Thursday, September 06, 2007

"One She Dislikes"

What my Dad wrote on the back; This teacher likes or dislikes certain children and Jason is one she dislikes. He sits next to another boy who is very naughty, But I have sorted this out. L Tolmie



Trafalgar Junior School, Twickenham.

Name; Jason Paul Tolmie
Class; IW
Date; Summer 1979

English

Reading age; 7 years 2 months. Jason's reading has improved considerably this year and his word attack skills have also advanced a lot. His handwriting is still very cramped and slowly produced. He is able to write in sentences when he sets his mind to the task and is making a start on story writing. He makes little effort to learn his spellings for tests but there has been some improvement in this field because of his better reading skills.
He has little idea about punctuation. His written comprehension work is slowly improving but he dislikes the effort involved in answering fully and skimps this type of work. His aural comprehension work is better but still suffers from his poor concentration.

Mathematics

Jason has not made much effort to master the simple number bonds, nor has he learnt any of his multiplication tables. He can count on in two's with difficulty. His concept of place value is very shaky - he is fairly happy with tens and units but hundreds and thousands confuse him completely. He can add tens and units and is beginning to master carrying with the aid of Dienes apparatus. He can manage only the simplest subtraction and although he has had experience of multiplication and sharing he is not yet able to do simple sums using these operations. He cannot manage problems using the basic operations. He can measure accurately in centimeters but has difficulty in drawing straight lines and using a compass. He is still confused about telling the time. He can do simple money sums.

Environmental Studies

Jason has poor concentration and rarely listens for long in Environmental Studies lessons. He does not contribute to discussions nor is he able to answer questions sensibly. He is unable to record factual in his own words, although he is now able to copy notes accurately from the blackboard.
Although an eager participant in gymnastics and games he is not always a sensible one. In Country Dancing and Movement he is also frequently silly and does not listen to instructions. He makes little effort to join in singing lessons but has made a start with the recorder. His artwork is careless and he prefers to throw plasticene rather than model with it.

General Development


At the beginning of the year Jason avoided work whenever he could. Fortunately, he discovered that he had to finish work before he could play and this led to a dramatic increase in output. His standard of work has improved immeasurably and while not yet up to average he should be able to work more with his own class next year.
This improvement in work has not been reflected in his general behaviour. He has been frequently in trouble during this year. He is often slyly disobedient. He has been observed misbehaving or, more seriously, taking other childrens' property, and then steadfastly denies his guilt. He is violent towards other children, secure in the knowledge that they may not hit him back. While acknowledging the difficulties Jason faces because of his illness some action is necessary to stop Jason and his appalling behaviour.

Class Teacher; Miss S R Webber
Headmaster; Mr Emblin


Oh how sweet! What a Lovely little boy,
run with him, play with him like your favorite toy,
He was beautiful, he was shy, he wouldn't hurt a fly,
Ok, he'd pick off their wings, poke them in the eye,
he did throw pasticene all around the class,
straight over the other kids and into some glass,
he borrowed forever, another boys thing,
a boy who was happy, a boy who could sing,
poor concentration, I wonder why?
his illness and violence, why deny?
you may not hit me for I will bleed to death,
but if I deserve it, you may take my last breath.




I was eight and a half...just! I was a very shy boy and quiet most of the time but as you can see, I was a little sod too. But then I was the only boy in my school who spent hours up at the A&E in the middle of the night on a regular basis...crying in pain, trying not to think about the needle that I thought I was avoiding during the day at school, hoping my bleed would go away on it's own! They never did go away! So up to the hospital I went at 2am, back at home at 5am. Missing school the next day (hooray) because I was exhausted from all of the pain and feeling terribly frightened. I should have been asleep, dreaming. Like most other eight and a half (just) year old little boys.

I didn't know it at the time, neither did my teacher, nor my headmaster, nor my Mum & Dad, not even my doctors...but I had Hep C too! Let me throw plasticene for gods sake! Let me have some fun before it all goes tits up!

"You got haemophilia haven't you? And that means we ain't supposed to hit you doesn't it?"
...If I have done something to deserve being hit, then hit, hit away boys, I won't stop you...

Note; I don't remember being violent towards other children, I was just not that sort of kid. Yeah, all schools have their fair share of little shits and I was one of them...sometimes, when I needed to be one. If I was pushed or provoked, I would give back accordingly...maybe a little more just to make sure they didn't do it again. Some people you can talk your way out of a fight, others you just have to run and some just need to be hit straight away and hard. I have never hit anyone for no reason!




