If I focus on my time at Castle Vale Comprehensive School (from 11-16), then perhaps the word that seemed to encapsulate what kind of student I was was 'conscientious' - according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, it means:
"very careful about doing what you are supposed to do : concerned with doing something correctly"
This word figured prominently in my end-of-term school reports. I was conscientious about many subjects, so it seemed. (I shall have to find out if my mother has one of my old school reports...that would be cool!) However, it was NOT the word that I wanted - 'clever', 'highly intelligent', 'original', or even 'outstanding' would have been good. But to me, conscientious made me seem like 'middle-of-the-road'. A young man who didn't take risks, who was concerned about not being wrong...too careful. Actually, on reflection, I guess my teachers saw something in me that was very true - though it was a label that I had to fight to get rid of, hence some of my later choices...like finishing school when I was 16... ;-)
I was hard-working, but not spectacular. I didn't like to cheat...in fact, I don't recall cheating at all. This was mainly due to the fact that I wasn't a good liar. If a teacher asked me a question, and I even thought about lying, then my ears would begin to go a strong beetroot colour, and this would spread across the rest of my face! I was also painfully shy at that age, so talking in class was something that I did not often do ;-)
Even at that age, I had a sweet tooth, which I carried into my adulthood. Indeed, all of my teeth (what's left of them) are rather sweet! I was well-known among my friends for always having 'a bag of rocks' (a bag of boiled, sucky sweets). If they fancied something sweet, they knew where to come.
I was punctual, always on time, never wanting to be late. I never played truant, or jumped school...except for one time... ;-) Just before the final exams, only a couple of days remained, and they involved some 'unnecessary' lessons, so I skipped them to play cricket with some friends in the warm summer sunshine. Even then, I was still vaguely tormented with the idea that a teacher might come along and rumble us!
I was also bullied...by one student - Mark Ford. Quite what I ever did to upset him, or provoke him to target me, I guess I shall never know, maybe it was because he knew I just wouldn't fight back...and I didn't. I guess I was a coward back then. I wasn't so strong, was struggling with my weight (as I always have done), and was shy. He didn't harass me so often, but when he did I was shamed by it. It was only for a couple of years...perhaps he grew bored of it? But this experience lodged deep within me, and because of it, I really hate any kind of bullying...and am very sensitive to it.
And during these years, I was also made aware of my own mortality. Stephen Lawless wasn't such a close friend, but he was okay...but one day, while messing around on a children's playground in the days when they still had concrete/tarmac on them instead of the softer material that now exists...he fell from the top of a climbing frame, head first...and a young life was ended at about 13-14, I think. Tragic. I am so thankful to God that I have lived this life...but I often wonder 'why'...
All in all, my teenage school years were not unhappy, but they were also not my favourite period of life. I was glad when, having just passed my 16th birthday, my parents supported my choice to finish my education and to look for a job - which I found about 2-3 months later. This is sometimes hard for me to grasp now, as I teach many students who are older than 16. I don't think it did me any harm ;-)
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