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A life-long love of dogs, bikes, planes and photography. A newly-evolving digital artist. An academic who loves teaching but resists the neoliberal university and will soon retire, to ride across the US on a motorcycle for three months and fly vintage jet fighters

I will soon retire, I hope. I can think abut that only because we fought a greedy corporate elite to have our hard-won pensions returned to us after they stole them. I am lucky enough to have a best friend who I know I can rely on, absolutely and unconditionally, and that's a rare feeling in a febrile, unhinged world. I have a warm house, two big old motorbikes and, for now, enough good health. I lost my third dog in 2023 and may adopt another; an old, abandoned, disabled girl most likely. I prefer winter to summer, cold to hot, remote to urban and Indonesian to Indian curries.


I've lived and worked in places at war and places at peace and I miss places that are radically different from modernity. I think the world has come undone because powerful, callous, emotionally-emaciated men dominate resource distribution, at the expense of the rest of us. They are abetted and enabled by a political elite composed of crass, entitled, arrogant schoolboy buffoons and their media compatriots who between them control access to the levers of power.


It is because of this elite stranglehold on the future, that I believe that change can only come through many, probably violent, revolutions. I believe this because I believe Freire and Fanon and Malcolm X when they declared that only the oppressed understand their oppression, and only they can free themselves from it, 'by any means necessary'.



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Squadron Leader Norman Rose was the Boss of my local Air Experience Flight at RAF Woodvale in the mid-to-late 1970's. He led a a crew of World War Two RAF pilots, some of whom had flown Spitfires, Hurricanes and Typhoons, others  Mosquitos, Lancasters and Stirlings, all of whom we revered as living Gods.

Those pilots volunteered their time to fly air cadets in Chipmunks at weekends, and this needed Staff Cadets (me and a dozen or so others trained to rotate kids through aircraft flights at RAF Woodvale). From my world of domestic child abuse, there was no place safer than a vintage airplane over a freezing sea with a geriatric RAF pilot. It was the only place my stepfather couldn't reach me and I reveled in every second of it. I still have my flying logbook, almost half a century on.

Norman took me under his wing, knew about my criminal record, got me on special flights, paid me to take care of his garden when I was unemployed and did pretty much everything a real father would do. He also gave me the reference that got me into University and which changed my life after years of stagnation and drinking. I rewarded his faith in me by getting a PhD 8 years later



Norman got me to Stephen, as if they'd somehow known how I could best be helped and developed. Stephen became my tutor of choice as an undergraduate. He was much loved by all of us, with wonderful idiosyncrasies I treasure today. He fueled my focus on structural injustice -injustice caused by rules we unthinkingly follow - and then agreed to supervise a PhD. I was his greatest challenge - still a late blossomer.

Had he not died in 1998, I think he would have been rightly pleased with what I have become intellectually. He laid the groundwork by asking all the right questions and being such a well-traveled scholar. I am forever indebted to his wisdom and patience. His legacy echoes loudly in my teaching and research.


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Mum was killed age 41 by cervical cancer. I barely knew her.  Whatever love she had for me was never shown. She concealed my real father's existence and identity from me. She protected the man who abused me in the house. She knew no better or, if she did, she could be no better. There was no love in the house I was razed in. I understand why she was the way she was. There's nothing to forgive.  I hope she's at peace.

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