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Bordesley Green Grammar Technical School

Rupert said:
...In those days it did give a great grounding in the sciences and many pupils I am sure used this as a basis for meaningful carreers. Seemingly in a world of receeding industry requirements, these schools would be a anomoly now.
Click to expand...

We need schools that teach science and rational thought more than ever. Bordesley Green TS and Mr Brown its headmaster were formative influences and I value every minute spent there.
 
When I went to school in Brum, 52/55 for HTS, when you started work an apprenticeship was served and day release was the rule to take HNC which was a reasonably high level at that time. Some did a course called Dip Tech. which was a higher level. In the UK admission to AMImech E was possible from there. If the UK has lost it's industry to Pacific Rim countries, particularly Brum my thoughts were that this level of knowledge was not required now to any large degree and that whatever is the current equivalent of the then City and Guilds certificate is sufficient for the service industries that are prevalent now. I guess that my thinking is influenced by the situation that is here in Canada. Technical colleges do not teach the science level of the old HNC. They mostly teach computer related processing techniques. The science part being of lesser importance here and mostly conducted in universities. I believe that jobs in the service industries are, or at least were, available in reasonable entry level quantity but those actually requireing an engineering degree are fewer now. The old HNC equivalency is completely squeezed out and has not been around for some time now. In fact the only time that it was around was when imigrants from the UK came here with it although India had similar educational regimen. Anyway, if industry is being created in Brum that needs this level of training, that's great.
 
Sparky. I know your post was some time back but #3 teacher is 'Nunky' Thompson who joined the school for the 1960/61 year, the final year of the old head' Mr Brown. I started there that year and he was my form teacher and one of several nutters at BGTS who would be arrested these days for assault!!!
 
Does _anyone_ remember 'Eggo's' real name? He was a very good English teacher and kept discipline in a gentle polite way without any aggression.
 
I was at BGTS from 1960 to 1963. I vividly remember "Nunky" and his form of punishment. He tried it on a lad named Whyborne, who dodged the slap, and was chased round the classroom by Nunky. We all had a good laugh, and all ended up with detention!
 
You may remember that Nunky had another nickname- "Isaiah"

I remember Whyborne. I think he eventually got the boot.
I saw him a few years later and I think he was working for the Post Office.

It's funny that everyone called each other by their surname, even your best mates.
I found it quite a culture shock when I moved to another school (mixed) where teachers and pupils called you by your first name.

Sparky
 
I attended Bordesley Green Technical School from 1955 to 1960. I have seen no mention of chemistry teacher "Jet"; Mr Morgan. We had recently had a physics lesson by Mr Gow telling us that what goes up must come down. In Jet's chemistry class we were being bored to death on the subject of valency when there was a knock on the door and Mr Brown entered. We were hushed by the thought that one of us was for the high jump. He whispered something to Jet and one of us was instructed to clean the roller board. As Jet filled it with calculus we realised that the subject was escape velocity for the sputnik which had just been launched. Jet triumphantly added QED, stood back and beamed at the headmaster with delight. Mr Brown asked a question in an undertone. Jet's manner underwent a dramatic change. With a voice full of thunder he shouted; "You stupid boy" and slashed a chalk mark across Mr Brown's suite. Stunned silence, would Jet get the sack? Mr Brown turned a strange colour, slowly rotated and made his exit. As the door latch clicked the room exploded with laughter. Does anyone else remember the incident?
 
Only had one or two science lessons from ‘Jet ‘ Morgan. He seemed fascinated, obsessed even, that Morley had weighed hydrogen “hydrogen is a devilish thing” and he found that “a litre of hydrogen weighs decimal nought eight grams”. He was a short fellow in a grey suit. Mercurial. Can see him now and hear the words rolling from his tongue. To have dared to challenge Mr Brown was unthinkable! Had not heard that story.
 
