Tag: Education

The Personal Touch

May 5, 2025

On a daily (and, increasingly, hourly) basis I am bombarded with emails and LinkedIn messages from people contacting me about all manner of different products and educational services with lofty claims of transformational impact, which tend to be followed up persistently and regularly (either by themselves or an automated scheduler) with a ‘just checking you’ve received my last email’ or ‘if you’re not the right person in your organisation please let me know who I should speak to’, or indeed any number of other such follow up strategies, some of which border on the aggressively forceful. In the age of enhanced contactability and multiple communication channels, I suspect most of us suffer from a similar scale of ‘cold calling’ clogging up our inboxes.

Set against such a high volume of sales pitches, the only response as recipient is to simply ignore and delete. Rude though it may be to not reply, if I don’t know you and I’ve not actively sought you out, I’m afraid I simply don’t have time to send a polite ‘thanks but no thanks’ response to everyone who contacts me.

One individual did, however, break through the impenetrable barrier earlier this year. It was in such stark contrast to all other contact I had received that I felt compelled to respond, and indeed write a blog post about it!

For a start, this wasn’t an email nor a LinkedIn message; it was a handwritten letter. Now for those of you who’ve read some of my previous blog posts (thank you to all three of you…) you’ll know that I am a big believer in the value of a handwritten note, and in spite of my handwriting being barely legible (“I think it’s actually got worse,” my Deputy Head Academic informed me last week with palpable concern on his face), I make time each week to write handwritten Forte Award notelets, cards of thanks to colleagues, or birthday cards to pupils and staff.

The letter writer – Philip Morrow from Morrows Outfitters – was blessed with far more grown up handwriting than I, and had spent time writing a full two pages having been recommended to contact me by a mutual acquaintance. Unlike most of the uninitiated contact I receive, there was no ‘hard sell’ within the letter, but there was a clear sense of the passion that Philip had for a family business that began in 1873 in Liverpool and, as the fifth generation of the family to act as custodian of the business, there was a compelling sense of his ‘why’.

The letter was accompanied by two pairs of rather splendid striped socks as an example of their produce and, what’s more, my initials had been embroidered into them as well.

As it happens, whilst I’ve not met Philip before, I have previously purchased a pair of similarly-styled socks from Morrows (in the Chocolate & Gold colours of the boarding house in my previous school where I was a Housemaster) so it wasn’t a complete out of the blue contact (and I should add, said socks are still going strong 10+ years later, so I can certainly testify to the quality and durability of the product!). But I’m not sure that a simple email or LinkedIn message would have had the same impact, and would likely have suffered the same terminal fate of the vast majority of the rest of the contact I receive.

The socks were a nice touch, (and have drawn approving looks around campus from pupils and staff alike, yes, even, my Deputy Head Academic…) but what struck me most was the personal touch that was so evident in the effort, time and consideration that went in to the communication; for me, that made all the difference. As the writer EM Forster implored: ‘Only Connect’.

It’s the Thought that Counts

My birthday last year was another such occasion when I was reminded of the personal touch, and the truth of the old adage that ‘it’s the thought that counts’.

Coming into school in the morning, I was greeted by my colleagues at reception with a number of gifts (entirely unnecessarily but nevertheless appreciated!), one of which was a large, square box wrapped in sparkling red wrapping paper.

Intrigued, as I opened the box and unwrapped the tissue paper lining, there inside was an item of clothing .  It was a waistcoat, but not just any waistcoat; this waistcoat was made up in the Oswestry School tartan with the same school-crested silk material that lines our green school tweed blazers. 

A lot of effort will have gone in to contacting our school uniform supplier, getting the material ordered, and making it up into a waistcoat that perfectly fits (with a little sneaky assistance from my wife who poached a waistcoat from my wardrobe for them to use for measurements). That’s a lot of thought, a lot of forward planning, and a lot of effort. And regardless of where you stand on tartan waistcoats (as a Scot, for me it is surely the ultimate in sartorial style!) it was- and is – a really, really special gift that I’ll treasure, and it is literally (at least at the moment) completely unique and a one of a kind.  It’s the thought that really does count.

A Culture of Gratitude

This term, we began our staff INSET with an invitation to pause for a moment or two to express gratitude to a colleague who had gone above and beyond, or helped in some way, or – in simply being them – had made the difference. Blank Postcards of Gratitude were placed on the chairs of the seats in the hall, which were soon filled in (enthusiastically I should add) and posted into a specially-designed postbox following which they were delivered to their intended recipients.

