New energy

It's only when Cape Town gets its vicious wind that I remember just how much it freaks me out. Especially at night. Right now, that kind of wind is blowing, carrying the threat of a storm so big, the radio stations have been broadcasting warnings for at least two days.

And life goes on. 

I returned to school last Wednesday, after our 13-day school holiday. I must admit, the day before school reopened, I felt like I'd achieved nothing in the 13 days, which was ridiculous for many reasons. Not only had I done a lot of crocheting - for our craft group's current project - but I'd also spent days doing schoolwork, in preparation for the term ahead. What I hadn't realised, until I actually got to school and started the new term, was that I had undergone a significant change. It's not visible to anyone, but I feel it strongly. 

Without going into too much detail, I'll just say that the first term of this year was challenging for me. But it turned out to be yet another example of life teaching me, as it's done so many times before, that some lessons can only be learnt the hard way. Every day of my holiday, I spent time journalling: I used the time to process my emotions that seemed to be all over the place, to methodically plan how I could avoid a repeat of the first term, and to find my centre again. By the time I went to bed, the night before school reopened, I was 100% ready, and quite excited about going back. Bear in mind that this is the most stability I've had, job-wise, since my retrenchment from a private-sector job in 2021. Returning to school, to start the second of four terms, was a big deal. I got into bed feeling ready, excited and sleepy,

But, as tired as I was, I could not fall asleep.  I used to have that kind of experience often, in my 20s. And it usually coincided with the Full Moon! I've since heard about many others who experience the same thing. I lay awake, I tossed and turned, I meditated, I did Mind Power exercises, I did a visualisation exercise, but sleep would not come. The last time I looked at the clock was 02h30. I knew that when my alarm went off, the next morning at 05h15, I'd feel inside out. And I did. And that's how I went to school - prepared for all my lessons, as well as an after-school meeting, but oh so inside out. By 5pm, I could hardly keep my eyes open. 

What's really cool is that I realised, over the past three days at school, that I had in fact gone back with my balance restored. I had learnt the lessons I was meant to, I had reminded myself who I was and what I was capable of, and I felt a new spring in my step. Thank you, Universe, for the lessons learnt. 

I haven't done much in the line of music, for a while, because of the demands of my teaching job. There's no sugar-coating it - it's a highly stressful job that consumes your private time as well. Very different to my part-time adult education job and worlds away from my job in the corporate sector. Most days, I come home from school, relax for an hour, then start my next shift of schoolwork. I often sit up working till almost midnight. It's insane. I'm figuring out ways to be more efficient and to give myself space to do more of my Trudy things, like playing music, dancing and crafting.

Tomorrow our craft group, Knit & Natter, has its April meeting. I missed last month's one, because I was marking assessments, and I needed to minimise distractions. Anyway, I'm going to tomorrow's gathering. We split into groups and are busy making blankets to donate to the annual "67 Blankets for Mandela" campaign. I'm happy to say that thousands of hand-made blankets are donated to the needy, through this campaign, which now has international reach. I've made quite a few blankets on my own, but quite enjoy the collaborative approach, as well. I'm focussing on blues and greens, this time, which makes me very happy. Unlike the blankets I've made on my own, this one consists of squares, which will be stitched together. Tomorrow I'm learning the special technique of stitching squares together so that the stitching forms a decorative feature of the blanket. Cool!

                        One of the granny squares I've made for my group blanket.

I'd really like to teach kids at our school to crochet and create functional items, but time is so limited. Intervals are short, and there are already so many other activities going on. It would best happen after school, but that creates transport problems, as many of the kids travel by chartered buses.  Maybe I should check it out - see who'd be prepared to stay one afternoon after school per week, to learn to knit and crochet. Even if it's a small group, it could spark further interest. Yep, I'll give it a try. Wish me luck!

It's not even 10pm and I'm feeling very sleepy! I had a lovely day. 

That's such a good feeling.  