Jason









(C) JPT 2007.........2773.14 miles.

7 comments:

Ros said...

This post made me laugh out loud...

'frequently silly and does not listen to instructions' - in Country Dancing and Movement for goodness sake - what did she expect!!

'he prefers to throw plasticene rather than model with it' - hahaaa!

And what the heck was Environmental Studies when you were 8 years old?

And what do these mean: 'simple number bonds', 'place value', 'carrying with the aid of Dienes apparatus' eh??? - I have no idea and I thought I was ok at Maths!

Miss Webber was clearly not your biggest fan but I cannot believe you were ever 'slyly disobedient', no way. Just probly an easily led little chap who wanted to be like the other boys and not be different?

Your dad is a star - 'I have sorted this out. L Tolmie' - bosh!

:)

Ample said...

I'm glad my bean doesn't go to your school - sounds like your teacher was the little shit to me. And that your classes were BORING: "....rarely listens for long in Environmental Studies lessons." who could blame you. 8 yo. Geeze!

Well, I think your "appalling behavior" is fantastic ;)

and I love the poem in the middle.

Not Blank said...

Your 'word attack skills,' have definitely improved! Blog you, Miss Webber!
Was this a boarding school? This report is the best argument for home schooling I've ever seen!

'A friend who bleeds is better' said...

Fab bloggage glad your dad stuck up for you :), it's weird looking back is it best to leave a child in mainstream education or put them into a specialist environment due to long-term health conditions? Still haven't answered my own question.

- recently read my medical records and was horrified to read a letter from my Head Mistress to the Haematologist saying 'I am worried that Helen will use the heavy menses associated with her condition to avoid games/swimming ad infinitum, she is a lazy girl both physically and mentally'.

*blinks*

Bring on the pink swimming pool biatch! I mean I had spent a mere 6 years of my childhood on crutches/in calipers and in wheelchair. Goddess forbid I should shirk my swimming responsibilites 'ad infinitum' due to a mere 21 days outta 28 day life-threatening period!

Swimming was possibly the only part of school I enjoyed!(apart from sniffing Tipp-Ex and spraying foam extinguishers, oh yeah and Scottish Country Dancing on calipers was a fucking hoot!).

Glad my Haematologist replied 'maybe you'd think twice about joining in games if your haemaglobin was 4.6 and you were in constant pain from arthropathy'. Go Dr Swinburne.

Chris Vacano said...

As a fellow former little shit with hemophilia and associated complications, I say "right on!" to you and your pop. To you for being an 8 1/2 (just) year old kid and giving as good as you got when need be, blowing off the obviously pompous, self-absorbed and evidently long-winded teacher. And to your old man for finding a delightfully polite but firm means of telling the old bag to piss off.

I too was known to blow off what passed for cultural education (Country Dancing and Movement, indeed!), and huck the occasional bit of clay. Hell, in 7th grade (much later on), I got my first D... in ART! Ha ha ha. I showed them: I got my Bachelor's in Art... oh yeah, with honors... Magna Cum Laude! I was also exceptional at reducing the class-room bullies to tears, simply by opening my mouth.

About the only difference I can reckon is that my first 8 years were spent under the watchful tutelage of a gang of penguins (yeah, nuns). Drummed Catholicism right out of me!

It's a pity that too many teachers out there can't see the sparkle of uniqueness in every child while they try to hammer them into conformist lumps of dough. Pink Floyd nailed the educational system, methinks!

Here's one brother who's damned glad you turned out the way you are, Jaex! Damn the Man!!!

Lucy said...

"Slyly disobedient" hehehe I like it.

When I look at the school reports I get now for my girls at that age, they are so bland you can't even tell whether they're clever or thick, or naughty or good.

Glad your dad went straight up the school!

Lucy

Samantha Tolmie said...

Remember that awful special school you went to for a bit? You used to come home with a bleed what seemed like EVERY DAY! And I remember very clearly going up to Royal Free in an ambulance several times a week and being handed a lovely grey 'hat' for my inevitable vomit. I also remember watching you being held down by several nurses and a doctor to give you an injection. I remember that awful social services woman (Mrs Miller?) and her awful room and the awful videoing of our 'interviews'. And I remember your FIRST EVER injection at home (that daddy did). We all sat and watched. You were on mummys and daddys bed (with the red lino floor and the pale blue candlewick bedspread).

Miss you mate.