The countdown to the summer holidays has begun.
 
Teachers up and down the country are already dreaming of a long stretch of time without having to mark homework, plan lessons, drink bad coffee or endure mind-numbingly boring conversations with the Jeremy Corbyn look-a-like Geography teacher who smells like a drunk gypsy. And that’s just the ones who enjoy their profession.
 
Another chunk are desperately hoping that the holidays will miraculously produce a new position at the perfect school, or even a job offer that promises a way out of teaching. Failing that, a winning lottery ticket will do just fine thank you headmistress.
 
Why the unhappiness? Well, a survey last year by a teachers’ union found that four out of ten teachers have experienced violence at the hands of their pupils in the past year. Out of that group, 77% said they had been pushed, and around half were kicked or had an object thrown at them.
 
The sad truth is that many teachers don’t go into school thinking about education. They’re far more concerned with self-preservation.
 
Contrast this with other countries, and the picture is even more depressing. OECD research shows that Poland, for example, has much less of student discipline issue. On average, teachers in Poland say that the percentage of lesson time lost to disruptive student behaviour is relatively low compared to somewhere like the UK. So this isn’t even a universal problem that the UK is suffering.
 
This is a national scandal that no one outside the teaching profession seems to care about any more.
 
What’s more, it’s having a serious effect on teaching. We are reaching a crisis point in teacher retention and recruitment. And there’s no doubt that unruly children is one of the reasons behind it.
 
The consequences of this exodus are frightening. You think fake news is bad now? We’re in danger of producing successive generations of feral youths who think that Algebra is a country in the Middle East and that Copernicus is the name of an obscure hip hop artist.
 
The solution to this is obvious. We must whip the scallywags into shape. However, as any former Education minister will tell you, our options are limited.
 
A soft approach, such as trying to appeal to some of these ruffians by warning them that they are throwing their futures away is not going to cut it – many of them are simply too immature to care. And as for their parents, well, hordes of them would rather be checking what’s happening on Facebook or updating their Instagram accounts than making sure that their children are doing their homework and not uploading inappropriate photos of themselves on Snapchat.
 
Increasing punishments, whether that be by segregating disruptive pupils or quicker expulsion, is probably not going to do much, apart from push the problem into a dangerous corner. And bringing back the cane or other similar methods of keeping children in line is only going to haul whoever suggests it in front of the European Court of Human Rights.
 
So since you cannot – literally or metaphorically – beat the lawlessness out of these ruffians, you have to get them to beat it out of themselves.
 
Nobody does this better than the Chinese. They are masters at tiring their students out to the point where they have the right amount of energy to concentrate in class, but not enough to become disruptive. One of the ways they do this is by getting them to do daily, early morning exercise. But I’m not talking about not any old exercise. No, I’m talking about martial arts training.
 
One institution in particular, the Tagou Martial Arts school, has its students stretching, kicking, and punching as the Sun rises. We need to be taking a leaf out of this institution’s book and photocopying it a hundred thousand times over in every school up and down the country.
 
Now you may be thinking to yourself, ‘Hang on a minute. This is utter madness. The scoundrels will now be even better at hitting their teachers’. But bear with me.
 
The first thing a scallywag will learn is to respect their fellow students and teachers. If they don’t, then two things will happen. One, they will be forced to spend an hour or two pumping out press-ups in the corner of the training hall. This gets pretty boring and very painful after a short while. And two, if they continue to misbehave, then they will have to watch their fellow students improving their skills and having fun. They will soon realise that they’re missing out on something that is enjoyable and addictive.
 
After that, they will taught to be humble. After getting consistently dumped on their backsides by senior practitioners, they will soon realise how much they have to learn. And when they truly discover how horrible real fighting can be, then they will shy away from it at school and out on the streets.
 
Finally, they will find that pursuing something with a focussed mind, in other words perseverance, is worth it. As they start to kick higher, punch harder, or throw faster then they will change, a little bit at a time, as a person. Seeing yourself develop by becoming more supple, stronger, and able to absorb more pain, cannot fail to imprint itself on your character in a positive way, leading to better behaviour in school.
 
