Page 43 - She's One Crazy Lady!

Education, education, education!
I have always loved school – as a pupil and as a teacher.
My academic education started when I was just
two years old when Mum and Dad took me along
to Avondale Nursery, close to where we lived in
Kettering. Isn’t it strange how memories of those
early days are so clear? Days of having to have a
sleep in the afternoon on a simple camp bed, with an orange or grey coarse blanket, choosing a favourite toy to take with you and having a warm bottle of milk to drink with a straw. I was very happy (thanks to ‘Wobert’!). I’ve always felt that entering the world of education at such a young age gave me a good grounding to what was to follow. I loved to learn and still do.
From there, having moved from Kettering to Barton Seagrave, I spent more happy times at the Infant School. One vivid memory was when the Headteacher, Miss Abbott, wrapped my knuckles with a ruler for poor handwriting. I was distraught! At six years old, I knew I was trying very hard because I really did like handwriting and thought my mine was neat and my letters properly formed. I still think about that, even now, and especially when I taught my pupils handwriting skills – always encouraging the children, never making them feel inferior – for not everyone possesses the art of putting pen to paper in a neat and orderly fashion – everyone’s handwriting is unique.
Next, still at Barton Seagrave, a move up to the Juniors and to Mr. Kemp! Oh! Mr Kemp! As a primary teacher myself, for twenty-five years, it always made me smile when children gave me cards or wrote notes claiming that I was their best teacher ever. Well, Mr. Kemp was certainly my best teacher ever! I’m sure everyone has had a favourite teacher.
My junior school days were wonderful. I had so many friends – with friendships that were to extend beyond the classroom and remain for
“One vivid memory was when the Headteacher, Miss Abbott, wrapped my knuckles with a ruler for poor handwriting. ”
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