Know what? The kids are alright, when we give them a chance
As a grumpy old lefty, I tend to find the crowds I wind up in are full of angry people waving placards, some of which are misspelt and at least one will have an apostrophe which is either totally unnecessary or in the wrong place.
Both crimes should be punishable by transportation to the Carolinas, in my opinion. Well, we probably did in the past, which is why our dear American friends have a very poor grasp of the proper use of the comma and sent Captain Kirk into space with a split infinitive.
I do recall somehow getting mixed up in a march by primary school teachers. Now that was a much better class of placard. Beautifully spelled and I commended the use of glitter and poster paint. I was also impressed by the constant health and safety calls of ‘Watch out, there’ and ‘take care crossing this road’. Well, primary school teachers are on constant trip alert, I imagine. They need eyes in the back of their heads. I’m surprised they didn’t line everyone up and insist that everyone buddy up and take hands.
The atmosphere at big protest rallies like this is usually pretty miffed, although the comrades usually try to cheer things up with a song or two. This can be a high-risk strategy by the organisers. I recall a chap with an accordion. When I say ‘recall’, I mean as in PTSD flashbacks. I think he played ‘La Marseillaise' at one point. No idea why. It wasn’t like we were trying to annoy the French or anything. Trust me, had anyone in French authority heard what he did to their anthem, a couple of Mirages would have been blasting over Arthur’s Seat before he’d finished murdering the final chorus.
Last week I was invited to join Edinburgh Napiers Graduation Day. They hold them at the Usher Hall. It’s a huge series of events. Napier, like most of Scotland’s universities, can’t just do all their graduates in one day. They split them up into their schools, and I was there to be part of the School of Health and Social Care graduation.
I found myself in a huge crowd quite unlike any I have ever stood in. There were hundreds of young people, mainly women, dressed to the absolute nines, rocking high heels, Doc Martens and glittery trainers. There were a few lads, and some wore kilts under the robes. There were the mums, the dads, the aunties, uncles and grannies. Everyone looked amazing and just thrilled to be there.
It felt like a total joy-bomb had landed in Edinburgh, and Ground Zero was the Usher Hall. Waves of happy enthusiasm washed out and over Lothian Road. Complete strangers looked at each other and smiled.
Two lovely American ladies were waiting to cross beside the Filmhouse. What, they asked me, was going on? Well, I said, one of Scotland’s finest universities is having its graduation today. Ah, they said, we saw something like that when we were in Cambridge. “Oh?” I said. “They’ve got a university there? Obviously they’ve just copied us.” I do enjoy a bit of mischief now and then. It was a privilege to stand there and soak in the atmosphere. They are Scotland’s future. You know what? The kids are alright, when we give them a chance.