But the main benefit will be to teachers and schools in general. The punks will be too tired to cause any trouble. It’s pretty hard to attack a teacher when you can hardly get up off your seat because you’ve got legs that feel like jelly.
 
Our teachers are crying out for help and it’s time for radical action. This is it.
 
Marek Handzel’s novel, The Dojang, is available now at Amazon 
 
 
 
 
 

According to some reports, Donald Tusk almost shed a few tears when he announced that the UK had formally triggered Article 50 on 29 March.
 
“We will miss you,” said Mr. Tusk, pausing for dramatic effect (or because he’d forgotten his lines temporarily). I’ve watched the video of the former Polish Premier’s statement to the press and as far as I can tell, at some points he looks like he’s about to start laughing, so I don’t know where the idea that he was about to weep came from. Perhaps he was thinking about all those billions from Westminster that are about to disappear from the coffers in Brussels and was on the verge of sobbing before he remembered one of man’s greatest adages ­– if you don’t laugh then you’ll cry.
 
Whatever was going on inside his head, I’m glad that he didn’t have to reach for his Louis Vuitton silk handkerchief.
 
Crying in public is no longer a big no-no for men of course. Whether we’re happy or sad, everyone’s doing it. Actors when they pick up an Oscar, footballers when they miss a penalty, celebrities who get a ‘10’ in Strictly Come Dancing.
 
It’s got out of control. We’re becoming emotional wrecks. The worst thing about it is that it also means that we’re losing all perspective on the value of things. If we’re crying when someone sings a nice song on some throwaway TV talent show as well as when our first-born child appears on earth, for example, then we’ve got serious issues. There is no comparison between the two events, but our reaction to them is almost identical. It’s ridiculous.
 
I’m just as guilty of it as the next man.
 
I’ve been known to get teary watching sports teams sing their national anthems, from the Andorran handball team to Zambia’s wrestling squad. I’ve cried when my wife has turned up to relieve me from babysitting duties. I even sobbed like a baby when some American musician died when I was a teenager (although I blame my fluctuating hormones at the time for that one).
 
But I’ve decided to man up. It’s got too much. How can I possibly start to get my five-year old to realise that he doesn’t have to cry whenever he doesn’t get his way if I start bawling when the love songs show starts playing on Radio 2?
 
I now take my cue from my Dziadzio whose eyes were only ever moist when some of the longer strands of hair from his wig tickled his eyelids. And that would only be at Christmas or on his name day, when he actually wore his hairpiece.
 
Modern thinking is that if men don’t provide a valve for their emotions then they’re in danger of storing all their pain inside and getting depressed, or even worse, suicidal. And there are plenty of Sigmund Freud’s disciples who will tell you that keeping sadness to yourself could lead to violence, or some other equally unlawful behaviour.
 
I don’t doubt that this is mostly true, but there are better, and more productive, ways for men to release their feelings.
 
So when I think I could be welling up, I take immediate action. I go and do some gardening, chop some wood, or scrub the car tyres until my shoulders burn and I can see my dry and clear eyes in the hubcaps. And if I don’t have any jobs that need doing, then there’s always good old-fashioned exercise. Hitting a punch bag or running to the shop to buy some tissues for your wife after she’s watched another episode of Call the Midwife will both improve your mood and help you live longer.
 
Now I’m not saying that men should never cry. Of course not. It’s perfectly acceptable (as I mentioned earlier) to cry at the two most important events in life: when a child is born, and when a close relative or friend passes on. But that’s about it.
 
Most people would call this an excessively macho stance to adopt. I prefer to call it the long-lost art of stoicism, which, as it happens, is still practiced in some countries, and to very good effect.
 
Take the Japanese. They are the masters of self-control and fortitude. Most Japanese men would rather stick chopsticks in their eyeballs than express any strong emotions in front of others. It is an attitude that has helped them immensely when overcoming adversity.
 
A serious amount of Japanese lost their lives during the Second World War, including tens of thousands of poor souls who were wiped out in the horrible nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The country was crippled after ending up on the losing side. And yet, by the 1970s, Japan was the second largest economy in the world, behind its old enemy, the USA.
 
