(Illustrations: St Peter's C of E Middle School staff and pupils, and our trip to Tyne Tees Television.)

It was time for our son Peter to begin school, St Peter’s First School, following a short time in reception, and that’s when a teaching vacancy came up at St Peter’s Middle School, and so I applied for the post and was successful!

I was then not only able to accompany my children to school and back, but also put in a full day’s work in the process! This gave me a renewed sense of purpose, I was so excited that I was going to be teaching once more.

The one thing I did worry about beforehand was being able to add up the pupils’ dinner money quickly enough to get into assembly on time! I had visions of holding other classes up. At the end of the year, it was Bob who checked the final annual totals in my class register! There were certain subjects I could sail through, but Maths has never been one of them.

I got to teach my own children, but never once did I single them out for special attention. I recall one pupil asking me if my own children would be calling me ‘mam’ or ‘Mrs Hamil’ at home!

St Peter’s C of E Middle was a real ‘family’ school; it was tiny in comparison with other local schools, but it was very much a part of the life of the community, and the local church which stood adjacent to it; the close-knit staff were all so friendly, I was in my element and so happy to be working there.

Here were school trips, visits to outdoor activity centres, after school clubs, performances of school concerts and musicals, even a choir which had previously been run by Sister Pamela, a nun. These were already part and parcel of school life before I started teaching there.

An annual prize giving day was part of the school’s reward system, and proud parents were invited to attend. The headmistress ran ‘a tight ship’; yet she loved the children and was involved herself in teaching, and in the creative activities of the school, particularly drama productions. Her husband was on the staff too.

The children were most enthusiastic singers in school assemblies with the encouragement of PE teacher Mr Roughead, who accompanied them on his guitar. And I was delighted to be asked to join in him in and assist.

My workload certainly increased, but I didn’t mind, I had found my niche again.

As PE teacher at St Peter’s Middle School, Mr Roughead regularly led his classes out on cross country runs in Wallsend Burn, with its many woodland paths, and of course he needed another teacher with him to accompany the children, in case any child strayed and got lost. Therefore, when it came to the year 5 PE lesson, I was the one who went with them. I wasn’t really used to running distances, but I had done sport, particularly netball, and an endless amount of walking so I was fairly fit. I was positioned at the rear of the group with the stragglers, which suited me fine.

The more energetic children would run on ahead of Mr Roughead, but soon I learned to keep my eyes on where he was going, for he would suddenly change direction without saying a word, and lead the slower runners along a different path. The faster runners, who’d sprinted ahead, would then suddenly realise we weren’t following them, and they would have to turn back, and cover twice as much ground in order to catch up with us, as we were the ones, in the lead then.

It was hilarious; you would think they would have got wise to his tactics each time, but no off they went faster than the speed of light, right out in front of us.

Until he changed direction again!

Being such a small school, our sports teams never had much chance of success, as we had limited space; we didn’t have a gym or a large playing field to call our own, and we only had two very small sized yards. We did have an assembly hall though, which could be put to many uses, but I often wonder how Mr Roughead managed. Not only that but other schools had hundreds of children to choose from for their sports teams, whereas our intake of children was fairly small in comparison.

But what great little personalities these children had, and big hearts. They were so keen, they were content, and how talented they were.

Our school choir sang on Tyne Tees Television for five consecutive Sundays, two songs per programme, for a series called ‘Morning Glory’. A coach was hired to take them along to the studio, and the children were so excited, but unfortunately when they stood in front of the cameras, the studio was too hot for them, because of the bright spotlights. Some got headaches and didn’t feel so grand, so bottles of water were provided. I had asked the producer if they could take their grey jumpers off, but they were not allowed to, as the white of their shirts would have overwhelmed the cameras.

The children were determined to carry on though, regardless; they had learnt all of their words, and we recorded ten of my own songs, one straight after the other. They all sang so beautifully, they played their instruments so sensibly, and even danced, despite all the heat. They were perfectly behaved in front of the cameras and gave me their full attention, as I played guitar and directed them.

Only one boy pulled a little enquiring face whilst on camera, and that happened to be . . . Stephen, who usually never put a foot wrong!

I was so proud of them all. They thoroughly deserved refreshments upstairs in the studio café, at the end of recording.

One of a teacher’s greatest pleasures is to meet up with past pupils, find out what they’ve been up to, and have a good chat to them. This was the case, when I met up with Pauline, who had been a pupil in my class at Buddle Middle School nine or ten years before, and who was now a teenager.

