Grammar school Day 1

The day that I started Grammar school was one of those turning points in life. I know that my parents will have struggled to buy the uniform and all of the stuff that went with it - yet another source of resentment for my father. Uniform was strict, and consisted of a navy blue blazer with light blue braid on the lapels, collar and edges. On the breast pocket was the school crest and motto. I remember it well - Parva Magna Crescunt - Studies enter into one's living- I think that is the right translation anyway. Grey shorts were proscribed for all first year boys and all were to wear the hideous cap and tie that went with the blazer. The cap was to be worn at all times apart from in the classroom, even on the bus going home, and there were bus prefects, who not only maintained behaviour, but also enforced the "cap rule", failure to wear the ...king cap led to detention! I was to earn plenty of those later on. Black, lace up shoes, grey socks and a navy blue raincoat completed the outfit. On top of that there were uniforms for games and a separate one for P.E. There were football boots and gym shoes too. Of course there were also the extras; a satchel for books and a duffel bag for sportswear.

Because I had such long and spindly legs, I was given a dispensation to wear long trousers, and this made me stand out from most of my peers who had no such excuse.

I remember the bewilderment of arriving at the "big school" on that first morning. We newcomers were herded into the playground and then led into the "Great Hall" where we were welcomed and given the first of any number of talks about rules and regulations. We were then divided up into form groups and taken away by our group tutors who would be responsible for our pastoral care over the year. Mine was Mr "Curly" Edwards, so called because of his shiny bald head. He was a kindly soul and a music teacher, one who continued to nourish my interest in music. We were 1E and we were small fish in a very large pond. I soon learned that there were loads of kids who were much smarter than I was, and for the first time in my life I found things a bit of a struggle.

It is easy to blame others for one's own failings, especially retrospectively, but the gulf that existed between home and school was more or less impossible to bridge. At home there was no real support for homeworks and nowhere that I could call my own to study. If I had to write, it was at the kitchen table and as this was a focal point of the house, it usually meant that I was in the way. I envied those from middle class families with their own bedrooms, with hot water, indoor toilets and supportive and encouraging parents. However there were others in the same boat as myself and so I had no real reason to complain. I felt myself slipping down the pile though and my academic standards began to drop. I was placed into the C stream and very soon became a C stream student, associating with the less well motivated and badly behaved in the group. As far as school was concerned, my fate was sealed there and then.

I liked school. It was varied and interesting, there were lots of people to talk to and interesting things to do. We had to learn French and woodwork as well as all the usual subjects and there were after school activities; though that was difficult because of buses home. Teachers were firm, discipline was excellent and we all had a health fear of the headmaster. All in all it was a sound and well balanced educational establishment - at least it was until I hit puberty. Then for some reason it all changed.