Is never easy, ask anyone with ginger hair who attended school where they were the only one (or part of a minority group), what their experience of school life was like. They were probably the one remembered within any group of children misbehaving and most likely the easiest target of their peers. Though that's not always an absolute, it will generally be the case.
My first experience of school was traumatic. The level of noise within the classroom itself was overwhelming, not to mention the fact that I could not distinguish enough of what the teacher was saying to respond in the manner she was expecting, simply because I could not hear her. This also meant that initial impressions were not good on either side.
I was also upset, never having been parted from my Mother before.
The huge number of (over 20) children I'd not met before and having no concept of what I was expected to do in this new situation added to the distress. It didn't help that the teacher (Mrs Rose) decided that I should occupy the corner of the classroom because I was crying.
No doubt things have changed considerably since then?
Early school reports frequently commented, "Barbara is a very quiet, shy, polite little girl".
I didn't just have good manners, by the age of four (pre-school) I also had a well formed vocabulary and used it without being aware how extensive it was in comparison to my peers. Although I too had a local accent, mine was much softer and considerably less obvious by comparison. My Mum was a snob.
I was also highly selective and learnt the value of being observant.
I began to appreciate that what was said was often very different from what was seen to be said and furthermore, what was understood by those around me.
Mum and her friends often talked about other families. I knew them by surnames: The Brannigans, The Bloods, The Balls, and the frequency with which these surnames were mentioned and the associated reasons. I went to school with kids with these surnames. A few times I asked my Mum where these people, she and her friends talked about, actually lived. I also knew roughly in which direction these kids lived and Mum referred to the same areas.
I didn't like some of the children. There was something about them that I didn't want to associate myself with. I don't remember being forbidden from playing with them, but I didn't want to be their friend, consequently, I was bullied by them. My best friend in Infants was Marie Oak. She too was targeted by the bullies, simply because she was my friend. I also remember the names of the bullies.
My Mum made numerous visits to the school regarding this. The advice she gave me remained the same, "Ignore them and they'll go away".
They didn't.
Mrs Rose had a daughter, who she introduced to the class after a lesson where she'd explained about beauty. During this class she told us that the most common physical aspects were less attractive than the unusual, she explained this with example, stating that a combination of blonde hair and brown eyes was the most visually attractive.
My hair is a shade of brown that's almost black and I have hazel coloured eyes (i.e: blue/green/brown).
Mrs Rose's daughter had blonde hair and brown eyes.
It was also about this time that I overheard Mum and her friends discussing a neighbours habit of bleaching her daughter's hair. The girl, at the time, was about 10 years old. When I asked my Mum about it (not understanding what bleaching meant apart from household cleaning) I was told that this was not to be mentioned outside the home.
Mrs. ........... also had a son, who was younger and brown haired, who played with my brother and I, along with the other kids in our neighbourhood - outside school hours.
Mrs.......... was also discussed because she had a medical encyclopedia and often complained of strange ailments. When I asked my Mum about this she told me about hypochondria and how this was evident if someone, who'd never been abroad, claimed to have exotic illnesses such as malaria, as an example.
Our family were unusual, in that, though we were Catholics, we didn't go to Mass on Sundays. I began to experience problems at school as a result. Mrs. Rose also didn't seem to like me. When her daughter came to our school 'on a temporary basis' (which lasted for a few months), she told me I was not allowed to play with her, but no explanation was given.
One summer's day, during the afternoon 'break', after watching everyone else playing 'tic' with Mrs Rose's daughter on the school yard, I wandered onto the school field. I sat down on the warm grass and started to create a chain of daisies while watching the other kids playing together. Mrs Rose's daughter followed me and asked if she could help. I was pleased because I'd thought perhaps she didn't like me and that was why her Mum had said I couldn't play with her.
Other kids followed and joined in, but one complained to Mrs Rose and I was sent inside and reminded that I was not to play with Mrs Rose's daughter - ever.
I learnt to play alone, though I welcomed other kids who wanted to join in with my imaginative games, it was with some trepidation.
I was glad to go to Juniors, our school had a brand new building, just completed. There was a much bigger field too.
Somethings didn't change, Marie still sat on the floor behind me during morning assembly. She still liked to play with my hair, often undoing my plaits and re-plaiting. Other girls noticed this and sometimes there were arguments over who got to sit behind me and play with my hair during assembly. Mum also started to complain about the occasions she'd find gum in my hair, and I learnt about head lice, and why to trust only Marie.
I didn't like P.E. or Swimming.
Apart from the fact that the other kids seemed to use this time to attack me under the guise of 'sport', items of clothing would always disappear. I rarely found my underskirt, and any part of my uniform was subject to change.
I was called a 'Liar' by other girls who were wearing my skirt, blouse, and cardigan. The Teacher would tell me to "Get dressed and stop crying!" and to wear whatever was in the pile where I had left my clothes. Trying hard not to cry, I'd be forced to put on old, torn and dirty clothing. Mum started writing my name on every item of uniform and underwear. That should have helped but, the teacher refused to check labels herself, she'd send 'notes' home instead.
I was confused, we had so many lessons when we were taught about the "Christian Ethos", yet while there were opportunities for this to be exemplified, the actions of adults in authority didn't match what they taught.
