Louisa Jane
Bio
British.
Paediatric speech and language therpaist.
Art enthusiast.
Amateur-dramatics amateur.
Francophile.
Traveller.
People person.
Of the general happy-go-lucky sort :)
Stories (17/0)
Not All Bruises Are Visible on the Skin
My sister is floating round high as a kite. Happy pills do not take away the problem, and if you were to take away the pills we'd still be in the same boat. It concerns me that people are perceiving her induced positivity as a cure, end of problem, that's all, folks. She was given her prescription last week, on the back of her boyfriend breaking up with her. But it's more than that, we've learned. It wasn't until after the break up that she began to open up about what really went on. She'd sit and tell me about the sexual things he's make her do and then wonder why I sat there horrified.
By Louisa Jane5 years ago in Humans
"Je Hablo English" (I Speak English)
There is so much talk in today’s world about identity and expressing oneself, but I found that so many people forget that this extends into so many other personal aspects of ourselves that we don’t tend to think about. One aspect is the language in which we speak and feel most connected with. Something many of us take for granted, but the language(s) that we speak hold far more importance than we would first give them credit for.
By Louisa Jane5 years ago in Humans
Educated Out of Creativity
I went to university with the concrete plan that I was going to train to be a primary school teacher, something I'd wanted to do since I was fourteen. The course was four years long and would give me the QTS qualification (qualified for teacher status). I had the time of my life, I learned so much, and met people that I will call my friends for decades to come, but I hated the course. 90 percent of it was dull mind-numbing information, that whilst we had to know, it was soul-destroying having lecturers trying to make formative assessment sound interesting. The other 10 percent was incredibly interesting, understanding how children learn language and develop cognitively, the different theories of learning, even writing the essays we were assigned. And this was only when we were in uni. The rest of the time we were on placement in local schools. The university assigned us our schools, a different one each year and gave us new objectives to focus on. Over the course of the four years, we would take over more and more of the class timetable as our skills and confidence grew. Our class teacher(s) would help us with our planning, help us with the curriculum and what topics they wanted the kids to cover. Their jobs were to guide us, point us in the direction of success and support us in our formal observations. The observations, I should explain, could make or break us. Some were graded, others weren't, but they had the power to build and destroy our confidence in our abilities in equal measure. Unfortunately, we found that it was pure luck of the draw whether your school/teacher/overall placements was going to be a good one. Everyone I know, myself included, had a bad experience on placement, either there was a personality clash with the teacher, lack of guidance, lack of care if you succeeded or not, a bad observation. Tons of reasons, none of which were good enough reasons. I found that there were a lot of politics amongst the staff wherever you were. Underlying agendas and deep rooted feuds, never a good thing in a mainly female profession. Gloves were off and the bitchiness spread like wildfire.
By Louisa Jane5 years ago in Education
#MyWorstDate
I rubbed my sore eyes, flinching at the light and trying to tell which way was up. The night before I'd been at a house party, a kind of reunion with some school friends who, while we shared the same city, they had gone to other universities to me. So there I'd been, surrounded by hormonal students whom were determined to make me feel welcome and too drunk to care how much alcohol they gave away to me. It was great. I laughed, I danced, I flirted, I drank, I fell into a taxi and somehow stumbled to bed at some ungodly hour of the morning.
By Louisa Jane6 years ago in Humans
Bottling Up Emotions - Your Battle Against the World
All you have to do is google 'The history of mental health' and be shocked at the way we used to shun mental health and the gruesome methods in which we thought would help sufferers achieve 'normality.' But finally, after so many thousands of years of the human race gracing this earth we call home, we are in a position where we are recognising the importance of mental health and realising that it's okay not to be okay. For me, it was the death of Robin Williams that brought it home; I sat there in front of the news having misheard the name and thought 'Oh, Robbie Williams has died. Shame." I think being corrected afterwards made the whole ordeal that ever more shocking for me! I thought of the larger than life man I knew whose wit had no limit and smile never ceased. It suddenly struck me how powerful the mind is and its uncanny ability to produce genius and destruction in equal measure, and it scared me to think it had the capability to bring down a man like Mr. (ROBIN) Williams who, to my mind, was indestructible.
By Louisa Jane7 years ago in Psyche