Autobiographical

Apart from an explosion of musical creativity from punk to ska,  the late 1970s in the UK were marked by significant political and economic upheaval, the Winter of Discontent due to strikes and a sense of insecurity. 

My dad had been becoming increasingly worried about the left-wing bent of the Labour government of the day and even contemplated a move to New York, working initially there as a painter and decorator, something he was good at, as I mentioned previously. However, it never came to that. 

No doubt, owing to my father’s influence and the world existing back then in the 1970s and early 1980s, my teenage life revolved around books, especially in the long dark winter evenings, with a constant desire to read attributable to the lack of alternatives, other than studies. I also enjoyed outdoor football, tennis and table tennis, which all came to supplant my interest in chess.

Not a favourite photo from that time. 

You have to understand that I grew up at a time in England where there were only three TV channels and the daily programming for children ran from 4 to 6 PM. I remember fondly some cartoons – Scooby-Doo, Where Are You!, Top Cat and the Wombles, and other kid shows such as Grange Hill and The Tomorrow People, whereafter I would be expected to go up to my room and do my homework or stay out of sight and keep myself preoccupied. Initially it was the latter.

Dinner would be late, timed to coincide with my dad’s return from work at the School of Oriental and African Studies, where he was now a Professor of Indian History.  If he came back by 9 PM, I would get to catch half an hour of the BBC news before being ushered back upstairs.

As is the case of most people, I never really liked school. The level of indoctrination and inevitable bullying, especially as the new kid on the block aged 13 where everyone was 14. 

Joining in the final semester of the year and juvenile in more ways than most, I found myself at the bottom of the class. 

That shame, however, was overshadowed by another event at a morning assembly in late June. Several people were whispering, but for some reason only I was picked out. I was told to come to the front and then publicly caned. It had never happened to me before. I assume that the priest meting out the punishment derived some sadistic pleasure from lashing out. 

However, I was lucky not to suffer worse. Subsequently, several teachers – all priests – from the school were convicted for sexual abuse of minors, a disturbing and harrowing topic, something that should never happen, especially not at a place preaching to kids about how to live their lives. I am glad they were caught. Luckily neither I, nor any of the pupils I studied with back then were affected directly.

I recently discussed this and other events from those times with two good schoolfriends of mine Chris Haniff and John O’Brien. They stood out in that they already had a vision of their futures. Chris planned to become a professor of physics and John dreamed of becoming a doctor. 

They both achieved their goals. Chris teaches at Downing College, Cambridge, and also leverages his knowledge to assist with the planning, design and implementation of astronomical interferometers (telescope arrays – yes, I had to look that up on Wikipedia). Chris also takes on another role that I would prefer: Fellows’ Steward, responsible for social arrangements, including the sourcing and serving of wines.

Meanwhile, John had to persevere to reach his goal. Back in the 1980s, when only five per cent of the population went to university, it was particularly hard to be admitted to study medicine in London unless your parents were doctors. So John did a degree in pharmacology at King’s College, London and then studied medicine at the University of Aberdeen, where he also met his other half Fiona. They both ended up working as GPs in Portsmouth, before they took on another challenge: retaking their medical exams in order to be able to work as GPs in Vancouver where they now live.

Sorry, once again I have been sidetracked – I will return to school in the next instalment.