Tripped-switch reflections

The past day has pulled me right out of the peaceful space I try so hard, on a daily basis, to inhabit.

Despite the flowery words of our President in his latest State of the Nation Address (SONA), loadshedding not only continued, but was ramped up significantly the very next day! Yesterday, our area had loadshedding from 2pm, which meant we could reasonably expect to be using electricity again at about 4pm.  But 4pm came, 4:40pm came, 5pm came, and still no electricity. Accustomed to having NO faith in the powers that be, I deduced that the period had been extended to 4 hours. However, at about 6:20pm, I noticed that the street lights were on, so I called a neighbour to ask if she knew why our house lights were still off. It turned out, it was just my house - everyone else in the street had had their electricity back on since 4pm! 

I elicited the help of two other neighbours, and eventually reported the breakdown to the municipality. They logged my call, sent me a reference number, then confirmed that it had been assigned to a work team, and that it would be attended to within 24 hours. They indicated that the team might come out at night, too. Of course, I hoped they would, but they didn't. With my freezer contents safely in one neighbour's freezer and a lamp borrowed from another, I got through the night. Very ill at ease, I might add. This is South Africa - one house in total darkness can make you a target.

By this morning, I knew I wasn't going to make it to school - my first day absent since starting there in August last year - so I let the principal and my two HODs know. It wasn't exactly a morning of rest or productivity, because I had no electricity and I had to keep an eye out for the repair team. Eventually - just after I'd washed my body and hair in cold water - they called me to say they were outside. The house numbers in our road are a bit zigzaggy, so I popped my head outside to show them where my house actually was. Ten minutes later they left, having reset a switch in the electricity box in the street, which had tripped. That was just before midday.

Needless to say, being forced out your comfort zone like that makes you reflect on what it is you need for your daily survival.  In some parts of my life, I stopped setting lofty goals, because life just kept knocking the wind out of my sails. Instead, I save that dreamer part of myself for my creative endeavours, and strive for a baseline of comfort in the rest of my life. That's how much I've changed.  Yes, it's awesome to have nice things, to eat out, to buy new clothes, go to live shows, etc. but when you can't, you simply can't. That's a long story - a combination of choices I made, in my quest to rid myself of abusive people, and the trials that life sends us, in one form or another.  

On a lighter note, I'm preparing for a duo gig at a 5-star hotel. It's far - about one and a half hours away - but it's something I've chosen to say Yes to. I'm working with guitarist Rudy Burns, almost 2 years since we last gigged together. We've had one rehearsal so far and have scheduled our second one. I look forward to the adventure of it all. The music's the easy part. Wish I could stay over, and drive back the next day. 

                           Solo Session 6 - The Masque Theatre foyer. Photo: William Rose.

In true Virgo fashion, I have a written record of my music life since returning to performing, in March 2003. Yes - 21 years now! I was looking at the post-lockdown years, today: I did 29 gigs in 2022, and 17 in 2023. The cool thing is that, of the 17 in 2023, 15 were solo performances. That was a huge and intentional change in my life. No regrets. I'm still learning. 

                    Solo Session 6 - with musician friends who came to the show. Photo: William Rose

You know, if you don't shake things up, in different parts of your life, you stagnate. You don't grow. For those by the means, it's travelling to different countries and experiencing different cultures. For others, it's seeing as many live shows as possible. And for others, it's learning a new skill, or starting a new form of exercise. Wherever I have the freedom to do so, and when I stop getting in my own way, I set goals that take me in a new direction. Even if everything about me looks the same to the onlooker, I know that I'm breaking new ground, and that I'm adding chapters to my story.  

                     Solo Session 7: Seven Sisters Vineyards    Photo: Theresa Smith

 In a phone chat with my son, yesterday, I spoke about my solo sessions in the past tense, and he was alarmed, because he thought I meant I'd put them behind me. What I was actually doing was referring to the ones I'd already done, and how doing them had helped me stretch, as a self-managing musician. 

