041 - Chapter 41

(Illustrations; Collage; The cast of Bilbo Baggins: Central Middle School)

I know it can’t have been easy for St Peter’s C of E Middle School children to be swallowed up into the completely different school environment of Central Middle School. It was so much larger than their own, there were more children and a lot more teachers’ names to learn. Then there’s always that fear of the unknown!

Of course the process of being transferred had many benefits too, so perhaps ‘swallowed up’ sounds a bit harsh. Which word might the children themselves have used?

I brought Peter over, a year early from his Primary school, not only was I wanting to keep my eye on him, he doesn’t mind me saying this, but also he had real strengths and much potential in sporting activities, and there were far better facilities at Central.

It was, in the end, the right decision, because his athletics, cricket, gymnastics, football and especially rugby really took off! Obviously he had to leave his friends behind for a while, but after one year they too, would be transferred to the same school. Also, I knew he was good at making new friends, so I wasn’t overly concerned.

Whenever he ‘pushed his luck’ with Central Middle teachers in class though, which he was wont to do, one or two of them felt it was their duty to report it straight to me, so that wasn’t really fair on him. No other child had to put up with that, so I kindly asked the staff not to do this.

I took to Mrs Varley, head of year 5, straight away. She was an expert when handling children. I had always been taught to project the voice in order to be heard clearly, but she spoke in such a kind, gentle voice, almost a whisper, so the pupils had to be very still and quiet themselves, so they could hear what she was saying! It was a cute ploy!

I can’t mention every single teacher, but they were amazing, and just as friendly and supportive as our previous staff at St Peter’s C of E Middle, and they were all so eager to make us feel at home. All subjects departments were run most efficiently.

On reflection, I think I may have been appointed by the headteacher in case the children from our small church school, needed a familiar face around the place; and to be someone to be there for them if things did get tough.

This was one of the reasons I wanted to go there too! But on the whole, apart from the bullying incident I’ve already mentioned earlier, the transition seemed to go extremely well.

It was so good to see the children mixing together, and making new friends, and becoming part of new sports teams, gymnastic displays and school productions there.

I was itching to do a production myself, but I was happy to bide my time.

There was just as much talent here in Central Middle School, if not more, as they had double the number of pupils. Some children’s talents were obvious straight away. Their faces appear in my mind, so easily from the dim and distant past.

Patsy Burn, now Patsy Gilbert, was exceptional. She was a fabulous singer and actor, and went on in life to do voice coaching. She became Vice Principal and Director of the School of Performance at Leeds Conservatoire. Calvin Uren was another superb actor with marvellous acting skills and clarity of voice.

Martin Brunton another pupil had, and no doubt still possesses, an amazing talent musically. Not only did his music teacher at school recognise his potential, but also his parents who invested in a magnificent keyboard for him. His father was his ‘roadie,’ forever carrying it all over the place for him to perform at various venues. Martin was a natural, a genius of a musician, and he knew that keyboard back to front, and inside out, he was such an inspiration to us.

Later, still as a pupil, he often played and recorded for me over the years at school, as his talent developed and my responsibilities grew.

Julie Chambers, a Year 8 pupil, a talented artist, came to me one day, with a piece of homework, which was outstanding. It was a sketch of an elephant. She had put her all into this drawing at home, bless her, but it was all so in advance of her years, that I just couldn’t believe she had drawn it herself, without assistance! But she had, and her class work demonstrated proof of her great talent. I wonder if she ever realised that my disbelief was the greatest compliment I could have paid her!   She is now an interior designer of some note in the North-East, and still Sarah's best friend.

Colin Curran was another fabulous artist and also Laura Atkinson, who designed the logo on our school badge. They had ‘the golden touch’ too, which comes to very few students.

My own grand-daughter Leah is now in this category, but she lives in the South of Engand!

Looking back to when I first began teaching, at Buddle Middle School, there was one pupil at the school who wrote essays an adult would have been proud of. She could only have been ten years old at the time. Her name was Jennifer. In the arduous task of marking and correcting large pile of essays each week, hers was the book I always kept until last, as a treat! I loved the artistry of her work, the beautiful handwritten script, her imagination, her exquisite choice of vocabulary. But one such pupil stood out for me at Central, certainly not for his written English essays, but for his ability to tell an extempore story.