Yes "obsessed" is a good word for Morgan. He seemed very old and, and here I maybe having a OAP moment, I think he had been Mr H.B. Brown's teacher in an earlier life. This would explain the above story from Giff. I would loved to have seen that incident.
Jet taught the sixth form Physics for a while and it was usually intense and full of energy and enthusiasm. For an old guy he was full of vigour for Science. In a class of eight people there was no avoiding him.
 
jtcliff

I hope you don't mind me coming in on your thread but as a new member of the forum I have only just found you all.

I was at BGTS 1952-54. I was one of the second batch to stay on for a third year to do 'O' levels following two years of engineering. I remember the first batch comprised only 6 boys and when it came to our turn again they only wanted 6 but a mock examination resulted in all 12 staying on.

Reading the posts about the Brown & Bryant text book is surreal as I have a copy of Volume II sitting on my book shelf just above my head. I believe I have Volume I in the attic they have travelled quite a lot with me over the years. Left Birmingham in 1964 seen a bit of UK and quite a few countries arround the world working on water supply, irrigation and flood protection projects. All based on BGTS + HNC + Chartered status. Not possible these days. The practical approach of BGTS has served me well.

Have recently been contacted through friendsreunited by a boy of the same year and that is how I have found you. Any other older boys reading but not necessarily participating in the forum?
 
Hi Villaman
Nice to read your story. You must have been in the year ahead of me. Were you offered A sixth form and 'A' Levels? I can't remember if our year was the first or second to get the chance. I left in '59 at 18 years of age.
I have a copy of Brown and Bryant somewhere in a corner too. Couldn't throw it away somehow. Like you, I really got a lot out of the crazy place. I contacted three of my old class mates through this forum in the last twelve months. Two of those three have lived and worked overseas. However, I do not remember anybody from the year above, unfortunately.
You obviously had an interesting working life with all the travel. I eventually became a physics/maths teacher and worked in Africa and Malaysia for about twelve years before settling down. It would be very interesting to know where most of those early kids finished up. The teaching was very focused. . .do you remember Gilbert making us file a perfect one inch cube out of steel rod? And Caldicott's drawing classes. And Hughes' Maths classes. High standards everywhere you looked. And everyone knew where they stood compared to everyone else. It was not a place for delicate souls.
 
It is interesting to hear from people older than myself. We were told that the school was divided into "building" and "engineering" but from 1955 I saw no evidence of the split.
More memories of some of my teachers: The school policemen were Mr Grimmett and Mr Gilbert. I have a lasting memory of Killer prowling the corridors wearing yellow tinted glasses and wielding a lump hammer in his right hand. On arrival at the school we soon became aware that Killer was best avoided. The warning was dramatically re-enforced in my first term. At morning assembly nearly all the staff had left the stage in what was then the school hall, the Gym. Killer scowled towards the rear of the hall and then called a boy to stage. The youth swaggered up with an air of omnipotence. Killer chastised him for a crime I can't remember. The boys body language was altered when he was poked in the chest. With a snarl he swung a punch. Killer dodged and connected with one of his own. A feeble attempt at retaliation provoked a hay-maker from Killer and the lad went down. I think a final kick was administered. An impressive performance. Such an incident would be unthinkable today. I can't help thinking that the school policeman needs to be able to demonstrate where lines need to be drawn. I don't want to give the impression that I had a low regard for Killer. When in the sixth form some of us were allowed to use the metal workshop to enable our hobbies.
Mr Grimmett was a war hero. One of his maths lessons evolved to be a fascinating account of his flying dakotas over the hump. The hump being the eastern end of the Himalayas. Being in huge thunderstorms that risked ripping the wings of the heavily laden planes. Of those not strapped in being banged against the top of fuselage and then crashing onto the floor. He made it sound funny but such a thing could easily be fatal. He gave an insight into the attitudes of those people risking their lives in war. Eating in a mess in India his group looked up at the sound of an aircraft not making singing its normal song. Instead of lifting off the runway the spitfire screamed off the end into a fireball. Their meal continued without comment. It was later found that the life raft, stowed under the seat, had been activated which thrust the pilot forward against the stick, lifting the tail and preventing take off. No sympathy for the pilot who must have been a total wan*er. Grimmett's account ended with him describing a group of inebriated aircrew stumbling into an open drain. Emphasis on the smell and health risks. One of us asked: "Do you mean you were covered in ....". The last word was stifled but still distinct. Expecting a clip round the ear the boy was relieved to see Mr Grimmett smile and say "Yes". Such a memorable maths lesson enabled us to see Grimmett as a human being with a sense of humour. We saw Killer's sense of humour during one of our after school sessions. Mr Brown had asked him to mend the exhaust system on his long in the tooth Wolsely. The whole system was laid out on a couple of benches and was being encased in heavy gauge sheet steel. With a grin Killer predicted that the extra weight would increase the petrol consumption by ten mpg. "That'l teach the penny pincher not to waste my time again". (I have changed the actual phrase to conform to modern standards of polite correctness.) In our discussions on the subject of cars Killer described his experiences of being a riding mechanic at Brooklands. A terrifying experience in hurtling towards what appeared to be a vertical concrete wall. One one occasion I was honoured when asking advice on making a model steam engine flywheel. Killer took my blank to "his" lathe, A Dean Smith and Grace, and showed me how to achieve concentricity. We normally used one of a row of Boxfords. No comparison!
 
