Hello everyone
Once again it is the international creative writing challenge held every month amongst a great group of bloggers pitching in with their thoughts. I am joining with 9 other lovely people – do have a look at what they have to say. It is so interesting to see the different interpretations that people take on these themes. All their details and links are at the end of this piece.
This month the theme is Schooldays, which was chosen by me!! I expect you’re wondering what I might have to say. Will it be all about the ‘old-school’ schools I went to? Well, yes, I will tell you a couple of things about my education, of which some aspects were so old fashioned there is nothing like that anymore. But I also want to take a quick look at our class-based system of schooling that dominates our political and public life – to its detriment I’d say.
Actually, I can’t separate the two parts of this theme as: our class-based system of schooling and my schooldays are so deeply intertwined. My parents came back from India in 1947 when I was 1 year-old and must have begun a search for a school soon after. By the time I went to school it must have been 1951, so readers, just imagine the life in the very early 1950s. For instance, occasionally we went to the centre of London, and I can remember seeing bomb sites from the Second World War – I am that old!!
So, would my parents have sought out a State school? Never! Never, in a million years would they have done that. Now let’s be clear they were not wealthy. After the war my father did not stay on in the army, instead he retrained as a Chartered Accountant and in those days, you had to pay for the privilege of doing that, so for two to three years my parents lived on his army savings, they even bought a house in that time (for a couple of hundred pounds I expect!). But that wiped them out.
And yet they found a school, and so began a series of schools which, mostly, I wasn’t suited to and on reflection were not much good, but they were in my parent’s eyes because they were fee-paying. Oh gosh, and deep sigh, do I sound rather sour here? Perhaps, I do. Another deep sigh, my poor parents, they wanted the best for us, me and my sister, Elizabeth. They just came from the sort of people who had the mindset that paying school fees was the only way to do things. After all, you could not have your children mixing with ….. That’s what I often heard when I was a child.
But.
It took me years to get over my education, and indeed my whole life has been a rebellion and a pushback against received, normative and elitist ideas – and especially that of the benefits of private, fee-paying education. You can push a child one way, but the result might be quite different to what you expect!
Before I say more on my views about private education here’s a couple of stories about my schooldays.
Picture this, my first school was in an ordinary house. There were 4 ‘forms’ each with quite a large group of children and there was only one toilet. I don’t think health and safety was in anyone’s mind when they sent their children to this school as we were stuffed into these rooms, there were many ‘accidents’, and at lunchtime you sat at your desk to eat. I think there was a small garden to play in.
I don’t have much recollection of those days, apart from an incredibly long walk to the school as we lived in one part of this suburb of London and the school was in another part altogether. I think the walk took an hour, but it was fee-paying so it was alright, according to my parents!
Two to three years on and my family moved to a leafy green village called Horsell, which was near Woking in Surrey. This school was a walkable distance from our house, and compared to nowadays was very small (around 100-120, I think) but at the time it didn’t seem like that to me. The school took boarders (more about boarding in a minute) as well as day girls from 4-18. It closed in 1967 after several financial crises.
And what do you know, I Googled its name, St Mary’s Hill School, and found this! Please do look as it is such a blast from the past. Thank you Woking History Group for compiling this fascinating account of the school’s last days. As soon as I saw the photographs I thought wow – this is exactly how it was. Geez I was there in those rooms!.
I remember the headmistress, Miss Auer (pronounced Hour) and that room of hers with the grand piano (I’ve played on it) and the classrooms. Incidentally the photo of one classroom is actually two classrooms. Those dividing panels would have been closed, so each ‘form’ or class was incredibly small. Each desk had an inkwell and I recall I was an ink monitor in charge of mixing the ink from powder and water and dispensing it into the inkwells and giving out the blotting paper too!
The dining room, yes, I can see where I usually sat! One of my abiding memories is of the horrid boiled fish which we had to eat on a Friday! And don’t forget milk puddings (one was called frog spawn) and that lumpy custard. Click here for a look at 1950s school dinners. There were very large and beautiful grounds because, of course, this too had once been a family home.
I was very happy at this school but academically I don’t think it cut the mustard as 50% of the time was spent on the arts, drama, theatre productions and elocution lessons. As a result, we were all very well-spoken young gels. And do repeat that in a Maggie Smith/Downton Abbey accent. I thought it was great to act in plays, sing and declaim poetry in local and national competitions. But studying for A-levels? I can’t think how that would have panned out!
Anyway, there was some kind of financial crisis (long before the final crisis that closed the school in 1967) and my parents took me away as they were convinced the school would close.
So off I went for one term to a school, whose name I cannot recall. That was a stop-gap before I landed up in what is now quite a renowned all-girls school, that was fee-paying of course.
I won’t say the name of this school as I did not enjoy my time there. First of all, we had to be boarders for a year (something about getting us into that school at any cost). Yes, they would take me and my sister, but we had to take a boarding place – which was an interesting experience.
There was the dorm to get used to and undressing in front of other girls. The meals, very quickly you learnt the ‘correct’ (according to them) way to eat toast or bread – you do not butter the entire piece of bread, instead you put a piece of butter on your plate (likewise the jam) on the side of your plate and butter it bit by bit. You don’t question that you can only have a bath once a week and wash your hair every two weeks. Then there was the timetable, which dominated your entire day and, as a boarder, your weekend. The walks to church on Sunday. Gosh, do you learn quickly to fit in to the regime and conform.
But it wasn’t all bad as I remember a couple of midnight feasts and how daring we all felt to climb out of the window and go into a summer night with squash, cakes and chocolate! And actually the food we had was stupendous and I still remember with fondness the meat pies and the glorious puddings. The bacon roly-poly served with white onion sauce was my favourite followed by chocolate sponge pudding with a chocolate sauce.
