It's fifty years since I left school after taking A-Levels. It seems like yesterday, so how can it be fifty years? My school, at the time I was there, was an Inner London grammar school. It has changed over the years since - first to a Comprehensive, then a Technology College and currently is an Academy. I struggle to understand what this means in real terms, but am comforted to see the history of the place and the ethos is basically the same. A few buildings have been added on, but the Old Victorian ediface I knew is still the hub. One of our "Old Girls" is the newsreader and TV presenter Fiona Bruce.
Every summer, there are Old Girls reunions. I have only ever been to one. That was about 25 years ago when I dragged a 3-year-old Kay along with me for moral support. The date chosen for the reunions (always the middle Saturday in July) usually clashes with Kay's birthday, so I am never able to go. Not that I probably would anyway, as I am half frightened to meet up with old rivals and maybe see they are more successful in their lives. A lot of my very close friends live in other countries or at vast distances in this one, so I would not really meet up with anyone I wanted to spend time with, assuming anyone from my year group was even there.
But this year seemed different. Kay was celebrating her birthday on the next day for a start and this year was the fiftieth anniversary of leaving school so I thought an immense effort on my part was needed. I couldn't let fifty years go by without celebrating. So go I must. But what to wear? First impressions are so important, particularly after fifty years. I tried on dozens of outfits from my wardrobe until I was a fraction happy with what I chose. I have never wanted to have a flash car, but suddenly my 20-year-old Micra wouldn't fit the bill, so I decided to take the bus there - in London that is sensible anyway, as parking and traffic can be a nightmare and I wanted to arrive as cool as a cucumber.
With dry mouth and pounding heart I approached the oh so familiar building I had spent seven teenage years in remembering like yesterday the sweat of exams, the hatred of hockey and the heartache of teenage boyfriends. Within two minutes of arriving, I was approached by someone who looked vaguely familiar and, staring at my name badge, she announced who she was. Yes, indeed, someone from my old class. Amazingly, we got on like a house on fire and chatted non-stop for a couple of hours reliving the past fifty years and what we had each done with our lives. It was like we had never been apart, we got on so well, we swapped emails and promised to stay in touch. If only we'd had the internet and facebook in our day, it would have been easier to stay in touch!
Having had a rather difficult tooth extracted a week ago and still in some degree of pain, I managed to negotiate my first true solid food in the form of crustless sandwiches, scones, cream and jam and a fruit meringue with lashings of tea in china cups and saucers, all without it dribbling down my face. I wandered corridors and peeped into classrooms, retracing my steps as an 11-year-old entering the school and as an 18-year-old saying goodbye to our much coveted sixth form attic rooms, the "cool" place to be. All in all a very satisfying visit to my old school and to quote a line from the cartoon Chicken Run "All my life flashed before my eyes". But it was most definitely not "very boring".
3 comments:
My man had some bad times with guys in high school and he still holds very strong grudges. I try to remind him that we are all kind of idiots in high school and to give them a break, reminding him that bullies are usually bullies for a reason. But one particular guy he especially hated "friended" him on FaceBook and has no memory of anything bad happening between them. He chats him up like they were the best of friends. Funny how even kids from the same family can have very different memories of the same past.
Glad you reconnected and had some fun.
My mother went to her reunion year after year. Writing to the secretary telling her mum had passed away was one of the hardest parts of that process for me. Just after she died my daughter went to that school. She's now an old girl too. Sadly the old girls association is looking likely to cease to be. My daughter us trying to get her friends to join more in memory of her grandmother than anything else
Something inside me that I cannot explain causes me to leave past associations far behind me. I would never go to a school reunion. Maybe I should but I can't help myself - it's just not for me.
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