Bombs, bombs and other bad things.

There have been one or two times in my life when things could have gone wrong, where they did go wrong, but life went on regardless. In one of the very early years of my teaching career it was assumed that every teacher should take morning assembly at least once and give a little talk or do something to inspire the little darlings. But I, being naive and rather gormless very nearly trod on a land-mine.

Anton had just come back from South America and had seen things young and impressionable youths either should or should not see. So I asked the Headmaster if maybe I could get Anton to talk. The Head thought about it for a while and said it would be okay but he would like to chat with Anton beforehand. He gave us, me and Anton, the go ahead but said that it might alienate me from some of my more elderly and conservative colleagues.

So Anton got up and talked about the lovely countryside of South America, the vibrant people and the number of huge US companies that seemed to own all of the means of production and about other things that we didn’t really hear about very often. The last bit made some of my colleagues squirm a little in their chairs.

And then he said, “And to conclude I would like to play an old hymn which I am sure you all will know. I won’t ask you to sing along but just listen carefully.”

And then he played this:-

And the Headmaster was right. I was ignored by some and very carefully smiled at by others. And some of the Year Twelve boys spoke to me in the yard which was interesting because I only taught in the middle school.