Chapter 2

The story develops as we are introduced to the providers and the challenges

Chapter 2: Groundwork

The course usually started with some team building action-based games, but three weeks previously Rich began his mission as he usually did, by calling in to the local college. He was a freelance trainer, previous students would bear witness he was a good communicator with a safe reputation. Co-workers said he had an infectious enthusiasm that few could claim to match. It was clear he loved the work he did, he always promoted an open-horizon outlook, scanning for opportunities and always reading the best in people. He worked well on his own, but even better within and especially leading a team. The college machine liked his services because he had experience, he thought outside the box, and did more than he was asked without complaint, but some thought this was his Achilles heel, courting jealousy and all kinds of trouble with antagonists.

Rich glanced at the College as he got out of his car. The College was a tired old building that should’ve been demolished and replaced. The dimly lit corridors smelled of damp disinfectant, but only because the cleaner had just spilled her bucket and was mopping it up. Most people felt the grubby walls reflected the establishment that managed it; stuffy, distant and detached. The Management liked to pretend they were good at what they did. Poorly designed posters boasted false statistics like ‘87% of students enjoy being at this College’. Acting up and jumping through hoops when the inspectors called, but falling down on real results. Even worse; using creative accounting when it came to achievements and accolades, Rich tried to spend as little time as he could there.

Rich worked for an educational partnership, the legacy of a miss-guided government social generation plan. He delivered a social skills development program, which was cohesion between local colleges and local charities. It had good intentions, trying to pick up the so called 'dregs' of society, students who‘d attended ten years of mainstream education, but still couldn’t pass an exam to prove they’d learned anything.

The Rock was a good name for a charity targeting people 'lost in a sea of discrimination and inequality' as Rich once metaphorically described. It was something solid and tangible for the lost to reach out for, and cling to for survival. The Course Director also described it as a resting place, to catch your breath, gain strength, build courage, and then a platform to dive back and swim on to your final destination. The charity was initially set up by a small group of kind hearted religious wealthy benefactors. They’d used a local church hall for soup runs, a newsletter and a community youth club. With the best intentions and great expectations, they’d jumped at a chance to get involved helping 'strays' to get out of the gutter with real qualifications, and real-life work experiences.

In order to gain certificates, the College would provide educational materials, support and scrutiny of the work. The Rock provided the moral guidance, the connections to the supporting charities and employment for the course director and his assistant. Rich got on well with The Rock Trustees, they were supportive and trusting. The management at the College were the complete opposite; there was no trust, receipts had to be numbered, documents counter signed. They were always looking for an opportunity to be devious and claim credit for things they weren’t responsible for. Rich despised it, but he had to check in with them to find out what expectations, support, and what barriers were likely to get in the way.

Rich hurried along the grimy corridor, checking room numbers as he moved along. The planning meeting was in a room he’d not visited before; the college never had any consistency. The Youth Leader believed it was all mind games, like when they sat on higher chairs at meetings, and looked down on him to try and impose some better than you atmosphere. Rich was strong in character, and often won arguments with Health and Safety interventions. Including the infamous occasion when the college wrongly said it was okay for his students to work without protective equipment, as 'it was only a short course'. Rich won that time, but at the end of the day, the college held the purse strings, and usually dictated the financial budgets.

He eventually found the room, knocked on the door, and entered. Rich observed the tables and chairs had been rearranged from what was obviously its usual layout. The grubby-footfall-footprint on the floor, was not the same as the table layout that presented him. Sitting on the highest chair at the higher table was the Program Director Gillian. She had the atmosphere of a Duchess, and rarely got involved in the actual management; although Rich was convinced she controlled others like puppets in a marionette show. Next to her sat the Challenging Student Department Manager Sophie, a middle aged, manipulative, hard individual. Also from the college, sitting at the side of their desk like an unwelcome relative was a random departmental secretary taking notes. Adjoining but not facing, the head table was a lower table, where sat the Chief Executive of The Rock; Mitch, someone Rich knew and trusted very well. The older man had a life experienced face, he’d spent some time in the forces and sported a healed battle scar on his left cheek, which ran parallel with his chin. He had a full head of hair, but it was grey, Mitch smiled when his favourite employee entered. For him the meeting had already been a battlefield with no allies. Rich represented the cavalry, to support the flanks in the negotiations that were under-way and that lay ahead.

“Good that you could make it, Rich,” said Mitch.

“Not a problem at all, Mitch,” replied Rich. “After I found the room.”

At such an expression of genuine affection, the Program Director, Gillian, interjected to regain some attention. She commanded a very powerful presence, being of African decent, she enjoyed dressing in loud ethnic dress that complemented her personality when she was in a good mood. Today, she wore a brightly coloured floral pattern that appeared to be a flower that Rich hadn’t seen before. She usually came over as a caring individual, but Rich suspected she could be quite harsh regarding disciplinary matters. She spoke with the Queen’s English.

