This is a raw piece of me talking about my time in my Highschool and I was thinking about writing a story or a possible short book from it, so if you get through this let me know if I should or not. I wrote this when I was have asleep, that’s why it might jump from something to something else.
Lucky? Hell I’ve never been the lucky type or that’s how I see it. I suppose I’m lucky compared to some, like a boy Andrew I know, he’s a bully magnet everyday someone would be picking on him. But I thought he was a sound guy and befriended him but it didn’t stop the bullying. Shame, he’s a easy person to get along with, maybe that’s why he’s picked on.
Anyway, in the mornings I followed a usual routine, boring and it repeated itself daily, wake up, shower, get dressed, breakfast, leave house then meet up with my mates walking to school. For round three years it was the same thing over and over but now the thing I’d wish to end has and I strangely almost miss it. Almost. I think the bit I missed the most was walking with my mates, I was always the odd one of any group I was with, I wore mostly black clothing, skater shoes, designer jeans and jacket. And an afro. I believe that was the most unique thing about me if you compared the way I looked to other stereotypes, I’ve been called, a chav, ned and an emo, the last one the most because my mates found that annoys me, but I don’t like been categorized like I’m some product and I have to stay with my own kind, so to speak.
I’ve never been bullied or picked on a lot because I sometime loose the plot and hit them. I’ve never been a popular person or the quiet one, I was known by all my year and some bellow and above it too and to be honest, I liked been in that position. I was not surrounded by people who I hardly knew, who I hung around with knew me as me. I once I wondered what it look like if I picked out everyone I was mates with and put them in a room together, then I realized it wouldn’t work, if I did that there would probably be only two people who wouldn’t run into a corner in thier ‘category‘. I know them two like they were brothers because they were the closest thing to role models to me, both older than me but the best thing about it was I knew I could tell anything and vice versa.
But back to school, as you walk between the two rows of shops you’d see a large building with a green fence surrounding parts of it. Like a prison that taught you and controlled you’re actions. First two years there, lets say I didn’t exactly be the good pupil. I remember something’s that happened in those fun filled years, My year was officially classed as the ‘worsted’ year ever in history of the school. My class made our home econiocs teacher cry. She was a nasty cow anyway. Two games were created, who had the most detentions and punishment exercises, I won the punishment exercises hands down, from what I remember in first year I had over 60. But sadly I lost the detentions, I had 4 and my mate Rory had something like over 15. He was my main rival when it came to that game. And the second was who had the worst attentions for that year. I was always second, another mate Scott who basically never turned up for school won any and every time, he slept during the day and stayed up most of the night and then has the cheek to call me a vampire! I just never slept that much but I did fall asleep a few in class. But! The teacher said if I didn’t snore I could sleep. I did so once, one minute she’s talking about monster trucks, then I awake to hear about suides and people being hung from lampposts, I wondered what when on in her head. She was supposed to be teaching us but I didn’t complain, I caught up on lost sleep and she rambled on about stuff I never heard or I caught the end of it.
Second year was really just the same, like a repeat of the year before. Nothing changed, only this year we’d be choosing classes for third year, all I can say to that is ‘what was I thinking’. I didn’t make the best choices, for example music, my right hand is basically useless for playing instruments, playing basketball which I loved! And I can’t even draw or write for long periods at a time. In four year I dropped it after a fight with the school.
Now skills for work or rural skills as it was called. Wow. Just wow, that course was the most useless thing I ever learned. No I’m not saying anything against gardening or forestry work but they taught us like we were brain dead, showing us what to do over and over. But the class was fun, we were teased about the fact we did rural skills but soon we had pride in being apart of the ‘official rural!’ as it was called by some of my mates. Songs, raps, everything was formed about rural skills. It was funny.
Throughout school another thing that I stood out in was my taste in music, most liked hardcore and all the other usual music. I do like that too but I also liked metal, rock, heavy metal, anything metal basically. All music genres I had ad least had one song I liked. But that was more fuel on the fire of people calling me an emo.
Classes, where do I begin.
