4m x 3m Omlet pen, cube, new auto door still boxed and coop light

[Aga n Chickens]

It was around this time of year in 1965, my first day at Infant School in a small mining village in the north of the County. The school was around 100 yrs old and had tall blue painted walls with huge radiators painted the same colour.

 

I was sitting with Mum in the corridor opposite the Assembly Hall.

 

The teacher had just put a record onto the RP, and a tune I recognised years later as 76 trombones started to play.

 

Then I heard it…..such a squawking, screaming racket in the corridor to my left….what on earth was it.

 

My grip on Mum’s hand tightened as the noise became louder and the cause of the racket was about to appear.

 

Around the corner came a ‘crocodile’ of children, fingers pressed tightly to their lips in a “shush” manner, and all wearing crepe soled sandals.

 

It was their footwear creating such an ear splitting noise as they skipped with all their might along the highly polished wooden floor.

 

I must have been traumatised at the time to associate this vision every time I hear 76 trombones.

 

Regards,

 

Christine

[Olly]

you and I must be nearly the same age! I can remember it as if it were yesterday, although it was actually January 1966. I should have started school this time of year, but it was a brand-new school still being built and wasn't ready in time.

 

They couldn't get the front door to open on the first day, so we had to go in through a fire-exit! I had never met any children my own age before as I'd never been to nursery school and my brothers and sisters were quite a bit older than me. Mum must have prepared me very well though because I can't recall a moment's hesitation or nerves, going to school was what big girls did and I wanted to be one!

 

Happy days. I loved school then ... wish I'd gone on feeling like that into my teens!

[Aga n Chickens]

Hello Olly

 

I think that we were expected to grow up quick in those days.

 

Because I have a brother 3 years younger than me, Mum had her hands full and once I knew the way to school I was expected to go and come back on my own.

 

The traffic wasn't as bad as it is now and I did have a friend I met at the top of the road and we walked to school and home together.

 

I don't think many 5 year olds now would be expected to walk on their own without adult supervision.

 

Regards,

 

Christine

[The Dogmother]

I remember mine clearly - the infants school was opposite our family home and I was born in January, so started school in that month 5 years later. There had been such a heavy fall of snow that it came ove my little red wellies and my mother had to carry me across to the school. I also remember the path that my father had dug up the driveway to the road, I was so small that it seemed like a tunnel.

[Louise]

I remember mine

 

My brother who was two years older took me and the school was quite new (1976) and right at the end of our road

 

We had to be shown our peg and each one had a little symbol next to it so the ones that couldn't read (I could) were able to find their picture till they learned their name and we each had our own drawer in the classroom and they had the same pictures on

 

I was so dissapointed with my picture it was a shop till Other people had cute animals etc and I got a till

[Jules.]

at your till, Louise!

 

Ethan has a picture of a bee on his peg & tray- for some reason he doesn't really like bees, & he has told his teacher so!

 

As for my first day at school, I can't remember it, but we do have the obligatory photo of me proudly holding up my red home-made pump bag.

[Ain't Nobody Here]

Nope, can't remember a thing about it . Can't have been that traumatic .

[Egluntyne]

I can clearly remember asking, on the way home "Why has Miss *******got whiskers like Grandad's? "

 

Well she did have! It stopped just short of being a handlebar moustache, poor thing... ....and out of the mouths of babes etc.

[alexgirl73]

Don't remember it at all. But my mum has the pics of me in my blazer with my hair in bunches and me holding my little brown satchel

 

What I do remember is not long after starting (I was only at that school for a matter of weeks, which will become apparent why), that it was a cold room with all those little wooden desks we had to sit at (no nice communal tables like now) and I was slow sitting in mine when the teacher told us to. So she dragged me down to the front of the class, pulled down my knickers and slapped my backside!! When my mum and gran found out, they both marched round to the school, and my gran slapped the teacher across the face, shouting at her, 'hit me, go on, hit me, not a wee lassie'!!! So I was withdrawn from that school rather sharpish to start at another Can you imagine the uproar if something like that happened now? (and I was only a 4 year old )

[Phonix]

I have no idea about my first day at school - i remember what the school was like but nothing about my first day!

