Husband and I attended our first school concert event this week, it was an eye opener on many levels. Firstly, Primary School auditoriums are nowhere near as big as I remember them! Secondly, I witnessed some truly lovely nurturing behaviour between teachers and pupils. Upset, scared children were consoled and hugged, others were high fived for their awesome work and some were gently ushered back to their seats when they vagued out and stared at the ceiling for too long. It made me realise how amazing school teachers are and how influential they are throughout your whole life.
I spent some time sitting in that not so big auditorium being transported back in time to the mid 80s, and remembering way more than I had allowed myself to remember in the past. There were some early influences that hadn’t popped into my head in a very long time.....
*queue wavy ripple effect and xylophone music*
Mr Nicholson – I suspect you were the first brush I had with OCD neatness and perfection, you had great influence on me wanting to maintain order and keep my pens in a nice neat row. I have since wondered though if, with your neatly side combed hair, perfectly ironed clothing and smart organiser/briefcase, you were in fact a serial killer, disguised as a Grade 1 Teacher. You know the ones that need everything to be in perfect order and have a little bit of a problem socialising? Often wondered what happened to little Stuart, did he really move interstate...... because his parents still live here.
Miss Forsyth / Mrs Fletcher – yes you got married over the term break! Any royal wedding *ever* had nothing on this – I had never been so excited in my life. We made you cards, we marvelled at your magazines with pictures of gypsophila and rose bud bouquets, your blonde hair was newly permed and trimmed to fit inside your lace asymmetrical head piece. You gave me everlasting hope that if you worked hard and kept your Ford Laser tidy then you too could find a handsome young husband that had hair as long as yours and wore a skinny tie. Mr Fletcher was super handsome and a total Prince Charming, grade 3 girls were consumed with jealousy and plotting your demise. I really do hope you’re still as happy as you were in 1984.
Mr Smith – you were the funniest and most hilarious Grade 5 teacher anyone could ever have. Such fond memories. Yes fond memories, ok and maybe a little bit of a crush, but in my defence you wore those Ken Done knit jumpers with such pride and pizzazz and WOW, zipper shoes – holy mother of invention they were cooler than vests with removable arms! You were the epitome of the young hip man teacher of the 80s. Then I found out you had an affair with the prep teacher and ran away together. Ruined. Ruined. Still upset about that.
Mr Ross, Primary school principal or Chrome Dome as someone’s parent named him. I will never forget the day you chased my best friends and I around the school for throwing rocks at boys. We ran like the wind, just hoping we wouldn’t get a stitch before the bell went, because then we would be safe. It didn’t occur to us that you would be waiting outside our classroom after lunch, didn’t you know that was out of bounds for chasers and we were totally safe? Anyway thanks for letting us attend the leavers dinner after all – My Mum would have been devo if I hadn’t been able to wear my medieval costume she painstakingly put together using a skivvy and my Nanna’s old ball gown...... (seriously though, medieval theme? Not fair, wanted to wear my ra-ra skirt!)
Such fond memories, I’m so excited about following the wee ones journeys through Primary school (not so keen about High School....)
Finally though, with a heavy heart and a keen sense of denial that Kinder is almost over for my eldest wee one, I would like to shamelessly spruik his wonderful Kindergarten teachers - Mrs Horne, Mrs Heynes and Mrs Hodgeman (or Triple H as Husband and I call them), such splendid, perfect first teacher memories have been created inside Charlie’s mind. They have given him the ultimate first impression of teachers, approachable and kind hearted yet they have somehow managed to cultivate a healthy respect for authority within him (which unfortunately he deposits at the school gate on the way home...). A big thank you for my favourite saying, which Charlie changes the name as necessary and repeats to anyone that is grumpy ‘A crabby Mrs Horne isn’t a pretty sight’.
Now don’t ruin it and run away with the prep teacher – it would destroy him
(you get graded in Kinder right? This is going to help , yes?)
(Don’t judge him on my poor use of grammar and punctuation.....!, ..)
