D22 #100WorkingDays Stepping away

 At this time of year school days are seen to end in the UK as A level results are announced. Social media fills with congratulations from proud parents, and advice for those who face disappointment. Clearly some young people have goals they aim to achieve. I’m not sure I envy them that as my experience was different. 

Early school days were not easy for me and learning felt a frightening chore at times. In secondary school there were opportunities and bright spots, contrasting with my teenage angst about life in general. The impact of that sense of doom was on my confidence. Though there were probably more places and people to turn to I didn’t recognise them nor appreciate their potential value.

I spent two sixth form years in Economics and English, and picking up Art. I was very inward looking and realise now I can’t have been easy to be around with at that time. Even so I know some cared enough to support and save me, and my relief at that is immense. Subsequent reunions that include teachers and contemporaries have reassured me. They’ve also shown how much I missed about the lives I had around me and what was happening to those folk. It feels selfish of me looking again at those times.

My A levels were failures, shaping the next few years and choices. Stepping away from school was going to be an uncertain path. This was a time of low confidence, having to rely on perseverance and the integrity instilled in me to take future steps.

 16th century steps Córdoba 

D18, #100WorkingDays Character forming

 After the debacle of 11 plus I went to Southfields School. At that stage I think I was unaware of the last impact the last primary school teacher, and failing had upon me. The 11 plus has been, and remains an area of contention with educationalists and politicians. For me, I believe I was the better for avoiding grammar school and the conformity and competition that’s part of the ethos.

My comprehensive gave me a less intense approach, and with a real experience of pastoral support. It meant finding and making new friends, few of whom lived near me. I have few memories of early secondary days though French lessons, and walking around to the art lessons that were originally at a separate site on Garret Lane. The new buildings were a revelation as we gradually moved into them. A key area was the house block were we went for lunch and assemblies most days of the week. The head of house was an important part of our lives at school. Miss Stevens was head of Blake house leading us with a gentle firm hand. I made progress in most areas of the curriculum though not all were taught to the high standards that some were. 

There was a recording studio and very active drama department that provided opportunities for out of classroom activities. I enjoyed the plays and productions that I joined in. The studio gave us a chance to dabble in the art of presenting plays and musical programs. Interestingly several school contemporaries ended up in careers related to electronics and TV production roles. One time we were taken to meet a sound effects expert at the BBC. He had worked with the Goons as well as many other shows. We spent a delightful time and I can still beat out horses hooves with two half coconuts.So I guess I was growing up and becoming surer of myself. Hormones kicked in at some point and I guess there was a level of teenage angst amongst the years there. Overall I think I was helped to see there were things I was good at. Writing was one and the school magazine published some of my poetry. 

So my character developed and there have been school time friends across the globe I’ve kept in touch with. And as recent school reunions have shown, many of us have stories of our ups and downs at school but ultimately we’ve survived.

D16, Testing times #100WorkingDays

 As my unrecognised difficult times at primary school came to an end I was faced with the 11 plus. A way of segregating children based on their performance in a one off exam, when aged 10  (as I was) or 11, dependent on when one’s birthday fell. The result meant a grammar school or secondary education. 

The whole thing was a mystery to me and inevitably I failed the exam. Then the local authorities said they had no secondary school for me to go to, another strange thing to me. A sense of not being wanted was strong and fortunately my dad knew there’d be a way out of the impasse. He approached the neighbouring education authority, known then as the Inner London Education Authority (ILEA) to see if they could help. ILEA happened to be his employer albeit in a very different area, so he had a contact or two to get advice from. 

The upshot was going to Southfields School, a burgeoning comprehensive that was being rebuilt with a recently appointed new headteacher. So a new school beckoned, but fractured local friendships as we went separate ways. Then this word entered my world and has had a lasting impact.

Primary delights and difficulties, d6, #100WorkingDays

 It was time to start school, and my first school was only a walk away. I don’t think anyone was driven there. I have pleasing memories of early teachers such as Mrs E, and Mrs H. We had the daily third of a pint of milk to drink. At times if you were well behaved you got to be a milk monitor. However on hot days the milk often turned sour, an experience that still limits me to very cold milk. There was plenty of space to play, singing folk songs and being creative.

Later, I had the same teacher for my last two years there and he has left a legacy from his psychological abuse. I eventually discovered through other classmates it wasn’t just me he bullied. That has helped me understand why I am conscious of such behaviour, as well as understanding more about myself and my self-confidence. The school still stands, and I’m sure does a good job. Education at any age requires sensitivity, patience and imagination. It needs resources of time and some money in order to let people flourish.

Watch out! - for the little things

I’m into week three of my induction period after joining an NHS acute trust. These days we’re all in a uniform of some kind or mufti; a big change since I was last working in such an environment is being bare below the elbows. Brought in as we became more conscious of infection risks ties have largely gone too.

So after several decades of wearing a wrist watch that habit has had to change too. “You can get the time from your phone” I hear you exclaim; but I’ve worn a wrist watch for much longer that digital timepieces were available, when analogue meant winding up the watch or clock yourself. And to get time from the phone meant dialling the speaking clock.

Why is this worthy of mention? The watch I’ve worn for some years now belonged to my late dad, and it was given to him after many years work as a teacher and head teacher in inner London. It’s served as a reminder of his commitment to education and those in his care; whose learning and development were so important.

It’s also reminded me of him as a person and father and of his love of public service and doing good things through that service. It’s been a little disconcerting not to have it handy to refer to. It’s meant I’ve had to develop a new ‘check my phone for the time’ thing though I still go to my wrist and wonder why there’s a gap. It’s made me reflect on loss and grief; another step away from him. It’s chipped at the inspiration the watch has provided as well as a sense of time. I always like to be just a little early and a watch is a quick way to check times progress. Now I have to rely on my phone, or the occasional wall clock, to be sure I’m timely.

Not having the watch has been a distinct loss that I wanted to mark through speaking up about it; it’s about the difference little things can mean to people. This was emphasised to me again this week listening to Chris Pointon speak about Dr Kate Granger and the build up and progress of the #HelloMyNameIs campaign. Do look the campaign up if you’ve not heard of it; even if you know about it, remember little things when left out or ignored can have an impact much bigger than we can ever realise.

Long time since school, the teachers influence remains

Over the last year I've joined the school reunion site on Facebook; a closed group that refers to Southfields School in SW London. It's an academy now too though it appears not to have lost its community feel.
Joining the group have been some of the teachers I studied with (more or less successfully on my part) and one, Gill Goldenberg is now in Uganda for a month teaching English. 
I've added a link to her blog to my own page here or follow this link. 
It's worth the read to see what conditions are like where Gill is.

The educational experience of so many around the world is so different to that we experienced at Southfields that I'm reminded how fortunate we were to have had the physical and human resources we experienced. I was able to witness what life is like in some township and the contrasting private schools in South Africa in 2015 & 2017. 
All around I believe teachers and support staff make the places work for better or worse and I remain grateful for all the time and energy the likes of Gill, Pat Bedford, and a host of others put into helping me learn and develop. I still think of myself as work in progress and that too is a testament to the importance the teachers I came across gave to continuing learning.