Thoughtful Tuesdays: Borrowed Experience

By Eithne Cullen

Welcome to April’s Thoughtful Tuesday page. If you’re familiar with my page, you’ll know it tends to have plenty of poetry and fiction. For this edition, I’ve decided to go a little off course and I’m able to use some submissions which cover non-fiction themes. With our new theme of ‘Borrowed’ I’ve decided to borrow some other people’s experiences and ideas for today’s page.

You’ll know me as a poet and you know I love publishing poetry on my page. So you might say, “Now, what about April being National Poetry Month?” Well, I’ll be putting together an audio piece for our Write On! Audio podcast Listener Contribution in April, so we can celebrate poetry in that way.

The first piece I’m sharing comes from Pen to Print writer Rebecca Seaton. She’s a successful Pen to Print Book Challenger, a frequent contributor to the magazine and has written about her work and her own experience.

You’ll probably have heard a lot on the news and in conversations in the media about the future of Special Educational Needs and Disability provision (called SEND in the jargon) and how there are many concerns around future changes. Here, Rebecca gives us her insight into the provision she’s involved with in her ‘normal’ working life.

The 3 Rs Of SEND

As a teacher of children with special needs, I’ve learnt it’s really important to focus on the three Rs. No, not reading writing and arithmetic…

Resilience

We’re always told children and teachers should have resilience. Used badly, this guidance becomes something to bash both with: overloading people then crying, ‘Be more resilient’ doesn’t fix anything. But building it in steps, gradually extending stamina in an area, is empowering. For children with social, emotional and mental health needs, it might be gradually relinquishing control; while for children with cognitive needs it might be more about slowly gaining confidence in a task they find difficult. Building resilience slowly enables short wins and success leads to greater conviction that the next steps are possible.

Relationship

Resilience needs trust, which is founded on positive relationships. In order to take risks and step out, we have to trust those around us. Workplaces stagnate if people are too scared to make mistakes; the same is true of children’s education. Working with SEND children can often mean working with children who don’t trust easily. When trying to build relationships, it’s important we’re honest, observant and allow time. Children remember when we take note of their interests, apologise for our mistakes and notice their improvements. It will just take that bit longer before they trust it enough to acknowledge it, especially if they’ve been let down by adults before.

Reassurance

If someone has special educational needs, they are likely very conscious of what they cannot do. It is the job of those working with them to remind them of what they can do. I once worked with a boy who really struggled with Maths and English but had phenomenal practical skills, both in PE activities and in co-ordinating practical tasks for others. He left years ago but his input lives on in the garden he helped put together, carrying heavy materials and organising things in a way which I never could have. He needed the kind words specifically praising his actions. Children on the autism spectrum or with learning needs might need a reassuring gesture or visual reminder. But they all need someone to have faith in them.

Are my three Rs as important as the typical three? Yes, and so are the traditional three. The academic and social aren’t binary but complementary. Seeing the people beyond the performance data goes a long way to ensuring lasting learning,

© Rebecca Seaton, 2026

Connect with Rebecca on Facebook: Rebecca Lucy Seaton Author, X: @Bectacular40 and Instagram: @rebecca.seaton.9

Thank you for this insight, Rebecca! It’s obvious you’re committed to your role, and committed to sharing your expertise.

*****

I loved this next piece by Andrea Cunha, a writer who is fast becoming a Write On! favourite. Here, she links taste to memory and what we long for.

The Flavour Of Longing

For me, the last Ramadan wasn’t just a period of fasting and prayer; it was a journey through time. Between February and March, the days arrived laden with a sweet and profound nostalgia. For someone navigating the recent grief of losing a father to lung cancer, coupled with the physical distance from one’s homeland, the silence of the fast makes room for voices from the past we insist on never forgetting.

It all began in the kitchen. Without planning to, I found myself revisiting recipes to recreate dishes from my childhood. These were the meals my father loved and the ones my children, now grown up, used to adore helping me prepare and taste.

For an immigrant, the palate is the fastest passport to what we left behind. Even though I am content with my life on British soil, ‘melancholic longing’ is a constant shadow. I remember my first day of work here: a table spread with a full English breakfast, yet my eyes saw only a small cocadinha (a Brazilian coconut sweet), brought in by a colleague.

That sweet wasn’t just sugar and coconut; it was the scent of my grandmother’s house. I could smell her kitchen and hear her affectionate scoldings because I wanted to eat the treats while they were still hot and soft. At that moment, I decided not to eat it. I kept the box, tucked away the memory and gave it to my husband, transforming a piece of longing into a gesture of present love.

This sensory immersion made me reflect: what do these moments do to a child? Almost 15 years later, my children and a childhood friend still remember simple scenes we shared, like the day they all helped me prepare famous Brazilian snacks, such as coxinha and cheese balls.

As an enthusiastic educator, I realise these memories aren’t just recollections; they are cerebral architecture. Positive sensory experiences, the smell of a cake, the touch of an embrace, form neural connections that build emotional security. A child who feels loved and secure learns better.

