Meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless...

As my kids get older and start applying for universities I find it fascinating that their High School has to send transcripts of their courses and grades etc to each university they apply to.

When I left High School back in Wales, universities seemed to simply believe that we'd been to High School. They just placed demands for certain A' Level results in order to guarantee a coveted place - grades like three A's, or two E's and every combination in between. I had no idea what a transcript was.

I blissfully spent three years at college totally unaware that transcripts existed. I graduated with a Bachelor's degree (I have the certificate to prove it) in Education and even taught music in an inner city school in Portsmouth (the less said about that experience the better for all concerned).

Years passed and I never knew that my life was lacking, that something very crucial was missing, I enjoyed myself. I got married, had children, moved to the States, sent the kids to school, decided to return to teaching..... and that's when this void in my life reared its ugly head.

About seven years ago, as I just mentioned, I decided to return to teaching. I felt quite proud of myself, I had done a little bit of research and found out that I would need to sit an exam to get a teaching certificate in the State of Illinois. No problem. To apply for the exam, you had to show proof of possession of a Bachelor's degree. No problem. But my degree was from UK not US...

When that happens, so I was told, all you simply need to do is send your transcripts (what?) to the World Education Service, and they (for a large fee) will produce a course by course comparison and let you know exactly what the equivalent of your degree is in the US. OK. No problem. All you have to do is contact your college/university and request your transcripts (there it was again).

Mmmm, slight problem... Many years' ago I went to Hertfordshire College of Higher Education, (a teacher training college which was promoted to a college of higher education) which, a number of years after my departure, became the education department for Hatfield Polytechnic which, after a number of years, became the University of Hertfordshire. Oh well, I called the University of Hertfordshire. Transcripts? they asked. Yes, I replied. No problem, they said. When did you graduate? 1982 ... pregnant pause... oh, they say... we don't have them. You don't have them? We destroy records over 12 years old - university confidentiality policy, you see.

Uh oh!

Was this common practice, I wondered. I emailed some governmental education department or something like that and asked what the policy of keeping records was. They didn't have one. Each education establishment makes its own policy. Oh, well, that was helpful!

Did the University of Hertfordshire have any proof I attended? I asked. Er, no, but we can write a very nice letter explaining about this, if it would help. Well, ...

So I have a very nice letter.

Next step... oh yes, this is a long procedure, you may want to read this in seperate sittings...

Let me explain about little teacher training colleges. In the olden days, even before I attended one, they used to award their own Certificate of Education which was what was required by anyone wanting to be a teacher. Then, for some reason, the powers that be decided that teachers needed to be awarded degrees - but colleges couldn't give those out, universities had to, and, in case you didn't notice, the colleges weren't universities. So the Council of National Academic Awards was set up by Government Charter (doesn't that sound archaic?) as a national academic body that could award degrees and other educational qualifications. My degree was awarded by said Council of National Academic Awards (CNAA).

Back to my story. I decided to contact the CNAA to see if they had any records of my existence. So, I looked them up and... the CNAA no longer exists. It was abolished by the 1992 UK Further and Higher Education Act.

Well, that's helpful.

Anyway, somehow I did find out that all records from the CNAA were now being looked after very carefully by the Open University Validation Services in Milton Keynes. Which is very nice of them, really.

So I called the Open University Validation Services in Milton Keynes and spoke to a very nice lady, who miraculously found out that not only did I exist, but I had been awarded a degree (phew) and they would send me a very nice letter to explain this.

Well, that's very helpful.

I ended up with a letter from the University of Hertfordshire (no records here) and a letter from the Open University Validation Services in Milton Keynes (Alison not only exists, but she has a degree). I sent this information to the World Education Service. Because of my lack of transcripts (did you realise I have no transcripts? can you tell to look at me?) they could only tell me that the US equivalent of my UK Bachelor's degree was a ... wait for it... a Bachelor's degree.

Well, that's helpful.

Unfortunately the Illinois State Board of Education wasn't convinced by my tale of woe, and I gave up hope of returning to the classroom.

And, why am I telling you all this?