After a year I had become a daygirl, and I joined the gang that came by train to school. It was a humungous journey, with a bus ride to the station, then the train, then another train, then a mile-long walk to arrive in plenty of time so you could hang up your coat (who remembers the smell of those cloak rooms!) and hand in your homework before Assembly at 9.0am. Those girls formed my friendship group, and I kept up with them after I left the school for quite a time.
Academically, my sister and I were considered ‘very behind’. No surprise there after the arts-based emphasis of our last school, but my parents were a bit taken aback. And slightly academically backward I remained right up to the age of 18, as I didn’t get all that many O-levels and I failed my A-levels. For years I was hopeless at exams but finally, dear reader, as a mature student not only did I get a good degree in International Relations (a 2.1 at the age of 40) I also got an MA in Sociology, so I think my actual education (and you can take that in so many ways as I will explain) began when I left school.
One of the things I had no knowledge of whatsoever, which is now kind of unheard of today (although there are still a few all-girl schools) was the whole question of – boys! My school was all girls, my teachers were all women, my friends were girls, my sister was a girl (!) and my parents were of the kind that didn’t ‘entertain’ so there were no friends of parents with sons. Geez – how to even talk to someone of the other sex! I mean over the years I just never met any! Yes, in my teens there were parties, there were ‘dances’ I was invited to, but over and over again, I was the tall and quite plump, spotty pudding-like wallflower standing awkwardly waiting for a ’dance’.
OK I learnt to relate to ‘boys’, but it took me years!
And then there was the question of class. Throughout my childhood I never met anyone who was not ‘either middle-middle class or upper middle class’. And readers from the States, our middle class is very different to yours, it includes all professionals. And upper middle class types would be the parents with a lot of private money and family connections through schooling, and maybe even some landowners. I met no-one socially who was working class whatsoever not, that is, until my early twenties. Incredible and rather awful, I obviously think now, but then it was just normal.
Consequently one form of rebellion I took against my background and upbringing was to marry a man from working-class background who was not an army officer – what a hoot I think now! But don’t you think I made a great choice.
And 50 years later?
This whole piece on my Schooldays (which I hope hasn’t bored you to tears) has left me very little time and space to talk about my views on private education – that really should go in My Other Blog.
But I will say this. Only a small proportion of British children go to private or, as they are often called, independent schools. In 2011 there were more than 2500 private schools educating some 628,000 children, which comprises around 6.5% of UK children. A select number of these schools (mostly for boys) are in fact called public schools, and it is these that usually have fees amounting to £40,000 per year and upwards for boarders and around £15,000 for day pupils.
Despite there being scholarships and means-tested bursaries for those who cannot afford the high fees private school education in Britain is seen as used primarily by the wealthy, the aristocracy and the upper middle classes. This represents a rather narrow and small part of British society and yet those who have had a private school education, especially those from the elite public schools, go on to dominate the professional and political life, and even artistic life of this country, to its detriment. More could be said – do look at the further reading and the Green, Kynaston article. But these schools are engines of privilege.
And not only that, they are unsafe places for children. I’m talking about boarding from the age of 6 or 7. Remember what I said about conforming, they (I’m talking about boys here) they soon learn to conform, they soon learn to stop crying for their mothers. This is the life of the elite – they get a very good education, there’s no doubt about that. These schools have wonderful teachers and amazing resources and facilities. But they learn to smother their emotions. But hey, they do leave with their networks and connections, for sure.
And let’s continue with these places being unsafe for small boys, I haven’t even started on the abuse that occurs, which has been very well reported by survivors – see further reading.
So, Schooldays! Gosh, I nearly got into a rant just then! Apologies, and I’m sure some of my readers had a great time at a private school. But I’m trying to see schooling in Britain in the round and at the effect this type of education, that is so embedded into our society, has on British life. Although goodness me, I never said. The new Labour government might just start taxing private schools because, unbelievably many of these public schools have charitable status – I mean, what! Unfortunately I’m already reading that this might prove to be difficult. I bet it is, as these private schools won’t want to be taxed at all, and there will be much resistance.
Anyway, enough, that was Schooldays but further reading
F Green, D Kynaston. Britain’s private school education: it’s time to talk. Guardian, 13.12 2019
S Kuper, Chums. How a tiny Caste of Oxford Tories Took Over the UK
A Renton, Stiff Upper Lip, Secrets, Crimes and the Schooling of the Ruling Class
C Spencer, A Very Private School
Now it’s time for my lovely fellow writers to have their say: Let’s start with Jill from GrownUpGlamour whose take on this is a smattering of memories from my long ago schooldays. Click here to read this
Marsha spent the majority of her life in school, either as a student or as a teacher, and sometimes both! Click on her blog Marsha in the Middle to read all about her life spent at school.
Debbie shares memories of her schooldays in Australia, and sending her daughters to school in Cheddar (UK) where by coincidence she’s currently staying! Click here for more about Deb’s insight into education in two different countries.
For October’s prompt, Leslie reflects on a long but beloved career as a school librarian. Find her on her blog at Once Upon a Time & Happily Ever After
Anne a newcomer to this creative writing challenge (Welcome Anne!) writes about her current job teaching Photoshop and Illustrator to fashion design BFA students. Find her on her blog Spygirl
Mary Katherine ponders her Schooldays, and what she learned that she actually used in her later life. Click here to read more about the things she learnt and then used.
Suzy reflects on her varied and memorable schooldays, from culture shocks and cherished friendship to inspiring teachers and unexpected changes. Find her here on her website.
Rosie is another newcomer to Tell Us About (it’s lovely to see you here, Rosie). She tells us all about her village primary school and a very special ‘School Girl’ rose! Click here to read this.
And finally Gail of Is This Mutton who began this through-provoking challenge (well it is for me!) serves up some amusing memories from school, including the missing gerbil and her mum’s ride home in a hearse! Click here for more of this tantalising piece of writing.
That really is all for now, thank you so much for reading this to the end.
