Doctor Who?

I've spent  most of today taking the oven apart and cleaning the monster. The phone call came just as I'd finished while my hads were stinging from the Mr Muscle  oven cleaner chemicals.   “I’ve received a letter ” says my agent Ruth. She's  younger than I but  there is something of the school maam about her . “You have been asked..”   her voice rises with each word. “ The University of Huddersfield  to accept an Honorary Doctor of letters.”     

My foster parents (whom feigned adoption) did everything to stop me going into university  by placing me into a  childrens home at 11 years old.  And I was never encouraged in the childrens homes for the subsequent six years in care.  However at the age of twenty one  my first recognised book was pubished and since then I've  visited  universities around the world to read my poetry.

Reforms are on their way though. Tony Blair  said it was appalling that only 1%  of children in care went on to university. Mr Blair told his audience there “has to be a profound rebalancing of the civil liberties debate”, and continuous reform was the only way public services could meet ever-increasing public expectations.  (Guardian, 16 May 2006)

The poet laureate of The Harlem renaissance   Langston Hughes  received his Honarary Doctor of letters at the same age as I. He received his from  Lincoln  university where he attended as a young man.  The rest of the phone call is a bit of a haze.  There are enquiries for readings in  Namibia in Southern  Africa,   Sweden and from Yale university in The States.   I think Ruth notices. “I'll speak to you tomorrow” she says “Sorry for caling on a Sunday. I  just thought you'd like to know”.

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