There’s a lot of “first day at school” posts at the moment and it’s delightful to see how our little chickens are starting so well on their big adventure. I can add my own experience: In January 1953 I started at St Hugh’s Roman Catholic School in Liverpool 7. I joined the classroom very happily and, as I recall, all went very well in the morning. At dinner time I joined the crocodile of children going to the School Dinner Centre and that was just fine. In the afternoon I was seated next to a very shy boy called John Findlay and our teacher Miss Keating, who not only looked as old as God’s dog was probably older, said that we should go to the corner of the classroom and select some wooden blocks to play with. John Findlay was still recovering from the shock of joining school and sat petrified too afraid to move. I went to the stack of blocks and picked up two lots, one for me and one for him and then got a thorough bollocking for being a greedy boy who had to learn to share. I wasn’t scarred by the experience and I’m not bitter, no I’m really not, honest. The hurt will no doubt evaporate in another 20 years or so.
Posted on: Wed, 10 Sep 2014 20:25:43 +0000
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