A great piece Griff,

I was a year ahead of you and definitely enrolled as an Engineer. But on arrival discovered no actual difference between Engineers and Builders. Interesting you were in the sixth form. How many guys in your class? (Incidentally, I was the school captain 58-59 and the name Griff sounds familiar)
Did you ever get to use the big old steam engine at the back of the metalwork shop? We did just once and we measured its thermodynamic efficiency or some-such thing. Very exciting!
I remember Gilbert's "special lathe" standing in splendid isolation. All the others were driven by leather belts from the ceiling. As you say . . . no comparison.
Interesting about Grimmet's war history. I had not heard that story. I was always really impressed at the amazing strength of personality of those teachers. Old Brown must have had a hard time keeping them in check.
 
My contacts with those a year above me was minimal. I think that it may have been Clifford who asked me to make the name plates for the upper and lower sixth form doors. (I suspect jtcliff might be in a position to know if my memory is accurate) He must have done some research into who might be able to manufacture things. The only other occasion that springs to mind was when in the lower sixth we played cricket against the upper. The game ground to a halt when they were all out for about ten runs in a quarter of an hour. We were all hopeless except for our star fast bowler, Norman Powell. They claimed we were cheating, I know not why. Norman played with a proper team at week ends. I had no pretensions in the sports department and spent matches chatting on the boundary. Cross country runs, what a misnomer. Sticking to the official route was pavement bashing. I once did a shortcut across some allotments which unfortunately led to an old chap who tried to stop us being knocked over. That may have been when I was in the fifth form. The only form of exercise I enjoyed at school was playing badminton after the new assembly hall had been built.
I can’t remember how many of us there were in the sixth form, it would have been about a dozen. We didn’t get to play with real steam engines. Our most distinctive member was John Ali, known as “Wol” or “Wal”, of Indian extraction, bumbling, overweight and much taller than the rest of us. His initial cause for being scorned was turning up on the first day of school wearing a flying carpet. Academically light years ahead of the rest of us. He always won the prize for English. Someone who satisfied Eggo that there was some point in teaching. Years after leaving the school I met him at the only re-union I ever went to. None of us recognized him at first because he had turned into a suave, elegant adult. He was a mathematician working for the West Midland Gas Board. Thinking of John brings on guilt and remorse. We were kicking our heels in the woodwork shop during a prolonged staff meeting. Someone had brought a magneto to school and demonstrated its effect on the human body. We looked for a victim for prolonged experiment. John was fastened to one of the woodwork benches with G cramps. His screams of agony were heard by the foreman in charge of the building of the new school hall. What felt like an iron fist clamped my neck, the other hand struck a substantial blow across the side of my head. John was released. We submitted to the prolonged justified criticism of the gimlet eyed builder. It was John who named me “Giff, which stuck throughout my time at school and beyond.
Mentioning school prizes reminds me about shaking hands with Sir George Edwards.The year before I had won the art and technical drawing prize, which were combined subjects as far as the prize was concerned. My prize was a book, the biography of Fangio. Mr Ellis, art, and Mr Caldicott, technical drawing, had persuaded the powers that be that the two subject didn’t both use all the same skills, which resulted in me winning both prizes separately the next year. Much more profitable. I chose a Stanley hand drill which I still have.. When collecting the prize Sir George asked me why I hadn’t chosen an electric drill. I replied that the prize money didn’t cover anything that sophisticated. He paused a moment