Whilst it had the potential to be perceived as a bit of a gimmick or a token gesture, I’m a firm believer in the confidence that comes from collegial gratitude. Don’t just take my word from it – the great Roman statesman Cicero once declared that “Gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others”- and in our case, it was a really positive way to begin with words of encouragement that provided a spring in our step as we embarked upon the new term.

Positivity and gratitude resonates and reverberates. Within a relatively small school community such as ours where individuals – and individuality – are valued and encouraged, I see it (and hear it) each and every day, where kindness and compassion are part of the very fabric of the place, and where pupils and staff alike take the time, effort, and care to look out for one another, support one another, and celebrate one another.

That, perhaps, is the ultimate personal touch. Long may it continue, here and everywhere!

Just to prove that the personal touch really does work, I share with you the website of Morrows Outfitters with their range of fine UK-produced apparel. And, no, I’m not receiving commission! https://www.morrowsoutfitters.com/.

One More Step

March 27, 2025

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

I was reminded of this ancient proverb during our recent 24 hour fundraiser in aid of the new Performing Arts Centre at Oswestry School, an incredible weekend of collective effort and community endeavour, and one of the highlights not just of the term but of the school year as a whole.

At 2pm on Friday 7 March, the entire school joined together for the countdown to a non-stop challenge that would see hundreds of pupils, parents, staff and alumni throw themselves into a vast array of individual and group endurance challenges and creative efforts that would take us all the way through the night and on into the following afternoon.

A particularly special moment came right at the end of the event as Head of Lower School Mr Will Taylor concluded his epic 55 mile ‘Sea to School’ trek along Offa’s Dyke from Prestatyn to Oswestry, a feat of endurance that his feet won’t have thanked him for! Having walked through the night, over valley and stile, up hill and through brook, those final miles from the Old Racecourse down to the school were painful and slow ones, but as he neared the school, a group of pupils and staff went up to join him for the final mile, gathering around him to help him through those tough final moments. And, as he rounded the corner and walked towards the awaiting tunnel of cheering onlookers, he dropped his walking sticks and broke into a run, positively charging towards the finishing line where in front of him was a basin of deliciously cold iced water for his feet, and an equally enticing ice cold beer! It was a wonderful moment of collective celebration and admiration, and just one example of the quite brilliant – and quite inspiring – ways so many within our community threw themselves so fully into the fundraising effort.

Head of Lower School Mr Taylor cools off his feet after his feat of endurance!

Stepping Out of Your Comfort Zone

For my own part, I’d agreed (somewhat foolishly, in retrospect!) to attempt to run 50km on a treadmill, a distance I had never come close to running on a treadmill, and a distance I’d not run for very many years; in fact, the last time I’d raced over that distance was over 21 years ago when I was much younger. And much fitter!

But I was determined to play my part, because this is a project that’s personally hugely important to me; having been persuaded as an 11 year old to audition for the school play (and unexpectedly landing the eponymous main part in Peter Pan), a desperately shy introverted young boy was given the confidence to believe in himself, and it changed everything for me. Above all, it taught me about the importance of stepping out of your comfort zone and, for me, it was a first step on the journey towards where I am today. That desperately shy 11 young boy who wouldn’t even dream of putting his hand up in class would not have believed that in his later life he’d not only become a teacher and be the one at the front of the class, but would end up as a headteacher standing at the front of an assembly hall full of hundreds of students. The very thought of it would have struck terror in that young lad, but those first steps on that school stage (yes, green tights and all!) were some of the most important ones in my journey towards believing in myself and having the confidence to do things outside of my comfort zone.

Whilst the 50km Challenge was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done (and I don’t want to even look at a treadmill for a long while!) each and every one of those steps was worth it as a means of playing my part in the collective endeavour, and whilst those final miles were tough – really, tough – I kept in the back of my mind the reason why we were doing it, and the potential transformational impact it would have on future generations to come, youngsters who might in turn find their forte – and find their confidence – on stage and in the performing arts.

Barely standing at the end of the 50km Challenge!

Building a Legacy

As we gathered on the quad on that Friday afternoon in front of the Memorial Hall, we were joined by Chris Wylie (OO) and his wife Judith. Chris had been a pupil at the school when the Memorial Hall was opened on 11th December 1954 just over 70 years before. He remembered the occasion well, and reflected on just how fortunate he and his peers felt to have this brand new facility, one that – very poignantly – was built to commemorate those from the school who had given their lives in the two world wars. The building was funded almost entirely by donations from alumni and friends of the school, and was a campaign spearheaded – and delivered – through the determination and passion of a group of individuals who fervently believed in a vision for a legacy facility to benefit generations of youngsters in the years to come; that the sacrifices of those who had fallen would not be in vain.

As a school whose motto is We Learn Not For School But For Life, the Performing Arts plays a central role in the development of the skillsets and mindsets that will enable our youngsters to thrive – and flourish- in their adult lives.  After all, there is no better stage than the theatre for developing confidence and communication skills.  No better stage for experiencing collaboration and teamwork.  No better stage for developing resilience, agility, motivation and self-awareness.  Leadership; empathy; attention to detail; creative thinking (all of which, as it happens, are on the World Economic Forum’s list of Top 10 Skills of the Future).

Members of the Oswestry School Dance Academy which this year celebrated its 10th anniversary and has grown to a company of 115 members from 21 local schools

The vision for the new Performing Arts facility is all about making a life-changing impact to generations of youngsters in the years to come, and to make a difference to the local community in which we live.  A theatre and performance venue within walking distance of the town would be an exciting and significant community development for the town of Oswestry and is one of the main reasons why the Town Council were unanimous in their support for the project.   With residential housing for the elderly directly opposite the Memorial Hall, it is exciting to think of the difference we could make to our closest neighbours with regular weekly informal concerts within the new foyer space, or exhibitions of artwork, or talks from visiting authors and speakers.  For young and old, this new facility can – and will – really make a difference.  

Striding Forward

The 24 hr Non-Stop Challenge has raised just over £30,000 at time of writing – a phenomenal total and a demonstration, too, of what can be achieved through shared vision and collective endeavour. It brings our total fundraising to just shy of the million pound mark which will be a significant milestone in the campaign when we get there.

When we set out on this journey, the £1.5million fundraising target seemed like an almost impossible dream, but having taken that all-important first step, with each step, we get closer to the destination, and closer to the dream.

The journey – no matter how long, and no matter how hard – will be well worth it in the end!

https://www.justgiving.com/campaign/pacappeal

Follow, my leader

March 15, 2024

In an early work from his debut collection Death of a Naturalist, the late great Irish poet Seamus Heaney eulogises his farmer father as he “worked with a horse-plough,/His shoulders globed like a full sail strung/Between the shafts and the furrow.” The poem – ‘Follower’ – is a vivid evocation of youthful wonder, admiration and awe, and is a poignant love letter to his ‘expert’ father whose furrows Heaney followed, not as a farmer but, as he suggests in the companion poem ‘Digging’, as a writer who would go on to excavate the Irish landscape and dig into its troubled history.

The collection Death of a Naturalist was to have a profound impact upon me as a schoolboy, introduced to Heaney’s work by a new – and wonderfully passionate- teacher who joined our school as I entered my final year. Until that point, I had always enjoyed studying English, but it was the arrival of the inspirational figure of Mr McLaughlin that truly fired my imagination and revealed to me the power – and impact – of the written word.

‘Seamus Heaney’ by Old Oswestrian artist Peter Edwards (copyright National Portrait Gallery)

Amongst others – including my grandfather, a Classics teacher – Mick McLaughlin played an influential role in my own pathway into teaching and, having continued to take a keen interest in Irish literature whilst studying English at university, it was to Heaney that I first turned – and returned – when I commenced my own teaching career. I found it a particularly moving – and symbolic – moment as, in turn, I taught Heaney’s poem ‘Follower’ to my own A Level students, conscious as I was of following in the Tweed-suited, brogues-wearing footsteps of Mr McLaughlin. As Heaney did when he followed in the literal furrows of his father, I, too, “stumbled in his hobnailed wake,/Fell sometimes on the polished sod,” though, thankfully for Mr McLaughlin, I at least didn’t ask him to give me a piggy back as Heaney’s father did with the young Heaney “dipping and rising to his plod”!