               Solo Session 7 - with friends, old and new.        Photo: Theresa Smith 

I've posted a few pics taken at some of my 2023 gigs throughout this article. Happy memories indeed. When my energy finally settles (new job), I will return to my solo sessions, armed with a few new songs, as well as the life experience gained since my last one (Aug 23).  

                                              Solo Session 8: Suzie's Coffee Shop

Sometimes, life needs you to put off what makes your soul sing for what pays the bills. Elizabeth Gilbert has a rather crude way of describing the jobs we do outside of our art forms. I won't write it here. I'm a teacher, after all. Heehee!  

Live your truth. 

Peace  

  

Boundaried Healing

Today is a stand-alone day. The past week has been a stand-alone week. On the home front, the past two months have been a stand-alone period. In my professional life, the past four months formed a stand-alone block of time. The entire year before that was a stand-alone period of time, in my working life, with the 6 months of unpaid work (still unresolved!) forming its own bizarre chapter. In fact, my entire life feels like a stand-alone 62-year period of time. On my good days, I lean towards believing in multiple lives, but on my bad days, I'm so glad we have just one life. 

This is my first post for the year, and it is my sincere intention to blog more frequently. We'll see. 

I've been thinking a lot about what my priorities for the year are, and all I can think of is that it is time to focus on healing. I don't think there's a person alive who isn't dealing with the impact of some past experience. I know that I have a tendency, despite my habit of processing things through writing, to fling myself into the next course-correcting chapter without sufficient attention to healing and gaining closure. I end up with a backlog of experiences from which to heal, and, unless I consciously set things in place to start the healing process, that backlog will keep growing. 

What I love about this time of year is that I have space to think more broadly, to step back and look at my life with more objectivity, and to analyse where and how I can proceed with greater clarity and authenticity. With the school year restarting in six days, this is the perfect time to set some plans in place for the year ahead.

So why call it "boundaried healing"?

A pattern I've observed in myself is how easily I go off-course, on my quest to honour myself. Yes, I can look back and find multiple occasions in my adult life where I have honoured myself, where I've left relationships and jobs where there was a clash of values. I can even think of small-group and one-on-one everyday encounters where I've implemented good boundaries, refusing to fall into traps set by manipulative people. But the truth is, my default mode shows the success story of childhood moulding - you know, that idea of bending a tree while it's young. Like many others, I was raised by a mother who prioritised considering others to the point where considering oneself was deemed selfish. Throw in a bit of good-old-fashioned Anglican guilt, and you get automatic compliance out of fear of going to Hell!  

In short, despite my mother showing fierce courage for a woman born in 1930, she could not shake the "nice-people-don't-do-that" legacy she had inherited, so she raised us the same way. As a result, in my adult life, I had to knock my head many times before learning that boundaries were not only healthy, but essential, if you don't want people to keep taking advantage of you.  What I've also noticed is that many people talk the talk, when it comes to boundaries, but have innately manipulative ways of dealing with those around them. With every single person I encounter, I get to a point where I ask myself, "What is his/her WHY?" Once I establish what someone's WHY is, I see the patterns more clearly and start to understand what's happening. I think that each person's WHY is basically the gap or need we're trying to fill. I've even heard people show remarkable clarity as to why they operate the way they do, but the phrasing of it is almost as though they're discussing another person, and not themselves - which is itself an interesting way to talk about one's insecurities.  

So - back to boundaried healing. I know that I have, in recent months, taken decisions that did not honour me and my needs, but that prioritised someone else's agenda. That's not always a bad thing - in fact, it's even admirable, at times. However, when I've stepped back and looked at the messy issues around the decision(s), I've had to admit that there was, at the very least, subtle manipulation, playing on my sense of kindness, justice, and not wanting someone else to be inconvenienced. 

