I’ve never been the sharpest tool in the box. I did exams and passed them, but I never caused anyone to wonder if I’d win prizes or write worthy tomes. Acceptably, anonymously, average. A university referee wrote that I was ‘smiley’, and I didn’t even realise how damning that was.
I’m never going to do another exam, or consider another degree, but I often do wee short courses, online or open learning at the local university because I’m curious. If I can do something during the day, at home, at my own pace, well why not?
In the next few weeks I have work to do for an ILM award for the Leading in Partnership course I’ve been doing since November. Write a thing and give a presentation on another thing. I must find out what I’m to do. Nobody but me will care if I don’t, but really, if there’s a certificate for grabs, I want it. I want the validation. (I did 10 weeks of a creative writing course and was more proud of the grade for my one piddly assignment than of my entire first degree.) That happens when you don’t get out much.
In the early part of the year I spent one morning a week participating in the School for Health and Care Radicals. (All the resources are available from that link should you be interested in change). I enjoyed the process and the learning and the connections. When it finished, we all had the chance to apply for a virtual badge, by demonstrating how we’d applied our learning to making change happen. I waffled and filled in a form.
My badge arrived at the weekend. All along I’d been thinking of it like a primary school gold star, a shiny token to mark an achievement, but I’m valuing it more than that.
Bloggy buddies, I remember the last time I was so excited for a badge to arrive at ours.
It’s like my very own Blue Peter badge. Meaningless, but wonderful to have.