I was using my sewing machine yesterday and it made me think of my school days. When I was around thirteen years old I did ‘Domestic Science’ at school; half the year was spent cooking and the other half sewing.
My teacher was called Miss Stuart and she was so strict that you were terrified of doing anything wrong. You had to cut your pattern so perfectly, then tack and finishing the article of clothing on a sewing machine. The stitching had to also be in a perfect straight line and your button holes made to look like shop ones.
If you did anything wrong, she would just rip your sewing apart and make you start all over again. But, for all her strictness, I developed a love of sewing and it has stayed with me my whole life.
My Geography teacher was called Miss Banwell and she was a large lady with a large personality. She gave us all a thirst for travel with her stories and films of when she lived in Africa. The lessons were interesting even though we also had to do a lot of boring work such as map building and drawing plateaus!
English was my favourite lesson, especially Literature, thanks to Miss Goddard. She was a little lady who inspired us all in the pursuit of reading. I still remember reading Jane Eyre for the first time and being absolutely enthralled.
Then came History, which I adore now but my teacher was the most boring teacher you could ever wish for. We would walk into her classroom and she would already be writing on the first part of a three part blackboard. We were told to copy down all her writing from the three boards.
Sometimes, in the lesson, she never discussed anything she had written. The bell would go for the end of the lesson, she would say ‘see you next time’, and leave the classroom. Over the years I have developed my own passion for historical fact but not through her, and the proof is that I cannot remember her name.
I loved Algebra taught by a Scots Lady who was a brilliant teacher, but sadly I cannot recall her name. I remember one time that she called me and a friend to her at the start of class to discuss our homework. (I used to give mine to a girlfriend for her to copy if she had not done hers). She told us that she knew one of us was copying from the other, she did not need to say who, but suggested that the girl copying tried it on her own, as she would never pass her exams!
I love these memories of so many years ago and I did so love my time at school. It has made me the person I am today.