Leader as Follower

There’s a lovely moment each year at our school’s summer term Speech Day when the Head Boy and Head Girl announce to the school and our guests the names of those who will follow them as the next year’s Heads of School. Having led the school for the past academic year and delivered their valedictory speeches, their final act is to welcome on to stage their successors, handing over their Heads of School gowns as they do so, a symbolic gesture of the passing of leadership from one cohort to another. With a history spanning over 615 years, I find it a powerful reminder of the golden thread that connects one year group to the next, the metaphoric baton of leadership being passed across not only the years but across the centuries, too. In this sense, our Heads of School become both leaders and followers, walking in the footsteps of their forebearers, learning from them, emulating their example, but ploughing their own furrow, and doing it their own way.

This term we have spent the past few weeks interviewing the next cohort of Prefects to lead the school in the forthcoming academic year. One of the questions we ask requires applicants to reflect on what makes a great leader, and to provide examples of leaders they’d wish to emulate. Many of them pointed to the example of our current Heads of School Myles and Marta, and their Deputies Jessie and Harris as leaders they admire and whose example they hope to follow. They point to Myles’s approachability and his empathy, his calm manner and his willingness to drop everything to listen to a fellow pupil in their time of need. They point to Marta’s example on and off the sports field, her energy, her organisation, her ability to get things done. They point to Harris’s kind nature and his imaginative approach (and his Instagram status as the star of our pupil-led Football team account that has a fast-growing following!). They point to Jessie and the way the youngsters in our Prep School look up to her and admire her, and the ‘glue’ she provides in her own yeargroup.

These four – and their Prefect team – were appointed for the skillsets and character attributes they possessed. They had seen examples of strong leadership from their predecessors, who in turn had role models to follow from their own predecessors. And when we appoint the Prefect Elect and begin the process of handover again, next year’s cohort will spend the coming term following in the furrows of the current Upper Sixth before they take the baton on and lead themselves.

The golden thread continues; unbroken. Follower. Leader. Leader-Follower.

Oswestry Heads of School (clockwise from top left): Myles; Marta; Harris; Jessie

Curator Leadership

One of the tremendous privileges over the past few years in which I have been Headmaster of Oswestry School has been the opportunity to meet a number of my predecessors. Some I knew already from ‘the circuit’ including my immediate predecessors Julian Noad (now Head at Queen’s School, Taunton) and Douglas Robb (now Head at Gresham’s), but others I have met when they have taken the time to visit us whether on Founder’s Day or just in passing through, including Paul Smith (Headmaster 1995-2000) and the legendary figure of Frank Gerstenburg (Headmaster 1974-1985). All were great Heads and steered the good ship skilfully, carefully, and at times courageously through waters calm, choppy and sometimes stormy.

When you are the Head of a school founded in 1407, you quickly gain a sense of the privilege and responsibility of the role, first and foremost of course to the community of pupils and staff one leads, but likewise the privilege and responsibility of stewardship, taking on the metaphorical baton from those who have led the schools across the centuries, and ensuring the golden thread of the school continues uninterrupted.

“Your leadership is temporary,” writes educationalist and former Head Richard Gerver, “and you are just the author of one chapter in a school’s history, a custodian: your aim must be to ensure that it is a great chapter and actually so good that it sets up the next one to be even greater.”

Former Oswestry School Heads Paul Smith (top left) and Frank Gerstenberg (bottom left)

Whether a Headmaster, a Head of School, a Prefect- or any of the other many leadership roles within a school community- one’s leadership is temporary. We are custodians of the school, curators even: our role is to look after. Looking after those within our care, looking after the school. As we have followed in the footsteps of those who have gone before us, in turn we lay a trail for those who come after to follow behind.

Perhaps it’s not a golden thread after all, but a golden tread. In time, our footsteps will disappear, but for those that follow immediately after, they are firmly imprinted, a golden tread to follow, a golden tread to lead forward from.

Image: copyright Anup Shah | Getty

Dwelling in Possibility

September 15, 2022

The English poet Emily Dickinson once wrote, “I dwell… in possibility.”  

As an educationalist, when I think of our pupils I think, above all else, of possibility. The possibility of new experiences.  The possibility of new friendships.  The possibility of exciting futures ahead.  

Some of our pupils- those who attend the Prep School at Bellan House- are as young as 4- how exciting to be starting school in Reception and to begin this great adventure for the first time!  At the other end of the school, those in the U6th enter their final year of secondary education with the prospect of moving on to a new chapter beyond.  Those in between have opportunities galore: adventures to go on; memories to make; whole worlds to explore inside and outside the classroom.  Possibilities abound.  

