The simplicity of my day to day.
This is where I write my thoughts, feelings and my daily trials, tribulations and happy things
|PROMPT November 24th
In a previous prompt, I asked you to write about your
best, or favorite teacher. Tonight write about your darkest teacher.
This is the teacher who ruined my life while I was at primary school. She terrified me.
Her name was Cynthia Stretton. I thought she was ancient but as much later on she gave birth to twin boys she must have been in her twenties. I used to see her years later with her boys. They looked like her, tall, gangly and miserable.
One day sticks in my mind. It was the Queens Coronation so 1953. I was nine years old. We had to write an essay on the ceremony. I had been trying to think of the name of the canopy which was held over the Queen’s anointing. It’s a secret ceremony which no one was allowed to witness. Even the TV cameras had to turn away. Anyway I described the colour of the thing (purple) how it had a pole at each corner etc. But no, this wasn’t enough for Miss Stretton. I had to sit in my chair all day until I remembered the word “canopy!” Another time I wrote “hundredweight” instead of the abbreviation “CWT” Again same deal! She threw my sewing back at me and told me to unpick it, half a dozen times. I never wanted to go to school.
Teacher really have no idea what they can do to a child. They can make but they can certainly break.