then smiled saying that even a company like Vickers couldn’t always justify buying exactly the right tool for the job. My heart warmed towards him. It made me wonder about the strengths and weaknesses of the headmaster Mr Brown. Brown gave the whole school a pep talk about the impending visit of Sir George, mentioning that he had been one of his star pupils. That; “Sir George’s daughter can pilot an aircraft, something none of you could do“. This was said in a tone which I took to mean; or ever be likely to do. It brought to mind being at Castle Bromwich when an air display had just finished and flights were being offered to the public in Dragon Rapides at ten shillings a go. To yours truly at about thirteen years old that much money was out of the question. In any case I knew that it wouldn’t mean real flying, only holding the joystick for a few seconds. I felt like telling Mr Brown that if my dad was the chairman of a firm like Vickers I bet I would be able to fly at the earliest opportunity.
In my innocence it didn’t occur to me to take into account the fact that Mr Brown was an old man close to retirement, looking back on times when he had more zap. Association with Sir George was probably looked upon with pride, having helped to push forward technological change via his teaching. Most teachers will go through their career not knowing if they have changed the world for the better. Several times during assembly Mr Brown grieved that the best were lost, referring to his experiences as a gunnery officer during the first world war. It wouldn’t be surprising that he would sometimes despair of any of his eleven plus failures ever being any good. When he announced that the school was going to accept kids at eleven it was with the air of someone who expected to do great things instead of being lumbered with the likes of us.
When in the lower sixth my opinion of Mr Brown went from being mildly critical to severely prejudiced. A boy entered my maths lesson with a message that Mr Brown wanted me in his office immediately. I was berated with bringing down the good name of the school. Of disrespect to my elders and betters. I said I had no idea of what he was talking about. The fact that I was prepared to argue caused Mr Jones, the deputy head, to be called for. Mr Jones explained that a teacher from another school, a friend of Mr Lunn, had laid a complaint that I had used foul language and threatened violence the day before. I don’t know why Mr Brown hadn’t said that in the first place. I explained that on the way home from school on my bike I had been overtaken by a van on a fast downhill stretch of road whereupon the van had braked and pulled into the kerb, trapping me between it and the van.. I was more than a little annoyed at nearly being killed. Mr Brown asked me to repeat the words I used. He flinched at my reply. I was told that I was in serious trouble. “Wait outside while I confer with Mr Jones”. After a few minutes I was invited back into the office to be told that resolution might be possible if I gave a full apology to the offended party. I flatly refused and added that I might be prepared to accept an apology from him. Instant expulsion. At home I explained what had happened to my parents. The phone line hummed. The next day a telegram came from somewhere in the education establishment instructing me to return to school. Mr Brown casually stopped me in the corridor and in an undertone suggested we all forget about what had happened. That was it. An anticlimax I have not forgotten. I am left with the thought that if Mr Brown considered himself to be in the right there should have been a proper battle. Perhaps he was a tired old man.
His intention or not, Mr Brown was responsible for giving a good education to someone who failed the first part of the eleven plus. The exam designed to weed out the no-hopers. I often wonder how I would have turned out if the certainty of being “thick” had stuck. It was one of the maths teachers who said: “Whatever else you do, learn to excel at something. Anything will do even being the best at tiddlywinks”. Bordesley Green enabled me to substantially raise my self esteem. I am thankful. What about the no-hopers of today?
 