I want to do a Master's degree at Fuller Seminary and, guess what, they want transcripts of my Bachelor's degree. Please don't laugh (too loudly)

I spoke to a very nice man at the admissions office yesterday. I told him my situation, you know, I don't have any transcripts. I explained as fully as I could why I have no transcripts. But I think, like most Americans, he stopped listening with the 'no transcript' line. I mean, no one has no transcripts.

I asked him what I should do, and he replied "you've got a lot of explaining to do" yes, I thought, like it's my fault.

Well, that was helpful.

So, here I am, contacting the World Education Service to send their information, originals only please, at a cost of $52, directly to the nice man at Fuller admissions office. I sent a pleading email to the lady at the University of Hertfordshire who sent that very nice letter explaining the issue of no records, to ask if she'd send another very nice letter, original only please, to the nice man at Fuller, and when I get up early enough, I'm going to call the Open University Validation Services in Milton Keynes and ask them to send a very nice letter (at the cost of 6 pounds), original only please, to the nice man at Fuller.

For some reason, I have a very strong feeling of deja vu...

William Stanton (Bill) Doo. March 10, 1927 - February 25, 2009. A Perfect Christian Gentle-Man.

There is not much I can say that can pay a better tribute to my much loved father-in-law, Bill Doo, than my husband, Alan, shared at his funeral. I've copied his words below. I want everyone to read them. I want everyone to know what an amazing man Bill was. I want you all to know how much we are going to miss him.

Bill Doo

I know many of you will not know this but my Dad has a very interesting story. I have not got time to go into it all here, but I will touch upon some of the major milestones to provide some context for my later comments.

Bill Doo was born in London in 1927. His father was a well-to-do Chinese merchant and his mother was the half-Chinese, half-Cornish daughter of a policeman who had risen to be a Chief Inspector of Police in Hong Kong. This is another fascinating story to be retold one day. The first major change in Dads life occurred when his parents left England in the mid-1930s for Singapore. Dad's care was entrusted to his aunt in Liskeard, with the intention of him joining his parents in Singapore to attend college after completing his primary schooling in England.

As probably the first Chinese person in the Liskeard area in the 30s, living with an elderly single lady, he did not have an easy time settling in to a new environment and new school but his involvement with a church youth group helped him to get through it. He progressed well at school and passed the exams for the Liskeard County School.

Everything changed with the start of the Second World War in 1939. In 1941 he learned of the likely loss of both his parents after Singapore fell to the Japanese, leaving him an orphan with an uncertain future. The war years were obviously traumatic and chaotic and affected many people's lives. Dad joined the Army Cadet Force as soon as he could to do his part for the war effort and became a successful young leader.

The next phase of his life started when he left school and was able to obtain articles with a local surveyor in Liskeard. The training he received stood him in good stead and he went on to get other positions in Tenterden and Hertford before ending up in St Ives.

This is where many of you will pick up the story. Dad arrived in St Ives in 1953 getting a job as Deputy Borough Surveyor for the Council. He quickly got involved in the local social scene, including as a member of the Operatic Society, Bowling Club and as a founder member of the St Ives Round Table. Some of you may have seen his picture in the St Ives Times & Echo last week where he was presented with a very timely award for his long membership of the Round Table and in the subsequent 41 Club.

He met my mother, Alma, at one of the local dances and was able to woo her with his good looks and charm. Although not the choice her parents, from a very traditional Cornish family, were expecting as a son-in-law Dad was able to win them over too and he and Mum got married in June 1959.

My earliest memories of Dad were of an extremely conscientious worker – as a young boy it seemed that he was always working – but he seemed to be on good terms with all of his colleagues and "the men" – the council workers that he oversaw. Whenever he met them in the street he always had a kind word for them and they all seemed to respect him in return.

Home life was relatively uneventful. Mum was the driving force around the home but Dad provided for the family and seemed to be doing well. In 1974 with the local council re-organization Dad's job was relocated to Penzance. Personally I was happy about the move at the time, because Dad now worked near to my school so I could get a ride with him whenever I missed the train! After a few years of Dad working in Penzance, as well as me and my brother Roger being at school here, it was decided we would make the move, ending our time in St Ives.

I don't think Dad was ever as happy working in the new larger West Penwith Council where difficult budget decisions had to be taken and politics seemed to sour the atmosphere. Through an unusual set of circumstances Dad was offered early retirement in 1980. This led on to the next major phase in his life.

