yesterday once more

Every year I learn more about the World Wars 1 and 2. Not just on Remembrance Day but through the novels and poems I teach; such as Wilfred Owen's Dulce et Decorum Est and Private Peaceful by Michael Morpurgo.  . But this year seems to be more poignant than others.

Initially I thought it was because this being the 100 years commemoration, the city is awash with more images of poppies than ever - from the striking Tower of London to the 3G's school gates and field covered in handmade poppies. Then I considered that it may have been because the news stories I have come across this week: when ITV news anchor, Charlene White, decided to explain why she didn't wear one on-air, or the tombstone of an 'un-named Negro' apparently killed in a sunken Naval ship disaster being investigated to determine his true identity and why he was not recognised with his fellow compatriots.

But whilst sharing some facts, literature and images with my classes today about the First World War and why the poppy is symbolic of remembrance, I was encouraged by the interest and discussion the teenagers maintained despite many of the children being non-British or first (possibly second) generation British born. This is a vital point because maybe as time moves on, the knowledge, artefacts and conversations about the World Wars are not as prevalent as they once were. But through novels, poetry, exhibitions, tv dramas, and poppies the atrocities of war can be remembered. That our children can learn that it is imperative we spend moments thinking of people who have suffered in wartime, be it soldier or civilian. That we acknowledge that soldiers from a range of countries fought to support the war effort.

So I think this today was a different Remembrance Day for me because as I stood in front of a class of London children, of different colours, nationalities, ages and religions, there was a shared shock at the images of life in the trenches. a disbelief that soldiers their age were fighting in no man's land and I would hope a relief that as one student put it "that won't happen, like now, innit Miss?"

And I think to myself what a wonderful world

I'd like to take a moment to let you know that I have been giddy with excitement about the London 2012 Olympics since 6th July 2005. That date is forever etched on my mind. Sitting for the zillionth time booby-feeding BigL waiting with baited breath to hear we had won the bid for the Olympics. We. Us. London. I snuggled into BigL aged 2months and desperately tried to conceive a day when she would be BigL aged 7 years; and (mumble, mumble) I would be 40. 
There have been so many stories, rumours, articles and jokes about the imminent failure of the Olympic Games in London; it's been a travesty. How could people not get excited about this amazing event that really does stop the world for two whole weeks? I have found myself in previous Olympic years whiling away hours watching sports I have no understanding of, no interest in, and no knowledge of. But somehow during the Olympics, gymnastics, dressage and rifle shooting seem to have the ability to have the whole family on the edge of our seats.

Yet here we are. 2012. I have followed the torch throughout our fair isle on the good old Beeb, I have dragged my the 3G around London to see and touch (!) the torch. I have marvelled at some of the touching and inspirational stories of the torch bearers, I have danced and cheered with the opening and closing ceremonies. I have wept with sorrow and yelled with joy at our tremendous Olympians. I have argued and reasoned with the naysayers of the success of these Games.

Those voices are now irrelevant. I have had a wonderful summer with my family being actively involved in these Olympic Games. We watched our Team GB Women Footballers beat the Brazilians at Wembley, we were back again to see the USA challenge China to Olympic Gold, and then the icing on the cake came on our trip to the Olympic Park to see the penultimate night of the athletics. What can I say? A breath-taking, sore-throat inducing, electric atmosphere and a night I will never forget.
As I sit and watch Take That sing the last song of the ceremony accompanying the extinguishing of the flame, I am filled with incredible sadness. That this is it. The 7 years of waiting is finally over.
Thank you Team GB - I feel ever so proud to be a Londoner.

Goodnight London, wherever you are.