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I got a lovely email today from Dr Anthea Fraser Gupta. She is writing her memoir and had googled "Herring + Green Lane" because she wanted to find out the first name of her old headmaster from that school. And she'd come across
this blog from January 2023.
She was very keen to give a more accurate picture of my grandad (and to be honest, I suspected at the time that the aunties of my brother-in-law's partner might be misremembering or confusing my grandad with someone else - having done a little research into Facebook groups from ex-pupils,
I wonder if Mr Jardine might have been the culprit- but even if they weren't then their experience might not be the one that most people had).
Anthea writes "Mr Herring was very kind to me, and was a major and a positive influence on my future. I was from a working class background, living in one of the 3 streets of council houses in the Green Lane catchment. The catchment for Green Lane was very middle class indeed, and many children had fathers who were doctors or solicitors. Not stereotypical Middlesbrough. You'll notice that there are an unexpectedly high proportion of girls in this class. This is mostly because boys were more likely than girls to be sent to private school. There was discrimination against the council house children from some other pupils, and from some teachers, but never from your grandfather. "
She has some stuff to say about her form teacher that I won't put in this blog (though maybe get her memoir to find out what she thought of him - he doesn't sound nice) before saying of that teacher that "at a PTA meeting he told my parents he thought I was a bit slow. This was news to my parents, so they bravely came down to discuss it with Mr Herring. Mr Herring told them that he knew me and that I was far from being slow. He was aware I was a great reader, and said he would do what he could to help. And he did. In our next, final, year, he gave me the plum job of "school librarian" and as a result I worked with him a lot in my final year, sitting in his office covering books, and putting shelves in order with him at lunchtime. He used this time to extend my reading range and encourage me to be more adventurous in my choices. It was just wonderful to learn from him. It was also wonderful to have complete access to the school library, at playtime and lunchtime!
After Green Lane, I went to Middlesbrough Girls High School, and in due course got various degrees and became an academic. I had full time jobs at the University of Singapore, National University of Singapore, and University of Leeds, before retiring in 2009 and coming to Australia."
She does admit there was some corporal punishment, but the boys who had it administered saw it as a badge of honour and it was never very hard. As with her assessment of her teacher, these were very different times, but I cannot imagine my kind grandad (or indeed my dad, who was also a head at the time of corporal punishment) would have wanted to harm children.
Anyway, very nice to get this email that goes some way to restoring my lovely grandad's reputation. I love it when the blog throws up little nuggets like this. Good to know that grandad's pupils are still out there, still thinking of him and what a fucking dude he was for encouraging this girl, who the other teacher had sort to demean.
She also included a photo. My grandad is on the left and Anthea is seated in the middle of the second row, wearing a belt. She points out that Bob Mortimer's older brother Jonathan is second from the right in the back row. I don't think my grandad was Bob's headmaster (he must have been quite close to retirement in 1961 when this was taken), but it's also lovely to have this connection between Bob and me.
I sent Bob the photo which he seemed to like. And I sent it to my dad too. Who I think will be glad to have his own dad's reputation restored.
My grandad was also very encouraging towards my writing and comedy ambitions and lent me money in the early 90s to buy a word processor. He got to listen to my radio show Lionel Nimrod with his friends on Radio 4, which should have been a source of pride. But his friends did not enjoy it and one of them commented, "What a waste of a good education." Which I am sure made my grandad feel sad. I am sorry I didn't give him a moment of triumph. People are pricks. Why not just pretend to like your friend's grandkid's show? Idiot. Just cos your rubbish grandkids weren't on Radio 4. Jealous much?
