Just pleasantly floundering around.....

I honestly think that judgement never helps anyone and yet I hear it all the time. I hear people say things like:  “Well she just tries too hard.”  “You know him, he's useless, he can’t plan anything.”  “She’s rubbish at communicating what she means.”  “He’s a bad parent.”  “Well what do you expect from people like that?”  “She's so vain."  “They spoil their kids.”  ‘You don’t like golf do you?’ I think judgement sometimes comes out of not valuing difference and diversity. Of course we understand the way we do things ourselves, we understand (and are tuned into) our own values, our own lifestyle choices, our own preferences. And of course, we are very likely to believe that our own choices are right, which can therefore mean we might believe any choice that is not the same as our own, is possibly wrong -especially if all this judgement is coming straight from our subconscious. We all have different talents, values and motivations. This needs to be celebrated - not ...

Whenever I have spoken to anyone about blogs, the issue of 'theme' always comes up. It is always implied that for a blog to do well, it needs to have a clear and unique theme. I am really not sure if my blog has an emerging theme unless it's something like 'random utterances from a fluid brain wiring' or 'creative amateur psychology with lighthearted breaks.' Any suggestions? However, if I were to have a theme I might: • Get a photo of a stranger smiling – one per day – try and find out what made him or her smile • Take a newspaper headline a day and write my own version of the story e.g. an optimistic, fairytale, alien, historical, meticulous detail, etc version • Get the responses from a variety of strangers to the same question – one a day e.g. what could you never live without or if you ran a shop, what would it sell, if you had to eat one food all day, what would you choose? • A photo and/or description of a different room a day e.g. people’s houses, sh...

As is deemed good practice, after any training session, I dish out evaluations for participants to complete. Over the years, the feedback I have received has not so much informed my practice - only twice has feedback meant that I changed how I did something - but taught me about human nature. From years of completed evaluations handed to me I have learnt: 1) Some people are optimistic and some are pessimistic. Some people expressive, some reserved. Whatever the session, the way the evaluation is completed usually tells me more about the person that filled it in than the training I delivered. 2) It would be hard to deliver the perfect session for everyone because people are so diverse. One person's favourite part of the day will be another's least favourite. 3) I never assume I have read a person's body language correctly. Many times people have sat stoney-faced with their arms folded and never made a contribution to any discussion only to go on to write the most positive an...

This is the spectrum I work with.......where ever I go, whatever the group...I coax them right... That's my SRE training in a nutshell.

Apparently 70% of the British public want the death penalty to return. I find this statistic remarkable. It's like a return to medieval times! Do people really want it? A colleague at work recently handed me the autobiography of a prisoner who is serving a life sentence. She regularly works with prisoners and wondered if I could edit his story for him - which I did - despite the fact it was pretty well written already. My colleague does not know the reason for his detention and states she never wants to know this detail about any prisoner she works with as it means she's not even tempted to judge and she can take them on face value. The prisoner's story was harrowing. He was abused from birth by his parents (cigarette burns and mutilations), and at the age of two, taken into care for more physical abuse, ridicule and sexual abuse (this was the early seventies). His childhood to the age of eight was absent of any love, guidance or even positive communication. After I had fi...

With a job that is basically about persuading schools to teach sex ed, it probably does not surprise you to hear I have to have to wade through no end of innuendo, double entendres and funny euphemisms when training people. It's OK, I've become quite good at graciously pretending that I am hearing something for the first time. However, occasionally I am lucky enough to collect a gem of a true story. Like this one told to me by a male teacher (a story, he said, the parent in it, had told him)...... An eight year old girl approached her mum and asked, 'Mum what does 'ejaculate' mean?' This was a mother who had sworn to herself that she would always answer her children's questions - whatever they were - openly and honestly. So she took a deep breath and, with the help of pen and paper, proceeded to explain what this term meant in great detail. The eight year old listened attentively. At the end of the description, the mother put down her pencil and enquired, ...

I have a friend called Chris who could not be a better play buddy for me! We have our own wavelength. He's an unusual chap in many ways and very confident about not being mainstream (He lives in a wood). I suspect he will pop up on my blog several times as we have had so much fun together. A couple of Christmases ago, Chris bought two empty advent calendars well in advance of December. I had one, he had the other and the idea was, we both filled the twenty four (approximately one cube inch) boxes for each other to open - as you would an advent calendar. There was a paper-people chain (that went on and on), trick sweets, a treasure hunt start clue (that lead to a box of chocolates), a squashed up sponge person, a ‘keep off the grass sign’ on a lawn, a decision dice, many things I cannot remember now - even though we scored each day's offering out of ten. However, the single best box in both calendars was one Chris did for me: a box jammed full with twelve, one pound coins with t...

