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Hello my name is Doreen , and i went to the castle st primary school in Saffron walden quite a while ago now, as i am 54 years old.
I would like to comment about my early school days, it may sound to you like an extract fron a dickens novel, but
i was sent to school when i was 3 1/2 because of my mothers necesity to work in order to feed us.
I knew very well my age was,my big brother had taught me to count, so my mother had teach me to lie about it . she brain washed me into saying
that i was five years old, at that time the legal age for getting a place in a school was 5 to 7 not more or less.
she took me to the school , on the long walk to the school from Painters lodge i had decided that this age thing was a game, and i was piling on years
3 1/2 - 4 - 4 1/2 - 5 - 5 1/2 by the time i got to the school gates i was abot seven and a half ,as long as i didnt say my real age
it was ok .
Mother got through the interview, and i was acceptd as a 5 year old to start school imediately.
My first day at school was a disaster, i dont know if anybody remembers the headmasters wife mrs Herbert (if ever the word *** came into its own)
well i was taken directly to her class.
she looked at me taking in every detail from top to toe, curling her nose up as if i had a bad smell, asked whats your name i answered
Doreen maisey, on hearing my sirname she screwed her top lip and narrowed her eyes saying.. oh... yessss, i know your brother , making it quite obvios
that she disliked him and me for being his sister, she continued : so just watch your step, i know who you are, SIT , THERE she shouted.
I cried a little, i had never encountered an adult like her before , that was my first experience of hate, i turned in desperate need to the only friend i had,
it was my pet caterpillar found that morning and put into my pocket for safe keeping, the child that sat next to me had an instant attack of histericks
screaming at the top of her voice , i said confused but its only a caterpillar, but that just her scream more.
Mrs herbert pulled me out in front of the class and slapped me several times on the legs leaving red weals withe little spots as the blood tried to break through the skin.
I refused to kill the caterpillar or throw it in the bin, so i was sent to sit outside the class on the cold step all day as a punishment,
far from being a punishment for me it was a releif to be away from this mad woman.
There was a cloakroom in between the class and the outside door,and so as mrs Herbert wanted to know that you had not strayed from the step she gave you
a wooden block and hammer, it was like hamering wooden nails that came out the other side,then you turnrd it over and started again
this made a bit of a noise , and she could hear it throgh the two doors, if you stopped she came out and smacked you.
after a while i had got a good rythum up, and was quite happy singing hang down your head tom dooley to my improvised percussion instrument.
So what for others would be a torture 4 hours of banging a block was for me a happy release, and spent more time out there banging than in class.
My teacher was spitefull to me from the word go, she wasnt like that to all the class just the few chosen culprits.
my whole infant school life from 3 to 7 was spent in classes where all the children were much older and what i was trying to learn was far over my head.
when i was 7 they found out my age and made me repeat a year but i was still a year younger than the rest.
Before my 8th birthday i was raped by the baby sitter a young man who was the son of a friend my mothers in birds farm lane,
because of his threats i never told anybody until i was 30.
As a result i went into a deep depression and cried constantly , could not consentrate on any school work.
and was sent to a special mentally retarded class, where i continued crying for some time.
My mother was never informed about my problem with the school work ,or of my constant crying, or even that they had seen fit to send me to a
special class where you learned very little. she found ot by accident two years after.
Well this true story is all about how to end up with no educacion, i could tell many a more tale about my school years but this is quite long enough,
and i suppose im not the only one who has things to say about the subject?
thanks for reading me
Doreen
P. S if there are any spelling mistakes ...well you know why.
Dordygail
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