My first day at Haslucks Green Primary School was distressing. For a reason that is still unclear to me, the school year in 1951 began in the last week of August rather than the first week of September. My birthday is the 30th August, and so I was sent home, wearing my new school uniform, because I was too young to start school. I remember being very upset, and so a kindly neighbour, Mrs Wilcox, took me to Dudley Zoo for the day. I remember my excitement being on a diesel train rather than the usual boring steam trains. The old headmaster, who had inflicted this on me, soon retired and was replaced by a younger man, Mr Fox, who all the parents agreed was a great improvement.
When I did eventually begin a week later, I was the youngest child in the school, with some classmates a full year older than me. I remember being instructed how to sit cross-legged on the floor, but little else about two years in the infants’ classes. I did at some point have a starring role in the school nativity play as one of the three wise men. This required me to have my face blacked with charcoal since, by tradition, one of the three wise men was meant to be an African. Needless to say, we had no children in the school who looked remotely like an African.
Haslucks Green Primary School was a single-storey building with a large playground. It had not been built long, but was bursting at the seams when I attended. There had been a great increase in the number of children born just after the war, and the school’s catchment area was a rapidly-expanding suburb. Two large annexes had been built in the playground to accommodate four classes, and a new infants school was soon to open not far away.
After the two years in the infants’ classes, I moved to the first of four years in the junior classes. These were streamed by ability, and I was in the ‘A stream’. Classes were large by modern standards, and we sat two to a desk, in rows facing the teacher. Despite the size of each class, I do not remember any disobedience or misbehaviour. I remember the names of three of my teachers: Mr Baker in 2A, Mrs Evans in 3A and the formidable Mrs Alcott in 4A. We had one afternoon a week for sport, which usually meant football for the boys. This took place in a nearby park, to which we were led by our teachers in a long crocodile. I soon discovered, to my disappointment (and I suspect to the disappointment of my father) that I had no talent for sport. There were also school trips. The only one I remember was a trip to Bristol Zoo, though I am not sure how we got there or what we saw.
Classes each morning were interrupted by drinking milk. This was brought in bottles of a third of a pint in a crate by two milk monitors. The School did serve dinners at lunchtime, but I would always go home each day for a full meal. As I got older, I would walk this journey unaccompanied. There was little traffic on the roads and no fear of assault. What did frighten us was polio, which came each summer until a vaccine was developed in 1955. I think one boy in the School died from the disease, and I remember sensing my parents’ fear. Other infections were common, and I caught measles, mumps, German measles and whooping cough. We all knew the names of these infections and we were expected to catch them at some point in our childhood.
My other memory of primary school was of aeroplanes. In the early 1950s, the RAF was still a substantial force and many of the planes which served in the Second World War were still flying. I remember being in the playground and seeing Spitfires, Ansons and Meteors flying overhead. Our understanding of the world was dominated by the War, which had had a deep effect on our parents, but which they rarely discussed with us. The results of the War were all around. There were still bomb sites in the centre of Birmingham and the Bull Ring was dominated by the ruined Market Hall.
I have no unhappy memories of Primary School. I enjoyed learning and playing. However, this all got more serious after I passed the 11-plus exam and went to Grammar School in Birmingham.
When I did eventually begin a week later, I was the youngest child in the school, with some classmates a full year older than me. I remember being instructed how to sit cross-legged on the floor, but little else about two years in the infants’ classes. I did at some point have a starring role in the school nativity play as one of the three wise men. This required me to have my face blacked with charcoal since, by tradition, one of the three wise men was meant to be an African. Needless to say, we had no children in the school who looked remotely like an African.
Haslucks Green Primary School was a single-storey building with a large playground. It had not been built long, but was bursting at the seams when I attended. There had been a great increase in the number of children born just after the war, and the school’s catchment area was a rapidly-expanding suburb. Two large annexes had been built in the playground to accommodate four classes, and a new infants school was soon to open not far away.
After the two years in the infants’ classes, I moved to the first of four years in the junior classes. These were streamed by ability, and I was in the ‘A stream’. Classes were large by modern standards, and we sat two to a desk, in rows facing the teacher. Despite the size of each class, I do not remember any disobedience or misbehaviour. I remember the names of three of my teachers: Mr Baker in 2A, Mrs Evans in 3A and the formidable Mrs Alcott in 4A. We had one afternoon a week for sport, which usually meant football for the boys. This took place in a nearby park, to which we were led by our teachers in a long crocodile. I soon discovered, to my disappointment (and I suspect to the disappointment of my father) that I had no talent for sport. There were also school trips. The only one I remember was a trip to Bristol Zoo, though I am not sure how we got there or what we saw.
Classes each morning were interrupted by drinking milk. This was brought in bottles of a third of a pint in a crate by two milk monitors. The School did serve dinners at lunchtime, but I would always go home each day for a full meal. As I got older, I would walk this journey unaccompanied. There was little traffic on the roads and no fear of assault. What did frighten us was polio, which came each summer until a vaccine was developed in 1955. I think one boy in the School died from the disease, and I remember sensing my parents’ fear. Other infections were common, and I caught measles, mumps, German measles and whooping cough. We all knew the names of these infections and we were expected to catch them at some point in our childhood.
My other memory of primary school was of aeroplanes. In the early 1950s, the RAF was still a substantial force and many of the planes which served in the Second World War were still flying. I remember being in the playground and seeing Spitfires, Ansons and Meteors flying overhead. Our understanding of the world was dominated by the War, which had had a deep effect on our parents, but which they rarely discussed with us. The results of the War were all around. There were still bomb sites in the centre of Birmingham and the Bull Ring was dominated by the ruined Market Hall.
I have no unhappy memories of Primary School. I enjoyed learning and playing. However, this all got more serious after I passed the 11-plus exam and went to Grammar School in Birmingham.