The country didn’t achieve this success by having a prolonged collective national period of mourning, although it could have been forgiven for doing so. No, it did so by accepting defeat and moving on.
 
They did the same after the earthquake in 2011 that led to the Fukushima nuclear disaster. One British aid worker who went to visit the country after the devastating natural disaster was truly amazed by the stoicism of the Japanese. He did not see a single person cry while he was there.
 
"It was incredible,” he said. “The way you saw very little sign of emotion in people […] If every country were as efficient as them, then we wouldn't have to worry so much about disasters.”
 
His tale is a powerful one. It almost brings a tear to the eye…

This post first was first published in Tydzien Polski

When on earth does President Trump get the time to nap?
 
I only ask because he seems to be packing a lot into his days at the moment. Signing executive orders, tearing up trade agreements, upsetting all those poor sensitive souls in the media, calling Putin for his regular catch-ups, scouring the internet for fake news, styling his hair… the man never stops.
 
With such a busy schedule, it’s unlikely that he gets the time to lie down on the couch in the Oval Office. And if that is the case, then I would expect his closest confidants to be a little worried. He is 70, after all. But seeing as he is from New York – the city that apparently never sleeps – perhaps he feels that he doesn’t need a nap. That, however, would be a grave mistake.
 
All Mr. Trump has to do is look back at how some of history’s most hard-pressed leaders have benefited from enjoying some much-needed sleep during the day. Winston Churchill, JFK, and Ronald Reagan are just a handful of powerful men who put great faith in some afternoon rest. And I’m sure Mr. Trump would agree that they had more to contend with than he currently does. Building a wall at the Mexican border and installing travel bans hardly equate to battling Hitler or keeping a lid on the Red Menace.
 
But it’s not just Prime Ministers, Presidents and megalomaniac Emperors that need to catch a bit of shut-eye in the afternoon. Of course, children and the elderly benefit from sleeping during the day. But if the truth be told, then most of us need to sleep after lunch.  
 
Aviva, the insurance company, conducted a survey last year, which found that one in four adults in the UK would like to sleep better at night, making the UK the world’s most sleep deprived nation. Things are so bad that two in five people claim to be too tired to exercise.
 
I would classify myself as one of those people who does not get enough sleep. Taking a leaf out of my father’s book, I regularly have a weekend drzemka, either on the sofa or in the passenger seat of the car. My wife isn’t always best pleased that I decide to drift off on an afternoon, but when the children have worn me out and I’ve had a heavy lunch, then what option do I have? And anyway, napping is good for you.
 
According to the National Sleep Foundation in America, naps boost alertness and improve performance. There’s just a slight catch. You can’t just drift off and wake up whenever you want. You have to time it right.
 
A 20-minute snooze, which is called a ‘stage two’ nap by the slumber experts at the foundation, is ideal if you want to enhance your motor skills and attention. If you stay asleep for longer, ideally between an hour to 90 minutes, then you drift into Rapid Eye Movement (REM) sleep, which can help you solve any creative problems you’ve been having. This latter point seems to have been proved by many ingenious men, such as Thomas Edison. A serial napper, he managed to dream up with the light bulb and the motion picture, as well as over a thousand other inventions.
 
Anything in between those two time periods however, and you end up waking up groggy and grumpy. But it’s not just important that you set your alarm when napping. You also need close your eyes at the right time – between 1:00pm and 3:00pm. That’s because your blood sugar and energy start to dip after lunch.
 
I would also recommend that you fall asleep in the right environment. A book usually works, as does having the radio softly crackling away in the background. Watching the television is also a sure-fire soporific activity. Especially if you’re tuned into a channel showing the House of Lords debating Trump’s State visit to the UK.
 
Despite all the clear benefits that can be gained from dozing during the day, Mariano Rajoy, the Spanish Prime Minister, threatened Spain with a siesta ban last year. In a quite remarkable speech, he talked of wanting to shorten the working day so that workers could get home earlier. His also explained that he wanted to get rid of the three-hour “disruption” that the Spanish economy “suffers” from in the afternoon.
 
