First some background : I was at my second primary school as we had moved following my father’s promotion. It left me, as soon as I opened my mouth, as an out of place northern lad in a southern school. Further, I was in the bottom ‘C’ grade though one teacher did tell me that he had suggested to the headmaster to move me up to ‘B’ grade, however, the headmaster and I had a very un-special relationship.
Studying for the 11+ : One morning the class was told that we had to go to the Hall. This left me wondering as it was not time for Assembly or PE. It turned out to be to sit the 11+.
The exam left me confused with questions involving, if I recall correctly, references to mice, mouse and elephants. Presumably, the ‘intelligence’ part of the exam. Not surprising, I failed with the news of my failure coming via a letter to my parents.
The secondary school was much tougher on discipline. With the cane in regular use and the school ‘crawling’ with prefects ready to inform on any misdemeanours. School was firm but fair with no problems with bullying.
A further promotion for my father resulted in another change of school. The new school seemed to major on indiscipline and indifference. No corporal punishment but rampant bullying. Their expectations seemed to match my own that of no great expectations.
Against my wishes, my father made me stay on to take CSE’s. By now I kept a very low profile at school trying to keep out of sight and out of mind of both teachers and bullies.
After the exams, I was called to the Deputy Head’s office, a man I had only ever seen at assemblies. A call to the head’s office was something which given my past history, left me somewhat concerned. He informed me I had achieved 4 CSE Grade 1, a first for a boy at the school which I would say, says rather more about the school than me. He rambled on about being misjudged and the school letting me down or some such. I didn’t take a great deal of notice at the time. I was not in trouble again and more importantly, I was leaving school. Hallelujah!
Did my primary school headmaster misjudge me in part because of my strong northern accent and set my course? Who or what decided that I was ‘C’ grade material and therefore 11+ notification was not required, let alone any prep? Presumably, we were all expected to fail and no doubt met those expectations.
What you did not realise at the time was that a secondary school education led to a job(s). Whereas, for a career you needed to go to a grammar school and then to university. What we did think was that the grammar school was where the ‘posh’ boys went.
Richard.
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I was lucky to be in the catchment area of Stoke on Trent when the 11+ was abolished and all schools in the city took all abilities of kids.
ReplyDeleteMy very talented husband was not so lucky. A family breakdown around the time of his 11+ saw him fail. Something he has never got over as a marker that he was ‘thick’.
A year into secmod, the head contacted his father as he was overachieving in every class. Father given the choice to move him but said no. Firstly the cost of new uniform and increased travel cost. Secondly as it might encourage him to want to go to uni which the family could not afford. So lack of income kept him down.
Through sustained hard work, he did an HND in night school and went on to achieve an MSc in Advanced Manufacturing. Just the kind of qual our current leaders would see as worth having. But he had to fight every step of the way.
I also saw my sister suffer at grammar school (she’s older and did the 11+). She was bullied mercilessly by richer, entitled girls. We came from modest resources.
The whole two tier system was a betrayal of our young people.
My experience of a mixed school was that everyone had chances to study both academic and practical subjects to find their own strengths. You can’t do that if you’re pre-segregated.
This notion of disrupting the
ReplyDeletethe utter bilge that passes for authoritative comment on selective education is liberating. I was, like “ under the cranes”, taught to read by my mother before I went to school and I can see from my early school reports how my “ reading age” premium animated my love of reading and story making and provided joy in school work. But I did not “ pass” my 11+ and can recall how painful it was and shaming so much so that those of us who had been expected to pass and “ failed” were taken aside and given a “ busy” job to distract us on results day. I managed to go “ up” the class system by sheer good fortune of the opening of my local technical college where,with my parents support, (ie forgoing my earning capacity for the years I had to spend in getting my O levels- so then I went onto my A levels in Manchester- my dad sought out a local Rochdale charity for apprentice “boys” to help book buying and they gave him some cash - substantial at the time and I recall how important this was in material support of my fortuitous path to higher education gave me insights into the ruthless ways of social reproduction - my dad after all knew this too - as one of 12 children he could not advance his own education- he had to work - I am forever mindful of his generosity and forever furious at the banal discussion on education that the Etonmediocrats promulgate
Michael Rosen gave me a link from Twitter and suggested I put something about my school days. I came from a non-academic family, but my parents, especially my father were upwardly mobile. My father went from being a rent collector to work in local government management. He had left school at 14 but when tested came out with a high IQ.
ReplyDeleteWhen I went to infant school they had asked parents not to try to teach us to read before staring as it would confuse us. But I got there and found some kids from more affluent backgrounds had not taken the advice. These were scooped up for the top table - greens, then yellows were picked out. That left the bottom two tables blue and red. One morning they set out some work on one table and some jigsaws on the other and I delightedly chose the jigsaws, which got me placed on the bottom table.
