STEPS IN MY LIFE Those two steps into that building on a bright September morning was the beginning of the steps to my career. “Oh! You should go to the lady’s staffroom” was the greeting I received from a very friendly member of management. As I opened the door to this sacred room, I was greeted by welcoming, smiling faces of those with stories to tell of happenings during their long, restful, summer holidays. Soon the atmosphere was buzzing with post leaving certificate students who were eager to enroll for a Secretarial Course. Shorthand and Typewriting were the fundamental core subjects. The noise of manual typewriters – a melody of rhythm – was heard throughout the hallways. One, two, tick tock were the strokes of the typewriter. The importance of touch typing was highlighted to enable speed of production of work which always enhanced employment opportunities. And of course, Gregg Shorthand with its strokes and brief forms of words and phrases – “Now ladies, you will need 100 wpm in your Shorthand if you want a good job in the Health Board or Local Authority”. The students worked diligently at their skills and were very successful. In the earlier years the students were only a few years younger than me – they were so energetic and interested in their studies. They came from the environs of the city and from far flung places like Cahirsiveen, Cashel and Dungarvan. Many were looking forward to living away from home and beginning their independent lives. For extracurricular activities, Flower Arranging classes (for the educated lady), Fashion and Deportment classes and Debating competitions were organized and of course, The Secretary of the Year competition. These were great highlights of the year. Progress arrived – electric typewriters replaced manual typewriters and these in turn were replaced with electronic typewriters. Then the daring movement towards computers arrived. Having started with the Commodore 64 computers and floppy discs we advanced to desktop computers and hard drive data storage. The days of Shorthand were over and there was a greater emphasis on Information Technology. In time, the structure of the familiar building changed. A third floor was added on, with a new flight of stairs and a modern elevator built in. The rooms here had an extensive view over Cork City – a sight to take your breath away on a clear morning. Teaching methods also advanced from using a blackboard and chalk – chalk and talk – to white boards and markers and for the organized teacher you could use an overhead projector to outline your lessons on the whiteboard to keep the attention of your class. Then came the Interactive Whiteboard and the PowerPoint Presentation with all its interesting and colorful slides, sure to attract even the most lethargic of students. The variety of students evolved over the years, with an international mix and a wide-ranging age variation. But the ethos of the college stayed the same – a place of learning for students, eager to progress in further education or to seek employment. The needs of the students were also nurtured with extra supports when required. Whilst the structure of the building evolved over the years, the people remained the same. The students, irrespective of age or race still had the desire to learn and to adapt. The teaching staff at all times were like a close community. Great friendships were forged and support was paramount. It is a pleasure to ponder on all the characters that I met over time. People come and go through the system and all have a special place in my memories. It was an experience “Second to None”.sTE

Shades I glanced at his reflection, The guy in the shades. I couldn't be sure, but I think he glanced back. Sitting by the window, as he was, Last carriage. Looking so nonchalant. Did he think he looked cool? He certainly looked smart. Crisp white shirt, top two buttons free, Collar parted like two estranged friends. His suit, expensively tailored, sharp, powerful, Pale grey, with a graph-paper pin-check. He looked like he meant business. He looked confident, in control. He made me feel a little inadequate. How could I measure up to that? But I guess we were both traveling in the same direction. That must mean something. Then I saw moisture on his cheek. I stole two subtle glances to be sure. A dewy drop, just under his sunglasses. Its downward journey traced by a glistening track. Did anyone else notice? I felt a little ashamed for him. I scanned the carriage. Most seats were taken. Almost every face was hidden behind a newspaper, book, or phone. No one was looking at him. I wished I could help him. That would have felt a bit strange had he not seemed so familiar, like a long-lost sibling. Was that affinity, or sympathy? Maybe both, perhaps neither. The Tannoy pinged and my station was announced, dragging me from my thoughts. I rose perfunctorily, as the carriage complained to a halt like a resistant colt. I buttoned my jacket, stepped out and then turned to face the train as its roared against its lumbering mass. Through the filthy window I saw his empty seat, And I saw a blurred reflection of the guy in shades, And only I was looking at him.