We met each other in the street, and she talked about a job she was applying for. She asked if I might be able to do a reference for her. However, not very long after our little chat, I heard that she’d been killed in a road accident!

I wasn’t teaching first lesson, so after assembly, when the hall had been cleared, I sat at the piano in the hall, feeling so sad, and I began praying for her and her family. A tune came to me on the piano, and also a clear picture of a child who was wrapped safe in the arms of God.

The words came immediately.

Go to sleep my little one

Rest well in God’s arms

For you are a child of his

Rest in Peace

Go to sleep, my little one

Now that night has come

Morning time will soon be here

Rest in love

Go to sleep bright shining light,

You’ll forever shine.

You will always be my child

God’s and mine

Here is the link for this song: Sarah, my daughter kindly allowed me access to her son’s photos for this video; she often used to sing it to Jake as a lullaby to get him off to sleep when he was young.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5yb4eRhdu3s

There was a school mass each month, but only a couple of children received Holy Communion, the rest received a blessing. Judging by one or two comments I overheard on the way over to church, not every child was all that ‘enthusiastic’ about attending mass.

Being a believer in children being able to play a part in church services, and not just simply spectate, I asked if the school choir could sing a hymn during the service. Permission was granted, but just before the service, as I arranged where they were to stand, I was told,

“It’s not a performance you know!” by the priest at the time.

Yes, it certainly was a performance, and God, on his throne in heaven, would enjoy every single word these children sang as He listened! I went into the vestry and told the priest as much.

From then on, I have always tried to include children somehow, in services I’ve led, whenever they’re there!

I was very fortunate to have been given the chance to teach at this school, which had such a real Christian ethos. Teaching the children there was effortless, as staff and pupils got on so well together.

It was a sheer delight to be a part of this school, but it wasn’t to last for much longer, an entire new school system was on its way.

Middle Schools (9-13 years), were soon to be phased out, and our little family school was one of the first to go through this process of readjustment, and close.

Our pupils would remain on the Middle School site, ‘in limbo’, for purposes of reorganisation, for one year only, until Central Middle school, their next school, could accommodate them. Those old enough for high school would go straight there after the summer break.

Our headteacher, Mrs Benson, was appointed as the headteacher of the new Primary school on the First School site, and she began interviewing our staff for her new school, as several of our teachers were needed there, so it was a very tense time. Who would go and who would stay?

So as teachers, we were put in a difficult position, we had to decide whether to ‘swim off to the brand-new liner, i.e. apply for a position at the new Primary School, with a job assured, or remain on ‘the raft’ with the ‘spares’, our years 7 and 8, with no guarantee of a job at the end of the year.

I chose to stay with the spares, in their transition year, my daughter was one of these children, and I’m so glad I did. It was an easy choice for me.

A new headmaster, Mr Shell, was appointed for that one year, and what an excellent choice it was for this temporary post. He was a capable and sympathetic, an understanding headteacher, and ideal for the changeover.

The Christian ethos remained, beautifully so. I was given free rein to do more school performances, during that final year; ones I had wanted to write music for and produce.

I write about them with gusto, rather than all the other subjects I taught, because I believe that staff and pupils working together on projects of this kind, add something special to the whole atmosphere of a school, and boost the pupil’s creative gifts and enjoyment of school life, in a system, which these days seems so focussed on academic achievements. Besides, the music was taught as part of our music lessons, and any acting was done in ‘out of school’ hours or lunchtimes.

We had already produced Pilgrim’s progress, ‘The Land of Far Beyond’ the year before and I’d written all the songs for it, but I was in my element that year, being encouraged to do more. We did a musical production of Christmas Carol at Christmas and I began writing the songs for that. Then later that year we did ‘our own version of the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, but we had to rename it the ‘Magic Wardrobe’ for copyright reasons!

I would hurry home with our children at nights, give them their tea, and while they were playing out, I would hurry to the piano to compose songs. The songs came in thick and fast, sometimes two or three times in one night, convincing me such songs were far more God’s gifts, rather than my talent!

We had a super drama centre in Wallsend in Charlotte Street, where a very enthusiastic janitor there got caught up in our enthusiasm, and helped us with our props and scenery. He made a magnificent Queen of Narnia’s sledge, and an ingenious revolving arched doorway, which led our children from stately home, into Narnia. This large swivelling prop was pure magic when the spotights went on, on the night of the performance.