Reception pupils from Bellan House share a moment reading together as they embark upon their first year at school


Never Give Up

This summer, anyone who likes their sport was treated to an absolute feast of sporting competition, perhaps best of all the glorious victory of the Lionesses in the women’s European Football Championships.  If, like me, you like your athletics, not only was there the World Athletic Championships held in Oregon, USA, but you also had the Commonwealth Games in Birmingham and the European Championships in Munich. 

Now I’m a bit of a running geek, so I’ll literally watch any athletics going, but for me, the greatest moment of them all was the Scottish runner Eilish McColgan’s epic 10,000m victory in the Commonwealth Games, roared on by the 30,000 capacity crowd in Birmingham’s Alexandra Stadium.  

It was an incredible race, an unbelievably gutsy run, but what made it so special is that this was McColgan’s first global title which, at the age of 31 was something that many felt was perhaps slipping from her grasp. 

Photo: Tom Jenkins/The Guardian


McColgan had competed in three previous Commonwealth Games. And in those three previous Games, she had raced in three different events: the 1500m; the 5km; and the Steeplechase.  She had never won a medal, finishing 6th every single time.   

What made her victory all the more impressive was that it came during a year in which she was wiped out for seven weeks due to Covid, and then suffered further illness and minor injuries in the run up to the previous month’s World Championships where she finished 10th.  

Imagine what it takes to stand on that startline in your fourth Commonwealth Games, having never placed higher than 6th, towards the end of your track career, and having just a month before placed 10th, your year’s training ravaged by injury and illness.  Oh, and throw in the fact that her mum Liz had twice won Commonwealth Gold in the same event; a further weight of expectation and pressure to contend with.  You’d think she’d have gone in with significant doubts about whether or not she could do it.

The odds stacked against her, that race took guts; it took self-belief.  But Elish McColgan refused to be defined by her past.  She dwelled in possibility.

Think Not What You Are, but What You Can Become

In the small town of Gilgil in Kenya there’s a place called The Restart Centre.  On its walls are painted in big, bold letters, the words: Think Not What You Are, but What You Can become.

I have had the privilege of visiting the Restart Centre on many occasions over the last decade, and it is one of the most extraordinary places I have ever been to.

Home to orphaned and abandoned street children- some as young as but a few months old- The Restart Centre was set up by an incredible lady called Mary Coulson who felt that she had to do something to help the increasing number of street children in her home town of Gilgil following tribal violence in the country during the 2008 election.  Her vision was to provide a safe haven for these children who had experienced such a difficult start to their lives, many of whom had experienced significant loss, many of whom had suffered unspeakably, all of whom had been dealt a cruel hand in life.

Founder Mary Coulson with children from the Restart Centre

If you ever get the chance to visit The Restart Centre you will be surprised, as I was, with just how happy these children are.  They have experienced terrible loss, suffered tremendously, and carry wounds both physical and emotional.  You would expect them to be downcast.  Downbeat.  Damaged.   Yet even if you’re only there for a short time, you will quickly be infused with the most glorious laughter, the most infectious smiles, and a wonderful, deep joy that can be seen in the way they sing, in the way they dance, in the way they talk, in the way that they live.  It is one of the most uplifting and inspiring things to witness.

Mary Coulson’s simple goal was to provide these children with a future.  With a restart.  And in this small green corner of Gilgil, she has created a place of love.  A place of support. A place, above all, of hope.  For these children, there is now a future.  They have been able to start again; to re-start.  They do not dwell on their past and what their lives have been; instead, they dream of the future, focus their energies on what they can become.

They, too, dwell in possibility.  Think not what you are, they’ll tell you, but what you can become.

Refresh and Restart

For those of us in education, the start of September marks a restart.  Whether new or returning, pupil or staff, the first day of the new term and the new academic year signals an opportunity.  We are fortunate not to have experienced the unimaginable start in life that the children of the Restart Centre have gone through, but we can be inspired by their example, as indeed we can be inspired by the likes of Elish McColgan, the Lionesses, and countless other shining examples of determination, perseverance, and hope.  We can be encouraged to dwell not in the past but to focus our energies on the future and the possibilities that lie ahead.  We can- and should- dream.

Dwell in possibility.

The Courage to Learn

June 21, 2022

All too often we overthink things. Over-prepare, over-plan, over-ponder. Worry whether things will work, what people might think, whether or not projects will succeed and flourish… or sink and fail.

And that fear of failure often holds us back.

As adults, too readily we stick to the things we know and the safety net of expertise and experience, avoiding anything new or out of our comfort zone.

As educators, however, I think we have a responsibility to demonstrate to those youngsters in our care the importance of lifelong learning. We have to model that, getting out of our own comfort zones, making ourselves vulnerable and exposing ourselves to the possibility of failure. After all, we urge our youngsters all the time to challenge themselves and try new things but how often do we do that ourselves?

Yes Sir, I Can Boogie

I always enjoy my visits to our Prep School at Bellan House and in particular the opportunity to say hello to our younger pupils and see and hear about all that they are learning and experiencing. At their age, there is perhaps a greater willingness to try new things, and a freedom and joy that comes from being unconstrained by self-consciousness or the crippling worry of what other people think about you.

On a recent visit to Bellan, I popped my head round the door of the downstairs dance studio where our Year 2 pupils were in the middle of a ballet lesson. I’m not quite sure what possessed me, but spotting a gap in the circle in which they were formed awaiting the start of their routine, I decided to step in and join them. Not knowing the particular dance routine they had been taught (and, as my three daughters would attest, being a genuinely awful dancer), when the music started, my efforts at keeping up with the kids was – judging by their fits of laughter- a calamitous, comedic disaster!

My dance experience lasted all of 10 seconds, but this moment of spontaneous silliness was, I’m told, the highlight of the Year 2s day. Failure though it may have been, in my book that makes it worth embarrassing myself for!

When the video was uploaded on LinkedIn (which you can view here), I was somewhat overwhelmed by the response with the post having been viewed over 300,000 times and pretty much everyone I meet now saying, “ah, so you’re the dancing Headmaster!” My career is in (sequined) tatters.

I was initially somewhat surprised by the response, but reading through the comments (all 768 of them…), it quickly became clear that the video resonated with people and, aside from the joy of hearing the gleeful laughter and infectious giggles of the kids, there was a common thread to responses: as adults we must step out of our comfort zone more often, and as leaders (who, all too often, can seem rather serious, particularly to a seven year old) we mustn’t be afraid to be seen as learners as well as leaders.

Becoming Learners Again

One of the most brilliant things I’ve heard recently was about one of my TAs here at Oswestry School, who decided to sit GCSE Chemistry this year alongside those students that he’d been working with.

I don’t think I’d have heard about this had another science teacher not mentioned it- such is his way, my colleague Rob’s gone about this particular personal project quietly and without fanfare. His motivation? To step into the shoes of the pupils and be a learner again; for, in studying for the same subject, going through the same processes of learning, preparing, revising and exam writing, he will better understand his pupils and be better placed to support them in so doing. In Rob’s own words, “I was able to experience just what the pupils were going through and gain greater knowledge of the subject matter at the same time.” As he wasn’t attending every single Chemistry lesson, much of Rob’s studying was done at home studying the textbooks, undertaking past papers, and seeking guidance from teachers in the science faculty. “I understand now what our pupils go through as they prepare for their exams: the trepidation; the expectation; the pressure.”

Oswestry School TA Rob Howell in the Science Labs with his fellow students

It’s a really courageous thing to do. It’s out of Rob’s comfort zone. It’s not an area of expertise. It’s a risk.

But- regardless of outcome- it’s an eminently worthwhile, and indeed admirable, project, and I take my hat off to Rob. I’m also pretty sure he’ll do a far better job in the exam hall than I did in the dance studio! We await with interest exam results day; Rob’s said that if he passes he’ll do GCSE Physics next year. Watch this space…

Learning isn’t always easy, and it’s not always plain sailing. But who wants plain, anyway? Life is far richer with challenge, new experiences, and a lifelong love of learning. So let’s keep at it!

POSTSCRIPT:

Inspired by Rob (and slightly strong-armed by my colleagues) I recently applied to Dance HQ’s charity Strictly Shropshire competition which, I can tell you, will be a huge learning curve and pit me significantly out of my comfort zone. Seven weeks of lessons followed by Competition Night in November is an utterly terrifying prospect, but it will help me to remember what it’s like to be a learner, and will raise valuable founds for the Hope House Children’s Hospice in Shropshire. I won’t lie, I’m petrified at the prospect, but you can’t just talk the talk, you’ve got to walk the walk, too. Or, rather, dance the dance…!