But once we did learn to read it became clear I was learning quickly and I was later promoted to the group for good readers. I had a reputation for being 'daft' and I could be silly sometimes, just had a crazy surreal sense of humour, and so I looked forward to junior school, where we would have positions in class. I came 10th out of just under 40 so not bad. On my first day at Junior school I was asked to run an errand to one of the older classes. I saw on the board hundreds, tens and units sums with no HTU written over the top and I was terrified and prayed that my time at school would go really quickly. Over the next few years I improved by place in class and in my last year I was up to 5th place and tipped for grammar school. Then I got hit by a car and spent three months in hospital. I did my 11+ late and was borderline so they had to look at my school books, which were largely empty and my writing was terrible. So I was slated for secondary modern.
It was a tough school; the police had been involved a few years before due to a dangerous initiation ceremony. Though the hanging ritual used when I was there was quite tame. I was being verbally bullied by some older boys but they left soon after I arrived at the start of their third year. On my first day we had to find the Physics room and someone said, 'Is it Dicky?' We did not know what they meant but this was a reference to Dicky Dumble the science teacher.
Dicky was a remarkable eccentric. His pet punishment was the nerf, a hit with the fleshy bottom of the fist on the head. It didn't hurt and was always announced, anyone who . . . will be nerfed. Dick's training was in physics and only to a certificate level, but he taught general science in the lower years. He was responsible for teaching us reproduction and having done frogs moved onto people ending the final lesson by using the words we would use, 'dick, balls, cunt' and so on and then telling us these were slang words he did not want to hear.
When it came to explaining the theory of evolution he just got it wrong. He drew an animal, rather like a monkey, climbing into a tree to escape predators. Since the animal could not feed it got thin, and when it got thin its skin began to droop and eventually this became so droopy it could swoop from branch to branch and evolved wings, turning into a bird.
When explaining the origins of the earth he began with the seven day creation and Adam and Eve and told us it was rubbish. Then covered Hoyle's theory of condensing gases and the idea of a larger passing sun pulling the earth off the sun. The last two are clearly theories about different things and I don't think the big bang got a look in. At any rate his comments on Genesis made people think he was an atheist, though years later when explaining atoms he said it must have all been designed by someone. His own ideas were strung through his teaching.
It has told me this is too long so experimentally shortening.
This was part two of my too long comment
ReplyDeleteWhen we got to O level and CSE we were the first class where the whole school stayed on to 16. This must have been difficult for Dicky. And actually I had always thought I would stay on and looked forward to being in one of the small rooms the 4th and 5th years had when I started, where there was a record player. In the end Dicky did not seem to be teaching us much, but a bunch of us found the CSE text books, which were much easier to understand than the O level one, in a cupboard and asked if we could borrow them. The teacher, not Dicky, agreed, and I took that home and basically memorised it with the result that I got a 1 as did some others who had borrowed those books.
My teachers liked me. I was in a Maths club for a while and I could always write an interesting story. What I found difficult was any actual studying. I just did not know how to do it. We were rarely set homework but we were for French. I used to do it late on the evening before it was due in and get told off the next day. And I don't know why.
My father found out that our class were not going to be allowed to do O level Maths. There was no pupil related reason for this. We were class 2 but we were banded not streamed and class 1 who were equivalent to use were doing it. My father complained, and a few of us were allowed to do it if we came in for extra lessons. I got a B so it was worth it. However, my dad who had insisted on me doing mostly sciences wanted me to do Maths and English at A level. I really struggled with A. level Maths and had to drop it. It turns out the school had deliberately chosen an exam board that did not include calculus, which left me behind.
There are many other tales of my school life I would like to tell. The time my Maths teacher caught me reading a Dennis Wheatley book under the desk when I'd finished the work and I thought I was in trouble, and instead he went through the list of books inside the cover and told me which he thought were the good ones. The time an English teacher said he could tell us the meaning of any word we would have come across and I took it as a challenge and asked him the meaning of the word 'autohagiography' which I had found in The Confessions of Alistair Crowley. I could work out from the context it meant the autobiography of a saint, but was sure he would not have come across the word, which I believe was a neologism. I would also love to mention Flecky Fletcher the deputy head who had a an approach to punishment that was as bizarre and entertaining as Dicky's. But this is a long entry. I have enjoyed writing it and maybe will return sometime.
I went to Bexleyheath Secondary Modern School for Boys in 1959, and left as soon as my parents let me, having worked the summer holidays in the merchant navy when I was 14 and 15. The headmaster, Mr, Lester, was keen to keep boys into the 6th year and get O-levels, and I managed four, and got a job as an office boy, though I didn't stay there long. After a long succession of office jobs and then factory work, with British manufacturing industry going into decline under Thatcher I finally made it to University as a mature student and got a B Ed, the last university intake to not need maths. Looking back I do think my education was a series of accidents, and I still don't know what to do when I grow up.
