Sex, Lies and Red Tape (without the sex and lies)

Gosh, I hadn't realised that it had been a week since my last post. Sad, lonely person that I am, I've hardly left the apartment in the last seven days, but looking back quite a lot has still managed to happen in that time.

Firstly, the fact that I conducted the interview I was telling you about last time in my pyjamas obviously didn't count against me, as I was offered the job! It was a teaching post with the Gitxaala Nation and would have seen me working in the small community on Dolphin Island, near Prince Rupert in British Columbia. I say would have because I actually turned down the offer, since there would not also be a job for Melanie there. It would have been an interesting experience, but at least I don't now need to change the title of the blog, and I don't need to go through the laborious process of applying for a teaching permit in B.C.

Now, I love living in Canada, but the way the education system is run over here continues to be one of my great frustrations. Education is run provincially, rather than federally, and is a perfect example of how Canada, whilst technically a single entity, is in reality a collection of thirteen independent nations, each with their own identity and approach. This provincial structure should not in itself be a problem, but the provinces simply do not talk to each other, and what is already a bloated and overly-bureaucratic process consequently becomes all the more frustrating.

I could just about handle the fact that my thirteen years of teaching experience in the UK counted for very little when I first came over to Canada. I was new to the country and, despite having the same queen on our currency, I had to prove to the Ontario College of Teachers (OCT) that I had the qualifications I claimed I had. I had to provide proof that I had the 'O' and 'A' levels that I said I had, I had to provide original transcripts from my universities to prove that I'd passed my degrees and I then had to provide proof that I was actually a certified and registered teacher, which of course I couldn't be in the first place without having passed all the exams which I'd already had to prove I'd passed!

Then, I had to apply to another, entirely separate, body - the Qualifications Evaluation Council of Ontario (QECO) - who would decide what pay scale I would be on when, and if, I found gainful employment. They needed much of the same information that I'd already sent to the OCT, but do the two organizations communicate with each other? Of course not! I had to submit everything again myself. Eventually, QECO decides how much you will be paid, and you are then finally able to start teaching properly if, as an 'outsider', you can actually force your way into the virtual closed shop that is run by the school boards, but that's a story for another time.

However, that's not the end of it, because as I mentioned earlier, the provinces don't talk to each other. Each province has their own equivalent of the OCT and QECO, and if you want to work in a different province, YOU HAVE TO GO THROUGH THE SAME PROCESS AGAIN! Did you notice that I wrote that last bit in capitals? That's because I'm frustrated. I can see absolutely no logic behind this process, and if anyone actually can then I'd love them to explain it to me.

OK, sorry about that; rant over now. I was also going to write about how the cable guy came round this week - not Jim Carey, but a real cable guy - and how Michael Jackson's death must have really annoyed the backroom staff in the newsrooms who had spent days preparing tribute reels for Farrah Fawcett, but there isn't time now. The concluding part of Impact is about to start, and Earth only has 39 days left before the Moon crashes into it. Of course, that is unless a crack group of scientists, led by the unlikely, yet robust, figure of Natasha Henstridge, can come up with a plan.

For the Earth's sake, I just hope they don't need to get their qualifications ratified first.