Another reason I probably hated primary school was that I was chronically shy as a kid. This is something that people who know me now laugh about, as I’m a bit shouty and “let’s do the show right here” these days. Back then, I was more whispery and “Oh don’t look at me, there’s someone else doing a show over there”.
Looking at old school report cards, the key words are “quiet” and “conscientious” , which is teacher talk for “I can’t remember who the blazes this kid is, but they can’t be any trouble or else I would at least know who they are.”
Meeester has similar reports, yet he is Foghorn Leghorn these days.
All this is certainly putting paid to that old quote: “give me the child until seven and I’ll show you the man”
If I were to be like the seven year old Misssy now, I would not be telling you all this, as I would be firmly behind my Mum’s skirt pretending you weren’t there. You might try to coax me out with sweets, but I can assure you, I would be having none of it.
So as Junior Misssy’s first day at school grows closer I wonder what’s in store for
her. She’s vastly different from me, so the next seven years should go fine. I am even looking forward to getting a couple of notes home saying that she was caught setting fire to something or was setting up illegal poker games.
Indy, however, was built from the same blueprint as me, but when teachers tell me he’s conscientious and quiet, it doesn’t bother me.
The quiet kids are just saving their noise up for later.
* * *
So first day memories then folks. You know what to do.
Mine are:
1. Sat with two kids I didn’t know and we all shared our crisps so that we each had a bag with three different flavours. One other girl was wearing her green cardigan under her pinafore.
2. Wouldn’t let my mum walk beside me on the way to school, as I wanted to go myself. She humoured me and stayed several paces behind like she was a wife in some hardline Arab country and I her domineering husband.
3. The teacher was called Mrs Potts, which has to be the best Primary One teacher name ever.
4. Was told to look out for my Uncle’s name on the School Dux board by my gran, but didn’t know anything about ducks or indeed how to read. She is still going on about this achievement 30 years later. I think she wants it written on her tombstone, “Loving Mother to a son who was the Dux of the School”
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Misssy at 8 (far left)
