by Annette Clarke
`For what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly
thankful. Amen.'
Every school dinner-time began with these words of grace when I was at junior school, back in the 1960s, and no child left the dining hall until after-dinner grace had been recited, either.
Saying grace before and after meals was part of Christian tradition then, along with morning assembly, whether you attended a county primary or a church school.
Each day began with the whole school congregating in orderly lines in the hall, to be addressed by the headmaster. We sat, cramped and cross-legged, while he lectured us about right and wrong, about the love and the wrath of God, glaring at us over the top of his half-moon spectacles, before reading us a Bible story to illustrate his lecture. Then we all stood, put our hands together, screwed up our eyes and recited the Lord's prayer, before singing a hymn or two. Assembly always closed with the School Hymn, Jerusalem. Few of us could sing in tune, but there was something about starting the school day by belting out `And did those feet, in ancient times... ', which sent us off to our classrooms with our heads held high, our backs straight and the headmaster's sermon ringing in our ears.
He was a stern man, our headmaster, and we held him in awe. If he had cause to enter the classroom during a lesson, we leapt to our feet as one, and remained standing and silent until he'd left the room. Yes, we were afraid of him, he had power, he had The Cane, and if we misbehaved, he used it on us. But he never abused his power, and he never misused the cane, preferring to wield it as a deterrent, rather than a punishment. It worked, too, on most children.
We knew we had to behave respectfully in class and that if we didn't, the teacher would report us to the headmaster, who would summon us to his office for a warning. Repeated bad behaviour would result in a summons to our parents - the worst possible scenario!
In the 1960s, parents were only summoned into schools for three reasons: Parents' Evening, the Nativity play and if the headmaster had a serious complaint about you. Then, unlike now, parents trusted teachers; if your teacher was displeased with you, your parents were. If the headmaster had summoned them, you were in double trouble. You'd get the cane - `six of the best' across the backside for boys, and two whacks across each palm for girls - then a hiding from your Mum when you got home.
Towards the end of the 60s, a number of psychologists and politicians began speaking out against the `barbarity' of caning children. They warned of long-term emotional damage, of cruelty and indignity. Those in authority heard and heeded the warnings.
I attended a secondary school which prided itself on its progressive teaching methods. One day, a boy in my English class persistently made a nuisance of himself, disrupting the lesson by mimicking the teacher, who eventually asked him to leave the classroom and go to the headmaster's office. The boy refused to go. Subsequently, he refused to accept the cane. His mother, when summoned to the school, refused to allow him to be caned. Word spread.
Before long, there was a two-tiered system. Parents could give written permission for their children to refuse the cane. Ironically, those who did were mostly the parents of the most undisciplined, disruptive children in the school. Before I left that school, discipline had crumbled to a farcical detention system, which few children took any notice of. More and more classes were suffering disruption from pupils who wielded power over their teachers, who had no back-up.
It wasn't long before the religious ethos of the school was brought into question by the parents who had removed the headmaster's right to discipline unruly children.
`We don't go to church, so why should our children be made to pray and sing hymns during morning assembly?' Gradually, God was expelled from many schools. Those who continued to teach His word had to emphasise His love and kindness, and play down His anger and judgement.
Just as children stopped fearing and respecting their powerless teachers, so they stopped fearing the wrath of God - who is still all-powerful and worthy of awe.
Parents need to consider more than just league tables, when choosing their children's school. They must question the values being taught, and whether, at the end of the day, they will be truly thankful for what their children have received.
*