Last night I was lucky enough to pop in on the launch of Adrian Ramsay’s (Green Party) election campaign at Dragon Hall, Norwich – not because I was invited but because my fellar was playing music there. In the short time I was there I met two chaps from the Cambridge Vegan Society – one was chatty, friendly, upbeat and ‘connecting’, the other a little more distant and less engaging. When I did speak to the second man, he started lecturing me about meat consumption’s carbon footprint, the need to act now (‘it’s too late to take small measures’) and the need to think of our children’s future (pointing at my children). He was preaching to a semi-converted person but he managed to get my heckles up with his slightly forceful tone. Which set me off thinking about behaviour change and how you could get people to ‘go green’? I know the hard facts alone do not work as this chap illustrated. In fact too many hard, fast and tragic facts seem to make people fatalistic. i.e. if it’s all gloom and...

My dad died about a year and a half ago. There's much I could write about this but today I am focusing on funeral arrangements! Before he died, he made it known to us who his solicitor was and that she held information about the funeral. I realise, in my not-quite-functioning-normally head at the time that I thought this meant he had outlined details about what he wanted his funeral to be like. It turned out, all the solicitor had was 'cremation'. I remember feeling a little disappointed at the time. We made the arrangements for his funeral in a way that we partially thought he'd like but also with a clear idea of what we did not want: we had it outside amongst the pink rhododendrons, he was in a willow coffin, a silver hearse, the coffin bearers in ordinary suits, my mum, my sister, me and my brother all spoke (or had our words read by the humanist funeral chap). My brother's new-ish girlfriend by virtue of the fact she is Spanish, was asked to read some words a S...

One day he'll go to a real hairdresser and they will ask (like they do), 'who HAVE you been letting cut your hair?' It's a good job he's not vain.

For the last three years now, my husband has been lucky enough to have had an advent calendar made personally for him by me. This year is no exception and this is what it looks like on the outside (my best child-like art style): However on the inside he will find an unusual mixture of things. (And in the unlikeliness of you reading this, Andy, avert your eyes now or risk spoiling the surprises) For example: • Single sock speed-dating • A triffoloop (a strange looking creature) • A ratty donkey • An alien hatching pod • Dragon dribble • A man with an asteroid for a head • A collapsed tepee • A bronze bust of Toyah Willcox • A waxy cotton bud • His name written in urine in the snow • Womble poo • A flurry of punctuation • A teapot graveyard • A lady in red • Etc – I can’t remember any more – so I will have to wait with excited anticipation alongside my husband. He must feel so loved.

I think I might possibly be the most away-with-the-fairies person that I think I know. My head is rarely in the moment (unless I am doing yoga) and I have an incredible capacity to not notice things - really NOT notice things in a way that people are shocked when they recount a description of something, someone, some place or the huge lorry blocking the road that I should have seen and nothing registers with me. Or when I turn up to work with clothes on inside out and/or back to front or the time I arrived at school aged 15 with odd shoes on. Also, as a child I just could not hear stories. I was amazed when I realised others could and did. I never got beyond the first two sentences before my head was off in Wandering-wonderingsville. I still struggle a bit with the radio - but people don't believe me when I say that. Now that my eyesight is getting a little long with age, I think the complete package makes me seem very special needs (forgive my dark side please). I am definitely on...

A pondering that has welled up inside me recently..... Does anyone EVER get good careers advice? All I remember was filling in a questionnaire at school when I was about 15 and the result produced that told me I should work for the Forestry Commission. Everyone that ticked the 'wouldn't mind working outside' box got that answer. I think it was of no use whatsoever. I also know that I have only ever known about a tiny fraction of the jobs that exist out there. I knew about doctors, teachers, police, nurses, vets, train drivers, air traffic controllers (only because my dad was one), pilots (we lived near Gatwick) and shopkeepers and that was about it. I might have done something other than teaching, if something else had been suggested to me. Mind you, I have never seen 'Sex and Relationships Education Development Worker' on a list of careers and that's what I am now. I also wonder whether it's good to train in something vocational early on (so you always have...