Given everything that President Trump stands for, it’s understandable, although unfortunate, that he may not want to entertain the idea of a nap. But the idea of a Mediterranean political leader wanting to strip his electorate of their right to forty winks is simply unconscionable.
 
How on earth he got elected for a second term with policy ideas like that, I have no idea.
 
This post first appeared in Tydzien Polski
 
 
 

​​When do you take your Christmas tree down?
 
When I was a young boy growing up in London we always left our tree up until the start of February. Most of our neighbours got rid of their trees on, or around, New Year’s Day. Some even started taking down their decorations on Boxing Day, whereas our mother would still be brushing up needles off the floor when they were buying up their first Easter eggs.
 
As far as our family was concerned, Christmas started on 24 December when the family gathered for Wigilia, and lasted until Candlemas, 40 days later.
 
Technically speaking, that’s the right way to do it. Christmas ends in a liturgical sense on 6 January – when the Church celebrates the day that the Star of Bethlehem led the Three Kings to the crib and the Baptism of Christ. But as a time of celebration, it doesn’t end until 2 February. This means that the Church celebrates the Child Jesus for a full 40 days, just like She remembers Christ being in the desert for 40 days during Lent, and commemorates Easter for 40 days, until the feast of the Ascension.
 
Here in the UK though, most people have got it the wrong way round. As soon as the first Christmas pop songs start blaring out in the shops, everyone starts indulging like we’re about to undergo a major famine. And just how many Christmas parties does the average person have these days before they open the presents under the tree? There’s the official Christmas office party, then there’s one for old school friends, your close-knit group of friends, the people from your sports club/hobby group… the list just goes on.
 
As far as the vast majority of the population is concerned, the season to be jolly starts on 1st December and ends with the last mince pie on 25th December.

So when it comes to Boxing Day, it’s no wonder that so many people are ready to start some ridiculous alcohol-free vegan detox programme.
 
This has all happened because Advent has been sacrificed on the dual altar of consumerism and secularism. And paradoxically, it has resulted in the true Christmas season being completely eclipsed by a dark brooding period called the January Blues. And what does this time consist of? Frustration at already broken New Year resolutions, maxed out credit card bills, guilt about overindulgence, a general sense of emptiness. In short, a recipe for depression.
 
So not only is the inversion of Christmas wrong, it’s actually bad for us too.
 
Health experts have a more technical name for the January Blues. They call it seasonal affective disorder (SAD). Apparently it affects around 2 million people in the UK.
 
SAD experts have suggested a number of remedies to the condition including staying warm; eating healthily; getting plenty of light; singing; and seeing your friends and family. Now I don't know about you, but all of that sounds a lot like Christmas to me.
 
Now imagine what life would be like if everyone celebrated Christmas in January.
 
Every high street and house would be lit up with decorations, giving off plenty of therapeutic light and Christmas spirit.
 
You’d have a larger window (26th December – 2nd February) during which to organise your Christmas meals with your various social groups. So it would be easier to get a table. You’d also probably be able to get all sorts of good deals from restaurants that would be desperate to get customers through their doors after a quiet Advent.
 
You would also have plenty of time to see your extended family, rather than making the excuse that you can’t possibly fit everyone in between Christmas and New Year’s Day. You could all get cosy in front of the Christmas tree with a large glass of mulled wine, sing carols together and reminisce. Before you know it, you’ll be smiling from ear to ear with all those good oxytocin hormones flowing through your being.
 
There will also be plenty of opportunities to eat well. What, after all, is healthier than a steaming bowl of bigos? Or a large serving of leftover turkey stuffed pierogi, packed full of enough protein to propel Mariusz Pudzonowski back onto the World’s Strongest Man’s winning podium?
 
But wouldn’t everyone feel just as deflated once it was over in February as they would do in January, I hear you ask?
 
I’m not sure that they would. The celebrations would have gone on for so long that people would probably welcome a few days of quiet contemplation. The nights start getting shorter too and Lent is just round the corner, which is the doorway to another time of celebration and the first signs of Spring.
 
I’m convinced it’s the way forward. Anyone want to join me in giving it a try?
 
 This post first appeared in Tydzien Polski