Better Days

I remember clearly the gentle, somewhat eccentric, science masters at my grammar school in an industrial town in Scotland in the 1950s who propelled my three brothers into medical degrees and me into a doctorate in Physics. The children of a miner and brought up in a tough mining village we needed to be kept in order and that was provided by the headmaster, a commando hero back from the recent world war. It also helped that there was a consensus among our parents, teachers, and the police as what constituted reasonable behaviour and reasonable discipline. Finally, my father considered our teachers to be working men like himself and there was no way in God’s earth he would have gone to the police if they had become a bit physical controlling his unruly brood.

Advertisements

%d bloggers like this: