Golden Memories: The Striped Jacket

By drkevin

Sun, 06 Dec 2020
  • 377 reads
2 comments
 

 

School in the 1960's was a difficult contradiction of discipline and anarchy. Lesson time was dominated by vicious blokes with hairy nostrils and red faces, flourishing canes and straps at the slightest provocation. One teacher specialised in calming errant pupils by hurling blackboard rubbers at them, once managing to remove two front teeth from an innocent child sitting next to the intended victim. Fights between teachers and pupils were not uncommon.

Playtime, on the other hand, was a free-for-all resembling a zoo with the cage doors open. Snowballs always contained a stone, fights were mandatory, and those from relatively sheltered suburban backgrounds would attempt invisibility on the margins.

Our uniform was a green blazer, white shirt, green and yellow striped tie and black trousers. Even the poorest kids could usually present themselves appropriately because of a system of free vouchers for the needy. One unfortunate chap, however, contrived to turn up on his first day with a red and white striped jacket. He was immediately identified as a member of a different species and chased around the yard by a braying mob, hurling clods of clay with pinpoint precision.

A year later, we were studying 'Lord of the Flies'.

Certificate 12
Story
Other Fiction
Miscellaneous
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by peterelbee on

Hi drkelvin 

I can relate to those sort of experiences.  One of the schools I went to treated us similar to that of a bootcamp. At the start of each day they would blow a whistle and we would all have to freeze in whatever position we were in and not move a muscle for about a minute then trudge in silence to class. There were prefects stragetically positioned in hiding places (like cops) to give out detention to anyone that ran. Instead of walked. 

Most of the teachers had belts at their disposal and thick wooden rulers to swat anyone that misbehaved across the knuckes or the back of their thighs. If you rocked the boat too much the headmaster would cane your hands, which stung, esp on a frosty days when your fingers are numb. It was a culture of dog eat dog with pupils whacking other kids legs with wet tennis balls or sometimes just slapping them to leave a red mark (They called this a "Pinky").  

Did not enjoy ot there, got picked on bullied and chastised by my classmates, bullied by the older kids, and had my fair share of chastisments from teachers. 

Lord of the flies indeed 

Peterelbee

   

 

 

 

 

Submitted by drkevin on

 

Thanks very much for your comment.

The world seems to have turned upside down in the last fifty years and schools in particular appear to be very different places now. These days, it's probably the teachers who get most of the stick.

I'd like to see the old teachers facing the new kids. Fight of the century!