One memory from my junior school days in the 1960s has stayed with me more vividly than most. In my class there was a boy who seemed to receive more punishments than anyone else. Looking back now, it is difficult to understand why he was singled out so often, because he was not what most people would have described as a particularly troublesome or disruptive child. Nevertheless, he was regularly on the receiving end of the school’s disciplinary system.
Over the years I have occasionally seen his name appear in the local newspaper, and recently he surfaced once again. He is now a local councillor and has publicly supported the redevelopment of the old Hucknall aerodrome site, including proposals to build new housing there. Seeing his name brought back a flood of memories from our schooldays.
As children, we all knew him as the boy who was punished more frequently than anyone else. He was slippered countless times and caned on several occasions. If memory serves, he probably received around five canings during our time at junior school, along with perhaps twenty slipperings. One punishment in particular stands out in my memory as being especially severe, when the teacher used the heel of the slipper rather than the flat sole.
One incident became almost legendary among the boys in the class. The teacher had called him forward for a caning and he was bending over in preparation to receive it. For some reason, perhaps a sudden change of heart or a moment of hesitation, the teacher simply could not go through with it. Instead, he angrily hurled the cane across the classroom. It was a remarkable moment, made all the more memorable because such displays of uncertainty from teachers were almost unheard of in those days.
Thankfully, I never received either the slipper or the cane from that particular teacher. My own experience of corporal punishment was limited to a single spanking, administered along with several other boys for making too much noise in class. It was not especially painful, but it was certainly embarrassing. The physical discomfort faded quickly, but the humiliation of standing in front of classmates and being punished left a much stronger impression. Like most boys, I remember my face turning bright red afterwards.
What strikes me now is that, at least under that teacher, only boys seemed to be punished in this way. Whether that reflected the attitudes of the time or simply the teacher’s own approach, I cannot say. Nor can I explain why this particular boy became such a frequent target. He was not aggressive, rebellious, or obviously difficult. More often than not, his offences seemed to be relatively minor things such as talking in class.
Despite this, he appears to have done very well for himself. After leaving junior school, our paths largely diverged. He did not attend the same grammar school that I did, and for several years I saw little of him. The next time I remember encountering him was when we were about fifteen years old. He was working in a local fish and chip shop, and I stopped to chat with him briefly.
Curious, and perhaps remembering his reputation from school, I asked whether he was still getting caned all the time. He simply replied that he was not, and that was the end of the conversation. It was a short exchange, but it stayed with me because it seemed to mark a clear break between the boy who had been repeatedly punished at junior school and the young man he was becoming.
Looking back from today’s perspective, it is hard not to wonder whether the punishments were justified or whether he was simply caught in a cycle that became impossible to escape. Once a child acquired a reputation, teachers often seemed to expect trouble from them, and that expectation could become self-perpetuating. Whatever the reasons, the experience clearly did not define the rest of his life. Far from it. The boy who once spent so much time in trouble at school went on to build a successful life and become involved in public service, which perhaps says more about his character than any punishment ever could.
