A while back I was in a situation to overhear a bunch of South African boys school students beg their teacher to allow them out later to party in Berlin. Amazingly, every second word used by these boys was Sir: Please, sir? Of course sir! May we sir? Sir yes sir.
Last weekend I started teaching an embroidery course, which seemed to run reasonably well. The biggest problem was that I have really no reference points for where beginners are and how much time they need. I mean, I was about eight when my mother made me pick up a small pointy stick and stitch (actually I was about five when I got the large pointy stick to stitch with, but my baby-poo brown knitting attempts are best left to be forgotten by history). So knowing how to thread a needle, tie a knot, stick the pointy end through the fabric? These basic things are organic, I don't even realise that they're things that NEED to be taught.
So it was an interesting afternoon, but I think I dealt with it all reasonably well and everyone seemed happy with their work at the end. And because I had underestimated the time involved, I already have next weeks prepared.
But it's a little wierd to realise that after years of being the black sheep, I've been pulled into the family business. So to speak. My sister started a career in the same organisation as my father, my brother became a chef while my mother was a cooking teacher. And a sewing teacher. I guess you can't avoid parental influences after all.