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It was with some trepidation that I agreed to
Neale’s request that I should add an appendix to his record of
education in this village of Ash. I have decided that
twenty-three years of teaching in a village school ‘clocks
up’ a long list of memories: some of which I will try to
record with some degree of accuracy. They will not be in
chronological order for certain, but the first memory I have is
certainly in the right place, namely the day of my interview and
appointment. This took place in February 1948. It was a very
cold day and Mr Vigo (the then Rector) wasted no time in
ushering me into the village hall where the temperature must
have been somewhat nearer that of the equator than that of the
usual English summer. Do you remember the big old heating stove
that stood just inside the Hall door? It was red-hot that day,
literally; it looked as if it might burst as a bomb at any
moment. I was frankly terrified. By the middle of the afternoon
it was snowing hard and by the time we got back to |
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Oxfordshire it was obvious that we were in
for a bad spell, which lasted for several weeks. However, spring
was on the way and by the time we moved into the School House at
the end of May, Ash was looking delightful.
Memory plays many strange tricks and I hope you
will bear with me if mine goes somewhat astray. My first term
was helped unstintingly along by Joan Barnes whose calm
unflappable nature saw me through all the difficulties one
experiences in this sort of situation. Of course we had ‘ups
and downs’, a change of headship in any school whatever its
size or situation inevitably brings changes of policy, which are
not always welcome. This is naturally taken for granted and
providing the difficulties are brought into the open and
discussed they can usually be solved. My concept of education is
that it should prepare children for life. In other words, |