It wasn’t as if I wanted to train to be a teacher I didn’t. As a young girl I wanted to be a gardener. I had a patch of garden to call my own and tried to grow things as best I could. It was definitely trial and error but I really enjoyed it. I planted wild strawberries I had found in the woods and then tried my best to nurture them into large juicy ones! My mother laughed at my efforts but no one told me that they were a different strain and what I was trying to do was impossible. I did much better with the dried peas I took from the food cupboard. They grew well and produced pods of peas. I was thrilled. However when I voiced my ambition to be a gardener my father laughed and said I was far too fragile, not strong enough and so that dream ended. From that day on it was only ever going to be a hobby. I never questioned my parents. I was always very obedient and a good child.

I am the middle child in a large family; I have six siblings, so I didn’t get a whole lot of attention. My mother said I didn’t need it because I was a good child. My older sister had terrible temper tantrums and took up most of my parents’ time and a younger sister was visually handicapped and again needed a lot of attention. I was content, a happy child. I once locked my mother in the cellar, not out of malice, but she didn’t panic because she said she knew I would unlock the door the minute I was told to, which I did. However she was so busy spring cleaning the cellar that she forgot she had put things in the oven. It was an old coal range with an oven and the fire had got hotter and hotter and so when my mother opened the oven door everything burst into flames. In a panic she took the flaming dish out of the oven carrying it across the kitchen to put it in the garden but splashed hot fat all the way across the kitchen and that set little fires all the way along. I would only be four years old but I remember it vividly. The fire fascinated me and I was really enjoying it but then my mother said “OH your sister’s dress is burning she will be so angry when she gets home “. Now that did frighten me .Her temper tantrums were bad enough when she had no reason to be angry. What would she be like now she had a reason? Once she was so naughty that in desperation my father said he would throw her away and he carried her down to the dustbin and put her in it. It didn’t do any good. She still continued with her temper tantrums but, after that, I was terrified that I would be thrown away if I was naughty, so I was a good child.

Then high school happened. Academia took over. Everything was about doing well at school and I put all my efforts into that. I did well because I worked so hard. I was not the brightest child but I did get more GCSEs than my siblings even though some of them were a lot cleverer than me. If I’d been clever I wouldn’t have got top marks in Latin when I hated the subject. The clever ones deliberately did badly and then were allowed to drop the subject. I learned from this and did very, very badly in algebra thinking that would be it and I wouldn’t have to do it ever again but that was different and I just ended up a year behind. We had a most awful headmistress. She was a nun. She didn’t believe in illness and girls would faint in assemblies and we were not allowed to go to their aid. She constantly blackmailed us saying that she would not give as a reference if we did not toe the line. That meant not speaking not even when walking on the corridor. She would stand and stare at us (the death stares). The only time we could talk was at break time. Lunch was to be eaten in silence whilst we listened to prayer readings. However that did not stop me standing up to her over my art. My friends could not believe it. She was a Goliath to my David.

When we had chosen our exam subjects I had chosen physics and chemistry, in place of art and geography in my quest to be academic and do well, but we did not have the teachers for those subjects. We were an all-girls convent school and they were considered boys subjects so we borrowed the science teachers from the local boys’ school to teach chemistry and physics after school hours. Having male teachers was so novel to us, as all our teachers were women, so we played pranks on these poor men who did not know how to discipline us. For example if they passed round an experiment we would tamper with it and then, of course, it didn’t work and we giggled when he scratched his head wondering why. He used to say that if we were boys he would sit on us but because we were girls he didn’t know what to do. Never let your weakness show! We took full advantage of it. I used to alter the school clock so the bell would ring early and we could get out before we should! Because it was after school and the head was not around we had a ball. Such freedom and such fun until the mock exams where, of course, I failed miserably. I wanted to drop the sciences and pickup Art hence my showdown with the head. I told her clearly that there was no way I was going to pass Physics or Chemistry, and as results were all she cared about, she backed down and allowed me to pick up Art. I had unwittingly chanced upon the very argument to win my case! I was a legend in the school for standing up to her and WINNING.I passed O level Art with flying colours!

Then came the real confrontation. I wanted to do A-level Art. She said it was not a subject and so they didn’t do it and the only way I could do it was to go to the local art college, but I must wear uniform, and take History A-level as well which was her favourite subject. I agreed to her terms but persuaded three of my friends to join me as we had to walk through the market and the gasworks to get to the Art College. Not a very salubrious part of the town. So off we went, pink with embarrassment at having to wear uniform when all the other students were beatniks and fashionably untidy. However you do have to suffer for your art. After a strict schooling we felt like rebels attending the art college and after a while we discarded our uniforms and never got found out. We all passed with top grades but I’m afraid I failed the History. I applied to College to study Art and was delighted to be accepted. I was on my way. I was going to be an artist.