Another Article from the 1995 Mitre

      As I racked my brain over how to begin this article I looked up the word "nostalgia" in my dictionary. It said "A longing for past events". That certainly would not have been my interpretation of the word!

      I don't think that any of us would actually like to go back to our school days. Our fickle minds recall the deep insecurities we had with laughter and we thankfully forget how painfully self-conscience we were most of the time. The constant crimson face when anyone over the age of twenty asked a direct question of you in the middle of a classroom full of giggling youngsters who were only too relieved that it was you and not them being made to look a complete idiot.

      It was definitely not "fun" lying awake at night worrying yourself sick because you had mislaid your school hat...(I was going to say "My bra" but as most of us are now over fifty, too much nostalgia can bring on heart failure and besides I didn't start wearing a bra until I was married!) ...in the vicinity of the football field during the Dark and, oh so romantic, evenings when work was the last thing on our minds. It was vital to retrieve it before anyone handed it in..... (Jealousy can turn anyone of us into a Judas!) .... there was no point in denying it was yours as the evidence was always so damning when held up in the middle of morning prayers. My Mother, Mr. Pott and "Cash's" name tapes made sure any item of mine didn't stray too far.

      Nostalgia... Do you remember "Prep" periods at Ingoldisthorpe, the quietness of the old house as the darkness seemed to mellow it and where many so called "love affairs" were started or rather brutally ended with the passing of a carefully placed note on your desk. 

      Do you remember how you quite literally prayed that Mr. Pott would not choose your classroom to sit in for the evening "Prep" and if by some awful quirk of fate your prayers went unanswered how you would do your best to merge into the background and avoid, at all costs, catching his eye in case he asked you to bring your book for inspection. 

      How terrifying it was to stand in that line by his desk hoping that the bell would sound before you reached the front of the line and the tension in your body made you shuffle like a dummy until you were standing within striking distance, and then nervously you placed your ink stained book in front of him, again praying that he would not find anything wrong with the contents and destroy all your efforts with one stroke of his pen, or worst still, hurling the book across the classroom where you had the added humiliation of retrieving it. 

      I am sure that incontinence was first discovered during those "Prep" evenings! Yet, if he praised you, the warm glow stayed in your heart until the next time you were caught.
I read this quote recently, "To have memories you have to have someone from your past who can confirm them". How true that is. 

      All of you are my past and I yours in some small way and when we meet each year that same warm glow returns and stays with me until the next time, it truly is a real live trip back into my childhood days and for me true unadulterated nostalgia for just a few wonderful hours.... but please God, don't let me have to do it all again!

Felicity Cole