Let me explain that one particular day in an English class, I invited the pupils to tell a short story; to simply make it up and tell it in front of everyone else. Many able writers volunteered, but they found this quite a difficult exercise to do, to be put on the spot! Peter, my son, kept putting his hand up eager to volunteer. Judging from the essays he usually handed in, I assumed that he wouldn’t have much of a tale to tell. Eventually I allowed him to come and try.

What happened next amazed me and taught me an invaluable lesson; never to underestimate anyone! And so he began.

His story was about an adventure in a jungle, and he went on and on, telling his story most fluently, making it all up as he went along, and in the most interesting manner. It must have lasted about fifteen minutes! The class were engrossed, and listened intently to him, as did I!

I was absolutely flabbergasted, my mouth fell open! There are such hidden depths to Peter, he has so many wonderful gifts, a lovely lad.

Who would have thought, years later, in October 2002, as a firefighter at Wallsend fire station, that he would be called to Central Middle,when the school was empty and had already closed its doors for good, due to more reorganisation. The old woodwork room in this now empty building was on fire!

The fire was being fought externally at first, but then Peter and his colleague were sent to inspect the room and surrounding area, from the inside. Being a former pupil, he knew the exact layout of the woodwork room and was able to give advice about the ‘hidden cellar’  under the floor. It could have been a dangerous situation but his knowledge of that room with its cellar, probably saved lives that day!

After a couple of years at Central, I produced Christmas Carol again, having done it once already at our church school and I had the most wonderful support of Home Economics teacher, Mrs Atkin, and her mighty team of parent helpers; who provided the most amazing costumes for the performance. They also did the make-up. The Home Economics room was their meeting place, and club room, and always a hive of activity. Not only did we have many talented teachers here at Central, we had this galvanised team of parents too, whose own children often rolled their sleeves up after hours and got involved too.

Pupils also rose to the challenge, when we did a mammoth drama production of ‘The Adventures of Bilbo Baggins’, which was based on JRR Tolkien’s ‘The Hobbit’.

I got carried away composing the songs at nights again, and the children responded well to learning them in their music lessons with me.

I held auditions to choose the pupils most suited to the parts required. Notices went up on the wall, such as:-

‘Audition this lunch time for anyone wishing to be trolls, ‘only ugly and rough characters need apply!’, or words to that effect.

Or:

‘Bilbo Baggins, main character needed, this person must be fairly small and be able to learn many lines and deliver them.’

Auditioning for a production was actually my favourite part of doing drama in schools. I just knew which child was right for each part, the minute they stepped forward; and it was so exciting to see them morph into their new roles, during rehearsals, having learned their lines so quickly.

The child I chose for the role Bilbo Baggins was a great performer, Luke Dale.

I recommended him to the studios at the BBC and they sent someone to see him on stage. He was given a part in Byker Grove, which was a very popular show at the time, and what an experience for him, one I’m sure he will never forget!

My son, Peter also excelled himself again. I knew he could sing, but didn’t realise how strong his voice was, and he was selected to play the part of Smaug the Dragon. He wore the dragon’s head, which had an open mouth, two of his friends were the body and tail; but when he sang, he sounded just like a real rock singer, a right little Elvis Presley.

“I am Smaug, the dragon, I’m gonna lay my fire upon you!” he sang.

Mrs Atkin, and her team of helpers, once again got to work on some truly magnificent costumes, which were all were ironed and labelled, and hung on rails.

We booked the Charlotte Street art centre once more, whose caretaker again provided us with lighting, scenery and backcloths.

In the Art room, which was my domain by then, we made props of wolves’ heads, masks, swords and many other weapons.

It became a Cecil B de Mille production, it was epic, with everyone working together as a team, giving up their breaks and free time.

I was delighted when Mr McRae, came to work at our school; he was a ray of pure sunshine! He was such a talented and creative pianist, and was great at composing tunes. He had a very good rapport with the children and he even taught maths through his musical rhymes to children who sometimes found maths concepts difficult!

On the quiet, he composed theme tunes to describe every teacher in the school, whether it was a shuffle, a brisk walk or lively march. I don’t suppose they knew about this, but they do now if they’re reading this! He played a few examples one day for me, and it was easy to guess which tune belonged to which teacher! I then asked him to play my theme tune, and it was spot on!

It was a really fast Penelope Pitstop run. It was me down to a T!

He knew a lot of modern Christian hymns and songs too, we had that in common, and morning school assemblies became an excellent start to our day, with him on piano. I would accompany him with my guitar. He was a great support with musicals I wrote from then on.

Christmas Story, in 2001 was one of them, all done with large life size puppets which were made in our Art room, and we recorded our songs at school professionally.

Dave’s singing voice was brilliant as he sang along with the children. He performed a second rap which I wrote for King Herod, called ‘There is a voice in Ramah rap:-

I'm feelin' aggravated and so infuriated,

The wise men said they'd come back,

 and they lied.

They promised that they would,

when I told them that they should.

When I get my hands on them,

 they're gonna DIE !

And now I got the hump,

 in my throat there is a lump,

And I'm so devastated I could cry.

It's all been fabricated.

That a king has been created?

Is this just another star up in the sky ?

But what if it's all true,

 this has come out of the blue,

What a big, almighty fuss this babe has made.

My scribes were never faster,

 to premeditate disaster.

If I let him live he'll put me in the shade !

So I'll have him expurgated,

 and then annihilated,

And I'll be liberated only then,

If all children two and under,

By the sword are cast asunder,

In the pestilential town of Bethlehem.

"Go !" There is a voice in Ramah,

"Go !" Wailing and loudly lamenting,

"Go!" It is Rachel weeping,

"Go !" Weeping for all of her children.

Refusing to be comforted,

 because they are no more !

"Put an end to him!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKOySPVeuYY...

We tackled the Easter Story together too with the children, and what inspired me to have a go at tackling a project like this, was the fact that we had an excellent set of year 8 boys by then, who were really enthusiastic. No puppets this time.

The first to volunteer, was a pupil called Chris McCabe, who was chosen to play the part of Jesus, and through his initial willing participation, all his friends wanted to get involved too, as disciples. He was a born leader, and later in life, he joined the army.

Also a fellow member of staff, Ms Bronski, was training cloggy dancers at school at that time, and they were ideal for the role of the Scribes and Pharisees, stomping their way across the Temple floor.

The Easter Story took place on five consecutive morning assemblies, two songs at a time, and I found the chidren's perfomances so moving.

On the Thursday morning, when we did the crucifixion scene, I remember Christopher telling me afterwards, that he’d had a very strange ‘tingling feeling’, as he was supposedly dying on the cross. This cross had been attached to the wall, and he had ‘died’ against it.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Ea96ubrKrs

Father into your hands

It was noon

When darkness came upon the land,

and everything was gloomy until three.

Sunlight failed,

the veil was torn in two,

and all around was eerie,

and our hearts they failed us too,

as a voice came drifting

softly moaning like the wind, crying:-

“Father...... into your hands,

I commend my spirit!”

This he said,

and then we heard him breathe his last.

We heard a soldier say this was God’s Son

We hung our heads,

And wept aloud with shame

So sorry for the slaughter,

And appalled at what we’d done.

Then a wind came drifting

Softly moaning like his voice, crying:-

“Father.......into your hands,

I commend my spirit!”

© 2000 Sheila Hamil

This is what he wrote to me not long ago, when I asked his permission to quote what he said to me way back then:

He wrote:

'Afternoon Mrs H. I love this story, the picture comes around in the picture memories this time of year and Rachael loves showing me off . I’ve no issues at all with you writing about it. I think the reasons I wanted to do it the most was to break that stigma and doing a bit acting at school wasn’t a particularly cool thing to do especially at that age when you’re trying to find yourself before the high school transition but saying that we recruited quite well.

That Thursday morning I’ll always remember too, as I was standing on the cross I always remember the ‘aura’ feeling I got and the feeling of emotion.