We often seek the causes of educational difficulties only in books or pedagogy, forgetting that learning flourishes in emotional soil. Deep roots of affection create balanced adults; roots of trauma, unfortunately, can create invisible cognitive obstacles.

The marks we leave on others are eternal. Therefore, my invitation is for us to look at our parents, children, husbands, wives and friends with more intention. May every meal, every aroma, and every gesture of care be treated as the construction of an emotional heritage.

In the end, what we take from life and what we leave behind are these sweet memories that are a joy to revisit, like a warm cocada that scents both the room and the soul.

(c) Andrea Cunha, 2026

Connect with Andrea on LinkedIn: linkedin.com/in/andrea-souza-da-cunha

*****

My final prose piece is from Pen to Print regular, Vic Howard. He always submits such relatable pieces of writing. There’s so much here for anyone – whether you’re a Londoner or not – to relate to. My mother brought us up to speak properly, even correcting my grammar when I was fully grown! It was her belief that, “Every time we speak, someone judges us.” This is important for clear, grammatically-correct speech as much as speaking like someone ill-informed!

Vic’s piece reflects on a lot of change he’s seen and experienced over his lifetime and, interestingly, he’s looking at the way people borrow accents.

It Ain’t What It Used To Be

Despite frequently saying I was born in the wrong place at the wrong time, I have to admit to missing my old love: London. It’s a slight stretch of the imagination, but I also like to call myself a Cockney and is still the accent I most enjoy hearing. But there’s a problem: Cockney used to be unfashionable and was only spoken by East Enders and South Londoners. Then, for some strange reason, youngsters who were better educated and who normally spoke RP English, suddenly started speaking with what they thought was Cockney. I thought it sounded more Mockney than Cockney.

I believe it was the brilliant young violinist Nigel Kennedy who started the trend, but it could have other roots. Maybe it grew out of the fact that City of London banks started employing young Cockneys to speculate on the stock exchange, using methods more suitable to street market trading than stock exchange trading. They were very successful and threw their money around like confetti. No wonder their way of speaking became popular amongst the Sloane Rangers of the West End!

Other groups started jumping on the bandwagon and actors who had spent years at RADA losing their normal accent in order to speak Received Pronunciation, suddenly remembered their roots.  A few genuine Cockney actors laid it on even thicker and became famous for their Shakespearean performances; making the great Lawrence Olivier and his generation suddenly sound old fashioned.

Meanwhile, in the east of London other versions of Cockney started to develop, which sounded more like a whine. This was called ‘Estuary speak’ and was not attractive to my ears. My dad was born just outside of the King George Vth Dock, where his father had been a sergeant in the PLA Police. Dad and the dockers he managed in later years spoke the clear unpolished language I love so much and which is sadly in decline. If you want to hear really good Cockney, well spoken, watch some of Roger Bisley’s videos on YouTube. It isn’t littered with roundtheouses or applesnpears rhyming slang but has a clarity easy to listen to. Tommy Steele in his heyday spoke with a similar accent.

Having lived abroad for 50 years, I now speak a sort of standard, ordinary English when on my best behaviour. Fortunately, my Swedish wife learned my mother tongue when we first married and lived in Barking for a number of years. She arrived speaking perfect English and had to relearn it, due to the fact that nobody else in Barking spoke that well. I have to admit to hearing myself use the odd dickydirt or trousis and my Hs and Ts live dangerously too –sometimes at home – but I’ve lost the true sound.

Regional accents are the lifeblood of a language. It would be terrible if everybody sounded like royalty giving a speech. The odd thing is that every region thinks they have no accent and that everybody else does. I first discovered this when on holiday with a friend in my youth. We met two girls from Solihull while in Spain, who thought we Londoners spoke with a funny accent. Then my best mate in the army, who came from Sheffield, liked to remind me that there was no ‘r’ in bath.

The major city accents have held their ground, but many of the more regional country accents have faded. I was once in a country pub in north Essex and found the locals impossible to understand. That wouldn’t happen today. My aunt Bertha came from Suffolk and never lost her accent, which was quite different from the Norfolk accent spoken a few miles north. Both are now rarely heard.

I’m fairly well travelled and can understand most people these days, but when I visited Newcastle, I was defeated and had to hold out my hand full of cash and let the assistant at the airport bar take what he was asking for. I had become a foreign tourist in my own country!

© Vic Howard, 2025

*****

Finally, thanks to all who have contributed to this page. I’ve enjoyed reading my choices.

*****

Issue 27, featuring eco-poet Sarah Westcott is out now. You will be able to find it in libraries and other outlets. Alternatively, all current and previous editions can be found on our magazines page here. 

You can hear great new ideas, creative work and writing tips on Write On! Audio. Find us on all major podcast platforms, including Apple and Google Podcasts and Spotify. Type Pen to Print into your browser and look for our logo or find us on Spotify.  

*****

If you or someone you know has been affected by issues covered in our pages, please see the relevant link below for ​information, advice and support​: