My Memories of School

Written c. 1995 for one of my children

Before I went to primary school I spent some days at the nursery where my Auntie Lyn worked. This was to give my Mum a rest when she was busy with my younger sister. I quite liked the nursery, which was big, and next to the school.

My sign was a pipe, which was on my bag and on my blanket. We had a blanket because in the afternoon we had to lie down after lunch, and were supposed to sleep, but I don't think I ever did.

Oldwood Primary School

In September 1954 I started in the Infants at the local primary school, Oldwood. I thought I would be all right because my older sister was already there, but in fact I never saw her, and she used to hide in the girls' toilets at playtime and during the lunch hour so she could avoid me. I found the first day very scary. I think I cried, because I was put on the cry-babies' bench as a punishment where all the other children could see us and make fun. There were lots and lots of new children, and the school didn't have enough room, even though it was quite new. The hall was used as extra classrooms for some children.

At lunchtime we were told to go and wash for dinner, so I went and washed my hands and face, like I did at home. All the other children went wild, they thought it was really stupid to wash your face, and made fun of me. That really hurt.

My first teacher was Miss Hallam, and she wasn't very nice. She was very strict and hit us with a ruler. I was so scared of her I never used to say anything and was too frightened to ask a question. I used to wet my trousers every day because I didn't know I was allowed to ask to go to the toilet, but mostly it was because I was very scared.

I remember that one day we had a different teacher because Miss Hallam was away. She was very nice and kind. She got us to write a poem. I still remember a poem she read out by one boy: "There was a cow called Nelly, Who had a pain in her stomach." It was years before I realised it should have been in her belly. I didn't know that belly was supposed to be a rude word.

Playtimes were always very busy and scary. I remember that one boy used to pick on me and hit me. Mr Musgrove taught me how to box a bit, to defend myself, and when the boy came again to taunt me I hit him back. He went an told the playground lady who punished me by not allowing me to play out for a week. I gave up trying to make friends and used to spend my lunchbreaks at the end of the school playing field where there were trees and bushes where I could play by myself and be happy. It was hard to find somewhere like that at school, so I felt lucky being able to escape.

On another occasion I was on the grass nearer the school when a boy tripped me up on purpose and I fell against a concrete post and split my head. I had to go and have stitches. I used to like looking for four-leaved clovers in the summer, but they didn't bring me any luck.

What did we learn at school? I remember learning the alphabet, which most children seemed to know already. The hardest bit was learning the right order. Learning to read was exciting. I think we had books called The Wide Range Readers. I remember the story about the mice who picked up the jam with their tails and licked it.

I remember a mural the class did with all animals in it. I drew a picture of a baby deer, and the teacher was so pleased with it she cut it out and stuck it on. That made me very happy.

After school I used to go to a childminder, as my Mum worked. The first one wasn't very nice. I think she was middle-aged and quite fat, with her hair in a bun. She looked after lots of children till their mums came home from work, and was very strict. Once I didn't want to play girls' games with the girls and I was put in the cold dark washhouse as a punishment. Us "naughty" ones sat on the floor and talked to each other. Later we went to another minder, where we had to sit in silence on the sofa till my mum came. That was really boring.

I made some friends at Infants School. I remember one called Ian. I thought he was quite posh because he had model cars to play with, that we couldn't afford.

Chorlton Park Primary School

When I was about eight we moved to another area, and I went to Chorlton Park Junior School next door to my old Nursery. I can only remember one teacher there, who was a student on teaching practice: She was called Miss Markarian, and she was so nice I fell in love with her.

Bishop Bilsborrow Memorial Primary School

I spent a year and a half at another school in Moss Side Manchester, which was very rough compared with Chorlton Park School. I remember it was next to the bus depot and had very high walls around the tiny playground. The toilets were awful, like a horror story. There were nuns there, and I remember getting in trouble because I didn't know how to cross myself. In the morning there was lots of fighting, for fun. I used to wrestle instead, because I was better at that, and hated hitting with fists. It hurt too much, and I thought it was stupid. In the top class the teacher was Mrs O’Kelly, and she was really nice, and taught us lots. I went on a school trip to Belgium with her, my first school trip, because my parents were better off now and could afford the £25. We paid £1 every week. When we left Mrs O’Kelly told us her first name as a special treat. It was Molly. It was thanks to her that I passed my 11 plus and went to grammar school.

St Bede's College

St Bede’s was a grammar school was a big shock. It was all boys, and very strict with strange rules. All the teachers wore long black gowns, and some of them lived at the school, as did some of the boys. The head teacher was called the rector. He wore special clothes and seemed like something from space. We used to get punished a lot. For small things we had to kneel till the end of the lesson, which hurt because we had to wear short trousers till we were fourteen. For serious things like not doing homework we were strapped. Each morning a man called the Prefect of Discipline used to come round and ask for boys for whipping. We had to stand in front of the class and he would give us six lashes on each hand with a big leather belt. It really hurt, but you had to try not to cry. If you did something terrible, you were whipped by the rector. I had it twice, once for copying in a test, and once for not bringing in a note for being away. I had to go to the rector's study, take down my trousers, lean over the arm of his armchair, and have six straps. That was agony, but worst of all was being shamed like that.

Lessons at the school were often really boring, but you couldn't look out of the windows because they had special glass in. I couldn't wait for four o'clock when I could get out, do my paper round and then go to the library. Most of the teachers just dictated notes that we had to write down. It wasn't a very good place to learn. The buildings, though, were very beautiful, and there were huge old paintings on the walls of the corridors. In one corridor there were the school photographs, going back over a hundred years.

Mr Frost was the music teacher. He wore a mortar board all the time, and pin-stripe trousers. He wrote songs which we had to learn. He was strict but kind, and I enjoyed the music. I also liked it when he played the organ in the huge school hall. he was really good at that.

In the sixth form it was a bit better. We were all known by our surnames, but in the sixth form I was the only boy known by my first name. I was a prefect, but was never horrible to the younger boys. I used to feel sorry for the young boarders, who were lonely and missed their families, and used to chat to them.

I left school when I was eighteen and went to university, I was glad that I was clever and able to pass examinations, and I suppose that when I was older I preferred school to being at home. It took me a long time to get used to going back into a school, and it still sends shivers down my spine. School was such a scary, unfriendly place, more like a prison than anything else I’ve been to. It’s nice to remember people like Hilary, the girl with red ringlets who said she was sorry when I left Chorlton Park school when I was nine, and Anthony who was my friend at the grammar school.