As a family we weren’t regular church goers but I always enjoyed going to St Peters church as a child through primary school, listening to yourself and Father John who lived within the grounds, St. Peter’s Church was always somewhere I felt as a bit of a safe haven, the details within the church etc and so much so that, as you know we sent Isla to St Peters Primary and we had her christened there as a baby.' (Chris)

Ms Bronski, the teacher who taught the cloggy dancers, who had been standing just outside the hall by the door, remarked on the ‘power’ that seemed to be emanating from the hall that morning as the children performed.

To have had so many willing and dedicated 12-13 year old boys, all participating and taking their roles seriously was more than I ever dreamed possible!

They, and the other children, staff and parents were truly amazing.

I taught at Central Middle school for 15 years, and it was by far the most creative time of my life, I wrote the vast majority of my songs there, and dramas for children, as well as for adults to use in church. I led morning assemblies, painted during my holidays, (there was no time to do my own work in the Art room) I had to be an extremely organised person, to fit everything in, and still be there for my family.

I was also a bit of a perfectionist!

So it’s no wonder, now that I have retired, that I sometimes dream about not being prepared, I can’t find what I’m looking for; and my files and notes are lost! I should be calling these nightmares, not dreams.

Something like this did happen to me once in an OFSTED inspection at school, and I was forced to walk the path of absolute trust, when I found myself in a chaotic situation. First let me explain that I had written a drama about the Pharisee and the Tax Collector, in the form of a rap. One boy was going to represent the righteous Pharisee, and was going to dance with modern moves showing how ‘superior’ he was., as I read out the words of the  rap. (see below) Another boy was the repentant tax collector, and he was ready at the end of the drama, to deliver the lines; ‘Father forgive me, a sinner’. (Luke 18.9-14)

That morning the first boy came to see me and told me he was too nervous to take part! This was with fifteen minutes before the assembly was due to start! I had no-one lined up to take his place. I tried reasoning, praising the boy, and even a little pleading, all to no avail. He didn’t want to play the part, so I told him not to worry, and off he skipped happily.

When he left the hall, I silently cried out, “Help!”

The drama went like this:-

Parable of the Pharisee and the Tax collector (Children’s Version)

Narrator: Two people one day came into church, one was a Pharisee, the other a Tax Collector. The Pharisee stood up and this is how he prayed.

I’m GOOD, I'M GREAT

 there’s no-one quite like me,

Look around at all the others, and you’ll see,

They’re LAZY, THEY'RE SELFISH, 

they tell tales all day long,

And I cannot be faulted for I never go far wrong.

And so he continued………

I’……m PERFECT, SO CHEERFUL, 

a pleasure to have around

I work just as requested,

and I never make a sound

He’s MESSY, untidy,

 his work is such a STATE,

And mine is simply perfect, 

and my homework’s never LATE.

And so he continued……..

I……. give my money to the poor,

 I give them what I can,

I say my PRAYERS AT NIGHT-TIME 

and I am your biggest fan God

But I’m pleased I’m not like him, 

always in a MESS,

And what I am about to say,

 you’ll never GUESS

And so he continued

He’s not been in the good book

Not seven times like me,

So am I getting through God?

Aren’t you pleased …. You’ve got a son ….

 Like me?

Narrator:

The other child would not even raise his eyes to heaven, but hung his head in shame and whispered…….

Oh God, I just can’t help myself at times……. I’m so sorry!

Which of these two went on their way forgiven?

© Sheila Hamil revised January 2014

I returned to the classroom, to register the children, unsure what to do, with ten minutes to go to the assembly and no replacement for this dancer!

Then word came from the inspectors, that they needed to inspect my Liaison file that morning, and that ALL of them would be present at my assembly!

“Oh no!!” I cried out in my mind.

I found the file and sent it off, then my class came in, I took the register, and I led them to the school hall in a daze, asking myself, “What are you going to do, this is disastrous?

I reasoned that I could always do the dance myself and try and ‘rap’ at the same time, but that would have looked ridiculous.

The headmaster gave out notices, and then introduced me, and I stepped forward, in front of the whole school, members of staff and every inspector in the building!

In that split moment, it came to me that I should ask for a volunteer, and explain that the dancer was sadly not able to play his part.

Not one child volunteered at first.

