Something about Jennifer

Eighteen years ago, I agreed to cover an adult numeracy course for a friend who wanted to take a term out. I had no qualifications or training for adult numeracy work; things were different then. That term was like a breath of fresh air and a flood of illumination: every student (though there were no certificates or qualifications at the end) wanted to be there, was absolutely committed, and saw their course as totally relevant to their own life. After the term was over, I had considerably altered the future path of my life – and I owe that Damascene enlightenment to the students.

One student was Jennifer (not, of course, her real name). She came to the class in early middle age, unable to do much more than count; her target was to be able to check her change in the supermarket and thus take control of her life. Her courage in the face of maths fear was inspirational; and so was the joy on her face was she achieved her objective.

Today I was visiting a community college and heard my name called as I crossed the quad. It was Jennifer, sitting at a table in the sunlight, reading a book. We exchanged “good to see you again” pleasantries, and I asked what she was up to these days.

«I'm a maths lecturer here», she said.

It’s the sort of moment that makes everything worth while.