From time to time one of our members will share a story from their lives, we are privileged to reproduce the latest contribution here

A Trip Down Memory Lane with Nancy Steven

The start of the new school term reminded me of having to cover the school books issued at the outset of every academic year. This was a task that inadvertently highlighted the socio-economic differences between the pupils within the class, most but not all of whose fathers worked in the car factory or shipyards. Mothers rarely worked outside of the home then. Those higher up the scale covered their books (AND jotters) in brown paper bought specifically for the purpose (“money to burn” according to my thrifty mother). They wrote their name, their class and the title of the book or subject in block capitals, all neatly underlined with a ruler. Others (myself included) used leftover wallpaper, sparking many interior design discussions during the interval. My aforementioned thrifty mother only ever allowed woodchip in our house because “you can keep painting over it”. I had to write my details in between the bits of wood, and I defy anyone to successfully use a ruler on woodchip. Then there were those who were from even less affluent households than the rest of us, who used an assortment of coverings like newspaper pages or plastic carrier bags turned inside out. Sometimes a sympathetic teacher would find some old paper and would quietly hand it over. We were all the same, however, in having been brought up to respect not only education and the freedom it could buy, but also property belonging to someone else. Elainne Lawrie
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