Having an official launch is like preparing for Christmas dinner.
First of all, one must plan for Christmas. That one word, plan, covers planning the time (the date for Christmas dinner is pretty much a given), guest list, seating arrangements, menu and entertainment.
There are intense deliberations about every aspect of planning. Both sets of grandparents must be invited even though Grandpa Mick is a cantankerous, crinkled curmudgeon who angrily waves his walking stick when he sees little children doing nefarious things, like licking the icing off the Christmas cookies.
Aunty Grace must also come as she is single again and is miserable. If she wasn’t in the bosom of her family on this most holy of holidays she would be in her own broom cupboard with a bottle of cheap wine and Adele playing on her iPod. This Grace definitely needs saving.
Naturally, big brother Ralph and his tiny, feisty Italian wife Concordia need an invitation. This invite must include their ‘children’ – three highly-strung, ankle-biting Chihuahuas – who require special catering as they eat only organic chicken, and most certainly not Tesco turkey that was on special. Ralph looms over his four little charges, who each bark back resentfully at him in their own particular way when he gives them directions.
One more person who simply has to be there is Cousin Jeffrey. This is because nobody else in the wider family will have him. Cousin Jeffrey, aged eighteen, has been released from custody for the fifth time since July. He has the makings of a superb career criminal but this stellar career is still in its early stages. He is learning on the job.
Then the awkward question arises about where to seat people at the extended table. Grace and Jeffrey cannot be together as they’d hide a bottle of vodka under the table and take turns in ‘retrieving dropped cutlery’ until they slumped in a stupor alongside the (empty) bottle. As for seating Grandpa Mick near the yappy ankle-biters – well, that would end in murder by walking stick.
The planning goes on. Getting the menu right is a modern-day nightmare. At least one family member identifies as an organic, gluten-free vegan. Grandpa Mick has no teeth so he has to suck the festive fare. Sucking a boiled brussel sprout is neither easy nor delicious, so a puree is called for. The assorted children wish they lived in Japan, where KFC is a traditional Christmas dish. Concordia, like her dogs, also eats only organic chicken, which she cuts up in little cubes before spearing them on her fork, so suitable organic gravy must be made to help the cubes slide down her bird-like throat.
We won’t go into the joys of Christmas day entertainment. It’s too depressing. At the time of writing there are 198 days left until Christmas 2022. An urgent squizz at December flights to Elsewhere is highly recommended.
Fortunately, planning for our EnRich Launch was nothing like Christmas Day planning. Thankfully, too, the actual event was nothing like my other experiences of launching, as detailed in my last blog.
As regards the planning, the old joke comes to mind: ‘How many coaches does it take to change a light bulb?’ Answer: ‘Only one, but the light bulb must want to change.’ So, with a collective group of coaches doing the planning it could have been quite interesting.
Yo Clay, Ruth Lewis, Pam McFarlane, and Sallianne Robinson. The capes are invisible, but they’re there!
As an aside, I’m not sure what the collective noun for a group of coaches would be. Suggestions so far include ‘an affirmation of coaches’ (very highbrow) or ‘a growth of coaches’ (sounds a bit medically sinister) or ‘a power of coaches’ (cape-wearing Super-Coaches fly to the rescue). Any other suggestions would be more than welcome – but do keep these polite!
Whatever you might call us, we were efficient, even when deciding on the menu. None of this…
‘How would you feel, on a scale of 1-10 (1 being ‘over my dead body’ and 10 being ‘bring it on, the smellier the better’), if we included gorgonzola with the cheese selection?’
‘Could you think of five words that would describe your thoughts about a chunk of smelly cheese nestled next to plump green grapes?’
‘How do you think eating a smidge of smeared gorgonzola on a cracker would affect your life going forward?’
‘After quiet introspection and reflection, should we say yes to the gorgonzola or dare to dream and choose cheddar?’
Nope. We were organised and got the job done. Then, we gathered together with our special guests over a splendid feast and a glass of bubbly to toast our official beginnings.
It was our chance to say to educators across the sector:
‘We are here. We are ready. We are listening. We are EnRich.’
