Last School Photograph - Sepia Saturday

I began this month’s Sepia Saturday prompt with my first school photograph and will end here with my final photograph.

 

 I moved on from Infants to Juniors, where the boys and girls were in separate classes - When I was  there   boys were on the ground floor,  with playground to the back, whilst girls were upstairs with our own assembly hall, and our playground was at the front of the red brick building - and "never the twain should meet"!   I think we were the last council junior school to go co=ed in Blackpool, following the death of the headmistress.

 Here I am the prim little girl second from the right on the front row of seats.  My photograph is so like the prompt picture (see below).  Hair styles are much the same, but see the popularity of peter pan collars, and still a large class - of 43 - all very regimented with crossed hands in our laps and crossed ankles in our Clark sandals.  Another feature missing from the group  - no signs of any obesity crisis amongst us  here, as we were growing up when rationing was still in force. It only came to an end in July 1954  -  9 years after the end of the war.

**********

We didn't seem to get  individual or class photographs at my secondary school (girls only)  but I remember two occasions when the whole school (about 500  of us I think) gathered on the playing fields for a massive group photograph.  The first year pupils sat cross legged on the grass, with the staff in their academic gowns seated  on chairs, and the rest of the school grouped behind, either standing or  balanced on gym forms.  The result was a large rolled photograph in a scroll box.  Unfortunately I did not see fit to keep these and threw them out when I was having a major sort-out, prior to getting married.   I regret that now. 

My recollection of my teachers  (all female)  is they all seemed quite elderly (though this probably was not the case) and hardly any were married - most would fit the now old fashioned description of "spinster". 

Miss Robinson (English) was a great mimic at adopting dialects and accents.  She brought to life the characters in such plays as "Midsummer's Night's Dream", "The Rivals" and "She Stoops to Conquer". 

I liked Miss Jones (Latin).  Unusually for me, one day I was brave enough to write on the blackboard the jingle "Latin is a language as dead as dead can be.  It killed off all the Romans and now it's killing me!"  Fortunately when she walked into the classroom she saw the humorous side of it - though she got me  to  clean the blackboard. 

Another Welsh teacher was Miss Edwards who more than anyone made me want to study history - my first love.  It is amazing what facts I learnt many many years ago that come back to me when answering quiz questions on TV.

Miss Mutch (German) scared me.  She was from the Shetland Isles, bit of a bean pole, with cropped grey hair and given to wearing viyella checked blouses and v-necked pullovers.  She was burdened with the schoolgirl ditty of "If you miss Miss Mutch, you don't miss much".  I felt doomed from my first German lesson  when my attempt (in front of the class)  to pronounce a lovely German "Ich" came out as "Ick".   Still I persevered.  She was a good teacher, her lessons stuck with me, and I can still get-by in tourist German when abroad. 

From my first term at grammar school, science bored me stiff.    Our science teacher went by the unfortunate name of Miss Smedley, which was far to easy to change to Miss Smelly.  I could not work up any enthusiasm for learning about microscopic creatures such as the amoeba and hydra, nor get  fired up over a Bunsen burner. My  science knowledge is  poor, which is an awful admission to make in the modern world, though I have learned more from watching the quiz show Pointless on TV.  The irony is I went on to marry a physics teacher!  

We moved to Edinburgh where I finished secondary education at a co-ed school and for  the first time in my school life  I was  taught by men   Mr Scott-Allan continued  to develop  my interests in the past with a new dimension to it now of Scottish history, and Mr Ironsides (known as Tin Ribs) kept  Latin alive for me. 

So I have nothing but my memories to remind me of my High School days and University days where I was unaware of any group  photographs ever being taken.  I envy the American tradition of School Year Books - a great resource for family historians. 

I did toy with the idea of becoming a teacher myself, but my Aunt Edith (right)  was not encouraging.  She won  a scholarship to Fleetwood Grammar School , in Lancashire, riding the four miles on her bike in all weathers.  She became a teacher at Burn Naze School in Thornton Clevelys (a poor area of town in the 1920's and 30's)  and had a keen memory for past pupils (particularly black sheep)  and humorous incidents such as excuse notes, written  for absences.  Unfortunately her memorabilia from her teaching days must have been thrown out at some stage as I never came across it following her death - such a pity. 

But a few years ago I had a delightful find, when the school was celebrating its 100th anniversary and featured on its Facebook page fond pupil memories of Miss Danson as their infant teacher.

My student days ended on graduation from Edinburgh University in History - followed four years later by my brother (Science degree) - and look at his 1970's sideburns!  Both our parents left school at 14 years old - our  mother was apprenticed to a local tailor, and was still making her own clothes in her 80s, whilst our  father went to work in a local grocer's shop as the errand boy, later becoming a commercial traveller (salesman)  and rose to the position of sales director.  

 

 My  brother and I were the first generation to go to university - something our parents were very proud of.

I feel I went through education at the best of times, inspired by some dedicated teachers.  

School days were happy days.   

************* 

 

 

Sepia Saturday gives bloggers an opportunity to share 
their family history and memories through photographs

 

 

Click HERE  to  read  the memories of other Sepia Saturday bloggers. 

 *********************