That pattern needs to finally stop. You know why? Not something I learnt as a child, but it's actually okay to say a clear and unequivocal NO! It's not my job to save everyone in the world. If you ask me to do X, and I say No, you can simply ask another person, who might say an enthusiastic Yes. In fact, if we all answered honestly, we'd all be a lot happier, because we'd be living our truths. At age 62, despite having championed living one's truth, I feel like I've wasted a lot of years pandering to the whims of others - being a good girl, smiling despite the inconvenience, and delaying my own journey and progress. That was modelled to me throughout my childhood. People openly admire and compliment those who are martyrs, so that behaviour ends up being perpetuated, because we all want the strokes, don't we? 

But back to the topic. I keep thinking about the analogy of the airplane oxygen masks - in an emergency, you can't help another passenger unless you've secured your own mask. And that's as simple as it is: I can function effectively only when I am taking care of myself. And that, in short, is my focus for 2024. I will be taking care of myself. I will be healing and being extremely boundaried about it. In every part of my life. I will immerse myself in my creative pursuits, because they energise me and bring me joy and fulfillment. They are essential to who I am, and no-one can take them away from me. I've come to see the link between my strong need for independence and people taking advantage of me, using my kindness as a way to advance their own aims.       

I want to briefly mention two more things that are extremely significant to me, for the year ahead. The first may seem like an unusual aspect of being boundaried, but it's definitely part of honouring oneself  and one's gifts: it's not only okay, but extremely practical and handy to turn one's creativity into income-generating pursuits. Here, again, throughout my childhood I'd hear my mom say that she felt bad charging for her singing, because it was a gift from God. (Note how much self-sabotaging happens as a result of trying to follow religious teachings of humility, modesty, etc.) I know someone who makes jewelry - I would never expect her to give me things without charging me. I know someone who's a designer - same story. There are two hobbies that I love immersing myself in, and I have absolutely no qualms about charging for them: my wool crafting and my music. Not that I need to justify my stance, but both require me to spend money and time and pour my creativity into them. I get to decide when I do things without charging, and when I charge. I'm glad to say I've found a happy balance. 

In a sense, the next point relates to the need to earn extra money (from my hobbies), but it's also an entirely separate topic.  My younger child moved out two months ago, to live an independent adult life, something I'd always wanted her to do, but that had to be put on hold because of my employment issues. As I now live alone in a house more suitable for a family, I have taken the practical decision to downsize, which entails moving - after 27 years! I last lived on my own 33 years ago, and am surprised at how I've adjusted to solo living. However, moving house, after so many years, is a VERY BIG issue for me, for 2024. 

And finally: for many years, I've used an A5-sized appointment diary, and I always choose a specific page layout that works perfectly for me. This year, I'm using one I got as a gift, with the same page layout I like. What I love to do, at the beginning of the year, is draw tiny, colourful flowers on every page, with a different flower for each new week. No matter what my deadlines and pressures are, throughout the year, I will always see little flowers when I open my diary. 

It gives me a deep sense of peace and clarity to know that, even when life gives me a blank page, I'll somehow fill it with colour and life.            

Reflecting on 2023: My Music

Despite the craziness of my formal job, from January to June 2023 (it's December, and we haven't been paid YET! See previous post.), I was fortunate to have the desire, stamina and stubbornness to pursue my all-time passion: music. More specifically, to perform my own compositions, written over four decades, to listening audiences, in spaces around Cape Town that were conducive to story-telling. 

SOLO SESSION 6

In Sept 2022, I'd started an intimate concert series, called Solo Sessions. In Jan 2023, I did my 6th one, this time in the foyer of The Masque Theatre, in Muizenberg. Tickets were sold out, and the specifics of the venue taught me that my original model needed to be tweaked - the show worked much better with the audience seated at tables, sipping and nibbling something. It was a memorable event; my cousin, Theresa Smith, was my assistant, and my friend, William Rose, my photographer.    