With love, Penny, the Frugalfashionshopper
Lovely to read about your school days! What a different world right. And what a lovely photo of the two of you!
It was such a different world. My poor parents, they never recovered from the Swinging Sixties and seeing men with long hair – so I married a man with long hair! 🤣
Thanks Nancy 😊
Thank you Penny, what an experience you’ve had and quite eye-opening. Private education here really does follow its own agenda. I knew a friend who sent her child to the local private school, where they relied on second-hand and very dated computers, and focused on the arts, and that was only 10 years ago, yet the parents were paying good fees. IMO the nearby primary school offered a much better education for ‘free’. I say that in inverted commas, because there was always fund-raising and trips to pay for.
https://rosieamber.wordpress.com/
Hi Rosie and yes, of course there is a spectrum of private schooling and there are still some private schools that do not have the huge resources of the older well established private schools – these may even go under when VAT kicks in. When a State schools works well it is the very best kind of education you can get. The narrowness of private schools is not to be recommended.
Thanks Rosie and it’s great that you’ve joined in with this challenge 😊
Thank you Penny , interesting reading about your private school education . I did go over and read about the primary school you attended that closed , quite a step back in time.
Rebellious you , fancy marrying a state school educated boy , I bet that raised some eyebrows.
Your English private school system certainly made it to Australia with its elitist overtones .
My cousins called me ‘Red Penny’ and not just for the colour of my hair! So glad you looked at that link – it was such a blast from the past!
That’s so interesting that Australia too has that type of private school. WE always think of Australia as so egalitarian – but I guess there is always an elite.
Thanks Jill 😊
As always, your approach is so thoughtful and considered. I absolutely agree with you that our class system is embedded in our education system and Labour’s idea of removing the VAT holiday from private schools as long overdue. If they find it difficult to pay VAT then class sizes will have to get bigger, facilities will have to be more economically used, belts will have to be tightened. A bit like what has been going on with state schools for years and years really. I have no sympathy.
Like you, I was privately educated for most of my life but I also went to state primary school for the first few years and I had a year at Canadian high school when I was 15 so my horizons were broadened by these experiences . Like you I married a working class boy from council house and grammar school. 50 years later we are still married and eventually my parents accepted him!
Mary
Oh Mary, we think along the same lines. These private/independent schools, with their huge resources and advantages, makes the not paying of any tax simply astonishing. I mean they’re registered as charities? That is even more astonishing and very annoying!
Yes, your education was broader than mine. It took me years to learn more about life and the people who live in this island! But that learning I’ve enjoyed, as I have my marriage to my working class hero! And you too have managed 50 years – hurrah to both of us for that!
Thanks so much for reading this and commenting 😊
I just wrote a long post but apparently pushed the wrong key and it disappeared. and it has been a challenge as Asher, a little gray cat I rescued as a stray from the barn tack room yesterday has been busy exploring the keyboard. I always felt like and outsider until as a teenager of 14 insisted I transfer to an all girls Catholic school where we all wore dark green uniforms. no longer being mocked for wearing the same clothing by girls with huge wardrobes and daddy’s money. And no boys to contend with. it saved my life. and when it came to college again I went against my parents dream of my attending the large state university where they had met and graduated. I chose a small local all girls college, where I received an excellent education, met friends I still see and oh by the way met my husband. I married right out of college but also got an assistantship for my masters degree. I actually spent the next few years raising the kids and being a housewife until the marriage ended and realized I needed to get a PhD in my field of psychology in order to support myself. It too me a while to complete the degree but here I am having had a good career. going to leave it thee before the cat comes back . Love, Darby
It is so interesting to read this as of course there is a down side to having mixed-sex schools, one of which is inappropriate behaviour etc etc. Oh and of course these fee-paying schools always have uniforms. In fact a huge number of our State schools have uniforms too. Despite the expense of uniforms (and the worry that must cause with parents with little money) I do think uniforms are the best way forward – there isn’t the competition around the clothes you wear!!!
Aww, so glad you’ve got a cat, but kitties can be very lively!
It has been so interesting to read about other people’s experience of school. Sorry you had a problem and thank you so much for persevering and putting up your comment, which I read with such pleasure every time 😊
Penny, Such an interesting point of view and blast from the past! It brought back so many memories of being at private school with you, and particularly being a boarder. Do you remember those drab, blue calf-length dresses we had to wear that made us look like workhouse orphans! I appreciated my parents attempt to give us a great education even though I did not apply myself as I should. Unless you can get a full ride scholarship (sports or otherwise), everyone over here in the States, rich or poor, has to pay huge tuition fees and the universities receive enormous amounts of grant money and tax-free perks.
I know, I hadn’t realised first of all, how it would bring back so many memories. Finding the link about the school in Horsell was a real blast from the past with the photographs that looked as though I went to school in the 1930s 🤣
Do you remember the house we lived in Horsell? It was The Corner House, Bury Lane, Horsell. Astonishly it has been cut in half and is now 7 Ormand Road, Horsell. (There was always a path to the front door from Ormand Road.)
What happened is, that when my father sold The Corner House, that very year a bungalow was built in the garden. But now there are two houses in the garden, one of which encroaches on the missing half of the Corner House. Was so astonished when I saw it!
Further education is getting more expensive here but nothing like the States fortunately.
And yes, our parents really did want the best for us – I so understand that. I didn’t appreciate it at the time but I do now.
Thanks for commenting Jan, it was good to connect on this – I mean that journey to our school was a long one! Thanks again 🙂
Many thanks for this enjoyable and fascinating blog Penny. Great pics of you and Bill: always a good-looking couple!
Although this is a small country people/communities are very different. I so envied* children going to boarding school. Not that I knew any – only through comics which were very middle/upper class with stories of late-night eating in the ‘dorm’ and other ‘capers’. (Very upper class that word – ah?) When The Belles of St. Trinians was released, I loved it. It all seemed so much fun compared to my life and schooling.
