School

Aug. 25th, 2004 09:18 am
sobrique: (Default)
[personal profile] sobrique
My time at primary school (the image is a little large) (A joint 'infant and junior' school) was an unusual experience. It was a small school. I think in total there were maybe 100 children, from ages 6 to 11. (Or maybe even less, I'm a little vague. It might be as few as 40 or so).

But you see, what made _my_ time at school unusual, is that my mum was one of the teachers. This is both a blessing and a curse. You see, having mum giving you lifts to school, being 'to hand' if needed, and being able to hang around and play in the evenings whilst she was at staff meetings was really rather good.

The problem is, I NEVER got away with anything. Teachers talk to each other you see. And don't make the mistake of thinking that they don't notice. They may not say anything because they don't want to deal with some of the more trivial incidences of petty spite and mayhem that small children indulge in. But they do notice. And in the staff room, they might subtly comment on it.

This becomes interesting when all the teachers are 'keeping an eye' on you. It sort of becomes a joint pressure to be a 'model child', and with Mum finding out about the really naughty stuff we did at school.

And so I was fairly good. Because I never got away with it.

And then I went to secondary school. It was a completely different enviroment.
My year was 180 people. And there were around a thousand pupils, a split site, and lots and lots of classrooms. And Mum wasn't watching over my shoulder. Oh, she was still 'in the area' and so still heard about some of the more interesting exploits. But that's just not the same...

It really was a very different experience. Early on I was singled out as a 'goody goody'. I think that was mostly because ... well you spend your first 6 years of school as 'being good', old habits die hard. So I didn't get drawn into the usual sort of my gang/your gang bitchin' and rumbling around the playground.

I settled down to a routine of 'being good' and keeping up with homework etc. it turned out to be pretty easy, and so by virtue of being almost isolated from 'the crowd' I just got on with learning. Lot's of good grades, prompt attendance to lessons, and homework finished on time.

In the slightly longer run, this paid off very well. I got through 5 years of school without a detention. Ever. It's one of those petty little achievements I'm moderately proud of.

And I got away with the Doughnut Incident.




You see, it was one lunchtime, in one of the corridors. We were having a bit of a lark. This time, however, was special. You see, we had a doughnut.

And ring doughnuts are quite clearly similar to aerobies. They fly very well if you get the spin right.

This rather quickly degenerated into a sugary game of 'catch' down the corridor. All was going well, until around the corner came the headmaster. Mr. Savins. Tragically, but inevitably, the doughnut, still in mid flight at the time, unerringly sought out his lovingly tended suit.

*splatch*. The doughnut, somewhat the worse for wear having been thrown back and forth down a corridor, had disintegrated and splattered all over the headmaster.

I swear, I have never run so fast.

Whilst the 'doughnut throwing' was harmless fun (well, relatively harmless. I mean, it was messy, but it wasn't intended to hit anyone), we knew that it would be extremely difficult to explain the difference between throwing a doughnut back and forth, accidentally hitting the headmaster, and throwing it at the headmaster.

Thankfully, his first reaction was 'whafuck, I've just been hit by a doughnut' and look down. By the time his stony gaze returned to the corridor, we'd legged it.

To this day, I still don't know if he ever worked out who it was. I have my suspicions though. There's always people who saw and are prepared to snitch in a school that size.




On another occasion, someone had really annoyed me and my best friend at the time. It was one of those annoyances that seem to extremely important, that I can't remember what it was about.

I do remember though, that our cunning plan, was to print out business cards. Offering his services as a rent boy. And then we wandered around the library, distributing them, one by one, into books. Especially the books of which there were many copies, such as Jane Eyre, because that was an English Core Text (tm).

It was hysterically funny at the time. And I had always thought I'd gotten away with it scot free. My enemy humiliated, my vengance served cold.
Lovely.

Except, that some years later, (probably 3-4, I forget precisely, it was certainly after my GCSEs where the aforementioned incident was before) I was reminded of the incident, by my English teacher at the time, Mrs. Harrison. (Who incidentally was a great teacher. Truely passionate and enthusiastic about what she taught, and despite all the walrus jokes, we thought she was great).

Just casually, as I was leaving the English lesson, she made a relatively innocuous comment about leaving some business cards in library books. The flashing revelation struck me. She knew. All along, she had known.

Sometimes, I wonder how many of the other teachers heard about it. I certainly never realised until that moment that anyone other than the 3 people involved were even aware of it.

Watch out for Teachers. They've seen it all before...
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