Hey Griff
I remember John Ali. As soon as I read his name I could visualize him. A big beefy guy with a very friendly personality.
Your Sir George memories stirred reminded me too. He asked me, on the stage, what my plans were. Of course, I had no plans and I told him so. I was told to get a plan immediately. I never did. Incidentally, I still have the books from that prize giving.
 
Jim Brennan and I journeyed to school on our bikes. I remember that he arrived at school one morning looking ill. He explained that he had ridden past an horrific road accident on the “Covo“, the Coventry Road. The details were obviously branded permanently and deeply in his consciousness. A cyclist had ridden into the path of a lorry at the Wheatsheaf junction. Body parts were trapped between the double back tyres. Skin was smeared on the road as the wheels locked. The metal mudguards had planed chunks of flesh whilst the wheels still rotated. Blood and intestines and chunks of flesh were littered about. It is a small world. A few years later my younger brother had taken a holiday job as a truck driver and had met the lorry driver in question working in the firm’s offices. The story from the drivers point of view came out. The poor chap hadn’t driven a lorry since the accident and intended never to do so again. Many years later I found that my brother in law was a friend of the dead boy. They had been riding together and had stopped to adjust his brakes. The adjustment must have failed, resulting in him not being able to stop at the junction.
Jim and I rode together on several epic rides. Birmingham-Shrewsbury-Ludlow-Clee Hill-Birmingham. Oulton Park to watch the motor racing. Jim having Irish genes was something of a story teller, perhaps a profound exaggerator. I remember once I noted down the times he claimed to have put up biking from Warwick to Yardley, checked the distance on the O.S. map and advised him to put himself up for the Olympic games. If what he claimed was true he would have swept the board.
Bike riding could be dangerous. We had been to his house in Yardley for some reason during the lunch period and were returning in the rain. Hurrying so as not to be late back in school we took the opportunity to slipstream a lorry. We were riding side by side within a few inches of the tailboard when the lorry braked sharply. As I swerved slightly and shot between the side of lorry and the parked vehicles I caught a glimpse of Jim going up in the air. I had stopped by the time I reached the lorry cab. The lorry revved up and drove on oblivious of us. The road was empty. Jim had entered the fourth dimension? I heard a squeaking sound coming from underneath a parked van. I squatted down and helped to extricate him from rusty exhaust brackets. Miraculously Jim and his new bike were still intact. He had put his right hand out to fend off the tail board which caused him and the bike to rear up and then crash down whilst the lorry was still decelerating. He went under the differential and then on to end up under the van.
Many people will probably remember dense fogs. We were allowed home early one afternoon when there was a particularly severe one. Cars and buses had all ground to a halt. Some had been abandoned. People were having trouble finding their way even when walking. After nearly mowing down pedestrians I had to reconcile myself to pushing my bike the three miles home.
I seem to remember that in about 1959 Jim Brennan played hockey against a team made up of our teachers. He failed to turn up the next day and there were vague tales of an accident during the game. When he did return to school he told us that one of his eyes had been knocked out, dangling on the optic nerve. I think the offending teacher’s name was Stan. Still. The hospital tidied up the eyeball and put it back in but it never worked quite as normal thereafter. The incident confirmed my reservations on the subject of team games.
 
Smallheathan (good place, near to God's own country, St Andrews - if only!)

I was at BGTS from mid/late 50s til mid 60s. If you go to Friends Reunited and put in the full name, Bordesley Green Technical School you should find it. There's loads of people on it.
 
Thanks David,
Found it,I finished at Bgt in Dec 55.
Re St Andrews we used to walk to see the blues and get the inner circle 8 to see Villa.
Where I lived was Swanage Rd/Charles Rd which was th site of the original Small Heath athletic[Later Blues] ground.
I like to tell Liverpool fans about Dec 54 Blues 9 Liverpool 1.the next week Blues went to Bolton and won 7-2 Gil Merrick et al.
I'm interested in swapping stories about old Small heath,Coventry Rd. etc.Does anyone remember"sash cord Ken?"etc etc
Regards Bob Williams
 
I went to BGTS from 1958 until 1963. I think I was in the 2nd or 3rd 11+ intake. I hated every single minute of every single day I was there. however, there were some great teachers.