Your travelling such a long distance to school is so very different to my experience. I grew up in the same street as my Dad and went to the same school as him, about a mile walk from home. My secondary school was my parent’s second choice. Their first choice was a Church of England school – not because we were particularly religious, but simply because it was less than a mile from home in the opposite direction. I ended up in a school in another neighbourhood – three miles away!
I’m sure changing schools was stressful but, back then, I envied* ‘new girls’ like you who joined/left my school or moved home: I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. (Envy* one of the pillars shoring up the class system!)
I began primary school aged five, the same day as P and C; we are still friends – 73 years later. When we were 11 we all went to the same ‘secondary modern’ girls school and became friends with G. She completed our group. Those three friends still live in/close to our home town – Romford – and we meet up once a year for a boozy catch-up lunch/afternoon.
At the secondary school, there was an A and a B class. We were in the B class. We were not encouraged academically. We’d imbibed the message education wasn’t for us. We’d been written off, but we knew we weren’t stupid. I remember my eyes burning with tears of rage when the A form was taken on a school trip to Expo 58 – the World Trade Fair in Brussels and we were taken to the Ideal Home Exhibition – reinforcing the notion we were ‘only going to get married’.
Girls in the A form were given career advice. We were given job guidance. P & C went to work in Boots the Chemist, G went to Marks & Sparks. Several other girls in our class became machinists in a clothing factory and one became a packer in a transistor radio factory. (Perhaps ‘just getting married was a good idea!)
I decided I wanted to be a receptionist – the most glamorous job I could think of. I always loved clothes and make-up so I had a vision of myself – ‘dolled up’, red-painted nails, smiling and greeting people as I’d seen in films. Failing that, the other job I fancied was an usherette: I’d get to see the films and flash a torch directing people to their seats – oh, such glamour and power 😉
In fact, I became a filing clerk – surely the most mind-bogglingly boring job to ever give a 15-year-old. I became friends with my filing instructor, V. She was a few months older than me and had started when she was 15 too. We agreed we didn’t want to waste our lives filing so starting playing silly jokes on our colleagues: hiding the toilet chains, drawing in lipstick on the mirrors, moving stuff around … being generally bloody annoying. (We became offended when our colleagues said they knew it was us – on the grounds nobody else was as stupid as us.) Our boss, Mr Ashworth was a lovely man. He also said he knew it was us. But, much to our surprise, was sympathetic: our work was boring. He suggested V and I go to ‘Night School’ to learn to type. We quickly realised copy typists were not as well paid as secretaries, so began English and shorthand classes. (Oh, for the days when anyone could learn/enjoy affordable, local authority-run adult education.) Next came art then Practical Philosophy, I was then on a roll … hungry for knowledge, experience – and a different life.
I rocked up in Brixton, less than an hour from Romford but a whole different world. From a place where few people left, but many were ‘left behind’ to a multi-cultural hub thriving with feminists, gay activists and people of all ethnicities – eager to get on and change things/themselves.
I’d finally found a place where I could thrive: I could put my energy and frustrations to good use. I got involved in the women’s movement and community development, became a Field Officer for Shelter – working with homeless families being refused housing: an eye opener in itself(!) which led me to working as a researcher for a Labour MP, studying Social Administration at the LSE, and fully appreciating this is not a fair, democratic country! (Who knew?)
By chance, I worked/became friends with a man who has successfully steered more Bills through Parliament to become Acts (law) than anybody else – ever – in our country. Last count: 25.
He is currently working with the Zero Hour campaign on the Climate and Nature Bill: http://www.ZeroHour.UK
I then changed course: training to become a psychotherapist, facilitator/trainer and coach. Later I trained as an image/colour consultant and, through my media experience, supporting people to wear their clothes with confidence and flair and go on TV to tell their stories/stand up for their communities/rights. (How lucky am I?)
And, ultimately, earning my living as a writer, agony aunt/tea shop reviewer (yes, someone has to do it!) I’m currently volunteering with refugees seeking work. Working on my memoirs and promoting the work of my friend, Irish writer Colm Clifford O… who tragically died of Aids just as his career was taking off. (BTW: there’s a dressed, staged reading in London 6/7/8February)
A few things have stayed constant in my ‘education’: Damage lasts!
A burning desire that people are not written off.
And the knowledge: there’s more to all of us than first meets the eye.
And, yes, my love of clothes, make-up and painted nails…
All the very best, Penny. Mary xx
Apologies that my reply was posted twice. No idea how I managed that! Red faced. M.
Wow, Mary, I am so thankful for all the replies to this blog like yours, that share so much of their schooldays. But yours goes further. And rather like me you continued your search for knowledge, life and indeed further education with such vigour. I’m afraid the weight of my education and indeed family life and its effect, continued for quite some time. My training at St Thomas’ was like a continuation of boarding school as we were regimented from the moment we woke up and continued until we went to bed.
At the age of 18 we were given huge responsibilities one the ward (even as very junior nurses and very unlike today’s training ). But off it, the warding off of boys continued as we lived in various houses around Chelsea, in fact, in the mid 1960s I walked up and down the King’s Road, Chelsea in miniskirt but unfortunately with my 50s upbringing head, so there was no swinging whatsoever on my part! But back to that nurses’ home (it was definitely called that) a retired nurse sat behind a desk in the reception area (picture a martinet type with grey hair and forbidding look) and forbade any male visitors whatsoever, not even brothers were allowed in! If we wanted to go out in the evening we had to be back before 10.0pm when the door was locked. And if you were not back you had one warning and then you were out, for good. Geez it was worse than boarding school! But there was still a view hanging around that nursing was a vocation so I honestly think they had a view that we should behave like nuns. Actually what with the advent of the pill, later on in my training behaviour became very much more lax.