With time on his hands Dad decided to make another attempt to find out what had happened to his mother and father in Singapore, something that had never been resolved in the chaos after the end of World War 2. Through an unlikely sequence of events he was able to identify and make contact with members of his father's family in Singapore. There is a whole long story here in itself, but all I have time to mention now is that Dad, having thought himself to be the only one on his side of the family for so long, now found himself part of a large extended family that is spread all over the world – represented here by Betty Mui, Dad's second cousin. Dad and Mum were able to fly out to Singapore and meet up with the many of them – finding out much about the family history as well as how and when his parents had died during the Japanese occupation.

They discovered that Dad's family line went back to Swatow in Southern China where his great-grandfather had been one of the first converts to Christianity. Ever since, there has been a strong Christian heritage in the family which has produced several ministers and many believers. When Dad met with his great aunt Alice she told him she had been praying for her long lost nephew Billy somewhere in England for more than 50 years in the hope that she would one day meet him. What a miracle!

Meeting up with this inspiring family combined with the spiritual renewal of Chapel Street Methodist church reawakened Dad's faith, which had been always present but not overt for many years. These events set the scene for the remaining years of his life. Sadly by this time I had moved away and was not aware of much of this. Looking from a distance I sometimes wondered what Dad did to fill his life. Yes, he played bowls and helped out with the administration and building maintenance at the church, but he was still relatively young to be a retiree.

I am sorry to say that it was not until his passing that I learned how wisely and generously he has used the last 25+ years. In reviewing the messages in the more than 100 cards we have received I have learned of the tremendous legacy Dad has left. The picture painted by so many is of a "Perfect Christian Gentleman". He was so kind, generous and welcoming. He always thought the best of everyone, treated them with respect and clearly showed the love of Christ to those around him. God had used all of his life to bring him to this place and provided much work for him to do just loving and helping people. Now he is reaping his reward in Heaven as a true and faithful servant.

Within the family these strengths were sometimes overdone, and it was easy to get annoyed by his fussing and concern for everyone, but these really were a reflection of his caring nature and everyone loved him very much.

Dad was very proud of my Mum and his family – his two sons and seven grandchildren. He and Mum were very much opposites, which I think made them a very stable and loving couple for almost 50 years. Mum was the leader in many respects, taking risks, trying new things, always active. Dad was the helper behind the scenes, cleaning up, making the tea, keeping the show on the road. He valued traditions and didn't much like change but he supported everything Mum wanted to do. He wasn't very handy or practical but he used his gift of helping to maximum effect.

The last memory I'd like to leave you with is Bill's "hello boy" – the greeting he used for everyone from 8 months to 80, even to his granddaughters!

Bill Doo: always putting others first, always gentle, always willing to serve. We all owe him so much. We will miss him greatly.

Alan Doo

March 5, 2009

Bill died unexpectedly of an aortic aneurysm on February 25, 2009, while preparing to go out for lunch with Alma, his wife of almost 50 years.

This time of year

It's very quiet this morning as I drink my first cup of tea, with milk that certainly is quite suspect as to its expiration date, but I will drink it any. I need my first cup of tea of the day, so much. You really don't want to be near me if I haven't had my first cup of tea of the day. In fact, it's so important it's worthy of it's own entry in my blog... and this isn't it! Today, I'm going to be discussing 'this time of year' in three minutes, with no pauses, repetitions or deviations. ...

Ha! like that's gonna happen!

The Christmas tree is up, the presents to family in UK have been mailed (albeit on Thursday with a 5 - 10 day postage time...), the Christmas letter has been written and is sitting on the table waiting to be stuffed into envelopes to family and friends in UK - again with 5 - 10 day postage time! oh well!

The Christmas Puddings have been made - eleven of them! Three large ones, and eight individually sized puddings, and very cute they look too. They will last a very long time... so I may not have to make any next year!