So I waited a few seconds, then explained what I was needing the volunteer to do; i.e to dance a modern dance and move around as I recited a rap poem to some music, until I signalled for him to stop.

Another few moments of silence!

‘Oh well do your best!” I thought to myself. Get your dancing shoes on!

Just then . . . a hand went up in the air!

It was Wayne Bell, a very quiet lad from Year 8!

 I will bless him as long as I live!

I called him forward, and he came to me smiling and confident, even though he’d had no dance rehearsal whatsoever to the background music, which I switched on; and off he went dancing freely and without any embarrassment, to the words of my rap on the microphone.

And he was, without a word of a lie, brilliant!

He was all over the floor with excellent dance moves, and the children loved what he did.

Everyone applauded him, then after a few seconds: there was a hush as the final words were said, and the second child, (the Tax Collector) knelt down to pray:

‘The other child would not even raise his eyes to heaven,’ I narrated,

‘but hung his head in shame and whispered…….

“Oh God, I just can’t help myself at times……. I’m so sorry” ’

Which of these two went on their way forgiven?

Even now I look back on this, my most challenging assembly, with relief, and also joy at the way God had stirred up Wayne’s heart to volunteer!

When I had first walked up the few stairs leading into the hall, I’d sensed the words. “Trust me. One step at a time!”

This certainly was a lesson in trust, most certainly, one step at a time!

Incidentally one of the inspectors, approached me afterwards to tell me how much he and the others had enjoyed the assembly, but then he whispered, “But it was set up wasn’t it, you did have that boy ready and waiting didn’t you?”

He looked shocked when I told him that wasn’t the case.

I ended up as Head of RE and Head of the Art. I also taught some English and History, which is why I loved the Middle School system. A teacher could teach from their strengths in a few subjects, rather than try to be efficient in all of them.

I did my best to make each lesson as interesting and creative as possible, and poured myself into preparation time once our children had gone to bed at nights.

Eventually I became Head of Year Five, then later Head of Lower School which was a miracle, as the very first question I was asked in my interview in front of the head master and his governors, froze my mind! A tsunami of ice took over my brain.

I could achieve a distinction for my OFSTED, but I could not answer this one simple question at the interview. “What is a child capable of doing when they arrive here from their First School?”

It seemed like a trick question it was so easy, but unfortunately Piaget, an educational theorist whose books I’d read at college, got to my mind first. And so I began to waffle, and then even though the question was simplified by the headmaster; my mind was still iced up.

Why could I not recall Piaget!’ ‘What exactly did he teach?’ I just didn’t get it! I could have said a thousand things our children were capable of at that age, but it became like an out of the body experience.

If anyone should ever ask what my most embarrassing moments were in life at school. This would definitely be at the very top. But moving on, I answered the next set of questions more eloquently, and I did get offered the job!

Unbelievable! I would have given the job to someone else had I been on that panel!

I loved all the pupils I taught. If I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, you cannot teach and NOT love the children you teach. If a person doesn’t like children, then they shouldn’t be in teaching at all! That’s my philosophy anyway.

In my next chapter, I’ll explain how I came to be called to ministry in my later years at Central Middle School. And how the head master supported me all the way.

I think he was relieved he wasn’t going to lose a member of staff, he was in fact about to gain a chaplain.

Pupils would sometimes share their worries and problems with teachers, but if a safeguarding issue was ever divulged, the officer of the school had to be informed, and action taken.

Once a pupil came to me to tell me about weird and strange dreams that were disturbing her sleep each night. I prayed with her there and then, outside at play time where I was on duty. Her terrifying dreams disappeared from then on, so she later told me, but unfortunately such dreams visited me for a few nights after that!

There were one or two prayer opportunities like that back then, not so now for teachers or doctors in today’s world, more’s the pity, but I understand the new ruling.

One weekend, during our school’s field study at Otterburn, we at home, heard of a a very distressing incident there, involving a terrifying gas explosion, due to a faulty connection of an old oven! Some of our staff, the secretary, parents and one or two children suffered burns.

It had just stopped raining, and the majority of our children had been sent out from the dining hall there, to play, fortunately for them. Not so the ones who remained inside the kitchen.