Since 1999 there has been the following statement from the CES (Catholic Education Service) in relation to Ethos.
"Each Catholic school has its own distinctive mission statement which expresses its shared sense of purpose. Fundamental to that purpose is the belief that every person is made in the image and likeness of God and finds fulfilment in God alone. The mission of the Catholic school is to seek the ongoing development of every pupil and young person and to promote their well-being and freedom. This vision shapes the daily life of the Catholic school as a community in which faith is expressed and shared through every aspect of its activity. Through the pattern of daily prayer, through the celebration of the sacraments of the Church, through works of charity, through a striving for justice in all it does, a Catholic school seeks to be a catechetical community in which the content of the life of faith is shared.
In these ways, the meaning of life, as proclaimed in the Catholic faith, is explored and experienced by all those taking part in the life of the school, whether they are baptised Catholics or not, practising their faith in their own parish or not, or members of other faith communities or not".
Mum took me to our Doctor (Rivelin) when I continued to refuse food and complained of nausea along with frequent headaches.
She took his advice and insisted I go to school dinners. She spoke to the dinner ladies who agreed to ensure I did not leave the dining hall without having ate every meal.
During the first week, I learnt to leave class with haste to get in the queue (first sitting) in order to have any genuine choice in the main meal provided. That if I didn't eat the main course I was not allowed dessert. To check out the dessert available when selecting the main course and not worry so much if this was semolina.
I was allowed to go back to packed lunches after the Dinner Ladies insisted I have Liver, served with onion gravy, boiled potatoes, carrots and sprouts. Dessert that day was my favourite, jam sponge pudding with custard.
I sat through two sittings, with my plate of liver in front of me. I ate everything around it, I even tried to eat the liver, in the hopes they'd let me have my favourite dessert. I returned to the dinner ladies several times, to check how much of the jam sponge pudding was left and if they'd finally permit me to have any.
Eventually, I was the sole figure left amongst the (by now gleaming) tables in the dinning hall, after having been the first 'customer' in there that day. The dinner ladies had told me, "You are Not to move until that dinner has been Ate!" and no one at my table had wanted to swap.
The Headmaster, Mr. Gregg, came searching and found me in the dining hall.
He told me off too.
My Mum had, from the first instance, explained the problems I had been encountering.
When I arrived in class I was generally told that one of three girls (part of a group of friends) was intending to 'get' me that day.
Advice from my Mum was to ignore them and these threats - but how does that work in reality?
The Teachers (including the Head Teacher) recommended reporting these threats to them.
However, when I did, I was told I was being silly and, "Don't make things up, sit down and get on with your work!"
This is after the children involved had Admitted to making threats in the first instances.
Right, so... not only were the responsible adults pretending there wasn't a problem, I was supposed to pretend too?
That works... how?
Are we all pretending there are no criminals too?
I suppose victims of murder are 'pretending' to be dead?
Still, it does explain to me why everyone 'ACTS' surprised and say things like, "Who knew?!"
I could tell you Who Knew!
So don't tell me that bullying isn't an institution, it begins in the home environment and is actively encouraged within schools. Failure to acknowledge it is lying - by Omission.
Teachers and 'other staff' co-ordinated scenarios I did not want or invent.
I wasn't the first child to be subjected to these issues, and those children (or adults) in places where there's willful ignorance will continue to be victims.
Though let's not pretend no one knows how or why!
In reality.....
People don't want problems, if they can justify doing nothing, that's exactly what they'll do - Nothing.
Or worse, once it's established that a particular child or individual is considered to be the problem (victim and consequently the smallest minority) it's fairly easy to then contribute to the issue.
The only question is, why?
Why did my Teacher, who was fully aware of the situation, insist I remained at my desk until everyone else had left the cloak room. She knew that, as a habit (associated), I would usually be the first to leave the class, get my coat and leave the school premises.
She knew why.
She wasn't left to guess, she'd asked me and I told her.
Simple
You'd think!
One afternoon, in autumn, when I was 8 years old.
I sat at my desk - as requested. While the rest of the class went into the cloakroom.
I paid close attention to the gates of the school.
I knew that at least 4 girls from my class had not left the school premises.
Eventually the Teacher, as she fastened her own coat, told me to fetch mine.
I left my seat and went to the window,
sitting on the bench beneath were these four girls
I pleaded with my Teacher,
"Please Miss... those girls... " and I pointed to them.... "... are waiting for me."
The Teacher said, "Well don't leave them waiting, go fetch your coat and go!"
I looked up in horror.
Was she pretending not to know?
".. but Miss, they're waiting to get me"
"Are they... let's just see about that shall we?"
She opened the window and spoke to the girls, "You're not waiting for Barbara are you?"
They replied in unison, "No Miss"
Seriously, did she imagine for one moment their answer might be, "Yes" ?
She turned to me and said, "Off you go then Barbara"
The window remained open, I knew they were able to hear what was said within the class room and that I would shortly be leaving the classroom.
".. but... but... Miss..."
"No buts, I've had just about enough of this nonsense Barbara. Go fetch your coat and leave immediately!"
I went into the cloakroom,
I took my time.
My Teacher came in and told me not to run when leaving.
I knew two things;
What it was to despise someone, and that I had no intention of walking.