This year I have not made a Christmas Cake. All you Americans please stifle your fruit cake jokes, my Christmas Cake is really good. Mind you, it is usually so laced with sherry/port or whatever alcoholic dregs that are in my cupboard, that you probably don't actually taste the cake... I love Christmas Cake. But, it is only me who eats it in my house. My kids have defected to the dark side. They have been in the US too long and won't eat my cake. But, they love Christmas Puddings which, for want of a better description, are like boiled fruit cakes... On Christmas Day, after we have devoured whatever we have devoured and have let the food rest a little, just enough time to make a tiny little space inside of us to stuff in some more, we take the hot pudding, turn it out onto a plate, pour over some brandy and set it alight. Very pretty it is too. Then we eat it with either brandy sauce or clotted cream. I love Christmas Pudding, in fact, as long as we have Christmas Crackers and Christmas Pudding, my day is complete!

Back to 'This time of year' - told you there was little chance of a three minute entry with no deviations etc

I have bought some presents for the family but need a couple more.
Matt is home from St Aldates in Oxford, till Jan 4.
It's cold - like, very cold outside and unlike the UK where people bet on the chances of a white Christmas occurring, we already have the snow, and shall probably have more before Christmas.

And, to really bring meaning to this season, I went to the best Advent Service, ever, last night, complete with liturgical readings - all for no extra charge, at the Evanston Vineyard. It was wonderful. I really miss a traditional church service this time of year, but when I go to a traditional church... as much as I love the smell of the pews and the candles... there's something there too that I miss. Last night was a great combination of both traditions, comfy chairs, meaningful liturgy, great songs, times of meditation about what this time of year really is about... And what is it about?

God who loves us so much, (I mean more than you can possibly figure out, well you can try, but he'll always love you more than that), so, God, who loves us so much decided the only way to get us back into a relationship with him was to become one of us, to live like one of us, with us (dunno about your experience, but we're not always easy to live with), and die for us. Yet, instead of being born in the most modern of hospitals with all the rights and privileges due to a young king, this helpless babe was born in a stable - Christmas doesn't get more simple than that.

I could now spend a long time talking about that, but I'm going to leave it there, and suggest you take time to think about that for a while; a little moment of stillness in this crazy time of year.

Blessings

The life of an intern

I thought it was time that I updated my blog since I have been nagging my son Matt to update his. He is, as you no doubt remember, an intern at St Aldate's Church in Oxford (apparently, someone over there is notified everytime St Aldate's is mentioned on the web... so I may mention it a few times, just so that somebody reads my blog! - Matt only found about my blog because of this feature! Ha!)

Well, I'm not quite sure what the life of a pastoral intern is supposed to be like, and sometimes it's hard to tell what exactly is different from life before being a pastoral intern, to life after becoming a pastoral intern...

As a pastoral intern I have:
my own cubicle (cell) - well, it's my own when I'm there. When I'm out of the office, it's generally up for grabs since it's the only spare cubicle with some clear space on which to work...
I have an Evanston Vineyard email address (alisond@evanstonvineyard.org)
and I have a name tag (double sided no less) with my name and title boldly emblazoned upon it... doesn't come much better than that!

As for actual duties - I have participated in many varied activities, from visiting new babies in the hospital (everyone say 'ah') to getting to sit in on the highly exclusive weekly Pastoral business meetings. Since I had to sign no documents swearing to life long secrecy of the contents of such meetings, I may therefore not be risking the life of myself or my descendents when I reliably inform you, and remember, you heard it here first, they discuss .... well... business... and since this is a church... they discuss... are you ready for this disclosure (at no personal cost to myself)... they discuss the Sunday Service! There you have it! I'm not sure what else I can tell you... I really think that the millions spent on interdenominational espionage to uncover the mysteries of the Pastoral meetings has been truly wasted.... sorry to disappoint...

I'm not sure if it's one of my internship duties, or whether I just happened to say yes to the wrong question (that happens, you know), but I am organizing the staff Christmas Party this year. It's a fine balance between making it good enough so people feel really appreciated (which they are) and not so good that I get asked to do it again...!

Talking about secrecy...my plans for the evening are closely guarded but I will let you know that if the restaurant involved returns my call, it may involve food of some sort. Watch this space if you want to know how it turns out.

50 of your favorite words

I just found this 'article' on the BBC News Website about peoples' favorite (obscure) words. When you are bored, click on this link, 50 favorite words, and spend a few minutes broadening your vocabulary. Your challenge then, is to use at least four of them in everyday conversation... as if you didn't already...

