Moots, mum and mutts.

  This week has been one of those rare ones where everything seemed to connect. On Monday and Wednesday, I spent the day working on the Tarian project, exploring how awareness, psychology, and communication intertwine in preventing online harm. Then, on Tuesday, I attended the FAIRE / Browne Jacobson careers day, where we spoke about finding your path in law, not just by title or salary, but by purpose and fit. Somewhere between those two days, something clicked. I realised that understanding how we work, why we respond the way we do, and what motivates us isn’t just useful for career planning, it’s essential. So, when I sat down later that week to complete the Career Pathway Personality Assessments, it felt less like ticking boxes and more like holding up a mirror. Fourteen tests later, I could see a fuller picture of myself, not just as a law student, teacher, or researcher, but as a whole person.  What drives me, challenges me, and helps me thrive. This morning, as the last...

  From the side of a hospital cot, watching the tornado of a child that Fred has turned into under the highest dose of antihistamines he’s ever had, plus steroids and recovery from an adrenaline injection, I find myself wondering what would have happened if his teacher hadn’t recognised the signs of anaphylaxis. Just as I was about to call registration for Year 9, my line manager grabbed me: “You need to go, now. Fred’s been taken to Royal Glam Hospital.” Fred is four. He suffers from severe allergies, asthma, eczema, and the dreaded anaphylaxis. At lunch, he’d told his teacher that something felt wrong. She noticed his face turning from pink to red, then came the cough. Being an allergy sufferer herself, she recognised the signs immediately. She acted fast, injected him, and called an ambulance. Fred had told her it felt like an ice cube was in his throat, and it was getting bigger. She knew that in moments like this, every second counts. Speed is the difference between a chi...

  Today I arrived at Uni just after nine. I’d left home early, thinking two hours before my workshop would be plenty of time to find a space, park, walk to campus, and settle in the café. It was. I arrived with over an hour to spare, which felt perfect. A rare pocket of peace away from the chaos of home life, kids, cats, and Polly dog. My friend from last year, my “Uni girl”, messaged to say she was also on her way to the same workshop but struggling to find a space in the overcrowded car park. With twenty minutes to go, I was worried she wouldn’t make it. But in the nick of time, she arrived at the café, flustered and frustrated. Understandably so, the car park had been closed off despite there being plenty of empty spaces. We made our way across campus to the lecture room, chatting about mundane things, the weather, parking, coffee. But it was nice. Comforting, even. It felt so much better not to be on my own. Then came the news: the workshop had been cancelled. Suddenly, we...

  This week was CV and cover letter week in our Learning Through the Workplace workshop and lecture and I’ll admit it, I felt deflated. As an older, mature student who’s been on the job market for the better part of twenty years and having taught employability skills to GCSE pupils for many of those, it felt… well, a little irrelevant for me to be there. But, once again, I was proven wrong. There is definitely an art to writing a CV, and an even finer one to writing a cover letter. Only a few days ago, a fellow teacher had asked me to help her write hers, so sitting through a lecture I’d delivered countless times before felt almost pointless. Yet, I still learned a few things. Number 1: Don’t Be Arrogant Thinking you already know it all is usually the first sign that you don’t. I realised my CV could be improved. It could be refined, tailored, and more clearly aligned with what employers actually want. It wasn’t bad but it was basic. Number 2: Be Forward with Your ...

I’m doing my law degree part-time, which means by the time I finish, my little boy will be almost nine. Nine! Right now he’s only four, so in his eyes I’m just “Mummy with the big books.” By the time I’m done, he’ll probably be ready to moot. Last year, he wasn’t ready for Criminal Law or Law and the State. He’d sit there, listen politely, eyes glazing over until sleep mercifully claimed him. Easy win for bedtime stories. Although I now feel that I might have been filling his mind with ideas of what not to do. But this year he’s sharper. Much sharper. He and his best friend Jo, who’s ten months younger but just as quick, have started plotting mischief together like a pair of pint-sized law-maker-in-training, except their cases usually involve biscuits, scooters, or which adult they can charm next. Honestly, it’s like living with two tiny criminal conspirators. So when my Tort Law textbook arrived, Freddy thought it was an early present. His excitement vanished once he realised ther...