STORY FROM UKRAINE I ran and ran. The war was chasing me. I felt this dark power, saw eyes of these soldiers , I felt weapons aiming me, closed my eyes with hands and woke up, stood up, looked in the dark sky with millions and millions stars. How far these stars and how mysterious they were! Everything was ok. It was only my nightmare. I saw these nightmares every night. I was only 3 years old and was already scared and exhausted of the war. Then I decided to do something with it, decided to stop this war in my nightmares. Now I was no running of it and went to these people , I talked to them, to persuade them to stop chasing me and kill. I was talking different languages and they put their weapons on the ground. And every night I had negotiations. This strategy helped to protect myself in my dreams. In the morning my best friend Katia waited for me. We created a lot of games together. The bright sun was shining. Many flowers were blooming around. We enjoyed eating a lot of tasty fruits, especially strawberries and plums. The blue and friendly sky was deep and peaceful. My friend, the boy with brown eyes played music and sang songs. The life was full of fun and happiness. I wanted this day never to end. But again the night came and again I had a deal with the darkness of the war and complicate negotiations. This time passed quickly. I was married. We had girls twins and a small cosy house. The life is not simple but bright and with wonderful opportunities and perspectives. But something went wrong. Something changed around. My cat, he usually follows me in the house. When I was cooking, he was sitting on the chair and I talked to him. He is incredibly smart and a perfect listener. I was wondered that he understand my words. Once I asked him to sit on the chair, he looked at me and did what I asked. Now he didn`t want to come in the house just looked in my eyes. The neighbour `s dog also looked in my eyes. Our house was a small world with many plants. They were blooming. All were blooming. Even one plant, it was always between the life and death now it prepared the flower. It was a miracle. I had some troubles with this plant and made many manipulations to save it. Nothing worked with it. Now I found a friend for improving my English and we created the game of imagination. We were talking about everything but not directly. We explained with images. This game helped me to cope with some fears and my flowers supported this game and started to bloom. We had one big room. Kids did there gymnastic. One wall was painted by me with the sea. My daughters were very good in gymnastic. Every evening I and our cat observed concerts. How smart can be children! How high can they jump! How deep can they feel music! Soon they would had the competition. They were absolutely involved in it. I finished my course to be the Quality assurance engineer. Many interviews were passed. That because my friends supported me. I was playing table tennis with my good friend and college and told her about all models in software development and another important things in life. She was a really good listener. When I was even going to give up, my friend recorded videos about persistence. The main thing I felt the strong emotional connection with my friends. They were involved and supported this project. Soon I should have signed up the new contract and celebrated this amassing event. Because we were persisting, friendly, smart, brave, used our rich fantasy. But something was changed. I sent my kids to school. One teacher, very attractive woman were speaking very emotional. I was in a hurry. But I was frozen by this speech. Not, the war will not start. We are so young, we are full of dreams. We must do our dreams true, follow dreams. We must create beauty in this world. “ why is she talking about the war so emotional?”- asked I myself. Strange noises above my head disturbed me and it was difficult to concentrate on the work. I was trying to contact with an organisation I was going to work with. But was no answer. After school and my job we went with kids to gymnastic school. This was a small group of girls. We loved our coaches. Gymnastic made small girls beautiful. I looked at them and smiled, how heathy, gently, full of joyless with pink cheeks and sparkling eyes they were! One by one they followed the coach. Parents went to do their things. In a hall for waiting one basketball coach, very high and positive woman was speaking with someone also very emotional. The war! We don`t need the war, we are going to have the competition tomorrow. I explained children, how to prepare bags, we bought tickets and booked hotel. We have our plans and dreams. We will develop ourselves and be happy with kids and sport. They said me - war. No! I don`t believe! I also bought a ticket to Kyiv. We also had dreams, plans and competitions, kids in gymnastic and I in table tennis. That was the last night of peace. I couldn`t sleep. At 5 pm my father called to me. He told that a lot of Russian tanks were passing their village. At the same time I heard the noises and one hour later we received the massagers, all bridges in our city were destroyed. My cousin went to Chernigiv to take her daughter. She was the last who left that bridge. She just left and it destroyed just behind her car. Our city is surrounded by rivers. I didn`t know, that one bridge wasn’t destroyed. It was the last road of the city. My best friend sent me a photo and a short message. “Sorry we can`t meet. Maybe next week. I go to defence our city.” We went with kids to my parents in law. My mother in law had her birthday. We were living in the countryside. Our streets were full of soldiers and heavy weapons were riding on our streets with noise. We felt overstressed I couldn`t show my real feelings. We drew pictures and read fairy tales. It was the first night we spent in the cellar sleeping on potatoes. The third night was special. I woke up, because I felt like someone woke me. I opened my eyes. Nothing changed, glooming light, potatoes, children were sleeping dressed in jackets and winter shoes in that case that need to go out. But I felt the present of something else. Suddenly the horrible noise made the earth to shake. My husband went to me and was crying like a child looking for the protection in me. “ Sorry we have children I must to comfort them. Please don`t show your panic.” -said I quietly Soon it was difficult to breath of smoke. Mum, you said, it is far. But where is the smoke coming from? In the morning we left this house. Our situation was difficult. There was no water and electricity. Our neighbours had a well. They shared water with us. We had electro generator and other our neighbours also. We turn them in the timetable and share electricity, charged our telephones. Without electricity the fridge didn`t work. Frozen fruits, frozen meat and fish would be spoiled soon. Every morning was started with checking all friends. One my friend proposed me to create the plan and followed it. She sent me her plan. I sent to her mine. I bought a lot of bread and dried it in that