Wednesday, 28 August 2024

A school photo that's got me thinking

 




I was recently sent this photograph by my former history teacher at Cwmcarn Comprehensive School, “Mr Jones”. He’s not sure when it was taken but having shared it on Facebook, with a  group of former students, the feeling is that it might be from June 1979. If so, I was aged 15. I’d be 16 the following October. Several of us in the photo are wearing small yellow badges signifying we’d just been made Prefects. You can’t see my badge  but mine says that I’m Head Boy.

By the way, I’m the one in the middle with the rather strange side parting. (Was I hoping this might develop into a haircut that would later be adopted by 1980s synth pop band a Flock of Seagulls? Or possibly Phil Oakey from Human League? There’s no other explanation for it.)

I recalled most of the names in the photo and Facebook has filled in the blanks. Not everyone in the photo is a prefect and we aren’t all in the same form group – 4R. But most in the photo are from 4R. (The tutor group I’d been with since my second year at secondary school.) Mr Jones was our form tutor at the time.

Through social media I’m in touch with many of the people in this photo but there are some that I’ve lost contact with. Particularly two of the “girls” who were in 4R. (The dark haired girl seated who was Head Girl – note the shield badge -  and the girl on the right behind the then on trend Adidas sports bag.) Some in the photo I’ve met in person  over the years at school reunions, and one took the trouble to come and see me when I was ill; an act of kindness I’ve not forgotten. 

One of the “girls” – “Debbie” - purposely doesn’t do social media but we’ve kept in touch for over 40 years through old fashioned letters and phone calls.  She’s seated at the front.

It is a friendship which means neither of us will speak or be in touch with the other for months, then out of the blue Debbie might send me a card or a letter or vice a versa. Or we might end up having an hour long chat on the phone. 



I don’t usually keep cards and letters but I do have one Debbie sent I think a couple of years ago. Inside the card is a message “So blessed you’re in my life”. And Debbie had written “This card struck me as perfect as you must know how much I value your friendship … my only entire  life thread connection that extends right back to our 12 year old selves. I know you’re in touch with many but you are my only contact from then. I find it very comforting”. Very humbling.

Back to the photo. Looking at it has made me think back.

I expect you’ve come across the idea, perhaps in a newspaper column “What would you say to your younger self”. I’ve been thinking about that, looking at this photo. I know my younger self would be surprised that he’s now a Superintendent Methodist minister. My younger self had dreams of becoming a lawyer. He just about scraped through enough “O” levels and “A” levels to get to further education and get a law degree. After that the wheels came off the legal dream.

I’d certainly tell him that just because they’ve made you Head Boy doesn’t mean you can’t study hard! (See the previous paragraph.) Likewise I’d tell him “Yes you do go to chapel on a Sunday, and you do help with Sunday school, l but that doesn’t mean they will gift you your “O” level RE.” (Yes, the irony that I am a Methodist minister with a degree in theology who failed his “O” level RE.)  I’d definitely say to him (or probably the 14 year old about to select O level options) “If you want to study geology instead of Latin do it. Study the things that interest you. Not the things others tell you you ought to study. ”

I know the 15 year old had a crush on several of the girls in the photo (and others not there) but despite his seemingly out going confident exterior he was always shy underneath and never had the nerve to ask a girl out on a date. Would I tell him to “go for it”? Maybe. Then again, the 18 year old in sixth form and the 21 year old at university  was much the same, apart from somehow getting the courage to ask out the woman who is now my wife.

Thanks for the memories Mr Jones.

 

 





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