To complicate my sudden lack of literary confidence, I am going to take a trek back into my past very soon, to my old primary school in NZ where so many good and a few terrible things happened to me. In a couple of weeks there will be a reunion there, on the site, which is in a short time due to be demolished to make way for a highway by-pass and tunnel.
It is a painful and daunting process, just considering if and how I might write about this event. I feel a whole range of emotions, from fearful to elated, and the recollections render me tearful and nostalgic in brief bursts. I'm sure as the reunion draws closer, it will get more intense and become all encompassing.
Writing about it is something I know I MUST do and cannot avoid, as much as I would like to.
Firstly I want to document a couple of events that happened to me there, good ones, ones I want to share with the Heritage Project site that has been set up to archive and share such things.
And I also want to background this blog a little, share some of who I am and where I've come from- it will save me having to continually dip into and retrieve out of the swamp some of my story.
I know I'm being hugely dramatic here- it is really only me that experiences the uncomfortable twisted knots of emotion when discussing my childhood, and I'm sure it doesn't read as sordidly as all that...there were some very bright moments in my childhood, and a couple of them involved Waterview Primary School, for which I am incredibly grateful...
1st day of school, 1970, Me, (brother) Marcus, Christine and Lizzie Burke
We had a very tight-knit group; right from the early days I was there in a split grade in Primer 3/4 with a few kids in the older group. I can see some of those kids in my mind's eye, right now. A vivid memory was on my very first day, when the teacher left the room for a moment and a very cheeky handsome boy called Gordon Brown pegged Ngamatua Cook's pigtails to the rope that we strung our artworks on. She was very distressed; although we felt sorry for her we laughed, and I think there was subsequently quite a quite a bit of trouble for Gordon that day as everyone hung him out to dry when the teacher came back...
I also remember that later on though, Gordon Brown stuck up for me in the playground, when I was being picked on by bigger kids, and I think he might have at that moment become my very first 'crush'!
That's me, 2nd from the left on the bottom row, between Deirdre Lyons and Helen Deason. There's Ngamatua, 2nd from left on the 3rd row. And there's Gordon Brown, 3rd from the right, 2nd row. Mrs Morgan was our teacher that year.
In Standard 1 our teacher the lovely Miss Grover became Mrs Lynch one weekend, and a few of us went to watch her arrive at her wedding in New Lynn in a fairy tail style horse drawn coach.
Mrs Lynch is on the right- wasn't she a fashion plate? We girls adored her. That's me top 2nd from left, between Kevan Bartlett and Cherie Final
Miss Deborah Tingly, in Standard 2, introduced us to the wonderful world of JRR Tolkein, and my love for all things 'Hobbity' since then has endured, and I've passed it down to my own children. Miss Tingly drove a mustard coloured VW with words 'SauerKraut' swirled on its door. She was extremely pretty and young. She also taught us Cat Stevens songs, which I was getting a double dose of, at home with mum. She was probably the coolest teacher anyone could have hoped for, and her encouragement to me in that year that I turned 8 was extremely significant.
Standard 3 saw our class enter a prolonged and unsettling phase as teachers came and went, including the enigmatic Welshman, Mr Booth, who was hilarious fun unless you got him angry, and the boys often did. Mrs Apted had us for a time, and although I had always been a bit scared of her, she was one of the best teachers I can remember- a pity we didn't get her for a full year.
Then came Standard 4 and it was again quite tumultuous, as far as having a permanent teacher was concerned.
At least we were fortunate enough to have Mr Steve Bartley for some of the time.
It was during this couple of terms that I recollect some of my happiest times at Waterview.
As senior students we required to clean up the staffroom on a rostered basis, doing the dishes and wiping the tables. I remember going up there to do it; the smell and the atmosphere of the room, and loving that opportunity look out of that window where the teachers no doubt often looked down on us playing from above.
Another thing I loved to do at school was sing in the choir, and have the opportunity to perform at the combined schools choir in the Auckland Town Hall, in front of hundreds of people, accompanied by the massive pipe organ. Mrs Trevetta and Mrs Marsh taught us painstakingly to sing really technical pieces which came together incredibly when all 600 children from various schools around Auckland sang as a combined choir. This experience was just awesome to a kid of nine or ten such as I was then. My brother was involved too, he had a beautiful boy's soprano in those days, and I'm sure he would hate me sharing it.
One day Mr Bartley told me he had something very important he had to tell me after school. It seemed to me that I must have done something very bad, and was in trouble. I was nervous all day, waiting for the bell to go and everyone to disappear. Finally the moment arrived, but Mr Bartley called me out of the room just before the bell, so everyone in the class would have seen me go out, compounding my sense of terror about what was to come.
He leaned on the door frame with a twinkle in his eye and said something like "now you're in trouble!" just to make me feel even worse.
But he then told me, or did he ask me? that he wanted me to present a farewell speech and gifts from the school to our principal, Mr Taylor, at a special assembly. I was stunned to be asked, it felt like SUCH a huge honour. Mr Taylor was about to go on a world cruise with his wife to kick off his retirement, and so the school had bought him a set of matching luggage.
Needless to say, in spite of my feeling pretty unworthy, it turned out that I was just the person for the job- and took on the task very seriously, writing myself a lovely little speech which I practiced about 50 times in front of the mirror that week.
I had a special outfit to wear, a very fashionable vinyl pinafore with a skinny-ribbed jumper underneath, complete with my blue lace-up leather shoes.
The day for the assembly arrived, and behind all the excitement was a definite feeling of sadness too, as I was pretty fond of Mr Taylor as a principal and didn't really like that he was leaving.
I really don't remember much about that assembly, let alone what I said in my speech, all I know is that it was well received.
I do however, remember that Mr Taylor responded with firstly commenting that he had seen me in my vinyl dress and the suitcases, which happened to match perfectly, and decided that I was off on a big trip! Perfect words to say to me to make me laugh and loosen up- and I at least haven't forgotten that bit.
That was a great moment in my primary school life; a time that had had its share of ups and downs. I suppose academically I had found everything at school pretty easy, but socially and emotionally I hadn't found it as easy as it obviously was for some. Life at home was pretty difficult and this was sometimes reflected in the way I interacted at school, in that I was pretty insecure.
It was lovely to get that validation and approval from the teachers and staff at a pivotal time in my life, and I'm sure it has reminded me to believe in myself enough to continue to strive for success as an adult.
I have plenty of other good stories about Waterview Primary, in fact, at this moment they are ALL I can remember. Mostly though, I remember those children I spent so much time with, and how they affected me then. They are still so vividly present in my memories and I can see each one, hear their voices, remember their idiosyncrasies, even their handwriting in some cases! I wonder what they are doing now? I do know what a few of them are doing... but what about Gordon Brown?