I took my son to 'hostipol' today for a small operation on his hand (sorting a trigger thumb). It is always weird to be a temporary visitor of those large, well-oiled (if not a little erratically maintained) places that are the coalface of hardcore health! You go to hospital to have babies, to watch people die and to hope to be mended - I guess they are bound to stir up some kind of emotion in everyone. My son's right hand is fixed now, but it currently looks like he's about to go in a boxing ring...bless him!

I love painting cards when I get the odd moment and I love experimenting with designs. However, clearly, I'm not very good at experimenting with colour. It's not that I don't like the red, orange yellow end of the spectrum, it's that I LOVE the purple, blue and green end and just can seem to break out!

I visited a school in south Norfolk about a month ago that the staff said (quite casually) was haunted by a headteacher that was raped and murdered in the bungalow next door in the 80s. Apparently the perpetrator was due to be released and paranormal activity had stepped up a gear in recent weeks. This had included the sound of someone pacing up and down, doors banging and keys turning round and round in locks. And - yes - the hairs on the back of my neck did stand up on end as we sat in what had been that headteacher's office. So I returned to my office and recounted the tale to some colleagues. All I can say, is I have been surprised by how many people have a story of the paranormal. One colleague embarked upon a monologue about his childhood home. There were regular goings-on: strange shadows, baby crying noises and levitations. So much so that when he was offered the house later in life (for a bargain price) he declined. Another colleague started his story with 'I really do...

For a couple of months now I have been scattering home-made top trump cards, around Norwich, mostly around 'the Lanes'. I am not sure what I am trying to achieve but it certainly appeals to some sense of mischief and who knows - one day they might become as well known as the puppet man! There are more than 160 different cards to collect if anyone is!

It's an order....

I am reading a book about neuro linguistic programming. So far there have been two ideas that have captivated my conceptual imagination. The first is the idea that people can be motivated towards and motivated away from things. For example, a person can want to lose weight because they hate the way they look or because they want to be a picture of vibrant health. The former is motivation away, the latter motivation towards. Of course this can be applied to many things. A person might hate the job they do and be desperate to leave it (motivation away) or a person can apply for a job because it ticks all their boxes (motivation towards). Motivation towards is, of course, better than motivation away. To be motivated towards something means we have to have a vision, an aspiration, a clear idea of what we definitely want. What's more, it's easier to find sustained motivation towards an arrival point as we remain motivated until we get there - especially if we are excited about the...

I woke up this morning all fired up, with a huge list of things I was determined to get done. However, I did only one of the things on my list and several other things that I had not planned to do at all (including collecting 65 medium sized pebbles off a beach - part of a plan I have already abandoned!) Getting distracted is my forte. And this is a debate I have with myself all the time. Would it be better to be a person that makes plans and sticks to them or is it OK to be a person that makes plans and writes lists but then ignores the plans and never finds the list again? Don't get me wrong, I get things done with scarily bullish determination sometimes - but whatever it is is the result of a whim, never a long term plan! Flexibility versus determination. Focus versus expansion. Direct route or wandering aound! It's a hard call! P.S. The one thing I did that was on my first-thing-this-morning plan was line some huge velvet curtains. This is something I never planned to be ab...

Having spent a few years now dragging small children around the countryside (they WILL enjoy it), we realise we have quite an extensive list of short, mostly circular, mostly off-road walks in Norfolk. In no particular order: • Earthwork circle at Warham near wells - atmospheric • Wolterton Hall - feels spacious, nice walk round the lake • The network of footpaths around Saxlingham Nethergate (derelict church adds atmosphere) • Castle Acre – steep! • The network of footpaths around Shotesham –very open • Hockering Wood - better than Foxley Wood for bluebells, great small leafed lime trees (lloks like a wood you would find Little Red Riding Hood in) and have never met another person there! • Whitlingham – woods and broad • The Roman Villa – Caister – handy for Norwich and good for blowing the cobwebs away on a windy day! • Foxley Wood – especially when all the bluebells are out • Ashwelthorpe Wood – small but pretty • Surlingham Broad – there are lots of walks along this bit of the Yare...