Space will not allow me the entire tale of my post-school academic education and certainly not my learning about the opposite sex – and I’m not sure it is printable here 🤣 but I grew up when I moved on at the age of 21-22 to do my pschiatric nursing at the Maudsley. That is when I met people, as in fellow nurses, who were from working class origins. My education in every way, began at that exact point in my life.
And there endeth my response. Oh my word, Mary, this has been so exhilarating and interesting to read comments on the blog. Thanks so much and an email will come your way this coming week. 😊
Many thanks for this fascinating blog Penny. And the great pics of you and Bill: always a good-looking couple!
Although this is a small country people/communities are very different. I so envied* children going to boarding school.
Not that I knew any – only through comics which were very middle/upper class with stories of late-night eating in the ‘dorm’ and other ‘capers’. (Very upper class that word – ah?) When The Belles of St. Trinians was released, I loved it. It all seemed so much fun compared to my life and schooling.
You travelling such a long distance to school is so very different to my experience. I grew up in the same street as my Dad and went to the same school as him, about a mile walk from home. My secondary school was my parent’s second choice. Their first choice was a Church of England school – not because we were particularly religious, simply because it was less than a mile from home in the opposite direction. I ended up in a school in another neighbourhood – three miles away!
I’m sure changing schools was stressful but, back then, I envied* ‘new girls’ like you who joined/left my school or moved home: I knew I wasn’t going anywhere. (Envy* one of the pillars shoring up the class system!)
I began primary school aged five, the same day as P and C; we are still friends – 73 years later. When we were 11 we all went to the same ‘secondary modern’ girls school and became friends with G. She completed our group. Those three friends still live in/close to our home town – Romford – and we meet up once a year for a boozy catch-up lunch/afternoon.
At the secondary school, there was an A and a B class. We were in the B class. We were not encouraged academically. We’d imbibed the message education wasn’t for us. We’d been written off, but we knew we weren’t stupid. I remember my eyes burning with tears of rage when the A form was taken on a school trip to Expo 58 – the World Trade Fair in Brussels and we were taken to the Ideal Home Exhibition – reinforcing the notion we were ‘only going to get married’.
Girls in the A form were given career advice. We were given job guidance. P & C went to work in Boots the Chemist, G went to Marks & Sparks. Several other girls in our class became machinists in a clothing factory and one became a packer in a transistor radio factory. (Perhaps ‘just getting married was a good idea!)
I decided I wanted to be a receptionist – the most glamorous job I could think of. I always loved clothes and make-up so I had a vision of myself – ‘dolled up’, red-painted nails, smiling and greeting people as I’d seen in films. Failing that, the other job I fancied was an usherette: I’d get to see the films and flash a torch directing people to their seats – oh, such glamour and power 😉
In fact, I became a filing clerk – surely the most mind-bogglingly boring job to ever give a 15-year-old. I became friends with my filing instructor, V. She was a few months older than me and had started when she was 15 too. We agreed we didn’t want to waste our lives filing so starting playing silly jokes on our colleagues: hiding the toilet chains, drawing in lipstick on the mirrors, moving stuff around … being generally bloody annoying. (We became offended when our colleagues said they knew it was us – on the grounds nobody else was as stupid as us.) Our boss, Mr Ashworth was a lovely man. He also said he knew it was us. But, much to our surprise, was sympathetic: our work was boring. He suggested V and I go to ‘Night School’ to learn to type. We quickly realised copy typists were not as well paid as secretaries, so began English and shorthand classes. (Oh, for the days when anyone could learn/enjoy affordable, local authority-run adult education.) Next came art then Practical Philosophy, I was then on a roll … hungry for knowledge, experience – and a different life.
I rocked up in Brixton, less than an hour from Romford but a whole different world. From a place where few people left, but many were ‘left behind’ to a multi-cultural hub thriving with feminists, gay activists and people of all ethnicities – eager to get on and change things/themselves.
I’d finally found a place where I could thrive: I could put my energy and frustrations to good use. I got involved in the women’s movement and community development, became a Field Officer for Shelter – working with homeless families being refused housing: an eye opener in itself(!) which led me to working as a researcher for a Labour MP, studying Social Administration at the LSE, and fully appreciating this is not a fair, democratic country! (Who knew?)
By chance, I worked/became friends with a man who has successfully steered more Bills through Parliament to become Acts (law) than anybody else – ever – in our country. Last count: 25.
He is currently working with the Zero Hour campaign on the Climate and Nature Bill: http://www.ZeroHour.UK
I then changed course: training to become a psychotherapist, facilitator/trainer and coach. Later I trained as an image/colour consultant and, through my media experience, supporting people to wear their clothes with confidence and flair and go on TV to tell their stories/stand up for their communities/rights. (How lucky am I?)
And, ultimately, earning my living as a writer, agony aunt/tea shop reviewer (yes, someone has to do it!) I’m currently volunteering with refugees seeking work. Working on my memoirs and promoting the work of my friend, Irish writer Colm Clifford O… who tragically died of Aids just as his career was taking off. (BTW: there’s a dressed, staged reading in London 6/7/8February)
A few things have stayed constant in my ‘education’: Damage lasts!
A burning desire that people are not written off.
And the knowledge: there’s more to all of us than first meets the eye.
And, yes, my love of clothes, make-up and painted nails…
All the very best, Penny. Mary xx
Another fascinating post, Penny! You write so very well, and as much as I think I know about English society, you always show me more. I was interested to compare the percentage of private school students here vs. the UK, and I was surprised – 6% sounded like a lot, but in the US it’s 8.5%! I went to private school my first 3 years, then public school after that. I think my parents would have preferred me “not to mix with ____”, but they couldn’t afford it, and while the contacts would have been valuable, I would’ve turned into a much worse snob that I already did…I adore the 2 photos of you and your husband!