case, to be without any food. In the evening she texted me about her feelings I shared mine, we forgot about our plans after the first bomb. Next day was absolutely silent. I`ve never heard such silence before. All birds flew away from our small garden. All dogs around were silent. Even trees were absolutely silent. Children were afraid of it and asked me to leave the house. We took plastic bottles, filled them with warm water and put them in the cellar. It was a small hole in the ground without any building above. It was wet and cold. We created a bed with many blankets. The weather was freezing. It was the way to keep it warm. In the evening I went there with kids. The sky was absolutely clear with millions stars. All artificial lights were off. Only the stars. I looked in the sky, how wonderful and mysterious it! How close and so far! How impressed and full of secrets! I read fairy tales and told stories about friendship for children. They felt asleep. I couldn`t. Soon after one tank started to shoot right behind our house. A little while we received the answer. The incredible silence was broken with incredible horrible sounds of different types of bombs and another weapons. One house just disappeared in a minute. Planes were just above our tiny cellar. They through bombs. My husband was crying. I told stories just to keep kids comfort. Our street was in a fire. It was hard to breath of the smoke. Material of the roofs were flying in the air. People were trying to cope with fire. We had a little water. The weather was cold. It was the hell on the planet. In the morning I saw that all people were survived. It was the best new of that day. Some groups of men came to us. They observed all destroyed houses. I knew that reason. We were survived. It was a miracle. We all were survived. That day we left our house. It was another big cellar in the city. It was full of dust. We created a bed. There were two others families with small children. It was warm. There was water and electricity. There was a fridge. My mother in law was incredibly angry with me. I took pencils, albums and books instead to fill all bags with food. She couldn`t bare and shouted on me. It was the first night, that I could sleep. It was first and last. Soon after planes, bombs reached us. They bombed us in the night. Empty shops, empty streets, glass of broken windows, horrible news. My husband was crying in the corner mostly. Once the volunteers came to take some products of the storage. It was nearby our cellar. One missile killed her and a security man in front of our cellar. My new friend was playing with her son outside. Ten seconds they came in. This event was behind their backs. It was the question of seconds. We had no water, no electricity. Soon it would be cold inside. Candles, dust, sounds of bombs and feelings of death. I couldn`t wait. I wanted to live and saved children. How? How could we leave this city surrounded with active fights? How could we stay there and survive without water, food, warm and electricity? The yard in front of our cellar was full of glass of broken windows, drops of blood and smell of the death. I felt responsibility, I couldn`t cry and needed to find way how to escape from it. One case was to walk 7 kilometres on the field to the river. Wait for boat. Volunteers helped people. It was impossible with kids. I spoke with a girl student. They went out. There were women with small kids. They were small enough to bring them. They went and didn`t stop even listened horrible sounds nearby. They followed instructions of volunteers. But it was a lottery. Some young girls were killed there. Now 2022, we can discover space and creating quantum computers, but why we can not to live friendly with peace? The next day after the event in our yard our cellar neighbours decided to leave this city. It was a hard decision. Because nobody knew about the finish. My husband was crying, my mother in law was crying. My father in law whispered me, that I must be with a family and stay in the city. They were trying to persuade me that cellar was a saved place. I didn`t pay any attention on it. I was going to gather kids clothes, and understood, that we had no clothes. My husband took two sheets of paper and wrote down the address and telephone numbers, put them into pockets of kids jackets. He wrote also on the kids arms his telephone number. This night we didn`t sleep. I closed my eyes and imaged the big white angel that will protect our road. I heard the planes and bombs. In that case I was dreaming about the ocean, blue waves, sand and fluffy clouds. The morning was a nervous. My husband was crying. My children hold my hands. I asked my husband to go with us. He preferred to stay in the city. It was the last drop in our relationships. Our city was always full of flowers, lights, smiling people. Now we were passing by many ruins, burn, destroyed houses and sadness. My poor dear Chernigiv. You always made me happy. You opened your hugs for our family. Your atmosphere was always positive. Your wounds are so deep now. I will always be with you and you will be in my heart. See you“ The road was clear. All were silent, even a small girl didn`t make any noise. We went and went running of the war. When we were in the school in other part of Ukraine we started to speak. Children felt freedom and started to run. And we were impressed. It was the first day since the start of the war, hiding in the cellars, that children ran and smiled. There were a lot of food. There was water and shower. One woman came to us and proposed to wash our clothes. My jacket was absolutely dirty. She gave me her and washed ours. There were big windows in the classroom where we were going to sleep. -We will not sleep there. These windows are too big. – said my children. It was a small, but very nice town full of people. We looked around. How ? People walked? Was it real? The shops were opened, full of products. We were survived. The life was continued. Then was a long way. Gone by the wind we went of the war. All my properties I could hold in two hands. Hands of my daughters. My friends helped me with money. We went to Ireland. I still have a lot of questions. What is the reason and the aim of this rude event? - Oh war, you broke our street, threw my plants on the floor, destroyed the roof of our house and the rain spoiled my picture. Our plans were broken, our dreams were changed. You separated us with most important people in our life. Who are they for you? Just numbers and bodies. Who are they for us? They are our soulmates. Do you think, that creating hells on the planet, shows your power? - Dear world, how can you allow this reality? Why? Who wants to play the lottery of life? Who wants to sit in the cellar with hungry children and listen to noise of bombs? Who wants to lose their close souls, fathers, sons, husbands, daughters, friends? Who wants to be a victim of the war machine? Why are you doing it ? Do you have any resources, plans, ideas how to stop it and never start again? I believe in you! Please! I know, you can create the peace!