Charter for Compassion

Emotional literacy = awareness and appropriate management of your emotions (including difficult ones) Emotional literacy did not exist as a term - let alone a concept - when I was a child and it is apparent that the SEAL curriculum (social and emotional aspects of learning - a curriculum funded by the government) in schools has taught a lot of teachers some basic tools of emotional literacy alongside the children. Those that have bought into it and don't say things like, 'isn't this all just too much navel gazing?' and 'kids just need to toughen up' that is. (Yes being hit, never listened to and having orders regularly shouted at me did wonders for my resilience). The idea that emotions are emotions and you can't stop (and shouldn't stop) yourself from feeling them but that you do have a choice about how you behave in response to what you are feeling is a simple but extremely helpful concept! SEAL also helps children to identify different emotions and l...

My brother once had a poo poem in his toilet. I could only remember the first line of his but I used it to start mine. It's his concept I nicked. He's got bags of great concept. What an honour: to be the inspiration of poo poem II. Poo Poem   Big ones, little ones, ones that wedge in the loo Squidgy ones, firm ones, Ones that smell like a zoo Deep brown, light brown Ones that take time to come 'One wipe and go' ones  Ones that smudge your bum Sweetcorn ones, carrot ones Ones that stick to the bowl Jolly bad hangover ones that squit out from your hole Regular ones, strained ones Ones that need a nice smelling spray: the ones propelled by wind - that mean you won't want to stay Morning ones, evening ones, ones you do around noon Ones that make little skid marks - the ones that come too soon Quiet ones, noisy ones, Unashamed ones done in the boys Discreet ones done by ladies Toddlers’ ones that double as toys Floating ones, sinking ones Ones do...

I first encountered the idea of having a secret best friend at Green Man Camp in Tuttington, Norfolk. Shortly after arriving, everyone pulled out the name of the person at the camp that they were to anonymously 'spoil' all week. Not being one to do this kind of thing by halves, my secret best friend was treated to: • A poo poem (see next blog) • A set of creative tasks to complete • A story –Sharon and the seven hippies • A green man mask • A ‘wanted poster’ publicly displayed and outlining his crimes • A thought-sorter with instructions (turn the handle and it sorts your thoughts) • A strangely decorated book mark – he was reading when I first found out who he was • A beer My SBF also happened to be a pretty great bloke called Papa Bear and all gifts were received as intended. I extended this idea last year to replace the usual secret Santa at work - that for me - is always an anti-climax. For one week very close to Christmas, our team of seven, anonymously sent hot drinks, t...

What a funny idea - me writing a blog about housekeeping. As you know, I'm all pinnies, Ajax and rubber gloves. I am actually referring to that boring bit at the beginning of a conference or training day where you tell people where the toilets are, what the lunch arrangements are, what to do in case of a fire (and if there are any drills planned) and where to go and have a cigarette if you smoke. Yawn, yawn yawn. To be honest, wouldn't it be ever-so-slightly more interesting just to let people find out for themselves. Well today, I made a few lame jokes along the lines of 'if there's a fire - get out , if you need to smoke get out' . Ha, ha, ha. Rip roaring. But if my more sensible colleagues had not been present (my adjective 'pile of poo' got a frown today), I would love to really spice things up: Dressed in a blue and white hostess outfit with long white gloves, a white paper hat secured with several kirby grips and a mouth painted with bright red lipstic...

For my 40th birthday I had a 1 p.m. to accidentally 3 a.m. barbecue. It started very civilised and ended with us dragging an 18 year old lad off the street and persuading him not to join the army. (A celebration is never complete - I find - unless a stranger has been made to participate). Always being one to feel like I need to provide entertainment, I produced a treasure hunt for the children and a photo scavenger hunt for anyone. A map illustrated the route on which the scavenger hunt was to be completed. I need to clarify - I didn't make anyone do the scavenger hunt, it was optional and a few glass-starts of beer in (I kept losing them), I had forgotten all about it. However, two teams did eventually stumble across the instructions and participated. These are the photos they were asked to scavenge: A photo .. • with all ‘team’ members’ heads and a chimney in the picture • that is a picture for an advert – doesn’t matter what you’re advertising • of a picture of a fish made by th...

Today I met, for the second time, one of the many crazy headteachers in the world. Of course you have to be a little mad to undertake a job of such scope, with ridiculous stress levels and little thanks, but most masquerade as reasonably sane. Me - I love the overtly mad ones. This particular character looks like a cross between Barry Manilow and Willy Wonker. He said many randomly bizarre things but my favourite of all he said today was: "The animal kingdom have got a lot right - I mean they are not destroying the planet in the way we are, but you have to ask - do they do music like us humans do? When animals are making their music, it's either to say get away from my territory or come over to my place - if you know what I mean. I am a big fan of music - human music that is." Long may he be in charge of impressionable little minds.

