Tonight's photo. Rainy morning - at around 9am Friday.I have been looking at a Welsh, "nostalgia" website that focuses on the history of the suburb where I was born.
There are photographs of my old infants and junior schools, the outsides of which surprisingly still look the same today as they did back in 1964.
Hopefully, many of the things that went on inside have forever changed. The alleged teachers were mainly miserable old spinsters and brave men with metal tips on the end of their school canes. Heroic men with little kids, but who soon went to water whenever someone capable of fighting back stood up to them.
Those schools taught me well. Do unto others as they would do unto you - but do it first and make sure the bastards don't get up again.
Teachers would not only turn a blind eye to bullying, they would join in. Often they would stand and watch schoolyard fights and even shout disparaging remarks at the ones who didnt meet their required standards of macho-ness.
God help any kid whose mum went to the school to complain about bullying. Not only would they cop it from the kids, but the teachers would be against them as well.
I found a very effective way to put an end to my being bullied - and I implemented it before the start of a maths lesson one morning.
In walked the school bully and as usual picked on me then turned to walk away.
This time however, I rose from my seat, walked a few steps and called out his name. He turned to answer and as he did so, I kicked him right in the balls. When he started to get up, I kicked him again. I may have been 8 years old but I was old enough to know not to give the bastard a chance.
Of course, it was me who got caned. After all he was the son of one of the school Governors.
That's another thing that school taught me.
Wherever you may be - be safe