Annie Ninety days. “That is how long you have”, he said. Shaking my head with the ‘juvenile arrogance’ much despised by my mother, I walked out. I noticed that now-familiar queasy feeling and speculated about how to conclude this nauseating day. It wasn’t until I noticed my mother running after me that I realized I, myself, was running. Watching her whitened knuckles clasping her mobile, trying in vein to keep my father abreast of developments whilst in hot pursuit of her fleeing daughter. The pounding of my trainers on the concrete offered a rhythmic, almost hypnotic, accompaniment to my evasion. The events of the week flickered before my eyes in a black-and-white reel. Another pang, this time of sadness, as I realized my thoughts remained devoid of colour. My observation of suspicious characters outside my house had gone unheeded. Nobody was listening. At first, a lone man. He skulked outside my door, peering in through the window. And in broad daylight too! The audacity! The threat I felt was mitigated by the fact that this man was obviously no good at his job. To approach a target’s home during the day was surely an ill-advised maneuver. Moreover, his stake-out vehicle was embarrassingly conspicuous with blackened windows and a garish logo. I recalled my mid-week visitor. This time, a woman. I was disarmed by her softness, her advanced age. I wondered what this sweet woman wanted with me. Upon opening the door, I was hit with regret. Her brows crunched together in a fleshy huddle as she surveyed my appearance with the derision of those who came before her; “can I come in for a moment?”. A resounding NO left my lips, with a little more sharpness than I had intended. The woman looked at me as though I should know her but I didn’t. She was not unlike my mother but I knew better than to fall for that. This morning, my mother succeeded in finding my spare key hidden under a rock in the garden. I stifled my indignation and decided to humour her, out of pity. We were to go to the pharmacy. She had a headache, apparently. Insistent that I shower and change, she frog-marched me down the street towards the shopping district. I felt horribly exposed. All eyes were on me. I pleaded with my mother that “they will know where to find me now”. She kept moving although she hastened her stride. Perhaps she finally believes me? Gesturing me towards a harsh, modern building, my mother implored me to go inside. A tall, expensive-looking man approached us. Another one of their operatives. I made to leave but my mother hooked her arm in mine with more strength than one would expect of someone her age. Her ruby nails dug into my arm and I wondered if this was my mother at all. “I hear things have been difficult lately, Annie”. The reality of my situation hit with cruel force. They had recruited my mother. “How long have you been off your meds Annie?” I assured him that I had taken every last one. The safest option was to play along until I could leave. My mother exhaled with exasperation and I took my chance wrangle free of her grasp. “Doctor, how long can she go without medication before….?”. Her voice broke. Obediently awaiting the doctor’s reply, I noticed a woman standing at the back of the foyer. She pointed to a green sign; ‘EXIT’. As she turned to leave, two incandescent wings spanned out behind her and I knew I had to follow.

