[guide.chat] In Reply To: part 4 junior school
- From: "James Liddell" <james.liddell2@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: "M BOWKER" <bowker288@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx>, "Guide Chat" <guide.chat@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Fri, 10 Aug 2012 18:25:04 +0100
Malcolm;
Compared to you, I got off lightly!
It seems that, in those days, some - but not all - teachers were sadists, or
ignorant of what 'disability' meant. I spoke of my infant teacher - the one who
used the belt on five-year old me - well, that same person was particularly
vile toward a girl in my class, who, because she had had polio, wore callipers
on her legs, greatly limiting her mobility. She was always the one told to pick
anything that had fallen to the floor - even if the teacher herself had dropped
it. When she inevitably fell, trying to pick the object up, the teacher would
say "Typical. Where's the asylum when you want it?" She would then throw the
blackboard duster, which, as you know, was a wooden block with a sponge
attached, at the girl, saying, "Catch!"
Of course, the girl couldn't catch it - if she tried, she would have
over-balanced again; so the duster hit her, usually on the chest, but sometimes
on her head.
I'm extremely grateful that she was the only example of her kind, as, had
other teachers who taught me been of her ilk, I doubt I'd have been interested
in making the effort to learn.
-----Original Message-----
From: M BOWKER - Email Address: bowker288@xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Sent On: 10/08/2012 16:37
Sent To: Guide Chat - Email Address: guide.chat@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [guide.chat] part 4 junior school
I now move up to junior school. about seven years old . I was very thin for my
age and I wore those N, H. S. glasses. milk bottle top lenses, made out of what
seamed like wire. They were always bent and twisted. And I still couldn't talk
enough for people to understand me, in cluding the teacher. She was old and
had grey hair in a round bun. And she looked mean, On my first day I was as
usual put at the back of the class. I was seven years old and wearing short
pants. I put my hand inside my pants to scratch an itch. The teacher came
charging up to me and said I was a naughty boy. and made me hold out my hands,
knuckles upwards. then told me to make a fist. Then she hit me on the knuckles
with a wooden rulelar. She drue blood. No plaster, just put your handkerchief
on it. Good start, I didn't even know what I had done wrong.
I went through the classes and was always put at the back of the class. In
those days we had a big field and a football pitch. I hated sports and do to
this day. Every time we went on the field for football the teacher always put
me in goals. The reason, because he new I couldn't see the ball and he always
told the other kids to kick it hard at me . I quite often got the ball in the
face which broke my glasses at times. The teacher and all the kids had a good
laugh when it hit me. And it was the same with cricket. The time's I had a
corkie ball in my face. And the same with other sports.
In the last class I was again put at the back of the class room. The teacher's
in each class all did the same. They would be having spelling test. Did they
pick the ones that could spell. No, they always picked me. I still couldn't
speak enough for them to understand me. So, Bowker. spell conclusion. I would
not be able to. Not because I couldn't, but because they couldn't understand my
speech. So the teacher called me all the names he could and the class just
laughed at me. And the most humiliating was when they made me stand in front of
the class and tried to make me read from a book. I also use to get sent to the
head master for not trying to learn and get the strap on both hands and both
sides. Hard rough days. You couldn't tell your parents because you would get
told of again.
Next part. 5. Eleven plus.
love Malcolm. xxx
know
love Malcolm. xxxx.
Cheshire,
skype name,
malcolmbo1
You Said.
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