ReplyDeleteOverall the education I had at the local Secondary School was good. The numbers were high in 1958, more than double the previous year but most teachers were very good and we were encouraged to do our best. GCEs and commercial courses were offered and we were encouraged to stay on and do them. Some left to do apprenticeships. I believe I went to a better school than my sons did and they needed extra private tuition along the way. They have done well despite going to schools where there was much disruption, bullying and poor teaching.
ReplyDeleteEncouraged by Michael Rosen to contribute to this bit of social history.
ReplyDeleteMy Father was in the RAF. I attended Primary Schools in Kenya, Yorkshire and Malaysia. I failed, or rather did not pass, my 11 plus at an British Army School in Malaysia. I was the only one in my class not to pass.
I went to an Army Boarding School in Singapore and was in the Secondary Modern Stream. Metalwork rather than Latin.
On return to UK I attended three Secondary Modern Schools. I ended up with 5 grade 1 and 3 Grade 2 GCSEs and an O level in Art. I went to the local Tech College to study an OND in Engineering, which I passed.I found a job in a drawing office at a local Engineering Company who sent me to Tech to do an HNC in Engineering. I struggled with the maths. Whilst doing my OND I also attended night classes to attain an O Level in Maths.
After gaining my HNC I changed jobs a few times for better pay. I had married and had our first child. I was then made redundant for the first time. I joined the Civil Service as an Professional and Technology Officer, a draughtsman in an aircraft modification design office. I progressed within that organisation. They also sent me to Tech on day release to undertake a second HNC in Aeronautical Engineering. I passed with distinction and was awarded a prize for being the best student. It was not hard as a mature student sat along side late teen, early 20s students. By then I was also a School Governor at my children’s school. I ended up in charge of the aircraft modification design office. The Unit I worked for was relocated. I did not want to relocate north so opted to move to a Top Secret RAF base in Oxfordshire to be the Head of Design. Living away from my family was difficult, so I found another job in my home town. Three years later I was made redundant. I went cap in hand back to the Civil Service and was reinstated. I took an Engineering management job. I was encouraged to apply to become a Chartered Engineer through the then open mature route for those without University Degrees. I was successful. The paper I wrote was well received by my chosen Professional Institute. I remain engaged in the affairs of the local branch of said institute. I became a Defence Cut, I like to think it was my contribution to the Peace Dividend. It wasn’t really; just this crass Government war against the Civil Service. I left with a Bronze handshake and was able to take low paid and now part time work easing myself into retirement.
In summary: I don’t think I have done too bad in the round. Nice house in a nice area, lovely family, all doing well and contributing to society. None of my four children have degrees but my youngest is working towards hers in nursing.
Would it have been any different had I met the cut, gone to the Grammar Stream and gone on to University? You know what, I don’t know and don’t really care. It’s been difficult at times, facing redundancy, but that would have been no different ether way.
I went to a Primary School which shared a campus with a Secondary Modern in Barking.I think it was assumed that most of us would simply go on to that school. In fact we were a pretty bright lot and of the 42 in my class at least 22 passed the 11+. After the 11+ we had school exams in which I was placed 9th. You can imagine my disappointment at failing the 11+. I don’t recall my working class parents expressing any particular emotion. So, it was the Sec Mod for me in 1960. From the outset I loved it! I was a big fish in a little pond and encouraged in all subjects -although science was limited to biology. The school was divided in half by a large main hall, with Boys on one side and Girls in the other - the only place they met was on the shared playing field or backstage in the hall! By the time I was 15 the school was CoEd so ‘O’ levels were taught in stimulating mixed groups. Despite enjoying school I decided to attempt the 13+, against the wishes of the Headteacher. Eight of us went for it & one girl succeeded. The head had already told us she didn’t want to lose us so it wasn’t as devastating as failing the 11+. From then on I think I was determined to succeed & my English teacher suggested becoming a teacher through teacher training college. However, I wanted to be a reporter and despite discouragement from ‘careers teacher’ I pursued that dream by going to the South East Essex College of Technology after ‘O’ levels, to do a secretarial course. There were so many opportunities at that Sec Mod but no Sixth Form. Later, as an Academy combined with the local Grammar school, it was the school that Billy Bragg & Ravi Bopara attended as well as my brother - a journalist on a number of National newspapers! I did become a local newspaper reporter but eventually went to Teacher Training College & became a teacher. Being somewhat dilettante I took another newspaper reporting job but eventually settled into teaching for a lengthy career. I’ve always resented that divisive 11+ as have friends of mine - and from experience at Teacher Training college it was obvious that where you lived in the UK had a big impact on whether or not there were Grammar school places. I’m an advocate of Comprehensive schools where there are opportunities for all youngsters.
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