Mr. Goodfellow took over from Mr. Brown as headmaster. He was a decent man who tried very hard to improve the image of the school. One of his first edicts was to ban exit from the school during lunch time unless you had a "note from your mother" - which I duly had - anything to get me away from school for an hour! The tuck shop adjacent to the scool still carried on business through the railings.

As a bit of a swat I got on well with the teaching staff except for the PE teachers. Not being a sporty type my PE teachers didn't like me. There was Mr. Still (not an apt name for a PE teacher) who was a not very covert communist and Mr. Dunn(?) who invested in a new pair of false teeth which caused hime to whistle when he spoke.

My best subject was French - Mr, Burditt, Mr. Cole, who was only marginally older than the pupils - but I can't remember who the 3rd one was(Mr. Burbidge?)

I think our woodwork teacher was Mr. Heaton and of course Killer wwas our metalwork teacher. I remember his arrival each morning in his Sunbeam sports car at great speed with pupils running from his path.

Our maths teacher was an ex NCO - very sarcastic - very humorous and a superb teacher.

One of my most enduring memories was the yearly exodus of the entire school on a dozen buses to Perry Barr to watch an inter-school athletics competition. You could "escape" by going through a hole in the fence. This event was finally terminated when one year as soon as we arrived almost the whole school escaped through this hole.

Our form teacher was Mr. Wild - Mr. Ellis's opposite number - but he didn't have the panache of Mr. Ellis.

I think it was a big mistake being trained in engineering - in this country you are far better of being a media consultant!!!

Paul
 
I have removed this post...I suppose that it was meant to indicate indignation and it seems to have achieved that. Anyway after messaging Paul and reviewing the post below it seems to be a matter of different experiences. I never realised that BGTS was so much below the experience that I had at HTS. Perhaps it was worth the long journey every day.
 
coerl21. The PE teacher who was running-in a set of false teeth was Mr Lunn. He wore a white coat and looked more like an ice-cream seller. He certainly couldn't run, his legs worked as poorly as his teeth.
The third French teacher was Mr Burbridge who joined in 1960. What an ***hole he was. He liked to hit as many people in a day as possible to stave off the effects of his chain smoking. He was a first class bully like several other teachers at BGTS. Today the prisons would have a special wing for them!!!
As for Rupert's comments about you, sounds like a sarcastic teacher who threw things at pupils who couldn't keep up with their master's inability to teach all abilities.
As one who scraped into BGTS by the skin of my teeth (according to a then soon-to-be-retired headmaster Mr Brown), I thought the standard of teaching was ill-equipped to deal with the likes of me, so they didn't, and I was well and truly left behind in several subjects. No encouragement only constant criticism.
And to show you how much I resented the teaching standards, I once took an exam and got 2% after our change of teacher came in and told us to learn the first three chapters of a new text book because we'd be examined on it, in two weeks I think it was. The subject was metalwork and you guessed it, 'Killer' was the teacher. He called that teaching? Who the hell did he think he was? Needless to say I dropped the subject as soon as I could.
 
My understanding is that BGTS was an experimental school so there was a drive to succeed - which may have resulted in bullying by some of the teaching staff - or maybe they just enjoyed it!

I remember Mr. Owen our English teacher and head of the lower school giving us an envelope to address to our parents. He showed us an example. When we completed the exercise he went around the class hitting pupils who had not put the address in EXACTLY the same position on their envelopes. That is one way of teaching. Or he could have just explained where to put it before we started.

We did have a really nice history teacher. He was probably in his early twenties. Because of the selection of subjects he ended up teaching just 6 of us in the medical room. He used to take us into town to the Midland Institute - and then to the pub. As we were only 15 that was a real treat! But he treated us as adults and not conscripts!

One of my work mates went to Saltley Grammar and his experiences were completely different to mine - wish I'd gone there!!


