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'97-'98 was a period of Gothic insanity. I was ten. The class was learning about the Industrial Revolution in the North. Now, okay, there had always been weaving and so on, and that stepped up a notch in the late 17th century. But I ask you, what was going through the harridan's mind when she asked us to "write about the life of a 17th century Lancashire factory worker"?
There were no factories (apart from cannon workshops and shipbuilders and so on) in the 17th century! Certainly nothing north of Watford Gap. The Lancashire factories were a 19th century thing!
Faced with this illogical task (and the fact that our teacher was a monster who COULDST NOT BE QUESTIONED!!12!), some of us wrote about shipbuilders. Some of us wrote about weavers in cottages. Some of us wrote about farmers. We all got bollocked and she wouldn't bloody listen, no, she bloody wouldn't.
Later on in the year, she cracked. In maths, we had to write out the equation in pencil. Then check it. Then rub it out and write it again in pen. You had to do this before oyu moved on to the next one. There was one rubber on each table, and a table seating about 7 students. And we had to get through a whole page's worth of equations. And there was only one book. |
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