Got a text message this morning from a happy student who believes my King Lear revision classes got him the one mark by which he received his grade B in english which will be sending him to university in a few weeks time. It makes everything worth everything when people get happy like that. It is more than the sum of a thousand essays marked in purple (because it motivates; me, not them) and a thousand hours of slogging through some set text no-one wants to read. When their efforts pay off and the balance just tips in their favour that little bit that changes everything. And I get to be happy because it is not me that saved it. It is not even King Lear (although if a text is gonna save someone, it's a good place to begin the search). It is the persistence and the hankering-after and the bothering to show up and the trying again because you didn't bother the first time. Good, good and good for him.
Oh, and I got to see Duke Special (check the title link) last night. And it was lovely. Despite being a very seated place with nervous-looking stewards who might have killed me or had a heart attack if I'd got out of my seat like I wanted to. My home town. It is very conservative and nervous. Always protestant and nervous. I can understand that I guess. Here's hoping that one day the harp of David will lift its spirits so significantly that we can all move around a little more freely. We're not asking for naked dancing (yet). Just a little room to breathe and move. A few more gigs like that and who knows. The quiet revolution might yet be upon us.