Skinner

Skinner

I looked at Mayfield Memories,

The other day, hoping to see

Pictures of old assemblies,

Particularly ones of me,

Alongside forgotten, school-mates,

Not seen since leaving the school gates,

In nineteen seventy seven,

On concluding year eleven,

Back when it was called, the fifth year

Seniors; but that’s to digress;

The point is, school had, more or less,

Trained me for a dead end career,

And three months later aged sixteen,

It felt as if I’d never been.

Anyway, I looked, as I said,

At Mayfield Memories, and saw…

Photos of teachers, some long dead,

Flanking the class of ‘fifty four;

Future fathers of pupils who

Possibly ended up there too;

Players of cricket and football,

But not one name could I recall,

Till I clicked on the final page,

And there, two old photos appeared:

Of a teacher, seemingly revered,

By pupils of that bygone age;

“Mr Skinner was “Hard but fair”,

Twenty years before I was there.

His middle-aged face, in the more

Recent snapshot put me in mind

Of the time, when the classroom door

Burst open and he, in a blind

Rage, grabbed me by the collar and

Slapped me, with the palm of his hand,

Hard (but not fair) across the face,

And, like a sadistic head-case,

Authorised to act as he would;

Dragged me, as if I was a sack,

Outside, whereat, he smashed the back

Of my head, as hard as he could,

Against the wall, as he spat out

Questions and knocked me about,

All the while, calling me a thief;

And, when I justly protested,

He turned angry-red, in disbelief;

Blatantly disinterested.

To cut a lengthy story short:

A pair of shorts, expensively bought,

Were stolen for a joke or game,

And Skinner, on hearing my name,

Entered the forementioned classroom,

Disregarded my innocence,

Subjected me to violence,

And, later, that same afternoon,

He, from lost property, retrieved,

The pair of shorts, I hadn't thieved.

My Mayfield Memories feature,

Corporal punishment severe,

Dealt by a rod-wielding teacher,

Who bullied, battered, ruled through fear,

Dished out constant verbal abuse,

And taught fuck-all of any use.

But Skinner was one of many;

Tyrants being two-a-penny,

At Mayfield, in the ‘seventies,

And the old school of ‘fifty four,

Were maybe more, prone to ignore

The vindictive activities

Of those tyrants; even the ones

Who ridiculed and beat their sons.

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