                                                              Photo: William Rose 

SOLO SESSION 7

Towards the end of February, I bravely tackled my next Solo Session, this time venturing way out of the southern suburbs of Cape Town, to Seven Sisters Vineyards, in Stellenbosch. It is owned by seven sisters, with one of the sisters, Vivian Kleynhans, as CEO. As each venue I explored came with specific requirements, I had to change my tickets prices, to cover my overheads and earn something, as well. With a smaller audience than the previous one, the event was no less enjoyable. The venue was spectacular, and the in-house catering superb! This time, Theresa doubled up as my assistant and my photographer. I love the freshness that different photographers bring to my concert memories.      

                                                                Photo: Theresa Smith 

SOLO SESSION 8

After my 7th session, I  needed a break; I'd been going non-stop - arranging, marketing, rehearsing and performing in 7 solo concerts of original work in 6 months. I could feel I needed to slow down and step back a bit. I rested throughout March, and my next concert was at the end of April, at Suzie's Coffee Shop, in Kuils River. Once again, the combination of a magical space and a listening audience of music lovers ensured a satisfying event. 

                                                      Photo by audience member

SOLO SESSION 9

This concert was done as a fundraiser for a church in Gleemoor, Athlone. For the first half, I did a shorter version of my Solo Session, and for the second half, I did covers. Thanks to the hard work of the organisers, there were about 60 people present; the audience was warm and responsive, joining me in a sing-along, and even dancing! 

SOLO SESSION 10 

At this point, I have to mention that putting on a series like this, with NO budget and NO manager, comes with no guarantees whatsoever. All I have are my vision and my desire to do what I can, while I can. I enter into an agreement with the venue, and I set about doing everything else on my own. On the day, I ideally need an assistant and a photographer, but as you can see, that's not always possible.   

For the 10th one, I returned to a space I really like - the Homecoming Centre, in District Six. In fact, it's the foyer of the old Fugard Theatre. This day required a huge amount of determination, a belief in my bigger goal, and a huge leap of faith. On the day, Cape Town had one of its worst storms of the year. People who had promised to attend, cancelled. With no guarantee that anyone would pitch up, I went ahead. I'd advertised extensively, in newspapers, on the radio, via my email network, and on various social media platforms, so there was always the possibility that someone would attend. In the end, ONE person turned up. She was someone to whom I'd taught guitar lessons, a few years ago, and she'd never heard me perform before, so I did the show for her - with all the love and gratitude I could muster. 

On the photo with me is my friend, Elise Fernandez, who, at short notice, agreed to be my assistant for the show. I'd quite forgotten that she was also a filmmaker. To my absolute delight, she spontaneously filmed the entire show, giving me much-needed video footage!   

                                            Elise Fernandez and I. Photo by audience member's son. 

SOLO SESSION 11

My final concert for the year was in August, at The Wave Cafe, in Long Street, in the CBD. For some reason, this concert felt like the most fun I'd had at any of the solo sessions. Quite a few of my friends attended, including my dear friend, Winlyn, visiting from abroad. It was interesting to see a few people in the audience who'd attended previous solo sessions. Once again without an assistant or a photographer, I was lucky to have another friend, Gail Van Breda, in the audience, who offered to take pics and videos.  

A group photo with some of the audience members. 

 I so badly wanted to end the year with Solo Session 12, to round off the series, because I have a new concept for next year's concerts. I even started exploring possible dates late in December, but I couldn't get what I wanted. 

So, with the unfinished number of 11 as my total number of solo sessions (or maybe not?), I end this year. Even though I didn't achieve 12 (the original goal was 12 by Sept 2023) before the end of 2024, I'm still satisfied that I continued with the concert series: I had good experiences at the different venues, I met really cool people who were willing to give my concept a chance, and I got to perform my original songs to many people who'd never heard me before. 

Based on the feedback, I can see how important it is for me to prioritise releasing recorded music. I suppose that's something to wrap my head around in 2024. We'll see. 

