I could finally start a new course that suits my timetable. Introduction to counselling, I mean. Why am I taking that course? Well, I could actually settle for some other courses as long as they didn’t conflict my timetable. But counselling particularly interests me as it may help me improve my listening skills to listen to others and myself. We will see.

It almost didn’t happen. Lorraine said she would enable me to attend the classes in several conflicting weeks so that I would not have to disguise myself as a woman to take the course from the women’s centre although Lorraine was prepared to lend me some of her clothes. :) But still that I wasn’t able to catch the tutor for an interview could have caused me to miss this course. Despite my persistent attempts, he hadn’t phoned me back. To be frank, I took a little bit offence. And what could I expect from a person who even didn’t bother to respond to my messages? To my relief, at last he was kind enough to make a phone call to give me a specific time to see him so that I could start.

Maybe the tutor was actually not to blame for. Maybe he did try to reach me earlier. Maybe I was too quick to attempt to judge him. Anyway, in the first lesson he sounded experienced and knowledgeable enough to inspire confidence. It was nice of him to ask me if I could follow the course. Yes, his English was understandable to me. I hope I won’t experience much difficulty in terms of my English.

Code of Ethics and Practice for Counsellors were not very appealing to me. In fact, it was quite boring, I could say. I didn’t find anything particularly objectionable about the code. I thought I would generally take it for granted. Should I care about confidentiality? Should I not exploit my client? They could go without saying. It is common sense, isn’t it? But is what they call common sense means the same thing? And is it a universal source for right and wrong? Never mind. OK then, I don’t mind something written like that to tell counsellors what to do and what not to do.

I had thought about becoming a counsellor as a career before the tutor reminded us of the reality that the clients wouldn’t come to tell the counsellor how they enjoy living life as very happy individuals. They would come to give the counsellor their pain. That was one of the factors that would keep me away from working as a counsellor professionally. I think that doing this job all the time requires a very strong personality to cope with such a big pressure.

I didn’t think of what my fellow students’ race or ethnic origin could be. I didn’t know the fact that black and Asian people show less interest in counselling than white people do. However, it isn’t very surprising to me. The tutor’s assumption about close family ties sounds reasonable. I had come across statistics indicating that divorce rate in Asian communities in the UK was considerably less than white and black population. The reason may be similar.

I think I am the youngest student in the class. According to the course requirements, the age limit was 21. I suppose such a limitation is due to the assumption that counsellors are supposed to be mature and that how many years people have lived is expected to be a part of their mature attitudes towards people and life. (I had dinner in a Mediterranean restaurant, which says on the menu that they would welcome people aged 25 and over!) As a young person, participating in a kind of mature activity like counselling with elder people seems to give me a little proud.

That Alan the tutor said those who involve in counselling are mostly women aroused my dissatisfying self-image: I am feminine. I am doing women’s businesses. It is not just the counselling course. In healing course that I am currently doing at Wolverhampton College you get three men against eight women. I am still a student at university in Turkey. I was studying preschool education before I came here. We guys were two out of eighteen in the whole class. My previous department at another university was public relationship and the students there were mostly female too. I am an au pair. Such domestic works are supposed to be done by women, and male au pairs are rare indeed. On the phone, my high-pitched voice often makes people think that I am female. Plus, I consider myself both physically and emotionally too soft for a man. I have usually been a non-violent person since childhood. When I look back to my past, I say to myself I should have been a tough guy. And I still wish I were more masculine.