Mrs Atkin, was one of them, and the deputy head, our school secretary, and some parents, one of them a very close friend and member of United Folk. They all had to wait three quarters of an hour for the ambulances to arrive from Newcastle, whilst trying to douse themselves with water constantly, from sinks and puddles.

I was allowed to visit them, in the General hospital, and offer support because of the ‘dog collar’. I might not have been able to otherwise.

That was an awful time for them, and so very painful, as it took many months for some of them to recover.

Another disaster around then was 9/11, it was a time when some people right across the world began to be fearful and suspicious of all Muslims when this act was really the work of extremists.

We were doing Islam in RE, and a Muslim acquaintance of mine had already agreed to come with another friend, and talk to the children in RE, in order to answer any of their questions. I had met one of them at a memorial service that I had taken at St Mary Magdalene, Longbenton for his Christian friend, who had died abroad. I had warned them that we had the kind of children who asked difficult questions. They said they were happy to answer any questions. When they arrived, I told them of one question which I knew was coming up, and gave them the chance to avoid it, but they were happy to answer it.

That one question was a dodgy one, and I wondered what they would say, as the children sat waiting for their answer.

I put the child’s question to them, asking: “What were you both doing on the day the Twin towers fell, and what was your reaction?’

One of them replied,

“ I was watching it on TV . . . and I cried all day.

The children hadn’t expected such an answer, but it was a unifying moment between them and members of different faith to our own.

I look back on my time at Central Middle School with great affection, but I do recall anpther disaster. A minor one!

Just before the school term began, when we were notified at home, during our holidays, that a large water tank in the roof had burst, and some of our classrooms had been flooded. I recall my horror at finding that most of my work files had been practically destroyed. The plastic storage wallets, inside every subject file, and all my administration files on the window sill, where I stored them, were waterlogged! Each plastic envelope inside the files, looking like a container filled with water. All my written lessons plans had to be rescued somehow from their soggy state and ink smudges, and there were only a few photocopiers for every teacher in school. What a nightmare that was.

I made more use of a computer after that.

When the National Curriculum decisions were being made, it was all change, all stations go, and all our own teaching plans became obsolete, completely out of date. It was a case of ‘out with the old and in with the new!”

It was the hope of the government that children would benefit in the long run, from being taught the same basic core knowledge in the key subject disciplines to ensure they came up to a certain standard. But I need to ask certain questions now of the system as it is today.

Shouldn't there be more emphasis on the more creative and more practical subjects, because such subjects as these provide for, and develop, many essential life skills such as self-esteem, confidence, courage and communication, and they allow many hidden talents to come to the fore. I get the impression that the main emphasis is to do with academia and assessments, but perhaps I’m wrong?

Also, what about those who unfortunately fall through loops in the system, and fail to achieve the required standard, through no fault of their own; due to autism, dyslexia, disabilities etc?  Are their needs, their interests and talents being met, or are our schools not able to provide as such, because of underfunding? What effect will this have on the mental state of such pupils?

I have no regrets in my time as a teacher. The work the children produced, the excitement of planning lessons, the productions that were performed, the music that choirs recorded, the friendship that was shared, the family atmosphere. . . it was all just so perfect. The children in our schools at that time were all such happy individuals. The children we taught at Central Middle enjoyed school, and also being part of one big family. 

It had been such under the guidance of the previous headteacher too, Mrs Keenaghan, and I had the pleasure of interviewing her for one of my radio programmes years later, on account of her 'Kindertransport' experience, as a child fleeing Nazi Germany.

I definitely taught at the right time in life. I don’t know how I would have handled the ‘hoops’ teachers have to jump through today, as they try to keep up to date with the demands of the curriculum, amidst all the many constant changes in classroom trends. Add to this all their intense assessment duties, preparation, marking and administration tasks.

I’m filled with admiration for teachers of today.

I still keep in touch with many of my former pupils on Facebook, where I can enjoy hearing about their progress, births, engagements, triumphs; sadly their disappointments and heartaches in life too. It’s such a privilege to still be so close to them. On occasion they still message me, and comment on posts, which amazes me.

I am also able to still share with them something of my life, my music and also my faith, on social media.