Coughing and Schooling

Over the last 10 years or so I have been learning things about the private primary prep school to which I went up until the age when I took the 11+ examination (which in England determined whether you went to a grammar school or a secondary modern school). The streaming system was very academically and socially divisive. 

I assume when it was thought up the idea was to stream academically minded people towards academia and university and 'the rest' to more practical education. I passed the 11+ with flying colours and was awarded the first choice of school which my parents had specified when I took the exam. 

That was Quarry Bank Grammar School in Liverpool. It was the home of many who became illustrious people. John Lennon was a few classes ahead of me. He was eccentric even at school. He also started a group at school called The Quarrymen.  However everything there was aimed at getting those who were Oxford or Cambridge material to one of those Universities.

Unfortunately at the age of around 14/15 I developed a disease called bronchiectasis.

It is a disease which is often fatal. It is often also associated with poverty and lifestyle. It is very common in the Pacific Islands. When I lived in New Zealand the niece of the then Governor General of New Zealand succumbed. She was the same age as I was when I succumbed. The difference was that she was not expected to live. She became a campaigner for better health education and lifestyle for Pacific Islanders in particular.  I believe that she died shortly after I left New Zealand.

My bronchiectasis was caused by the smogs (cloyingly thick smoke laden freezing fogs) common in cities in the UK in the '40s and '50s before the Clean Air Acts banned the use of coal in domestic fires. It had consumed the lower lobe of my right lung.

The result was that I had a wracking cough particularly during my last year at school. It was rather disruptive in class and a number of the teachers just kicked me out of the class. I joined the Natural History Society and the Beekeeping Society so that instead of just standing outside the classroom as I was bidden I went and looked after animals and bees. 

I have had a great love and respect for bees ever since. I have had a rather jaundiced opinion of teachers ever since. I left school as soon as I was legally able to. 

So far as the disease was concerned I was one of the fortunate ones. I had an operation to remove much of my right lung and I have coped admirably in the 64 years since the operation (by the surgeon Mr Leslie Temple). Oddly I can recall his name and many of the nurses I worked with in the Hospital after I left school. It's a shame I have difficulty remembering my own name these days. 

The real point of this post, though, is that teachers and 'the system' thought it was quite acceptable to deny an equal education to anyone if they felt like it. The idea of simply kicking people out of a classroom now because of a disability is, I hope, completely anathema.

Punctuation Day

Today is Punctuation Day. 

Quoting from Brian Bilston's book Days Like These "Punctuation Day, which occurs annually on this date, is a day on which pedants come together to criticise the punctuation and spelling of others, as they do on all other days. Things can become rather heated in the process, with arguments often spilling over into violence. This has led to colons being extracted, infinitives split, bullet points fired, and commas inverted. And for the improper use of ellipses...

He follows that, as he does for every day of the year, with a poem. Today's is entitled "Greengrocers Apostrophe's: and other Punctuation".  It is an amusing read as are most of his daily poems.  

It made me think, though, that the subject of sloppy and just plain erroneous punctuation seems to have fallen off the agenda.  

I wonder if anyone these days even remembers Lynne Truss's book "Eats, Shoots and Leaves"?

Does anyone know if punctuation is taught in schools nowadays?

Does anyone care about punctuation any more? 

Winners and Losers

Something cropped up recently and a derisory remark was made about someone's poor performance in something completely trivial.  It was an unnecessary and cruel remark.

It reminded me of a situation in my life more than 60 years ago in a history class at school.

I was always near the top of the class in English Language, English Literature and did pretty well in Mathematics and Geography and was middling in most of the rest of the subjects. However, in the fifth year I came bottom in the school in the year end history exam. One spiteful little toerag decided to ask the Master who was bottom. I will always remember the History Master's response. "If you have a system where someone is top then there will inevitably be someone at the bottom."  That same toerag came to my house before the GCE asking me to help him with his maths. 

The subject of top or bottom was never mentioned again.

I'm told that nowadays no one is allowed to be 'top' or 'bottom' in school because it might mean some children having mental problems or low self worth.

The reality of life is that that in itself won't stop kids making fun of those they perceive to be less able in a particular way. If we want to do something about the problem then we have to have a positive system  and encourage people to do what they are good at and not necessarily persist with things for which they have no aptitude. 

After all when I was in New Zealand an electrician or plumber commanded a much higher hourly wage than a dentist. [The caveat there is that the fee for dental care included a vast amount of overheads compared with an electrician].

Pip The Pixie

I'm home and, after a couple of days catching up, I'm actually feeling alive again and raring to go.

Over the last couple of weeks bloggers have mentioned books from their childhood, games and Heron even mentioned what I took to be his Tree Elf. I don't have a tree elf but I mentioned that I do have a Pixie called Pip. So I thought this was probably a good time to introduce you. Of course some of you may already know Pip and may have learned some of the same things that I learned as a tiny child when reading about him. Indeed someone on the radio whilst I was travelling mentioned that she recalled how Blackbirds got their orange beaks through reading The Adventures of Pip by Enid Blyton first published in 1949 when I was just 5 years old.

As a result of reading these very short stories (30 in total in a book of about 180 pages with lots of illustrations) I learned all about hermit crabs, why lizards lost their tails, chestnut tree buds are covered in glue, that male sparrows have black bibs, how toads defend themselves, how caddis larvae stop tadpoles from eating them, what happens when the oak tree comes out before the ash and vice versa (not that I knew then what vice versa meant), the injustice of the naming of the 'slow worm', about cuckoos, the difference between butterflies and moths and oh so many more things. 

What was so brilliant about that book was that it taught me so much and, because it was in small chapters made reading interesting too. 

I shall doubtless do another post on my childhood books but in the meantime I shall re-read The Adventures of Pip.