Woodside School, which I attended in my infant and junior years, was a wonderful time in my life. I had many friends there, and left with many memories. Here are some of the teachers that I remember.

The first teacher that comes to mind is from one my earliest memories of school, though unfortunately I can’t actually remember her name! One day she asked us to gather around, so we all sat on the floor and waited for her to speak. We were all very well behaved for her. She was a sweet and small lady with a bowl hair cut. She said she had a secret to share with us, a secret that she hasn’t shared with anybody else before and we were all quite intrigued. After all, what could she possibly want to share with a bunch of children?

Her secret was that she very old and on the verge of retirement. I remember thinking to myself, even at my wise age of 7 that this wasn’t really much of a secret. I mean, she didn’t exactly look young or middle-aged, but it still felt special at the time to be involved with a secret, so I was grateful for that.

I remembered her as a gentle and kind teacher, she had a bit of the old Dame Maggie Smith about her.

One elderly teacher who wasn’t so gentle and kind was Mrs Hay.  She was horrid and clearly didn’t like children. There was a girl at my table called Nikki, who had asked to go to the toilet as she felt unwell. Mrs Hay refused her request, presumably thinking she was faking it. That was until Nikki threw up on the table, and Mrs Hay realised she was wrong and suddenly her tone changed to sympathetic. But it was too little too late, and probably out of the embarrassment of being sick in front of the whole class, and not having the strength anymore to try and be well, Nikki broke down in tears.

Mr Conagan was a tall Scottish teacher who wore glasses, and I was terrified of him. It was probably because he had that strict Scottish voice of authority, and he could give you the hairdryer treatment like Sir Alex Ferguson. 

He definitely sensed the fear in me, and once stared me down and asked, “are you scared of me, son?”

I nervously said no, which neither of us believed.

A few months later he was my form teacher, which I dreaded, but I quickly came to realise he was a lovely guy. He only shouted at the really bad kids. The fear had gone and he become one of my favourite teachers.

Our headteacher at Woodside Junior School was Mr Riding. He was very tall with a moustache, and drove a beaten up car. He occasionally cycled in as well.

He was a great speaker and we all enjoyed the stories he told at assembly. One story I remember was that of an ambitious man who attended a King’s banquet, but he wanted the crown for himself. He then noticed a sword dangling from the ceiling right above his head. The king went over and warned him that when you wear the crown, the fear of a sword over your head will never leave you.

I can’t quite remember the name of our infant school headteacher, but it was either Mrs Rainy or Mrs Brainy. They both sound like nicknames so maybe I’m wrong.

All I really remember of her was she had messy grey hair and seemed quite stressed out most of the time.

Mrs Garner was one of my junior school form teachers. She rewarded marbles to achieving students in her class. The marbles were huge and were stored in a green netted bag. At some point I remember winning one, though I can’t remember why, but I recall being delighted as marbles are amazing. She used to like my artwork, and apparently asked my parent’s permission to show her husband.

I think our deputy head was Mrs Cousins, she was a really good piano player, and we sang along in assembly to her piano playing. Sometimes her daughters (who I guess were in their late teens at the time, though I’ve no idea why they were there) would come along to school, and of course we all fancied them.

Mr Richards was my final form teacher at junior school. He was from New Zealand and taught us the Hakka. He also had quite a temper on him, though thankfully I was never really on the end of it, but I don’t remember him being particularly pleasant to me anyway. He was the type of teacher who probably longed for the cane to be brought back. However, he was much more polite whenever OFSTED were visiting.

I remember one teacher who had hairy nostrils, I want to say it was Mr Garfunkel, but it could have been Mr Gargoyle. He taught us about Guru Nanak, and we spoke about Nanak’s ears a lot. Or maybe that was Van Gogh.

There was another teacher (though it could have been the same one) who in an English lesson said it was bad practice to write ‘and’ after a comma, and I was never very good at not doing that.

Funnily enough, i have no nostalgia for my teachers at secondary school. After Woodside we moved house, far away from my friends and so I had to start again. The Woodside era was cut off and is now long gone.