Aftermath She spends her finest hours rewinding all moments of the time they were together. Looking back over memories, she should have tried not to let him leave. Tears are falling from her eyes, thinking of all these hidden emotions. It is a bitter pill to swallow how they have let love go by. Why didn’t she try harder to keep him in her life? It makes her sad seeing him go and leaving an empty space in her soul. His voice still echos around the walls of her scull. She should have had tried harder to keep him in her life. We won’t ever know where lovers go in their own poetry. But love always brings memories back no-one can steal. And with death comes a heartache no-one can heal.

STEPS IN MY LIFE Those two steps into that building on a bright September morning was the beginning of the steps to my career. “Oh! You should go to the lady’s staffroom” was the greeting I received from a very friendly member of management. As I opened the door to this sacred room, I was greeted by welcoming, smiling faces of those with stories to tell of happenings during their long, restful, summer holidays. Soon the atmosphere was buzzing with post leaving certificate students who were eager to enroll for a Secretarial Course. Shorthand and Typewriting were the fundamental core subjects. The noise of manual typewriters – a melody of rhythm – was heard throughout the hallways. One, two, tick tock were the strokes of the typewriter. The importance of touch typing was highlighted to enable speed of production of work which always enhanced employment opportunities. And of course, Gregg Shorthand with its strokes and brief forms of words and phrases – “Now ladies, you will need 100 wpm in your Shorthand if you want a good job in the Health Board or Local Authority”. The students worked diligently at their skills and were very successful. In the earlier years the students were only a few years younger than me – they were so energetic and interested in their studies. They came from the environs of the city and from far flung places like Cahirsiveen, Cashel and Dungarvan. Many were looking forward to living away from home and beginning their independent lives. For extracurricular activities, Flower Arranging classes (for the educated lady), Fashion and Deportment classes and Debating competitions were organized and of course, The Secretary of the Year competition. These were great highlights of the year. Progress arrived – electric typewriters replaced manual typewriters and these in turn were replaced with electronic typewriters. Then the daring movement towards computers arrived. Having started with the Commodore 64 computers and floppy discs we advanced to desktop computers and hard drive data storage. The days of Shorthand were over and there was a greater emphasis on Information Technology. In time, the structure of the familiar building changed. A third floor was added on, with a new flight of stairs and a modern elevator built in. The rooms here had an extensive view over Cork City – a sight to take your breath away on a clear morning. Teaching methods also advanced from using a blackboard and chalk – chalk and talk – to white boards and markers and for the organized teacher you could use an overhead projector to outline your lessons on the whiteboard to keep the attention of your class. Then came the Interactive Whiteboard and the PowerPoint Presentation with all its interesting and colorful slides, sure to attract even the most lethargic of students. The variety of students evolved over the years, with an international mix and a wide-ranging age variation. But the ethos of the college stayed the same – a place of learning for students, eager to progress in further education or to seek employment. The needs of the students were also nurtured with extra supports when required. Whilst the structure of the building evolved over the years, the people remained the same. The students, irrespective of age or race still had the desire to learn and to adapt. The teaching staff at all times were like a close community. Great friendships were forged and support was paramount. It is a pleasure to ponder on all the characters that I met over time. People come and go through the system and all have a special place in my memories. It was an experience “Second to None”.

The Sentinel In ‘94 I was assembled in this corner of the room and here I've remained ever since. Treated with liberal coats of beeswax, my corners were sharp and crisp. But I've been pounded by fists and scalded by pots and my legs are battered and chipped. And yet I remain, stoic and watchful to the tide of the large and the small. At first, there were two. Then two became three became five and in a while, five were a pair once more. On occasion, I was surrounded by twelve or more, and dressed in linen and lace. During the darkest of days, a feast was hefted upon me and sharp cracks punctured the air. I've supped on sweet wine, fiery sauce, and salty tears. I've been hid under and fought over. I’ve witnessed the joker slip from one to the other and an unseen foot seek out another. I’ve considered felicitations, solicitations, confessions, rebuttals, recriminations. Shrieks and sighs and songs, and great howls of glee have weaved and danced all about me. But in silence I remain, ever watchful to the tide of the large and the small.

FAQs Archive - Cork College of FET - Morrison's Island Campus

Q: What 3rd level courses are linked to Applied Social Studies with Psychology?

There is a wide range of 3 rd level courses which are linked to the Applied Social Studies with Psychology course. Go to our progressions page to see a full list of progressions.

“Steps In My Life”

STEPS IN MY LIFE Those two steps into that building on a bright September morning was the beginning of the steps to my career. “Oh! You should go to the lady’s staffroom” was the greeting I received from a very friendly member of management. As I opened the door to this sacred room, I was [...]

Maura O'Halloran2023-03-28T08:58:58+01:00