New Identity - High School Student

Some of the biggest turning points in my life were about to unfold. High school! Wow! I was going to be a new me….no more insecurities. I was now working all summer and every Saturday and earning my own money! What I was about to learn scholastically would change my life! Of this I was certain. Sooooo very certain….I merrily sailed along on a high, oblivious to any stumbling blocks!

The first of the stumbling blocks was my selected course of studies. Grade eight teachers, high school counselors, every one talked to my parents to enroll me in the academic strain with thoughts of further education after high school. My parents could not see their way clear to endorse this avenue financially. Scholarships were very limited then and financially they saw no future for me in academic studies. . So commercial course it was; this would allow me to procure a valued position. Gone were my aspirations of becoming a lawyer or archaeologist, but that was all right too!

I knew from the get-go that artist was out and never approached but once. After all artists lived, heavens knew where in California, went barefoot and rattled tambourines on street corners while begging! Weren’t they called ‘beatnicks’? Such was the view of producing artists. Art; actually ‘painting’ was for little old ladies once they became grandmothers!

I could hardly contain myself and was so anxious to go shopping with my earned money. The day came when mom and I went shopping for my new high school wardrobe. It took some convincing but she finally agreed to allow me to wear the new straight style skirts with a ‘kick pleat’ at the back….and the new ‘bat wing’ style tops. The sleeves really did look like bat wings , the fabric cut like a kite. Looking back, they were truly ugly but oh so fashionable.And shopping for school supplies! How exciting. Buying papers, rulers, pens, inks….and a bright red, real crocodile leather binder. Zippered round with pockets inside. I was ready! Couldn’t wait!

I still had to wear my regular laced oxford shoes. The new ‘wedge shaped heels were definitely out. But that was fine; it really was a long walk to school….more like a quick run at half an hour.

My friend’s father drove us to school the first morning of our exciting journey. So many students in one school; we were overwhelmed and somewhat intimidated by so many new faces. We found our home room and sat with joy and trepidation waiting for teacher and first assembly. And, discovered much to our chagrin….school was still school with rules of conduct and decorum diligently imposed. A bit of a knock to the wind in our sails; but alright, nothing we couldn’t live with.

Teachers still stood outside home rooms at first bell and between classroom changes; conducting hallway traffic. Orderly, single file, down right hand side of hallways; no walking in centre of halls. We discovered gender segregation ….. very much to our disappointment. Commercial courses were strictly female….technical were strictly male…..and never the twain should meet. Commercial hall…..was at this end…..tech hall……way, way, way down at the other end of the school. Academic studies were in the middle and were mixed gender. Doesn’t something sound out of whack here?

Finally we met our principal and vice-principal in first year school assembly. One definitely did not want to meet either personally. We were informed of more ‘rules’. For instance any ‘boy’ (because girls were not expected to do this) caught smoking…..across the road from the school; INSIDE the pharmacy soda bar would be expelled from school, no questions asked, for a week. Any girl caught lolling about the pharmacy would be up on reproach and parents would be called in. Lateness to any class would result in detention….and on it went.

Still we were undaunted. It was the beginning of the first day of the rest of our lives! We were still star struck!

Blog about this painting can be found:-Copper Daze

Senior Public or Middle School

Finally! Made it! Moving to a new school and complete new curriculum. I couldn’t wait. Grades 7 and 8 were definitely turning points in my life for more reasons than one.

We were introduced to a class rotation system with a different teacher for each subject; this was a new venture for the education system in our town. Our calendar included fourteen subjects….chemistry, natural science, science, French, literature, grammar, music! And on the list continued. Students came from all the public schools in town, into one melting pot.

Two years of discovery!  Academically they were good years, very exciting subjects; with one fly in the ointment. English history used to put me to sleep….literally I would nod off to be awakened by a ruler being snapped next to my dozing brain. The teacher called me ‘lazy’ in front of the whole class! Well, I’d just show her…..I earned a 100%+ as a final grade in the subject.

Grade 7 was my first introduction to a black person. We had never, ever seen a black person in our town and rarely in movies. Remember television had not reached our neck of the woods yet. He was Oxford educated and a very fine looking gentleman. The entire school population loved the man, he was an excellent educator and a judicious person!  It was also my introduction to young girls and young boys growing up and becoming aware of one another....first crushes, girls flirting, boys strutting!  No one strutted by me....except for Eugene!

A turning point in social status.  One's position, one's acceptance became important and in this regard I was a social failure. More siblings at home and money harder to stretch. I wore a hand-me-down coat from one of mother’s friends…..a coat purchased in wartime England- warm and tweedy! Nothing wrong with a warm and tweedy coat, right! Wrong!   I wore dated clothing, none of the 'new' fashions...wore what fit....refused to wear hand-me-downs so always wore the same clothes.  I felt such a wretch and would time my arrival at the final bell so no one could see my coat!  Definitely an outcast; was not allowed to wear lipgloss like some of the girls, was not allowed to attend parties, not that I was invited. And Eugene! Oh dear, Eugene!. He became my shadow, he always made sure he sat next to me in class, would meet me on the way to and from school. This was so annoying because he was as much a social outcast as I …. Worse in fact, extremely overweight, foggy glasses and a runny nose. But then, I had a runny nose also….we must have both been a sight to avoid!  I refused to brush my hair…hoping to dissuade Eugene but he remained a constant  I would run knowing he could not keep up,…he remained a shadow....I was rude....he remained!  Wonder whatever happened to Eugene!

Everyone was treated equally throughout the two school years; no favourites because of family  influence or position in town, right up to and including grade 8 graduation. All girls made blue skirts, cut from the same bolt of cloth in sewing class. These were worn with white blouses for graduation exercises; the boys wore best trousers and white shirts….and we felt equal and proud! No parties, no dances, no limousines such as we see today for grade 8 graduations today. Just parents in attendance, tea, coffee and home baked goodies!

Another change took place in my life - I decided I could do something about my coat and threatened to leave home if my parents would not allow me to get a job and earn my own money. An elder in our church had the solution telling mother a few days tagging articles in the basement of the retail Metropolitan Stores would make me thankful to be home and not working. Mother had to sign a paper allowing me to work because I wasn’t quite 14 at the time. Loved the job and stayed part time until I left school in high school.

The photo with this blog is of my in Grade 7, I had cut my waist length hair and refused to brush it....ever!
Lots of memories from this period!