Schooldays: Grammar School In 1970’s Britain – Part 1

Education is a wonderful thing is it not? Clearly it is, as without it, humanity would be completely stupid and have no knowledge of The Wars Of The Roses or WWII or The Roman Empire or how Pamela Anderson’s breasts were medically possible or how to count beyond their fingers and toes and that would be a bad thing wouldn’t it?

They might end up President of the USA a la George Bush Junior or even become a British politician – God or the deity of your choice including no deity at all forbid.

oops.

Still, the principle of education and educating people is a sound one. It’s useful in so many ways. How to keep track of your pay once at work and how to fathom out having sex with a member of the opposite sex – well, sex with a member of the same sex isn’t generally on the curriculum as far as I recall. Shame really. The idea of Lesbians to a 15 year old Norman was something he felt should definitely be on the curriculum – providing they were inordinately gorgeous and fancied him as well.

Grammar School’s in Britain in the early 1970’s were, basically, a bit ‘down’ from ‘public schools’ like Eton and Harrow – where most of our politicians came from. However, we were considered far ‘higher’ than the dreaded ‘Comprehensives’ that catered for the ‘working class’ kids and, even worse, had ‘mixed classes’ of boys and girls. Mixed classes??? Good grief – disgraceful behaviour.

Eton and Harrow et al – upper class.

Grammar schools like mine – Middle class

Comprehensives – Working class

That was Britain’s school system in the early 1970’s and, frankly, nothing much has changed in many ways – apart from the violence reducing, so some changes are good aren’t they?

The Oldham Hulme Grammar School For Boys had the misfortune to have my attendance – when I felt like it – from 1970 to 1976. (It might have been 1969 to 1975 but, at my age and after copious voddy’s what’s in a year or so eh?) There are those who believe it has never entirely recovered from my presence and, for that at least, I am inordinately proud.

Let’s list what Oldham Hulme Grammar School considered misdemeanours that justified having a bamboo cane whacking your ass.

1) Disagreeing with a ‘master’ – they weren’t called ‘teachers’ they were called ‘masters’ which was an immediate worry to a 13 year old Norman on his arrival at the establishment as, even at 13, nobody was going to be HIS master. Punishment : a wooden board duster on the back of the head or the edge of a ruler on the ball of the thumb. OUCH!

2) Repeating the misdemeanor within a day – with me it was mostly within an hour but there you go – a detention after school. As your fellow students ran out of the school gate you stayed behind for an hour and continued to do school work.

3) Further misdemeanors and you were sent to the ‘Head Masters’ office whence he would beckon you to ‘touch your toes’ and he would proceed to whack your ass with a bamboo cane. It was known as ‘Six Of The Best’ as his intention was to hit your ass six times with said bamboo cane.

Victims of this Dickensian behaviour would often be seen running from the Head Master’s office, holding their asses and trumpeting like rogue Elephants. Indeed, I did this very thing aged just about 13 after my first attendance to his study for whatever misdemeanor I had been guilty of. Actually, for one of the few times in my life, I hadn’t been guilty of anything. It was genuinely a case of mistaken identity but I got ‘six of the best’ anyway – which probably started me on my lifelong crusade against injustice.

My second visit to the Head Masters office – I seem to recall it was actually called a ‘study’. A study in precisely what? Child abuse? – resulted in me grabbing his bamboo cane, snapping it in half and telling him exactly were he could stick both halves.

The only reason I wasn’t expelled then – or at any time in my school career – was because the Head Master was a member of the same Masonic Lodge as my father and, frankly, people of that ilk seem to stick together. Shame really. I tried ever so hard to be expelled oblivious to the knowledge that despite my best efforts, Freemasonry would ensure I remained a student of my Grammar School.

The ‘Master’s’ were something of a motley crew. Many were ‘failed lecturers’ who had fallen back on teaching as lecturing at some University or other hadn’t quite worked for them. Some were, quite simply, demented.

Mr. Anderton was universally known as ‘Batman’ purely because he insisted on wearing his black gown regardless of the fact black gowns were only worn by University lecturers. He was, to a young boy, a terrifying man with a terrifying appearance.

Mr. Hodder was known as ‘Abdul’ due to his slightly Arabic appearance. He was also, clearly, a pervert.

At our first Physics lesson with ‘Abdul’ aged just 13, the majority of us were wearing our first pair of ‘long trousers’ as ‘short trousers’ were de rigour at ‘junior school’. Several, however, had yet to have their first pair of ‘long trousers’ purchased for them by their parents.

Abdul surveyed his new class of Physics students.

“My name is Mr. Hodder and you will address me as ‘SIR'” he stated with a frightening gaze, “also”, he continued, “I prefer MY boys in short trousers!”

From there on he would inspect every desk at the end of every lesson to ascertain whether anybody had carved with their compass ‘ABDUL IS A PUFF’. Many did and many emerged from the Head Masters study trumpeting like rogue Elephants.

English Master Mr Convey had the misfortune to have eyes that faced in the opposite direction. When he spoke to you in close proximity you found yourself swaying unsure of which eye you should be looking at. His bizarre eyes combined with his extraordinarily scruffy hair and beard resulted in him being nicknamed ‘Catweazle’ – a popular TV show in 70’s Britain about a magician from the Middle Ages who accidentally travels through time to the 1970’s.

‘Catweazle’ was inclined to shout ‘STAND UP BOY!” at anyone talking in his class. Hysterically to a class of 13 year old boys, given his unfortunate eye condition, nobody actually knew precisely at whom his shout was aimed and, invariably, at least 4 boys would stand up.

“SIT DOWN YOU IDIOTS I MEANT HIM!” he would screech. All 4 or more boys would sit down.

“DON’T SIT DOWN BOY!” he would screech and all 4 or more would stand again.

I believe he retired to an institution for the mentally unhinged later in life.

Parents often told their children “School days are the best of your lives”

Parents often have far more to answer for than anyone is inclined to admit don’t you think?

I will return to The Oldham Hulme Grammar School at a later date. For now, these memories are quite enough for what is left in my vodka bottle ;-).

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