Grandpa Joe: You mean we’re going…
Willy Wonka: Up and out!
Grandpa Joe: But this roof is made of glass! It’ll shatter into a thousand pieces. We’ll be cut to ribbons!
Willy Wonka: Probably.
I was invited to give my first guest lecture last week: to final year students at the University of Leeds, talking about skills to help them navigate a career in the creative industries. I absolutely loved it, and not just because the exterior of the School of Fine Arts had a New York High School of Performing Arts vibe. I loved talking to the students, I loved being in their orbit, I loved being on campus… in a ‘Wouldn’t it be lovely to spend more time here and do more lecturing!’ kind of way, not a Never Been Kissed/17 Again bodyswap/time travel kind of way, I hasten to add.
One of the ideas I spoke to the students about was that of moving through our comfort zones and smashing our personal glass ceilings. And although I didn’t go into the following with them, being back in a university environment reminded me once more of my own glass ceilings, my deep-rooted childhood (and who am I kidding, adulthood) dream of following in the tap-dancing footsteps of The Kids From Fame, and the two incidents which quashed that dream.
Or rather: the two incidents I would for a long time blame for quashing that dream. Because it wasn’t until many years later that I realised I had, in my response to these events, well and truly quashed them myself.