There is a place in Norfolk called Fustyweed http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?hl=en&tab=wl Officially, it's just a hamlet........ A terrace of five small houses sit some distance back from the only road. Smoke from the five little chimneys zigz zags into the sky. The doors and window frames are haphazardly painted orange, purple, red and green. The front gardens are brimming with stunningly beautiful flowers: mostly noddydil, fraf and craggleweed. Silver and gold fluttifol buzz around them collecting gliff to make their glittery crunnyplop (which is sold in jars from a table at the roadside). All of the houses are kept perfectly maintained with the exception of number four. Minky Flupp who lives there says she spends far too much time granting wishes to bother with keeping her house shipshape. Her neighbours don't mind, as long as she grants them a wish now and then. Jiggy Paloozeville at number three keeps yickins. The yickins lay the most delicious eggs with a yoke so deeply...

I received and e mail from ancestry.co.uk suggesting a Charles Harvey Potter 23rd March 1931 - 8th May 2008 might be linked to my family tree. I have researched my genealogy and have drawn up quite an extensive family tree and I think I might have struggled had I failed to identify my own father! Still I guess he's well and truly and ancestor now!

What would be the best compliment a friend could pay you? (I explore this as a lighthearted activity with adults). If you can't think of anything - which of the following would you most like to hear someone say to you. You are kind You are witty I always enjoy being with you You are good at art You always cheer me up You are easy to talk to You have a great imagination You are really helpful You are a stylish dresser You are really interesting You are a very unusual person Your advice is always great You are generous You are good at writing Everyone likes you You are so clever What I have learnt from doing this activity: 1) It's funny because this is truly different for every person. 2) Some people, really, really cannot receive compliments. It's linked to very poor self esteem. 3)Most of us appear to like to be complimented about things we already feel truly proud of because it means someone has noticed a quality we allow ourselves to believe we genuinely possess. Also, if...

One of my favourite photos. Kids are great aren't they! P.S We didn't really compost him.

Some schools in Norfolk (and the police!!) are training their staff in restorative practice. What this means is that professionals are enabled to mediate and solve disagreements by finding a solution that is palatable to all parties in any conflict situation. Needless to say, this involves a whole load of communication. This seems like a massive shift in fundamental philosophy from when I was at school - when anything that rattled the status quo was challenged by automatically dishing out a punishment. (The conflict being identified as a pupil not doing what the teacher said s/he must do). Now being the hippie I am, I completely approve of restorative practice! Unfortunately, however, attitudinal changes like this don't happen overnight or pervade the whole of society! I have had debates with many people about which works better - the consequence of a punishment to clearly show something is wrong or time dedicated to listening to all parties to attain understanding and the best way...

We're looking to move...nightmare stuff! Don't ask me about it! We might get there one day but this viewing didn't help...... Recently we went to look at a house that seemed like quite a bargain. I met a neighbour on the way in who informed us that the old man who had lived there had died. That wouldn't bother me. She also wished me good luck (which seemed a slightly odd thing to say!) Upon entering, a terrible smell hit us but it was covered up a bit by a lot of mustiness. The estate agent rushed to open the back door to let some air in. Looking into the first room it was instantly apparent that the estate agent was showing us around before the house clearance had removed everything (which seems a little eager on the estate agent's part) but sader still, the house looked as if the owner had just popped out. His gardening shoes were parked by the back door, his glasses were on his bedside table and there was some washing up still in the sink...with some pretty manky...

My job is basically helping schools to develop PSHE (personal, social and health education) but I orignally just focused on SRE (sex and relationship education). I have learnt heaps doing this job. I have not been so interested in the factual knowledge I have acquired but more about people's attitudes and reactions to anything relating to sex. I find it bizarre to think that here we are in the 21st century and most of us are still uncomfortable talking about sex (or come to that, body parts). In fact I think we are getting worse - the 80s threw up HIV and people felt they had to tackle that. Now people seem to want to avoid it all again! We seem to have two (possibly three)approaches to sex in this country: the first is that of absolute repression - don't mention it AT ALL - it's filthy! But many people can suddenly convert to the second approach within seconds with the right trigger: carry on smutting (not a word I know) which is about excessive giggling at any hint of su...

