It was my first day at school, a day that I hadn’t wanted to arrive. I loved being outdoors even then. The thought of being shackled to a desk, as gleefully described to me by my elder siblings made me weak with fright.
I had been placed next to a big bull of a boy with green snot candles leaking continually from his nose, even after he had wiped them away countless times with his shirt sleeve, they still poured forth.
Most of what happened that day has long since become a faded myriad of jumbled memories but the last hour of my first school day will live with me until my dying breath.
Like the rest of my fellow students I was a child of the war along with shortages and rationing it had brought with it, we didn’t know anything else, we knew life as it was then and no more.
We had been listening intently to a story, read by the teacher, suddenly she paused and looked up saying,
“Who can tell me where grapefruit comes from?”
When no one moved, I tentatively put up my hand and waited to be noticed.
“ Yes you there, the girl with the pink hair ribbon”
I took a deep breath and said in a small voice
“From a bottle miss”
All around were small blank faces, suddenly she was bearing down on me, she yanked me from my chair and pulled me toward the front of the classroom.
“ You stupid girl don’t you know that they grow? On trees, you silly, silly girl.”
She laughed, and the whole classroom exploded with laughter. I felt my face flame, my eyes fill and spill over with tears. Where was mummy? where was her pinny smelling of carbolic soap? I needed the comfort of her hand stroking my hair as I buried my face in her lap.
I realise now that the others laughed because she had laughed, they were just as ignorant as I had been, but back then I felt all alone and stupid. How did I now they grew on trees, I’d only ever drunk one from a bottle.
Comments
littleditty | November 21, 2008 - 11:46
this makes my blood boil Val!!! So well told - i haven't even begun to write about school, as a kid, or as a teacher - may be it's time - it really does make me furious when teachers behave this way, disgraceful, damaging, and before i explode in a fit of words, i hope, like most people have, there was one who was positively magic for you! Brilliantly told -obviously it got to me! Thanks Val xx
Bradene | November 21, 2008 - 11:55
Well LD I know they are not like that these days thank the lord, and yes I do have memories of a kinder one, she was my next teacher and was married with a family of her own so had far more empathy with children. In those days there were still a lot of disappointed dried up old maids still teaching. I suppose in one way they were more to be pittied than blamed. These days a woman can choose to be single but back then there was quite a stigma attached to being left on the shelf :) Val x
littleditty | November 21, 2008 - 12:12
may be less so because times and ideology have changed, but in my day too, and in my recent professional life also - vindictive nasty pieces of work still exist, single, married, whatever, they hurt children and make me angry! A form Tutor of mine, who gave us each a number instead of a name, screamed at me once calling me a Slut in front of the whole class - fortunately i knew she was completely nuts and nasty!! Revenge was sweet! I'll write about it! Cheers Val xx
Bradene | November 21, 2008 - 12:15
I shall look forward to reading that LD, I had thought things had improved but then I suppose every generation has its Sadists. Val x
chuck | November 21, 2008 - 19:31
Those teachers were an odd bunch. Very much a product of a Victorian/Prussian system... plus they'd recently just been demobbed themselves. Reminds me of the day the Suez Crisis broke...'Well lads,' said our housemaster in all seriousness, 'we'll soon have you in uniform. Time to teach the wogs another lesson.'
Bradene | November 22, 2008 - 10:38
Cricky! A remark like that would spark an international incident these days and quite rightly too. Thanks for reading chuck. Val x Lol that sounds like a northern term of endearment! :)