Carole-Anne Fooks

It was a hot day in early February 1953. About 200 new first year girls stood on the asphalt; bemused, excited, apprehensive and wondering. After some time we were called to attention and allocated to classes. I was in 1R with about 40 others.

I had come from a small suburban primary school where our class totalled 14 (5 girls and 9 boys) and we had always been in a classroom with another class. The size of these new classes and the total number of students was amazing. I knew one other student and we ended up in different classes. Croydon Girls Technical School was a new start of incredible magnitude.

Another huge change for me was the manner in which subjects were taught: three by the class teacher and six others by specialists. Again the contrast with primary school was immense where I had the same class teacher who taught everything for five out of seven years.

In many ways I was ready for these changes. I had always been a pretty hopeless student at primary school: poor writer, atrocious speller and very mediocre at arithmetic. Most of this began to be resolved in the last term of grade 7 when it was discovered that I was very short-sighted – my acquisition of glasses changed my life. I had my childhood plaits cut off around the same time. And then moving into secondary school I was able to make a new start.

The problem of poor writing has never been solved. The lack of basic skills in arithmetic and bad spelling acquired in childhood didn’t disappear overnight but the signs were there. After the first term exams I was in the top five per cent of the class in most subjects and top in art and science: I had found a niche. These subjects along with dressmaking really suited my particular practical and organisational bent. Domestic science was much too rigid for me – cold starching a collar and turning envelope corners on a bed were not exciting or challenging. Social science, music (in reality singing) and English were quite enjoyable – I was one of the few who admitted enjoying the novel Man Shy by Frank Dalby Davison. Arithmetic as far as the under-pinning basics were concerned was still difficult. But worst of all was physical education – a period of total humiliation during almost every class due to pressure to be able to do tumbles and other athletic activities to a standard way beyond what my skinny body could attain. This was institutional cruelty.

In art and science I had found real interest and the staff who taught these subjects were inspirational: the science teacher in her understanding of adolescent girls as well as her lesson presentation and the art teacher for her mostly gentle encouragement and her appreciation of my work. This dual interest created a tussle in my life. The science teacher wanted me to make science a career and likewise the art teacher, art!

The problem was that if I were to pursue science I would have to start high school over again due to the need to take physics, chemistry and maths. Quite a dilemma for a 12 year old. To assist me in this process the science teacher arranged for me to have an extensive vocational suitability/IQ test at the Education Department one Saturday morning. After about two hours of testing and a long wait for the results they told me I was most suited to a career in civil or mechanical engineering – for a girl unheard of in those days! In the end I decided to go with art and so I stayed on at Croydon Girls.

I guess that the point of this tale is that there were staff who cared for me as an individual; even amongst the strict behavioural requirements of the fifties I was seen and treated as a person in my own right.

Very early on I became the monitor for setting up the microphone and amplifier for school assemblies. This led to operating the 16mm projector (I never did have a licence) and when the school obtained its first tape recorder in 1955, a heavy reel-to-reel Grundig, I very quickly became the school’s tape-recording specialist – I don’t quite know how – I probably just read the manual. I was even at that time very conscious that these types of activities were important opportunities and that had I been in a co-ed school no doubt the boys would have looked after such equipment.

In 1956 when the first male teacher was appointed to the school I was appalled. I saw this appointment as an insult to the staff of the school. The role models had been very strong. The sense of self-worth (of which I had very little at the beginning of 1953) had been developed. I had learnt to recognise my abilities and strengths and to take action and be responsible.

The school leaving age was just 14, and with the majority of students coming from working class backgrounds they were eager to work. Common aspirations were to serve in a shop, become a hairdresser or a secretary. So by the time 1956 came around the class numbers situation had gone full circle. The 200 first year students in 1953 had reduced to just eight in the Leaving class of 1956, and that included a repeat student and a transfer student from another school. We were housed in a small mezzanine room pretty much away from everyone else. We were quite often left unsupervised and we didn’t do as much work as we should – but we did have a good time! Exam results? Well, that’s another story.

Return to contents Buy A Broader Vision	© Erica Jolly and individual authors