Yes, we always get the impression that America has a much more egalitarian society than the UK but I guess in every country there is always an elite. It is really weird that our top most select and elitist schools for boys are called ‘public’ schools but that is because their origins have come from the church and or charities. Hence the fact that hundreds of years later they are still registered as charities and are not taxed – that is so astonishing, but it is relic from the past. I do hope Labour brings this to an end.
And that photo of us sitting together is a good one – love the twinkle in Mr F’s eyes! It was taken at a family gathering. Thanks Mary K 😊
I too went to private schools but sent my kids to public schools and am very pro public education (and a huge fan of Pasi Sahlberg so have read a lot about it, not just emotive opinion). Interestingly, there are a lot of attitudes based on air, when it comes to schools. I too took a long time to get over some of the odd opinions I grew up with (to be fair both at home and at school). I sometimes think if I met myself now as I was then, I’d have nothing in common with me.
In Australia, we have a very low standard of education and our reliance on privates schools is largely to blame. But no one really wants to fix it.
Great post and an insight both into you and schooling.
Yes, in the UK when a State school is good it can be the best kind of education that a child can get, but a lot of State schools are suffering from lack of good funding – so much has been cut from their budgets by the last government. And now I think there are a lot of teachers, and head teachers, who are suffering from low morale and sheer exhaustion because they have to do so much with so little. The unfairness of private schools having so many wonderful resources is part of my total dislike of private education.
I too sent my kids to State schools – not sure that was the best education they could have had (for a lot of reasons) but I must say that my grandson’s State school education has been brilliant. All his friends have gone to Oxford – he’s having a gap year.
Thanks Lydia it’s been great to hear about your thoughts on schooling 😊
What an interesting post. I didn’t know you were educated at private schools. I often ponder on how girls at single sex schools learn how to relate to boys, particularly if they don’t have brothers. Not to mention working class people. It must have been a shock for your parents to find out you and your sister were behind academically. Kudos to you for getting an degree and MA after 40. I think independent schools have their place, but I loathe institutions like Eton which turns out privileged monsters, like one of our recent prime ministers.
Oh thank goodness you didn’t know I was educated at a private school 🤣 the veneer has worn off!!!
But despite my ‘good’ education I was so naive about life, the universe and everything – it took me years and your theme on confidence is an interesting one, as I think the education I had robbed me of my confidence and I had to build it up myself. Which I did. Yes, I agree, independent schools have their place and there will be very good ones amongst them too.
It is the privilege of the uppermost elite schools that endow their pupils with so much confidence about their position in life that I too loathe. Indeed our last prime minster bar two (or is it three!) is an extreme example of what can come out of these schools – but there are many emotionally damaged men too – and this is well documented by survivors of these very particular environment within these schools. It’s all fascinating if it wasn’t so damaging!
Thanks so much for your comment Gail 😊
P.S. Your comment has come twice – was there a problem? Let me know if there was.
What an interesting post. I didn’t know you were educated at private schools. I often ponder on how girls at single sex schools learn how to relate to boys, particularly if they don’t have brothers. Not to mention working class people. It must have been a shock for your parents to find out you and your sister were behind academically. Kudos to you for getting an degree and MA after 40. I think independent schools have their place, but I loathe institutions like Eton which turns out privileged monsters, like one of our recent prime ministers.
An excellent article & excellent comments too . I’m just a year younger than you but state educated . As a child , the fiction of the time made private schools seem such jolly fun , all apple pie beds ??? & midnight feasts but as you explain the reality was often very different. What strikes me is the absolute waste of potential talent by having such an elitist system . Eleven year olds failing the eleven plus & being cast aside . My husband was an eleven year old failure , caused mainly by dreadful eyesight never having been diagnosed . It was only when a visionary headmaster at his terrible secondary modern school was determined to get a bunch of bright pupils through their GCEs before his retirement , that things altered . No GCEs were undertaken at that school previously . Mr Hodgson understood the unfairness of the system & did the little he could for those with potential . My husband knuckled down & on retirement was high up in the accounting system of a multinational company . It’s no wonder he has seethed over the last 14 years , watching the public schoolboys wreck the country .
On a lighter note , the school dinners article brought back so many memories . Tough meat which I , as a little vegetarian was instructed to eat ( I always took a handkerchief to hide it in for the family dog ) – slices of white bread with gravy when potatoes were expensive ( yuk) – but those heavenly puddings . I loved them all .
I know, I read all the books which showed that kind of life and indeed I did participate in a couple of midnight feasts! But on the whole it was the narrowness of life experience that I think was so lacking in my life, although, actually I put that down, slightly, to my parents as they accepted everything about being correct, proper and, you know, conservative with a small c and large.
As for the 11 Plus and the waste of children being put into poor or certainly different schooling to the Grammar schools – that was so bad. However, my husband failed his 11 plus and was fortunate enough to go to a Secondary Modern run by an ex-army type who ran it like a public school! My husband also remembers with fondness the technical side of the boys education which obviously he followed. However, feminism hadn’t touched education then as the girls didn’t do the technical stuff they did domestic science!
But, yes, oh my goodness, how the public schoolboys in the last government wrecked our infrastructure and even our cultural life. I seethe too! Yes, I hadn’t forgotten the tough meat, and the smell of the boiled fish (!) too, that was awful, although, that last school did have great food with heavenly puddings!
Thanks so much Wendy 😊
Hello, Penny
A very interesting post.
I so understand the frustrations of others over the unfair education system. I won a scholarship to a (then) high school run by nuns, while my Bestie (still, after 80 years), didn’t. All because I got higher marks on the day. However, while she enjoyed a pleasant enough time at a secondary modern school I received a good (better?) education yes, but watched my mother struggle year after year to afford the expensive uniforms (summer, winter, sports, plus other stuff) whose styles were completely changed every now and then (why?) and which had to be bought from the only stockist in town (expensive).
