BlackBoyWhiteSchool

Black BOY White SCHOOL I could never be described as much of a football fan. However, it is important to understand that if I happen to be in front of a television while Arsenal are playing, absolutely everything else in the world pales into abject insignificance, and the neighbours have been known to complain about the screaming - whether in ecstasy or exasperation (even if I can’t name anyone in the squad since Henry, Seaman and Anelka). #WengerOUT Since being here though, I’ve found it somewhat challenging to find common ground with some of the older boys as, at times, it feels like our life experiences are galaxies apart. I prefer to use football, as their attempts to find common ground with me, “innocent” as they may have been, were centred around one question - “Mr. Rivers, you see how you’re from London yeah, do you know Big Shaq fam ?” (Yes. Fam was actually said). So football has become the “go to” for conversation starters. I diligently check the weekend ...

Black BOY White SCHOOL So the other day, I had the glorious pleasure of working with a year four child who has a range of emotional and attachment issues (some of which I believe are slightly exaggerated) nevertheless, the intervention continued. I walked into the room and, between her and a buddy, she’d set up a community of plasticine figurines, including a baby in a pram, and a voluptuous woman with an exaggerated chest area - apparently created with the assistance of another member of staff in yesterday’s session - we’ll leave that for another post! Joining the table, I positioned my chair between the two young girls and remarked on their creation - something along the lines of how interesting it was, and further, on what they’d had for lunch. The conversation turned towards who was to blame for a lost wheel on the pram (which apparently required a re-vamp). Willing to take some responsibility for the missing wheel, the witty friend responded to questioning by singing the l...