... just a quick comment on the music quiz in the previous entry: Having (mostly) completed the quiz I now keep thinking of music I should have included so, I am now working on an alternative list, you have been warned. That's the disadvantage of having lived so long, and experienced so many different music genres... and also, ways of playing the music .... I mean, as a child I remember playing records on a wind up record player, known as a gramophone (which mother gave to a rummage sale, - tragic). Now I have an ipod which is already out of date.

Dave Sandell's Music Quiz

So, Dave Sandell who has the best blog in the world posted this quiz and challenged others to do it too. It has been hard to fill in as I am very easily pleased when it comes to music, and in my collection you will find Simply Red rubbing shoulders with Led Zeppelin, next to Alicia Keys, the CSO playing Mahler, the best of Jethro Tull, the latest Coldplay CD, a collection of musicals etc, etc. So amidst my confusion, I endeavored to answer the questions. Give it a go yourself and see what you come up with.

1. song from the last record bought: hard to say as I tend to 'steal' music from CDs my kids have bought

2. a blues song: "The Boogie Man" by Freddie King

3. song that gets you going in the morning:

4. romantic song: "Nothing compares to you" Sinead O'Conner

5. one of the earliest records that you can remember listening to: "A Kind of Hush" by Peter Noone and the Hermans Hermits

6. song discovered from a film: "That Darn Cat" by Bobby Darin

7. song from fav band/artist: don't really have a fave, so will just choose something from the top of my head "Ripples" by Genesis

8. song from an artist/band that you otherwise don’t like, but this one: "Without you" by Nilson - can't say I really like this son, but for interest I listened to a CD by Nilson and really hated it, so out of all the songs I heard, this was the least offensive!

9. a lullaby: just for laughs - "Liverpool Lullaby" by Cilla Black

10. song that makes you laugh/ you find funny: "The Laughing Gnome" by David Bowie/"Stairway to Heaven" by Rolf Harris (you need a very strong stomach to listen to more than a few seconds of that...)

11. really good cover version: "Respect" by Aretha Franklin, written and originally recorded by Otis Redding

12. song that reminds you of school days: "School's Out" by Alice Cooper/ "Tears of a Clown" by Smokey Robinson

13. song for those quiet rainy days: "Baker Street" by Gerry Rafferty

14. feel good song: "Lazing on a Sunday Afternoon" by Queen

15. wildcard: "68 guns" by The Alarm - for no other reason than I was at school with them!

It's a small world after all...

I just came off Skype having talked to my son Matt, the first decent conversation since he left Chicago for Oxford. Due to some problem with his camera (couldn't possibly have been mine) I couldn't see him, but we heard him clearly.

He's having fun in Alan's old stomping ground. It's really weird. Matt will write on his blog about the things he has been doing and the places he has been visiting, and Alan will comment that he used to do that too - Alan went to Oxford University all those years ago. Interesting huh?

Matt was working in the Sunday School at St Aldates and someone came up to him and said she had recently met his aunt, my sister Christine, in Northampton ... how random is that?

I was at a wedding this past Sunday chatting to all and sundry, as you do. I sat next to Jon from England (who had been flown in to 'do' the wedding) who was talking to this other person I did not recognise. I introduced myself, because I'm polite like that, and this guy looks at me and says 'Alison Doo?', I say 'Yes', because that's my name, he said 'I stayed in your house nine years ago' - blimey! And I thought I could remember everyone who has ever been through our doors! That's embarrassing. People who have taken refuge within these four walls have now been relegated to the same treatment as the location of my car keys. I have no idea about that at all! Now, I'd heard about this guy, Paul, from other random people. And these random people would say - do you know Paul? and I would say 'no' because I didn't - but actually, all that time, I was lying, because actually I do... we go way back. That's interesting.

There are some people I knew in London who now attend the church where Matt is. I told Matt to look out for them - but St Aldates is a big church... Anyway, when I was talking to him today, I reminded him to look out for Nick and Leslie. Matt asked if I meant Nick the Warden, and I replied 'yes' because I did, so Matt said he knew who Nick is and is going to say Hi - who knows it might be worth roast lunch on a Sunday!