“We are pleased to have you on board again as well,” she added.

The false words just went right over the top of Rich, it was clear from her demeanour she’d personally disapproved of The Rock’s choice of facilitator, and there’d been many disagreements the last time they‘d worked together.

Rich knew, once the contracts were all signed, the niceties would be lost in favour of whinging and whining about how much things cost, and the pressure would start to get the completed coursework to the college, so they could boast the achievements.

Rich saw the chair placed opposite Mitch, in readiness for him.

“I’ll take this chair, if it’s okay?” He said, making it look like his decision. He rotated the chair to suit him, facing the top table so he could see the eyes of the college partners.

“We were just discussing the profile of the forthcoming course, with Mr Mitchell,” stated Gillian, her enormous earrings dragging across her shoulders as she turned her head toward the two negotiators. She insisted on calling Mitch ‘Mr Mitchell’, it appeared to be a sad form of professional disrespect. It was said she hated negotiating with him, as he’d never gained any academic qualifications, but was a self-made man, selling his engineering business and choosing to buy in to the work, initiated by his church.

“What’s on the table so far?” replied Rich, looking sneakily at the secretary’s upside down shorthand notes.

“In partnership, we are running a six-week self-improvement program,” interrupted Sophie, the Manager, who’d not spoken until this point. She was a dark haired, stubborn woman, who’d initiated many a conflict with the tutors who worked for The Rock. Her view of the world was blinkered, heavily influenced by Gillian’s’ Key Performance Indicators, or K.P.I. It was said she’d taken a pay cut once, to meet some of Gillian’s austerity measures, while Gillian and other directors enjoyed yet another substantial pay increase. That said, she dressed to impress with a very professional two-piece suit, a plain pastel blouse that showed too much of her bosom; on her lapel she wore a diamond crested broach in the shape of a rabbit. Rich always felt she displayed her cleavage to distract her male colleagues, so she always had the advantage in negotiations, as the men predictably were less able to concentrate.

“You’ll be delivering an induction week, an activity residential week and a community spirit based work project.” She always delivered the spiel as if it were the first time it was being said, and she seemed to be able to own the words even though it was similar to a previous program.

The course reflected other courses that were in the market place, but had its own influences and reputation locally. The youth worker had previously worked for a similar national organisation, but preferred working with the smaller agency. He’d more freedom and worked in isolation, hence the reputation Boss from some of his students. Each course was governed by learning hours, and course conclusion targets, these mainly reflected getting the students through the course without losing them.

He already had an idea how the program would be structured, and had visited a potential work project at a nearby cat’s home.

“I take it we are using The Rock Activity Centre for the residential again?” interrupted Rich.

“We‘ll be sending you to the coastal residential centre at West Beach,” replied Sophie, checking her paperwork for confirmation as she spoke. This was of course, The Rock’s residential centre, once again, Sophie liked it to look like her idea.

Mitch smiled, there wasn’t much profit in that element of the program, but he was glad they were choosing to use their facilities; they were familiar to Rich and it made other things a lot easier.
“Unfortunately, we have harder targets to hit this time,” she added with raised eyebrows, as a sign of anticipated disappointment. Rich had expected this as well, it was somewhat predictable, given the college had a bad performance reputation.

“The college feels we are not recruiting enough individuals from ethnic backgrounds, alternative sexual preference or single parent backgrounds. We wondered if you were able to work harder in these areas?” asked Gillian, looking sternly through her horn-rimmed glasses. Rich looked up at the secretary who was busy scribbling short hand, what he wanted to say was,

“You mean the college has fallen short on their other courses, and wants us to make up the short fall?” He knew this would initiate a conflict. As he didn’t want an argument, he responded passively, “As always, I’ll do my best.”

It was actually all he ever asked of anyone else he was working with: Low expectations, firm but achievable targets and timely reviews. He often quoted it, so there was never any confusion, and people always remembered his ethos. The meeting went on to discuss and negotiate what performance indicators and targets were likely to be achieved, what costs would be incurred, and what expenses would be allowed. The meeting finished as students left their classes, forcing Mitch and Rich to walk against the tide with several bundles of paperwork under arm, notepads with to-do lists, and forecast diagrams.

In the car park, they both paused as they intended to head in different directions,

“Dame Gilly was on form today!” exclaimed Rich.

“I find Sophie harder to work with,” replied Mitch earnestly, ignoring the disrespectful, college nick-name Rich had used. “She always seems to be working on her own agenda. Why can’t these people do things for other people for a change?”

“I hate these meetings. I just want to get started and into some activities,” responded Rich. “Each group of students are different in so many ways already. How can I bully people to come on the course when they don't want to?” He asked rhetorically. I’ll pop in to the office in the next few days,” he said, adding “see you later, I’ve got some recruiting to do.”

“Good luck and see you soon,” said Mitch. “I’ve now got some reports to write,” he mumbled, walking toward his car.