1st and 2nd year French and German class, I never learned anything in these subjects. Well I couldn’t, in my classes everyone didn’t care, our pencils used to fly around the room when the teachers back were turned, trying not to get caught and hopefully have a pen or pencil in hand or near on the floor when the teacher turned back from writing on the board. One other thing that started was sticking the pen or pencils in the ceiling. Not possible? I beg to differ as the ceilings in our class rooms were made of some thing plasterboard or something which was strong enough to hold a pencil if it was pierced by the tip. What you did was held the pencil, sitting or standing, so the tip was facing down then flicked it up so it rotated and if you did it correctly it stuck perfectly in the ceiling. The two main problems was once you do it you have nothing to write with so you had to carry another pencil with you or get another off someone cause you had to stand on the table to get the pencil out. Then the other is if you get caught, game over, head teacher, punishment exercise and a possible detention.
I remember my German teacher and how we were all convicted she was always drunk and when she went on he mental rage fits at us, we had to hold in the laughter as waved he hands about and walked back on forth round the room.
Geography, what a subject. Our teacher was truly a legend it all terms and means of the word. He was partly deaf and used to shout at my class to turn off the music we were playing in different areas of the room. He was the only teacher who didn’t care what we did or just gave up on us. From first year to fourth our numbers fell from round twenty pupils who were partly listening and learning to eleven, well twelve if you count the awesome polish pupil named Kasper, not joke that was his name. We didn’t listen to the teacher and he eventually joined us but he always taught us and we did some work but we were in control so to speak.
I do admit I didn’t always listen in my classes but History was a subject I did love, and still love. One of the funniest things that happened was my mate Jordan asked the teacher who is a women after she was talking about jack the ripper and prostitutes in the Victorian times, ‘how does she like it’. He said it so innocently and yes he meant it in a sexual context, I still can’t understand what caused him to ask a teacher such a question, there’s some questions you can ask and get away with and something’s you didn’t say or ask ever but with Jordan he did didn’t understand that and took it further than anyone could of imagined. The teachers face dropped and the only thing she could say was ‘get out my class’. Jordan kept saying back ‘seriously miss?’ like he didn’t do anything wrong, and they both kept repeating each other until Jordan took the hint and left the room.
Music was a fail to begin with, as well as Mr Narin (along with all the stupid narin jokes) with a Glasgow accent saying “De you wanna a punny?!” always threatening people with punishment exercise and Mrs Stuart was hardly in the class, disappearing out the room for 20 minutes every class.
Computing, that was a luagh in all with our teacher Mr Ivan, deemed Pervy Irvy by all. We did learn in that class and I could get always with everything, from swearing to kicking someone off their chair (mucking about of course). And my mate callum Tawse, or Tawsey was hated by Mr Ivan with a passion. Everything he did he got sent out for, for example I didn’t have my homework two weeks in a row and Tawsey forgot his once, I didn’t get anything done to me, he got sent out the class and I think he got a punishment exercise too.
Accounting & finance, again another one of my poor choice in subjects. This class was easy until the teacher who was a brilliant guy to get along with left and we were left at the mercy of two pinheads who claim to be accounting teachers but both were administration teachers.
Maths was like accounting, everything was good until our teacher left us and we were stuck with a useless old bat who was retired and came back just to teach us and repeated everything we learnt. Because of this me and my class weren’t allowed to sit the maths exam because we didn’t know half the bloody things in it.
English, now as someone who enjoys writing most might thing I’d ad least enjoy English a bit. Wrong! I only liked writing, I wasn’t a big fan of close reading and especially talks. The dreaded talks, I hate talking in front of the class yet if we were out of the class I could talk in front of them without hesitating.
Art. Loved art and design but I wasn’t allowed to take it as my class was not the best in that subject and since I was in it, I wasn’t allowed like hospitality, wasn’t allowed to take that because well. I just say something’s happened I was blamed/ framed, so yeah I wasn’t their favourite pupil anyway.
Break time or break. All the freedom with got in the mornings before lunch, that was one of the best times of the day. Groups of people sitting talking, moaning about school, chatting about what happened it there last class. Sadly the categories were here too but it was still fun to talk. Then feel a random set of hands touching my hair, sometimes even being blinded because someone decide to hug my head and rub their face against my hair then to see its one of my mates. Funny times. Honestly, even random people I didn’t know loved my hair, and a few times like recently before I left school I got my afro cut off, mainly Thomas but others went in the huff with me too, but Thomas was the huffiest. It was a joke of course. The josh was upset because I was his ’little poddle’ but I was much taller that him so I don’t know how he got that in his head but he wasn’t the brightest person.
