Teacher Training in the 1960s. How to become a personality moulder on the education production line. The trials and tribulations of moving from the back to the front of the class and how to cope with all the obstacles placed in the path of learning by the average teenager.
Views: 404 | Enquiries: 0I was conceived in Dorset born in Northamptonshire and now live in Yorkshire. My early life, starting in 1947, was relatively pastoral growing up in a small town tainted with shoe factories but surrounded by rolling countryside. My parents determined that my sister and I should not follow them onto the factory floor of the Boot and Shoe trade chivvied and encouraged us to get a reasonably good education and despite our best efforts to ignore this some of it rubbed off.
My teen years were made more entertaining by the combination of the US air force and a Lambretta motor scooter these enabled me to explore the world of R&B music. As part of a distinctly amateur rock group which played predominately black music to mainly black audiences in the PX clubs of the plethora of American Air Bases which dotted my part of East Anglia. These establishments also provided access to cigarettes, alcohol and ten pin bowling at prices which were affordable due to the excellent exchange rate and US government subsidy. My thanks to America, for making teen angst bearable by providing very necessary distractions.
Following three years of glorious irresponsibility at a teacher training college in South Wales I qualified as a teacher and proceeded to make children’s lives less than exciting. Due to the miserable pay scales of that time I gave up moulding personalities and became a sales rep for an educational supplies company. This move doubled my pay and provided a free car. Oh Joy. Since then I have muddled my way through the world of work in various capacities and industries while managing to provide a home for my wife and two children (one of each). Now is the best bit, I am retired and blessed with the Fearsome Four, my grandchildren, three girls and a boy, who do their best to drive me insane and make me tearfully proud by turns.
So now I write. I write for my own amazement (Science Fiction) and the entertainment of the Fearsome Four (The Sprocket Sagas) both of which seem to be liked by some wonderful people who have taken the time to read and review my books.
I have always been a keen reader despite being labelled of remedial grade in primary school and now try to pay forward by reviewing the books I consume like a starveling at a banquet. What goes around comes around. Long live the reviewers.
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