Art became a big part of my life, I felt I could really express myself through it. What with that, and the headway I was making in Drama, I felt I'd gone to a new level.
I became so much happier with myself.
For once in my life, I liked myself. And more astonishingly of all, I actually had a good crowd of friends. Loyal ones, unlike Evelyn, who had got herself a glamorous sixth former, and every lead part going.
They just asked me up the disco during one maths lesson. I knew if I persevered, I would get more friends eventually. I treasured them all, having known what it was like without them.
I also became a right culture vulture. It was a lovely time of my life.
However, there are bete noirs wherever you go, and my art teacher, Mrs
Mare, was one of them
Right grumpy northerner, she was. Only not to the boys, she ignored me and Jane, and just sat with them and chatted. All they did was copy Kung Fu cartoons, it was the girls who were more creative.
She wore her dresses and skirts much too high. Very unfashionable for the mid-seventies.
This was how she was at the school disco. I know! I know!
But some teachers really did think they were it.
They had so much power in those days.
Once, she gave me such a hard time for being called out to do part of my drama CSE exam. I wouldn't mind, but Mrs Bastard had summoned me!
I'll never forget my pal, Jane, standing up and having a go at Mrs Mare for that.
Telling her she knew full well boys skived off art lessons, and that I had never
Strange as it may seem now, you never answered back a teacher like that.
Did the old cow good.
To add insult to injury, my art spring term report was dreadful! To give me a stinking report like that, when I'd worked so hard! I should have complained, I really regret that now. But as I said, things were different then. I know now if one of my kids got a report like that, I'd have been up that school! It's not always favoured towards teachers now. Sadly, it was then, and no-one would have taken me seriously.
It crushed me dreadfully, and I shed tears during Geography that afternoon.
I felt 2 inches tall!
Mrs Bastard and Mrs Mare used to park their broomsticks, and blatantly moan about me while I was in the same room working.
At least Mrs Bastard gave me a more favourable report. Actually acknowledged how far I had come.
But their lack of regard for a vulnerable person's self-esteem was unforgivable. Especially when they were trying their best!
Will our heroine overcome such adversity?!
The final part continues of this bitter-sweet memoir very soon.
Do not touch that dial!!