I met a young woman at a hippie camp I went to this summer. I bumped into her again a few weeks later. A couple of days after that, she sent me a CD of her quirky music and a letter explaining that she thought I was cool and would like us to be friends. (Yes it happens to me ALL the time). In response to this I sent her a Molly Potter friendship application form via my PA who also happens to be called Molly Potter and lives inside my body. OK so the friendship application form had questions on it like what colour would you have grass be if it wasn't green, give this monster a name, what is your fairy name etc (in fact this has continued and she has since returned the form (wonderfully filled in, with an imaginative CV accompanying it), I have set her a treasure hunt to find the friendship codeword (S-P-E-C-T-A-C-U-L-A-R) using a local shopping centre and including one clue that meant she had to walk into an estate agents and declare she wanted to buy a house for £50, set her some m...

There's that well-known saying that you remember 10% of what you hear, 30 % (or so!) of what you see but 90% of what you do. So that got me to thinking. What DO I actually remember from my primary education. By that I mean in the actual lessons. (There's a whole heap of stuff I remember about being mischievous and getting into trouble but that would take too much time to report!!!) OK My first ever class I remember I copied Allison Charman because I didn't understand what I was meant to do and the teacher made us both do it all again. This was somewhat tough on poor Allison. It was something to do with the alphabet but the lasting impression was being caught for copying. I guess that doesn't count as a meaningful learning experience. The second class. I remember singing. The class next door came in and sat on our desks and we sang. I mostly remember our jokes about sniffing the table after the other class had left and making jokes about their smelly bottoms. I don't...

I was outside a supermarket parking my bike when I received a full frontal blast of cigarette smoke from someone having a fag break. Strange but it took me straight back to fun times in the pub a few years ago. They say smell is the sense most strongly linked to memory but with it being a rare thing to smell these days, it's funny to think that such a choking smell will cause people to reminisce!!!!

Have you heard the story (I can't remember who originally told it) which starts with a man sitting on a bench on a gorgeous sunny day in a beautiful park. He sits and laps up the rays until a huge bloke comes along and stands in from of him, blocking the sun from his face. The man shuffles along the bench to get out of the man's shadow but as he does the large man moves along to block his sun again. This carries on until eventually the man trying to enjoy the sun starts to get angry: "Why are you doing this? Stop it." But instead of the large fellar leaving him to enjoy the sunshine, he continues to cast a shadow over him. When the man looks around, he see many other people sitting on benches with a large person stood nearby in such as way that the sun is blocked. What's more, they are looking at him disapprovingly for making such a fuss. He eventually quietens down and puts up with his lot! Sometimes we conform without questioning too readily. Just because everyo...

Consider.... Imagine you have just walked into a newsagent. You go to the till to pay for your newspaper. The person in front of you is paying for two chocolate bars by counting out a load of small change. They also have a ten pound note in their hand. Their coins fall short of the full price by 1p. They turn to you. You have 1p. So there is a need - albeit a very slight one. NoW don't consider whether you would or would not help the person...that's another activity. Whom from the following list do you think you would most instinctively want to help? • A businessman in a suit • A scruffy alternative looking young female • A person with very poor English • A woman with several children Have you thought? You see the funny thing is...even with this little amount of information, most of us can make some assumptions about these people. We have hardwiring that makes us unconsciously assume things about people based on whatever (however little) we know about them. What are we like! Th...

I recently went to London to deliver an interactive presentation on Difference and Diversity for the PSHE CPD leads (people leading the national qualification in Personal, Social and Health education) - showcasing activities I use with teachers to help them broach D & D and inclusion issues in school. The bottom line is about helping children and young people to stop seeing difference as alien, strange and 'not like us' and helping them to see diversity as interesting and 'something worth getting to know.' This makes it sound really straightforward - but there are a range of forms of 'anti-diversity' -from blatant discrimination to more subtle forms. This is a tool I have used with teachers to explore the varied forms of anti-diversity. I give them examples from resources and the media and ask them to match up the type of anti-diversity with the example. e.g. "some of my best friends are gay".

On the left - my book 'Outside the Box' by Molly Potter in English...on the right...in Thai. I do wonder how well the concepts travel across the two cultures.