We inherited the Empire
Hearts of Oak
and school desks,
surrounded by proud maps
of our world possessed,
teachers living on in ancient jackets
or long skirts, rheumy eyes
haunted by the war,
while our inkpots were primed.
A scooped trough held pens
with push - on nibs
scratching some semblance of sense
to those who judged
fair or foul intent.
Our escape was an effrontery of bikes,
a scattering away
and an inevitable return
with hours, futures to burn.
My school years came back with these evocative lines....
crossing educational and geographical boundaries - from a
private school on the coast where my mother was the
matron, to a "high school" run by the lady who gave it its
name, to a (thankfully!) passing acquaintance with a
village school (where ink pots, tiny desks and copy book writing return to haunt me) - and finally my luck entering
a grammar school in a fondly remembered rural part of west Wiltshire.
Some teachers remain - for good or bad - in the memory,
not least one who would descend on us, arms flailing
like a demented windmill, at some imagined lack of attention or juvenile misbehaviour. It was my habit of
drawing pert female breasts in the margin of an exercise
book that led to my own near-miss from his
attention...mainly because he was too busy passing by
under his self-propulsion to see what I'd been creating
in my pre-pubescent artistic leanings.
<Deleted User> (13762)
Wed 9th May 2018 10:38
I only ever wanted to escape - especially those foul-breathed teachers in ancient jackets that dozed and picked their nose through mindlessly dull lessons. They should have been put out to pasture years ago. Oh the joys of state comprehensive education in the 70's! I'm afraid I have no affection or nostalgia for my later school years Ray but I accept others will. Sadly, despite all our new technologies and the removal of the aforementioned bores, state education remains pretty shite. I best be careful, I feel I'm slipping into angry rant mode this morning! Best wishes. Col.
and oh, they were such bullies some of them...'teachers'
Those bloody pens were impossible to use without spattering ink on the upstroke.
Ray,
this does evoke memories of Empire Day which is now Commonwealth Day; of teachers brought out of retirement to care for us, as the younger ones had been killed during the war. To this day I still use a fountain pen. Yet I well remember being the ink monitor whose duty it was to replenish all the ink wells in the classroom. A poem which captures a nostalgia for an era long since gone. Thank you for this.
Keith
<Deleted User> (18980)
Tue 8th May 2018 22:00
Proper schooling Ray with blackboards and dip pens. Not bloody interactive white boards and computer screens. And caning...wonderful!
<Deleted User> (18118)
Tue 8th May 2018 21:59
Somehow school desks become a part of us when we're at school.
The first verse is powerful, a different world, then memories of pens and clothes. Was always fascinated by my teacher's clothes.
I love your writing and the way you read it.
Hannah
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raypool
Thu 10th May 2018 20:18
Thank you Hannah - the world has changed radically since those days. School was more regimented in the fifties, and small rituals to be observed. We had to wax our desks every Friday! What I didn't mention was free standing blackboards with the groove for chalks and eraser, which was often thrown at us in temper.
Yes Brian, the sting of the birch on the hand - " jolly batey " as Peter Cook said to Dudley. At my secondary school it was customary on Fridays to receive strokes from the teacher (and the cane.)
Many thanks Anya. A glorious past (I don't think).
Yes Keith, I remember when us kids had our own Union Jacks for school. I actually had football shorts made by my Mum out of blackout curtaining, kept after the war.
Didn't endear me to the PT teacher. Do you recall as I do when older kids used to add iron sulphide(I think it was) to inkwells to give off that farty smell?
Ah! John. Bloody awful implements - and they were supplied to the GPO too I remember. Seems very Dickensian now. We were expected to write in copper plate as well!
Thanks for the comparative update Col. Your comment reminds me of "Please Sir" with John Alderton and of course Deryck Guyler as the janitor, wonderful. You're right, there were some sadists in charge, bangers of heads and the like.
Mark, thanks for the reminiscences, each one a gem to the sufferer or the enlightened. One troublesome lad drew a cartoon of the teacher with jug ears on his palm, leaving it for him to see, with the name underneath . when asked "what's that?" the boy said " a monkey sir."
He was lifted bodily out of the room .
Nice to get all your responses ! Ray