Bend over & take it like a student!

Graham Reid over at Public Address has written a nice piece covering what you probably could & possibly would remember from events in your life. Or what most people could & would remember anyway.

I remember when I was caned at school. I think this was the only time it happened, because by & large, I was well behaved. I can't remember the name of the teacher who did it, but I can remember what subject he taught, and the circumstances that led up to it. And man, what a miscarriage of justice it was.

But Pontllanfraith Technical Grammar School, Gwent, South Wales, 1972. Metalwork class. The school was a redbrick institution & the teachers were given to swooping around the corridors in their academic gowns. I can't remember the name of the principal, but I do recall his DP was known as Jet (probably a Mr Jones, there were a few).

The metalwork teacher was a severe looking black haired guy with glasses. Generally he was OK. The class was full of light industrial machinery & tools, drills, lathes, that sort of thing. At the beginning of the year, the teacher made a big point of telling us that when we were using any of the mechanised tools, we must give the job all out attention. All of our attention. He would not be brooking any power tool mishaps in his class.

And so, whenever I was using a lathe (clumsily) or a drill (inaccurately), you could be sure that I was so focussed on the job at hand, that not only was there little chance of an accident, but I was also unaware of anything else happening around me.

One day, late in the year, I was drilling holes in an aluminium coat hook (as you do), when completely out of the blue, and unusually, as we were halfway through the lesson, the teacher began calling the roll. I was oblivious. Until... it slowly dawned on me that the class had gone dead quiet, except for my drill, and when I looked around I realised everyone was looking at me.

The teacher made some sarcastic remark. I figured out what was going on, apologised, but thought to myself "Hang on, I was doing what he told us." And then, with a wry smile to my classmates, I went back to drilling holes & concentrating on safe operation of a drill.

Something unexpected then happened. Unbeknownst to me, the teacher began calling the roll again. From the beginning. And sure enough, a minute or two later I became aware that the class had gone quiet again. I heard one guy, Geraint Lewis (for some reason I remember him) giggling. I looked up to see everyone's eyes on me again. I stopped the drill.

The teacher marched down the class, then marched with me back to the front. He then administered a punishment, not technically a cane, but I think, a steel yard rule.

And it wasn't the pain ... it probably didn't hurt that much anyway. It was the injustice. He caned me for following his instructions to the letter.

Bastard. I'll bet he doesn't remember it.

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