students complained that she had never heard Little Things and asked if I would play it. I went online and played it.

In the last five minutes of my lecture, as One Direction’s mushiest song played in the lecture theatre, I nearly got a fit of the giggles. Sometimes I really am a satire of myself. There I stand in Ireland’s snootiest university and inflict the cheesiest song by the tweeniest boyband on a group of secondary school teachers of maths, chemistry and accounting.

My rational brain doesn’t like the song. My heart and my guts love it though. At one stage in the video, Zayn Malik looks straight down the camera and says “I’m in love with you” directly to me. And I turn to a quivering wreck every time he does.

I’m also a quivering wreck about Friday. It’s Good Friday. And I am, once again, scheduled to meet with the Man from the Internet. This is the third time we’ve set a date. This time we’re meeting for coffee in town, and not necessarily for “a session”, which does take the pressure off. A bit.

Hopefully, this Good Friday will be a Very Good Friday and I’ll get this monkey off my back.

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