One day, we took our choir along to a schools’ music festival at Denbigh Middle, in Howdon, and there the choir sang one of my songs from The Magic Wardrobe, a song called , ‘Come Little Edmund’, with its ‘LA, LA, LA, LA, LA, LA chorus, and they sang it really well. Afterwards, all these children from every school in Wallsend, were allowed outside for play and a breath of fresh air.

That’s when I heard children from the other schools echoing our song, the one our choir had just been singing, and particularly that LA LA chorus.

To think that children on hearing a song once, wanted to sing it for themselves thrilled me no end.

The song went like this:

(White witch)Come little Edmund

Come little Edmund, come closer to me,

No, you may not place yourself on my knee,

Come and divulge to your dear Auntie Jade,

Tell me what you have to say!

La la la la la la la la la,

La la la la la la la la la

How dare you come to me all on your own,

I want three others in front of my throne,

Turkish Delight was my promise so true,

If you had brought them with you.

La la etc.,

Edmund) Majesty I’ve done the best that I can,

Left them behind in a house on the dam.

Homely old beavers looked after us all-

And Aslan is coming to call!

La la etc.,

Witch)  Little boy are you quite sure this is true?

If you are lying your life will be through.

I must make ready, I’ll make me a pledge

I’ll chase after them on my sledge.

La la etc.,

I also wrote my very first rap song whilst at this school too. I had been escorting a class along to the baths one day, and one of the pupils who knew I wrote songs, asked if I could write ‘rap’ songs.

I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about, so he offered to bring a cassette in for me to listen to, and I was fascinated with this style of music, a style I’d never heard before. I happened to be writing quite a few songs for Easter at the time, and so I began to put pen to paper, after reading John 18, and a rap song emerged, called Barabbas the Brigand:

The words had a natural rhythm, and the words fell naturally into place, and the children enjoyed performing it.

So thanks to either Jason (or was it his brother Andrew?) Hall for inspiring this song.

Barabbas the Brigand

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EATW1t9f8M

Narrator:

So Pilate went back to the Praetorium,

And he said to his men, “Tell Jesus to come!”

And he asked him straight,

was he King of the Jews,

And Jesus replied, “Do you have any clues?

Do you ask me this of your own accord?

Have others spoken to you?

Do they call me Lord?”

* * * *

Pilate was shocked, and said, “Am I a Jew?

This is MY question ans I’m talking to you!

Your people disown you now, what’ve you done?”

“My kingdom’s not here, it’s a kingdom to come!”

“ Ah!

So you are a King!”said Pilate to him,

“Yes, yes”Jesus said “Yes I am a King.

I came into the world the truth to bring,

And I’ve spoken the truth in my witnessing”

* * * *

Pilate turned to the crowd and said,

 “Here is your King,

And I’d like to say, I find no case against him,

Now it is the custom and it’s yours, not mine,

To release one prisoner at the Passover time!”

* * * *

“Which one of these men should I give to you,

Barabbas the brigand.... or the King of the Jews?”

* *

CRUCIFY HIM! CRUCIFY HIM!

* * * *

LAT THE KING OF THE JEWS

 BE SENT TO THE TREE,

BARABBAS THE BRIGAND

 IS THE ONE TO FREE!

GIVE US BARABBAS,

 AND WE WON’T MAKE A FUSS,

BARABBAS THE BRIGAND 

IS THE ONE FOR US!

BARABBAS THE BRIGAND

 IS THE ONE FOR US!

BARABBAS!

At the end of that marvellous year, the headteacher from Central Middle School, Mr Hickson, happened to be at our school, and he asked me if I would go for interview for a post at his school, which was amazing, because we’d been told we would all have to apply for jobs elsewhere soon.

He told me years later, at a school reunion, that when I went to see him, he didn’t actually get the chance to interview me, I had interviewed him! I also asked one teacher, on the quiet, what the year 8 boys were like at this school. I won’t tell you what his description of them was, but I will say it was rather ‘negative’, but I decided from his honest description, that this was the school for me, as I was quite keen to work with more ‘challenging’ pupils. Besides, Central Middle School had excellent facilities; a large art room, a playing field, a massive gym; and there was a freer timetable which allowed teachers there to teach from their own particular strengths. My strengths were Art, English, History, RE and PE. This meant that I would be able to liaise with other teachers, who preferred to teach Maths, Science I.T.and Geography.

Tailor made! I would gladly do it all over again, that is, if I were younger and had the same energy as I had then!