I am deeply grateful to EVERYONE who supported my shows in 2023 - the venue owners and managers, the media people (radio and newspapers) who helped get my message out, the photographers, the friends who assisted me, the friends who shared my MANY social media posts, and the people who took time out of their busy lives to attend my shows and listen to the stories in my songs. Thank you for supporting local music.

May 2024 be a better year for us all. 

                                9 Dec 2023 - I sang a few originals at a Woman Zone gathering.

                                                           Photo: Theresa Smith

   

Reflecting on 2023: Employment

My usual habit of reflecting - at the end of a day, week, month, a job, a project, or even a relationship - is always intensified as I approach the end of a year. My desire to write a reflection on the year becomes almost overwhelming. I wonder what the job equivalent would be of my intense need to write in this way. My life would've taken a completely different direction, had I been a full-time writer. Maybe it's something I'll do once I exit the formal employment sector, in the not-too-distant future. 

Thankfully, my approach to life is that not everything you love needs to be done professionally. It's actually a relief to be able to immerse oneself in one's passions and keep them as hobbies. For me, the lines have occasionally blurred, with my hobbies turning into part-time income-generating activities. I know that, when I'm under pressure, in my main job, the passion that led me to that job can be eroded.  For example, when I tried being a full-time musician, where I relied on my income from music to feed my family, I hated the feeling of not being able to be as discerning as I wanted to be.  No - for me, music fits well into my life as a part-time thing. A side-hustle. 😀

So what's 2023 been like, for me? There were two parts of my life that dominated my year: my employment situation, and my music. With deliberate compartmentalisation, I persisted with the latter, despite the most bizarre set of issues in the former. In this post, I'll focus on the former. 

EMPLOYMENT

In mid-January, I returned to my part-time post at College of Cape Town, where I continued teaching English to adults in the Amended Senior Certificate programme. The course runs from October one year to June the next, when the students write their matric exams. We sign a contract in October, and a second one in January, with all the conditions remaining the same - we teach the same subjects, to the same students, in the same timetable, earning the same hourly rate, as the entire course budget is approved before the October start. 

However, in January we did not receive our new contracts. This did not perturb us too much, as the contracts had been late before. At the end of Feb, there were still no contracts. Those of us who taught only part-time really felt it, but our colleagues who were also full-time employees of the college were only expecting to be paid at the end of March. Meanwhile, the rest of us had resorted to borrowing, to survive. When the end of March came, and there were still no contracts, the educators in the programme got together, which was when the full-time staff realised that the part-timers had not been paid since January! As a team, we started contacting the relevant people in the college, working through the chain of command, raising our concerns and requesting our contracts, as well as our salaries from January. Contracts were then issued, with the hourly rate reduced by about 60% and the start date given as April, and not January!! We refused to sign, and new contracts were issued, with the correct date, but still the reduced rate. We once again refused to sign, demanding our original rate (as no-one had given us any notice about the rate changing).

A LOT has happened since then, but the bottom line is we've not been paid yet. What has become evident is the lack of integrity of the top leadership of the college group.  After going through the required channels yielded no response, the educators involved then escalated to the next level, involving the CCMA, as well as private lawyers. 

The outcome? Nothing yet. We've not been paid yet. It has, however, come to light (in the media) that the leadership crisis within the college group is much bigger than just our matter. I look forward to seeing the outcome of those other accusations of impropriety.  

On a personal level, not being paid my salary from January to June caused problems in my life that will take years to sort out. Borrowing money, thinking you're going to repay it a month later, then having to borrow again and again - that's soul-destroying. When I tried to communicate the impact of the non-payment, in a meeting at head office, I was told that no "emotional outbursts" would be entertained. I guarantee you that that would not have been said to a male. They say there are only two certainties in life: taxes and death. Well, I think we can quite safely add a third - the patriarchy. YOU try not being emotional when you can't pay your rent! And what's so wrong about being emotional, anyway? I'm a human being, and my basic rights were violated! Surely, within the South African context, everyone can understand how unacceptable that is!    

My anchors, throughout that time, were my family, a few friends, my colleagues, and my music. 

Thank God for them all!  

A NEW BEGINNING

Towards the end of August, after being unemployed for almost three months, I successfully applied for a 5-week teaching opportunity at a nearby high school. In that period, I applied for the same post for the fourth term, and was accepted, Also in that 5-week period, I  applied for the post for 2024, which I was very happy to be offered.

Teaching at a well-run school, with a proud history of anti-apartheid activism and a present-day involvement in social justice issues, which is less than 3km from my home - that feels like the "radical, positive change" I'd been manifesting for months. 

It's been a busy and exciting three and a half months - wow! Never a dull moment! I have no doubt that 2024 is going to be just as exciting. I look forward to all that lies ahead. 

Thank you to all who gave me the chance, with each of my applications. I'm ready to make a contribution to the students and to the school, as a whole. I feel like I've entered a significant chapter of my life. 

Time will tell.    

                                             A photo I took at an evening event at school. 

 

Three months into this new chapter

On 15 August, a friend texted me, saying, "Hopefully some good news soon." I thought she was just being kind, until a mutual friend contacted me the following day, informing me that a nearby school was looking for a teacher urgently. I expressed my interest, sent my CV, had a panel interview a week later, and started teaching five days later. And now it's just over three months later, and I feel like I've been there for much longer. 

Having worked in different places, by choice, I am familiar with being the new person among an established team of colleagues. I learn something every day - whether it's about the school's systems or the people. I've always been an observer of people, and it fascinates me to go into a new environment and meet a whole lot of people I haven't met before. I have a strong sense of who I am and what my work ethic is, so all I have to do is learn the systems in place, know the deadlines, and fulfil my duties, adding as much value as I can, in both measurable and immeasurable ways. (If only it were that straightforward! 😄)

I teach a fascinating subject - Life Orientation- which was not on offer when I was at high school. From what I've read, it was introduced into the curriculum in the late 1990s, in post-apartheid South Africa. I think it's grown a lot since then. I also teach English.

I really like the subject, because it deals with topics that have relevance to everyday life, like knowledge of oneself,  interpersonal communication, and conflict resolution. It also covers topics to do with study methods, citizenship, the world of work, and sexuality, amongst others - the latter being fairly contentious, especially amongst more conservative thinkers. I am wholeheartedly behind teaching age-appropriate sex education. Knowledge can never hurt anyone. Instead, the hope is that young people would make informed decisions, based on that knowledge.

With just four school days left for the year, we're busy with reports and other end-of-year procedures. Today we had our prize-giving gathering for the Grade 8 to 11 students. I clapped for each child like he/she was my own, remembering that feeling of hearing my own children's names being called for awards.      

I am over the moon to have a one-year contract at the same school, which will make 2024 an extremely interesting year - completely different to 2023, which had so many curveballs, in the first 8 months, it felt like a never-ending squash match. Ending the year with a job, and looking forward to returning to this job in the new year - I have no words to describe how happy I am.  

I would've loved to have ended this year with Solo Session 12, but I don't think that's going to happen, which is okay. The four weeks that I'll be home, from mid-December to mid-January, will be filled with a combination of prepping for next year, catching up with some things around the house (and garden!), spending time with loved ones, and playing as much music as I can.

Tomorrow morning, I'm singing two sets at a women's gathering, for which I've written two new songs. After a few really hot days (and nights), I'm happy that the weather's cooled down. In fact, it looks like we're in for some rain. I just hope that there's no rain when I have to cart my equipment into and out of the venue tomorrow. 

After that event, I'm off to a special event at my old high school, Harold Cressy High, where a Wall of Honour is being unveiled. Plaques have been made, bearing the names of people who've contributed to the building of the hall or to the school in any way, over the years. Should be fun. I'll get to see high school friends, which is always very pleasant.  I matriculated in 1979, and I still feel a strong connection to the school. 

