27.4.11

Chalk Talk

Discussing school days and chalkboards with one of my blog readers (do chalkboards even exist anymore?) I recalled that it was once quite a privilege to be the ‘chalk eraser monitor.’  The more loaded with chalk dust it was, the more exciting the act of banging the life out of it, forming a massive cloud of colored dust.   

These days, that would have at least half the class reaching for their inhalers.  I think maybe 2% of the kids at my (large) school had asthma.  We wouldn’t have known an inhaler from a kazoo. Nebulisers?   Never heard of them; would have thought they were some kind of alien weapon from “Lost In Space.”

 Certainly one of the most common simple ‘punishments’ a teacher could mete, if he/she saw someone not paying attention in class, was to hurl the chalk duster across the room at them, hitting them either square on the head, or leaving an impressive branding on the back of their school jumper.  Again, if we transpose that to a modern-day school, I can’t even begin to speculate the cries of protest that would arise, the throng of parents complaining and possibly laying assault charges.

When I was 14, our temperamental English teacher (a very camp gent in ultra-high-waisted slacks) one day became increasingly annoyed as he listened to a group of rowdy girls in our class  mocking novels by Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters.  “Stop it!” he finally yelped. “ You’re just a bunch of sluts!”

Well, that certainly shut them up.  It wasn’t appropriate from a teacher, but at the same time, some of the huffy reactions were hypocritical to say the least.   And guess that?  The two parents who lodged complaints about him, were the very ones whose daughters were being dropped off after school, a block shy of their homes, by guys who drove panel vans.



5.4.11

All Bound For Morning Town

Do children enjoy lullabies anymore?  I remember Bye Baby Bunting, Hush Little Baby (Papa never did buy me that mockingbird) Moon of Silver-White, and a special 'local' one (link at end). 
However, many of us loved to catch the sleepy train to ‘Morning Town.’  Nobody did it better than The Seekers, led by Judith Durham’s amazing voice.



Bed time was rarely negotiable when we were young.  Certainly nothing on television after 8.30pm was considered appropriate for children.  We had a bunch of fun shows to watch after school if we wanted (but funnily enough, many of us preferred to go play with our friends). 

The “big” night for family TV was probably Sunday.  Who doesn’t remember The Wonderful World Of Disney, and how Uncle Walt seemed so kind (but apparently wasn’t in real life) and wondering which ‘Land’ that week’s programme would visit.  “Please don’t let it be Frontierland” we’d wish, much preferring Fantasyland and Adventureland ... Tomorrowland at a pinch. 

Australians will certainly remember Young Talent Time on a Sunday night, and singing/swaying along to Johnny Young’s “All My Loving” at the end.


 And so to bed ... In the 60s, that meant beds with padded headboards and chenille bedspreads.  In the 70s, more likely turned pine or tubular-framed beds with bold geometric-patterned quilts.  Some children had a fluffy animal-cum-‘pyjama bag’ to put their PJs in.  If we were lucky, we'd get a  bedtime story, told by a real live parent, but amazingly, we were able to sleep without a fix of TV,  Facebook or texting our friends.   And probably had more and better-quality sleep because of it. 


PS  Somebody messaged me to include Puff The Magic Dragon.  Is it a lullaby as such?  Certainly is lovely though, with those words every parent understands too well:  "A dragon lives forever / but not so little boys."