Paul
 
I fully concur with the negative comments made about BGTS. I was there between 57 and 62. My best day was the day I left. There was an endemic culture of teacher-to-student violence throughout the teaching staff, with few noticeable exceptions. This way of life filtered down to the students with the result that bullying became the normal behaviour. I don’t know if you remember Mr [Jim] Dale the Maths teacher. His favourite trick, apart from throwing chalk and blackboard rubbers at you, was to bounce the edge of a twelve-inch ruler on your head until you came up with the correct answer. Good teachers were a rarity. Those that come to mind are Mr Sandford (Tech Drawing), Mr Jones (English), Mr Cole (French), ‘Sid’ (Geography), Mr [Gladys] Morgan, Mr Whitehouse (Maths). Plus a very few others whose names I do not recall. As with a previous comment, I have since found out that this type of behaviour was not present at other schools. I wonder how many futures were ruined and imaginations suppressed as a result of this subjugation by the teaching staff. Did they genuinely believe that they were doing a good job.
 
Hi Boobbygee

That's a vary good question. My primary school was St. Saviours in Alum Rock. Very rew pupils passed the 11+, but my friend and I both passed and coincidently chose BGTS.

Instead of keeping us together we were put in different forms. (which wouldn't happen these days). Within days I hated it and tried, unsuccessfully to leave. Unbeknown to me my friend was feeling the same and was truanting. I believe he did manage to leave. I found it so stressful that I was frequently ill. In fact it contributed to my long term health problems.

You would think that the powers that be would have questioned the ethos and environment of the school. But you are so right if I had gone to a different school I think my whole life would have been different!
 
Gosh! I am so sorry. My experience at HTS was quite the opposite. All of the teachers were good and some if not most were quite exceptional. All of my friends there found this to be the case. Sure there was the odd teacher there who was a little strict but none any more than that. I am talking about a time period 52-55 here. The problem for the whole class was one bullying student who hardly ever turned up but on the occasions when he did caused much sorrow. I found the jump from Secondary Modern to this routine was quite a step but I made friends with a couple of boys who were good and they helped me to make the grade. We all went on to a third year and GCE-O level and some on to university. It took dedication though.
 
I was at H T S at the same time as you Rupert and I can verify your post. I dont remember any teacher who was an out and out bully and any punishment was , as far as I can remember fair. I also had a friend who went to BGTC at the same time I never heard him complain about teachers.
 
About half my junior school class passed the 11+ exam but luckily for them, nobody chose BGTS. So when I started at my third choice school, I knew no one. I had to take two buses to get there and I regret passing that bloody exam! I wish I'd gone to the local secondary modern just a short walk from my home.

The bully teachers that spring to mind are Brian Burbidge (French) made each victim lean over a heavy desk then with the largest plimsol he could borrow proceeded to pound the boys backside with right arm swings from the highest point above his head. Actual bodily harm? I think so.

The German teacher Pischler (PE) found a friend of mine had some dirt on his ankle in the gym and cleaned it off with sandpaper!!! I kid you not. I, and most of the class, witnessed it. He was reported for that. ABH? you bet!

In one of the rare classes I had with Killer in charge he threw a hammer some 15 feet at a boy who wasn't being attentive. Had it struck the lad he could have been killed. Is all of this teaching or gratuitous violence?

And the bullying wasn't just physical. The useless PE teacher Lunn would often pick on one boy in particular because the lad was pigeon-toed. Lunn critised him with sarcastic comments in front of the whole class blaming the lad for the way he was.

These are just a few examples of the everyday situation that existed at the school, I know I witnessed them. In those days there was nobody to turn to, even parents thought the school teacher could do as they pleased. And of course nothing aids a bully more than the confidence he can get away with it.

Yes there were a few good teachers but these were more than overshadowed by all the bad ones. My parents were so frustrated with my lack of enthusiasm for the school and poor showing they used their rights to pull me out at 15. What a start in life that was suddenly being told five weeks into the summer holidays that I'd left school and had to get a job.

Sadly, I never forgave my parents for their actions and since I've had time on my hands to analyse the past in detail, I'll never forgive that school either. Happily teaching standards have changed but unfortunately the violence is now against teachers. I wonder how that came about!
 
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