As I wind up this post, I feel grateful that I survived the journey through the dark tunnel I found myself in, this year, and that life sent me a beautiful bright light that guided me out. I am deeply grateful to everyone who gave me leads to follow up on, including the one that got me this teaching job. I take nothing for granted. 

In so many ways, I am very, very lucky.   

My Sweet Unbloggable You

Once again, despite being passionate about writing, I managed to let more than a month go by without blogging. As I often say (in almost every post), I think the fact that I journal daily has an impact. Why do I write? I can't explain it. All I know is that I feel incomplete - even bereft - when I don't write for more than a day. 

We're right back to frequent loadshedding, with nobody really interested in the "reasons" (excuses) for the electrical blackouts, but everybody agreeing that we've had enough. Which brings us to the topic of what to do to voice our unhappiness and bring about change. Well, we have our five-yearly general elections in 2024, and lots of people are saying they won't vote for the ANC anymore. It really does feel like the ANC's reign is about to be brought to an ignominious end. Public discontent with the party is at its highest, since it came into power in 1994. More than that, a few minority parties have started a new movement, called the Multi-Party Charter, aimed at unseating the ANC in the next general election. Ons sal sien. (Afrikaans for "We shall see.") 

One of the most inconvenient things about loadshedding (which, itself, is a huge inconvenience) is how frequently the announcements (on an App) change! The schedule changes throughout the day! You can't plan even one day, let alone a week. It's spoilt so many things for us, because you could plan a gathering or a concert, you can factor in everything else, but if you don't arrange for back-up power, your entire event could be ruined. In my opinion, the visible fallout of loadshedding - those who can afford it, leaving the country in droves - is not as alarming as the invisible fallout: a massive increase in mental health issues, amongst South Africans. It feels like the biggest slap in the face from a government that was voted in because of its role in liberating us from apartheid. But I think this is yet another case of a liberation movement not being able to govern, post-liberation. In a quick internet search, I found that most of the cases cited are from Africa and South America. Let's be honest, it's not like most of the Western world is doing such a great job of treating its citizens with respect.  

But, I digress. I spent the first 32 and a half years of my life under the racist apartheid regime of the National Party. It was this party, with its official opposition, the Democratic Party, that formed the Democratic Alliance, in 2000. So - all you folks who were oppressed under apartheid and now vote for the DA - half of its DNA is the very National Party that labelled you "non-white" (and other racist terms), treated you like an aberration, and denied you the vote in the land of your birth. Just saying. Enjoy your t-shirt, your flag and your hot meal. It's called Stockholm Syndrome.

Ok, back to me and my life. :-) I've just completed three months of teaching at a nearby high school, with my most recent experience being final exams and everything that goes with them. Shoo!!! That's all I can say. Shoo!   

Now we're busy with the various post-exam processes, after which we'll go on our annual summer break, for four weeks. With just eight school days left for teachers, I'm seeing just how much is packed into these post-exam days. I can already see myself working on and off during the holidays (at home), and the four weeks simply flying by.      

About four weeks ago, I experienced a huge change in my life, which set in motion a chain of other changes, some current and others yet to come. Next year will see me making at least one massive change, as part of this situation. I've decided to focus on the positive side of it, and embrace the new. Without change, we stagnate. In all the ways that matter most, my year's ending much better than it started. For that, I can only feel immense gratitude.      

I feel like I have unfinished business, regarding my Solo Sessions, because I ended at No. 11. That was as far back as August! About two weeks ago, I did a little home video recording of one of my favourite covers: Embraceable You. (Check it out on my Facebook music page: Trudy Rushin, Singer-Songwriter.) Why have I been so absent from the music scene? It's simple - I'm back in teaching! Not an easy pair to stay on top of, simultaneously. I'm sure that, as I settle into my groove, in my teaching job, I'll find the energy to do concerts again. 

Ons sal sien. 

                            Singing a cover of "Embraceable You", in November 2023.