 

x

[Yorkshire Pudding]

alexgirl73 -

 

 

Thank goodness it wouldn't happen now. She'd be out of a job.

[Chicken Licken]

I remember hiding under the table at infant school and being terrified of the teacher - I was still terrified of her when she taught me again in senior school 6 or 7 years later!!!

[Cate in NZ]

Can't say I remember my first day I'm afraid, must have been in 1966 I'd guess and I went to a school called Oughtrington in Cheshire. I remember loads about walking too and from school, and odd memories of lessons. I remember learning about decimalisation and making butter in milk bottles, and the head teacher, Mr Winstanley, oh, and the old Anderson shelters that were still in the school grounds at that time but strictly out of bounds. They actually filmed an episode of a TV show (I think it was The World at War, or something like that ) and we all had to dress up in 1940s childrens fashion for the day to appear as extras in the programme. But I really don't remember the actual first day...obviously didn't have an impact on me then

[MedusA]

Apparantly I clung to the school railings, screaming "Mummy, Mummy. Don't leave me here! I want to go home with you and Pie." (Pie was my nickname for my younger brother.)

 

Fortunately I have no personal recollection of this and my earliest school memory is doing one of those puzzles with shaped wooden pieces that fit into spaces on a back board. I probably "forgot" my trauma as a coping strategy!

 

My most vivid primary school memory is the last day of summer term. I was so happy, I was swinging my PE bag in wild circles. It caught around my ankles at the top of a flight of steps and what followed was inevitable. I had a massive graze instead of a face all summer holidays and I have still got the scars along my hairline where they had to dig pieces of gravel out!

 

And they say your schooldays are the best days of your life!

[Guest]

I remember my first day. My mother took me round to the school and we had to sit in the reception area waiting to go to the classroom. I felt really frustrated that we had to wait so long, I just wanted to get in there and start learning! And I couldn't understand why the other girl who started the same day was wailing loudly and didn't want to go to school at all.

I was very surprised by the classroom, which I guess for the 60s was very avant-garde. Tables, not desks, and lots of toys all around. Very little learning it would seem. I remember being given Queesonaire (sp?) blocks later on to help me with my sums (adding units!). I didn't understand what they were or how to use them - and I could do the sums anyway!

My first report said "Ginette must learn how to play". I think my mother prepared me too well for school. The first year was a total waste of time.

[Ana's flock]

I remember! it was end of September 1967. I had just turned 5. The school was 'the Holy Heart of Jesus', a catholic convent school - boys and girls had separate classrooms. It was an old little building with just a few classrooms. It smelled of jasmine and stale cat wee. It was a weird mixture, cat wee still brings memories of that school. We had to wear a uniform.

 

My mum and dad had told me I had to be very good or the nuns would force me to kneel with hard peas under my knees. I was terrified!.

 

The school was a bit dark, old black tiles on the floor and green walls. We had to queue and then we went in following our nun, to which we had to refer as 'sister'. Mine was Sor Humildad (Sister Humility), an old, chubby and giggly nun, very friendly. We had to kiss the crucifix before we went to our seats. Then, after praying the class began.

 

I was asked to do little vertical and horizontal sticks, but I had already learnt to read and write at home so I surprised Sor Humildad by writing my name and two surnames in nice round letters, and drawing a little pony as a bonus! (Then she asked me to at least complete a full page of boring little sticks, then circles etc...)

 

We used to sing the numbers up to 100 moving our hands in different ways for the 10s, the 20s etc... but I already knew how to count!

 

I had to stay for lunch - I was a fussy eater and my parents thought that I'd learn to eat new things this way - I hated the food, all full of 'things' floating in the stock. The 'dinning' nun force fed me (nose pinched, spoon pressed against mouth) until I was sick - the following week I was having my lunches at home, like most Spanish children do.

 

I didn't like 'play time' - we shared playground with the boys, who came running and crashed against me and made me fall over. It was too noisy and I didn't have any friends. (I had not attended nursery).

 

Funny the things we remember... I must have been a right little nerd!