The result? My Bestie went on to become a highly qualified nursery nurse and I had to leave school at 15, taking no exams, because the financial burden just got too much for my parents. I became a GPO telephonist, which I loved, but had to go to night school to get my qualifications and move onwards and upwards. But while I was merely linking people by telephone, Bestie was doing vital work – at a hospital! One abiding thing I did learn at the convent though, was, if you’ve ever been taught by nuns, you’re never afraid of anyone else!
Happy days!
Oh those uniforms, Zepherine! I think my list for the boarding school included the fact you were expected to wear two pairs of knickers – one white and one black! But then there was sports gear (and don’t forget the hockey stick) and the shoes you were expected to wear. It was indoor shoes left at school in your locker and outdoor shoes that you took off on arrival – that’s what I meant about the smell of those cloakrooms as the shoes weren’t locked away but were stacked in open cubby holes. And your white gym shoes had to be absolutely pristine – if there were any marks on them you were given a detention. Oh yes, and hockey boots. And ballet shoes! Leather satchels, pencils, rubbers, geometry sets, pens, and this time you brought your own ink. I think my parents found it very expensive too.
Fascinating to hear your account Zepherine, and you got qualifications after school as did I. But we survived it didn’t we!! Thanks so much 😊
That was really an interesting read! I read it from start to finish. I grew up going to public school in France and went to private high school (as a charity case) in France then 2 years in a private French American school in Mexico City (that was the only way my family agreed to move there my last 2 years of high school). I did enjoy my school days but I will say your description of those classrooms at the beginning of your school days sound like mine a little: we lived in a small village of 700 and several grades were in one room. They were very small classes though because there were not many children. I do remember being sent in the hallway for talking too much and the teacher forgetting me!
http://www.chezmireillefashiontravelmom.com
You have had such an interesting life with your experience of living in these different countries. It’s quite fascinating to read about it. And you too went to a very small school at the beginning of your education.
Thanks so much Mireille 😊
I really love your insight into the British private schooling system. I can’t relate to it perfectly as I’m from the US, but I did go to private school here. I grew up near Washington DC so a lot of my classmates were on the fast track to political careers. We didn’t really experience the same level of abuse as it wasn’t a boarding school, but I think I still saw some of those same flaws here. I mean, my parents fully intended for me to either become a senator or marry one, and I, much like you, ended up marrying a working class guy who eventually started his own dumpster rental company haha I received a high-quality education I know many others could not due to financial struggles my family did not have, but I always felt like something was off in the social climbing aspect of the private schooling system here. Can’t wait to read more of your content.
Hi Allyson, thank you so much for reading this and commenting too. It’s been so interesting to read everyone’s thoughts on their education and especially those, like you, who also went to a private fee-paying school. For my parents, like yours, it was always about the type of girls that went to these schools that mattered most plus of course that the education we got was good. I know there was nothing malicious about this in their thinking. They just wanted the best for us. But it isn’t such a good thing to push a child one way – they might just go another way! As we both did!
I must say that they came to really appreciate my husband although much of this came about because he was very ‘handy’ and was able to mend things for them! When he put in several cupboards in their utility room they were simply amazed and delighted of course. He continues to be like this and has just put up some shelves for me in my office area – bless him. I made such good choice – as you did!
Btw, my next blog will revert back to clothes! But we write in this way once a month. You can read some of the past Tell Us About Challenges if you click Memories (to be found in the Menu). From time to time I also write about ageing which I did a couple of weeks ago.
Thanks again 😊
Your post is so enlightening and intriguing, Penny. It is so interesting to read about how different schools are across the world. I just have no words…I can’t imagine your parents paying so much money for a subpar education. Private (or public in the UK) schools here are outrageously expensive but usually do boast of very high quality educations. I have always been shocked at the idea of sending small children away to boarding schools. Those formative years should be used to nurture a child rather than indoctrinate them. I think it speaks to your inherent character that you rebelled against the education you received. I love that you found a young man who would not be appealing to your parents. And, yet, look at how well the combination worked. Your Mr. F was and is a very handsome man with a beautiful wife. I will come back to read more of those links you posted as I’m very interested in this.
Thanks for sharing this somewhat painful time of your life with us.
https://marshainthemiddle.com/
Well, my parent’s point of view was that the alternative was worse and maybe it was as this was not long after the war and we, as a country, were picking up the pieces. The state system then was nothing like it is now because when it works well it is the best education a child can have.
But yes, for a certain class (the upper-middle class and of course the aristocracy) the practice of sending children away to boarding school at a very young age is considered not only the right thing to do but the very best thing you can do for your child, and is just normal practice. It seems to be boys more than girls that are sent away at a very early age with the result that you have the type of British man with the ‘stiff upper lip’. In effect these are men who have stifled their tears for their mothers at a very early age and have conformed and learnt not to show emotions. It is so unhealthy.
I believe now there is a slight softening of that attitude with some men saying they wouldn’t put their children through what they went through, and instead send their children to these schools as day pupils, but is still a very common practice.
That is why I married Mr F – he was so different! And look – it lasted!!!
WOW it’s like reading a post about another world! It was shocking, wasn’t it? But by the sounds of it, it still is!
I love the two photos of you and your husband. In the recent photo, he reminds me a bit of Michael Palin!
Great post and great prompt, Penny!
Hugs
Suzy xx
It was another world as my parents had the 1930s firmly in their heads until they passed in the 1980s! also if you look at the link of my school that was in the village we lived in, I don’t think it changed much from the time it was set up in the 1920s!!!
Aww thank you re: the photos! And big hugs to you too 😊
Wow.. what a life lived. Sorry to hear about your schooldays but happy to hear your rebellion and marrying a ‘working class’ man worked out so well for you. You make a very handsome couple.
Actually my schooldays weren’t all bad, it was just that it didn’t mostly suit me. I think most of us learn more from the life we live rather than what we learn at school. And thank you so much for your kind words about our photo 🙂
This was a great read Penny and a fun prompt. I always get confused as to why it’s called public education when in fact it’s not free, it’s actually got high fees. Or I am I confused about all that public and private education?
