Letter from the Editor

I recently was lucky enough to enjoy a couple of days at the snow with my wife, Claudia, and some friends of ours. She had been skiing once before, whilst living abroad at the age of 6 or 7, thus, going to the snow in 2025 was pretty much her first time again. Let's be pretty clear though, I'm no snow fanatic either. In fact, the last time I got to ski, I was working in a completely different career, and standing in front of a classroom teaching 'Peter Senge's Learning Organisation' to Year 12 business students was a big step away from my then expected life adventures.

I will preface this story with the fact that my wife is still talking to me. Interestingly, over our 48 hours of time at the snow, I think my wife realised why I had ended up a teacher. I had the task of (re)teaching her how to ski. She didn't need a lesson, she'd skiied when she was 6, and in my mind, it would be just like riding a bike... although instead of a bike it was two planks of wood strapped to your feet on a perilously steep and very slipery mountain. What. Could. Go. Wrong.

Sometimes we forget, when something comes naturally, how challenging it can be to explain to a novice. Especially when it comes to body movements and feelings/ sensations that you are trying to get someone else to understand. To my relief, Clauds was a great student. She listened carefully, asked questions if I said something she didn't understand or didn't grasp and tried to implement the 'theory' of skiing I was explaining to her. I spent half the time following her down the mountain, shouting instructions like "turn harder," "keep your eyes up" and "watch out for that tree." All very important instructions, whilst supporting her in close proximity.

The highlight of my day was getting down a ski run, and turning around to see a broad smile and overwhelming sense of acomplisment. We celebrated on the chairlift, discussing what went well, where she was still uncomfortable and how we'd overcome the tricker bits of skiing.

It would be remiss of me not to notice the parallels between skiing and my Year 7 maths class. In many ways, learning maths is very much like skiing. We stand at the top of a run, equipped with the tools to reach the bottom. Throughout the run, instructors keep a close eye on the learner, offering helpful advice as students navigate obstacles along the way. And if something goes wrong, we're there to help them back on their feet, encouraging them to try again and build confidence.

As we descend further and the student grows more comfortable with the skills, we give them more room to maneuver, allowing them to work independently and achieve on their own. Finally, at the end of the learning journey, we celebrate the wins with our students.

I'm not sure going to the snow is high on the priority list just yet. Instead, if I need my fix, I'll pop the airconditioning on and have a hot chocolate and watch some Steven Bradbury highlights.

Jack Lynch

Editor