Peter Streetfrom MEMOIRS1956/57. I was about eight and Miss Clarkson was giving me lots of nice red ticks in my maths book. Then one day of that year for some strange reason everything in my maths was wrong and I don't remember getting any more red ticks! Miss Clarkson was really nice. My school was really nice. I had lots of friends. All the doors that were once opened in my mind had suddenly slammed shut. I didn't know why. I just stopped learning. Not only that but when all the other kids in our class were covering their exercise books with their favourite covers, Christmas wrapping paper or left over bits of wall paper or what ever, they all made it look so easy and it was always clean, tidy and perfect. I tried, really tried but it always seemed to go wrong! That or it always ended up covered in jam or marmalade. Once it was coal dust after I had been making the fire in the front room. The only time when the teacher shouted at me was when I brought a Ladybird book (Robin Hood) back which my dog had chewed. It had been a bad morning. Ok, I now agree if there had been no jam on the book my dog "Vick" would have left it alone. So my dog had to be punished. The punishment was to be harsh. The dog had to be taught a lesson. That punishment came in the form of a wrestling match with me: Peter Street, wrestling champion of 339 Blackburn Road. I was in the red corner warming up. While Vick sat waiting in the opposite corner near the stand-up radio-gram with the ivory push-pull buttons. It was going to be a walk over. I wrestled him from the chair and I was underneath him with my head and face between his back legs ready to turn him onto his back for the winning submission when he won the match by peeing on my head and face! Of course I didn't have time to wash I just wiped my face on Mam's tea-towel and went to school not thinking anyone would be able to stink me. So, for having the most damaged book in the class and stinking of dog pee, I was made to go and stand outside the classroom in the corridor. If anyone asked me why I was standing there I had to tell them the truth. Of course the whole school thought it was funny, I didn't. Well, eventually I did and me and "Vick" made up when I returned home from school. It wouldn't have been so bad if my dog had been some huge snarling Alsatian, but it was only a small black and white mongrel I loved so much. Some time after Kathleen and her Mam came round. It was a wet day, Dad was out at work, so Kathleen and I spent the afternoon, first with her showing me how to cover my exercise books, then how to draw straight lines onto blank pieces of paper and in return I let Kathleen twiddle with my hair and paint my face with makeup and lipstick. Great, until Dad noticed over dinner the bits of make-up and lipstick I hadn't washed off properly. He freaked, saying: "I went to court for him. No girl is going to damage him. That girl Kathleen could never visit again!" "Ok," Mam said. Then when he went to the toilet. Mam took me to one side to tell me that I would have to make sure I washed it all of the next time Kathleen came round. I loved going to school. I had loads of friends. The teachers were great and honestly I tried, I mean I really tried to learn but it just wouldn't happen. It was the start of the New Year. I was eight going on nine. When our class were taken into the hall for dancing lessons. Great. Something new, it was a kind of formation dance. I just couldn't grasp the left and right and the cross over type of thing. The teacher used to grab hold of my hand and slowly walked me through it. She was very patient with me and regardless of the many times she did this I just couldn't grasp it. Not Being Me
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