Acklam Hall grammar school

Acklam Hall grammar school

Five years of my teenage life was spent at Acklam Grammar School. And the school intention was that these years would turn me into an intelligent and capable adult, ready to take on a further higher education in university.

 It did not turn out like that.

My intelligence, as measured by academic achievement and progression, did not improve. And I remained bottom of my class in all five years. However, there was a slight improvement in the 5th year. That year was renamed 5G rather than 5C, supposedly because it included the German language in our class schedule.

Capability was a different asset. I seemed to develop a skill that always got me into trouble. A few examples will demonstrate that hidden character in me that blossomed in those years.

The target for such behaviour was often a teacher or classmate. Hilton of the woodwork incident was often the victim. Once we locked him in the classroom cupboard and only a question by the teacher about noise at the back of the class got him released. A favourite trick was to balance the wastepaper basket over the partly open classroom door so that when someone entered it fell on their head.

Unfortunately, it fell on the head of the elderly English literature teacher and broke his glasses! He repaired them with blue insulation tip and I'm sure he did that to reminder us of our silly prank.

Another time we interrupted the steady rhythm of the school by disengaging the bell rope outside the main school entrance. Those perfect senior pupils had the responsibility of ringing the bell to signify the end of play time, the start and end of lunch, etc. Very important. Well, we removed the rope, So no bell ringing! Cool.

Our English literature teacher tried to open up history through literature. For me, mostly unsuccessfully. There are two memorable moments I do remember. One was doing a recitation of Shakespeare. It was Henry the Fifth and he said, “once more unto the breach, dear friends, some more: or close the wall up with our English dead”.

Of course, I cannot place the historical circumstances, but do remember the start of that speech. Perhaps it was because of that fervent patriotism us English are known for. What Winston Churchill would have caught described as stubborn foolhardiness.

The second incident was a play where each class put on a play around a theme given to us by the teacher. We got TS Eliot. I'm not sure which one it was, but we were instructed that it was a serious statement on society. I played a woman, as did my classmate Paul Speed. Unfortunately, he had very short hair, so to compromise we tied a large ribbon round his head to signal that he was a woman. Things quickly unravelled, both physically and metaphorically. First, I managed to catch Paul's ribbon and it unravelled across the stage floor in the middle of a scene. Paul immediately stormed off the stage and the play halted until our teacher told us to continue from the next page.

Of course, by this time, we were completely rattled, and many missed lines appeared, and prompts were needed. To cop it all, we heard that our classmate stage manager had taken off with our collective snacks and was believed to be under the stage, wolfing them down. These class plays were competitive, and we awaited the outcome with some trepidation. The judge, Clem Heath, in a very dry humoristic way, stated that the class had managed to take a serious play and turn it into a comedy, successfully! Therefore, we were awarded the winner for Year 4!

There was a lot of mischief during my time at school and of course there was always a price to pay. It could be “go to the headmaster boy” or Foxtrot.

Standing outside the headmaster's office signified you were waiting to be physically punished with a cane across your buttocks. Seems quaint 60 years later, but that was the punishment. The headmaster let us choose what instrument he would use, The thin bamboo cane, a leather strap, or a canoe paddle. I chose the paddle on the presumption that such a broad area instrument would spread the load of the impact. Such was it, for over the years I had the honour of being introduced to all the instruments of punishment.

Then there was Foxtrot. The deputy headmaster, named Fox had designed a punishment that was also physical exercise. It involved walking around the covered quadrangle after school. It was overseen by the deputy headmaster as well. The number of rounds was determined by the severity of the offence.

I can say with some pride I covered many, many miles doing the foxtrot.

It was not all bad at school. I was clearly dumb at most academic pursuits, but I excelled at practical classes such as woodwork, gym, and sports.

When I reflect why that was, I think there were two main reasons. A natural talent in mastering physical tasks, where there was always a goal and a sense of achievement., a completed flowerpot stand, ability to climb a rope in the gym or winning in a sport event.

I excelled in sport; in winter it was rugby and in summer it was athletics. Surprisingly I did well in the high jump. I say surprisingly because I'm not built for that sport being short and stocky. However, there was a new method of jumping. Previously we used the straddle technique where your stomach was nearest to the bar, and you straddled your legs over. The Fosbury flop was totally different. You approached the bar at speed and jumped, turning your back to the bar, and flopped over. I never mastered that technique. So, my tenure as school high jumper was short.

Junior school; me top right

Rugby was quite a different story. I started as a prop forward, in the front row of the scrum, supporting the hooker, whose job was to hook the ball backwards so the scrum half could retrieve it and deliver it to the running backs. However, I was not strong enough for that brutal position. So transferred to a wing forward position. Now, the wing forward has two jobs, pushing the scrum and attack the opposing scrum half if the opposite side got the ball, or protect his own scrum half if we got the ball. Here also I was not heavy or tall enough, so I migrated to a scrum half position where I excelled.

Senior school;me top right

The scrum half had to retrieve the ball from the scrum and then distribute it to the wingers through the flyhalf who started the attack. I was so quick that I could follow the wingers and join in the line as an extra runner. This was a great advantage over our competitors. So, from junior level to finally represented the school in my fifth year was a real achievement normally only accorded to the 6th formers. I got noticed by the county and made it to the Schoolboy County trials. Alas, that was the end of my rise to fame in the Rugby World. 

Anyway, there were other considerations to consider. Leave school and find a job. Or go on to sixth form and extend schooling into university.

Again, examination results would determine the outcome.

The dreaded A levels.