I love the before and after photos of you and Jon, you’re still a cool couple!
It is confusing because these schools are the opposite of ‘public’ (as well as exceptionally high fees, there are strict entrance exams so they only want the best brains) but when we Brits talk about public schools we know exactly what we are talking about, and it the exclusive boys schools that cater for the elite, that literally centuries ago were created by the church and/or charities. What’s more they are still registered as charities hence they don’t pay tax which is crackers! And they continue to call themselves public when they are blatantly not!
There’s a certain type of Brit that puts their children down for these schools as soon as they are born. This type of schooling perpetuates a certain outlook on life and buckets of confidence. The worst example of that, as there are some good types (!) that come out of this system, is Boris Johnson!
Thanks Debbie 😊
What fascinating comments. I was state educated but a lot of your experiences Penny chimed with me. My mother was from the local middle class and my father was unusually a working class Scot with a university degree, They were determined we didn’t mix with “common “ children and banned all such contact from a very young age. Nothing short of passing the 11 plus and going to university was ever considered as acceptable for us. They were lucky we were able to do so. My parent’s cleaner’s daughter also passed and I remember a conversation my mother had with the cleaner actively discouraging her from accepting the place! Even at 11 I couldn’t believe my ears.
I do believe grammar schools or any form of selection in state education is wrong though. None of my three children would have been likely to pass and so risked being considered “second class” children with limited horizons but they have all grown up to have successful careers.
Some school dinners I remember with fondness – the sponge puddings and home baked rolls when potatoes were expensive springs to mind.
Re grammar school uniforms – to save money though nowadays we would call it sustainability we used to have our jumpers re sleeved rather than buy new. The knickers were a mystery even then especially the pocket in them.
Such interesting comments from everyone.
I was born in 1948,my parents both working class and had to leave school at 14 -my dad worked on the fish dock and my mum in a shop until she had me.So I went to lovely infants and primary schools then passed the 11+exam and went to the local grammar school. (I must have been ill on the day of the exam because I had to take the exam with a few other children in a classroom at the grammar school-no pressure there then!)
It was a mixed grammar school though not many boys as a lot of parents wanted their sons to go to the nearby boys grammar school; there was not a nearby girls grammar school. The children who didn’t pass the exam went to the local secondary modern school which was a good one,and could resit the 11+after the first year and move to the grammar school although I think they had to start in the first year rather than go straight to second year. If they got good GCE O levels they could then move over to our 6th form to do A levels.
I loved my time at grammar school apart from the sports which I hated -I always volunteered to do teas for visitors on sports days and joined the choir(despite not being able to sing or read music!) because in the run up to Christmas we had choir practice during games sessions.
My greatest thrill was learning Latin -I loved it and did it for A level together with French and History.I was allowed to drop chemistry and physics early on though I do regret that now as I’m married to a research scientist. He also had working class parents and was the first child from his council estate to pass the 11+and go to grammar school(a Catholic boys school with Christian Brothers…)
Not much in the way of careers advice in those days – my A levels were not good enough for me to do French at university and nobody told me I could apply to do new subjects like Old Norse.I didn’t want to be a nurse or a teacher or a secretary so I went to Library School but hadn’t worked in a library so found the course difficult.I then did the Civil Service exam and was assigned to the Inland Revenue which I loved and after a few years moved to work in London accountants offices -I think my northern accent helped!
Oh, Penny, my apologies. I remember reading your blog post and then must have been interrupted before I left a comment. Tonight, I was trying hard to catch up on blog reading and when I clicked on your blog, I realized I hadn’t left a comment here. I am so sorry as I so enjoy your take on everything, every prompt, on everything you share!! And this post was no exception.
Was the first school you mentioned, the one you linked to, a boarding school? You said there were boarders but you lived very close to the school. Did you sleep at home? How strange it must feel to see the photos of St. Mary’s and know you were right there as a child.
The second school sounds dreadful and so regimented. But with very strange policies. A weekly bath? Heavens!! I never have washed my hair more than twice a week. However, I would hate to go to twice a month!! Changing and showering in front of others was always hard for me, too. In physical education, I tried to wait until everyone had changed and had gone into the gym before I dressed in my gym suit. And then I was late to class. Even in college, I would try to bathe in the communal shower at odd times so as not to run into anyone I knew!!
My parents offered to send me to an all-girls private school and I quickly declined their offer. I was always shy around everyone but especially boys and I think that would have made my shyness and discomfort even worse. Your working-class husband was a grand catch!! I hope your parents realized that sooner rather than later. Congratulations on your years of marriage and life together.
Hello Leslie and honestly I also can’t keep up with commenting on everyone’s blog. I would need a whole day to read other blogs and reply to them and I think it is just as important to have a life outside blogging!!!!
My first school was the one in a small house with only one toilet – unbelievable really! The second one was the very old-fashioned private school in lovely grounds where I was a day-girl as it was only 5 minutes away from my home. I was happy there.
And then the 3rd school where I boarded for 1 year, that was the one where you only had a bath once a week and only allowed to wash your hair every two weeks. This was a hated rule and we tried to break it but you got a detention if they found you with wet hair! What you learnt to do was the discrete, under your nightie, strip wash which you did every day – all of it done in a large communal washroom with basins only. I distinctly remember being totally flummoxed and perplexed by this undressing and washing in front of other girls. But you got used to it quite quickly. This school btw is now quite a prestigious one and comes up quite high on the list of best girls schools in the country, and I’m sure things around hygiene are different now – haven’t checked but I can’t believe it would be like that now.
Honestly the class bound schooling system we still have is so unequal and actually doesn’t do our nation any good whatsoever. It is the huge resources they have that are way over and above the resources of State schools that is so galling, but when our State schools work well it is the best education a child can get.
Thanks so much for your lovely comment, Leslie 😊