For the children
A healthy child becomes a healthy adult
For ALL children
Whenever I write a poem. All the credit goes to the person that saw a spark in me at an early age. And being poetically gifted, published and locally renowned herself. She kindly decided to nurture that potential in me. When I recently wrote one in a response to a family friends email. The subject of Granny came up again, and again reminded me of all those hard times at school where no-one believed or would admit that I wrote them.
Granny Brown does have the monopoly on bringing out my God given gift of writing. Particularly the poems. You know, I did show promise at school, though more with short stories; I remember besides the odd comment, much more of the praise went to their favourite pupils -probably children of the governors or other teachers etc. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I note, no-one said to Grandma, he's a bit of an all rounder this one. If they hadn't put so much energy into quashing my talents they might have been better teachers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Never thought to suggest that we have a lesson for the kids stuff, for all to send in and may the best one win!
This goes on and on. Pointing out the environment at home was more peaceful, happier, quiter, safer, had less distractions. The teaching was one on one. But we also should note at this point that the teachers at school in their jealousies neglected to realise this point. And so further compound their dyer failings and embarrass themselves at their ignorances of what they should know as is part of their 'profession'. An ametuer beat`them at their own game, and they couldn't take it! So they took it out on me along with their b****** children!!!!!!!!!!!
Also. I had a thought the other day that might be a real gem of an idea!
I was thinking on the lines of the above, and how one or two of those ...(any word/s you want in the blank!) teachers seemed to like ...my name so much (!) that they would wait until I was drawn into the table conversations for some-one to shout at! ...
Now, this may have been anything from the other kids being softer, or having tougher parents etc. -whatever.
My thought is: It might save future children from such scarring if they were allowed to name their table! A number won't work as it will cause friction, elitism etc.
The exercise would be one in negotiation, and every-one would have to agree that name was their tables, and with teacher' assistance ensure no-one else had it. Probably better for the whole year if possible as changing each term might be counter productive -if the teacher shouts at -or "to" the wrong table.
If necessary/apt. The students may select a rotation for the speaker of the table. (?? Perhaps that's a bit advanced/far fetched???)
Table suggestions, could be for cars "Ford, Vauxhall," but teacher must take car to select cars or makes with the same status!
TV. Personalities, famous events, TV. shows like soaps etc. You get the gist. There's something for every-one. A table could call itself "Blue!", while another could call itself "Corrie" -or the themes could change per term.
I'd sent this to some-one who knows a lot of teachers... Now, maybe we can help make a difference?
Incidentally, the poem wrote:
Don't know about soldier
they called dad a coward
he hid me well under
the bulletts they showered
He had no weapons
While they had ten fold
the plot deepens
grandparents were old
Bullets and bombs
care not where they go
they're laying in tombs
of where we don't know
Please Dear Santa
what time I don't know
find me a safer
place I can go
You won't find me sleeping
Or playing in snow
for big bangs and flashing
are all that I know
But wishing for hope
And praying for peace
not by gun and rope
but Grandad's release!
Jn. (A Grandson of M.S.B. "Granny Brown")
Now I remember the shocked exclamation of a jealous teacher when Pete Morgan visited the junior school. "huh! He likes his poem!" -Some of the class had been boasting that he would like theirs better. "Yours is only a few lines!". Other than that, I remember enjoying his talk very much, though typically not taking anything in. My verse was. Birds flying high, birds flying low. "Oh! no!" said the leader of the flock. "We are in England now, and the starlings are getting us.
When I got older, I was told Granny had said it was about racism. On reflection it was strained straight from the heart, annoyed that the teacher a Mrs. Olerenshaw had made me stay in to finish it. I had not realised the importance!!!! It truly is something I would have missed. I dearly treasure it!! Thanks Mrs. O. though you're probably no longer with us, I see now a bad tempered old woman had my best interests at heart!!!!
(In case you haven't guessed I felt bullied by the teacher /etc.)