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When school was strict and earnest and full of formal exercises

GLENN HASZARD has been looking into life at school (by which every one meant primary school) in New Zealand 100 years ago. It was an austere world. Miss Eula Moore recollects what her mother, Annie Barker, told her about school in the 1880 s.

There is’ growing interest in New Zealand in the history of its schools. Part of this interest arises from the realisation in the last few years that evidence of the old days is becoming hard to find. Slates; for instance, which were common a century ago, are now almos t gone. Many . -schools have either just had or will soon have their centenaries.' These.. events prompt amateur historians to. search ' their libraries and the memories of old timers' to, piece together the historical, jigsaw.. A good reason, for looking at the. past is to pro vide a standard by which

present methods of teaching can be judged. What was school really like 100 years ago in New Zealand?' - Research into the history of education has drawn a pretty bleak picture of children sitting as quiet as mice on forms with no back rests, crowded together in cold, dark and dingy classrooms with 80 or more pupils per teacher, made to recite tables,. chant spelling words, learn poetry, history and geography by heart, and obliged to follow demanding standards of neatness and style in their writing. Typical of the early

State schools in Christchurch was the one called Gloucester . Street, now Christchurch East. It was a. two-storey building facing south, which meant that all the corridors, received the sun while the classrooms had the cold winds. The large draughty rooms had very high windows — too high for children to be distracted ■ by passing traffic (horse- , drawn buggies and saddle ponies). Miss Eula Moore, of central Christchurch, has some recollections of'what her mother, Annie Barker, told her about school in the 1880 s.

Annie -Barker was educated at Gloucester Street school, becoming a pupil teacher there and later a teacher.

Miss Moore: “When the class marched in, there was quite a clatter as the steps were climbed to the various levels of the room. On the command of ‘Forms in’ the end children took hold of the long form, the rest stepped forward until touching the desks, the form was lifted into ' place, not always quietly, and the class sat and folded arms on the desk.

“Keeping the inside of desks clean was a problem. The smell that exuded was often unpleasant, especially if an apple core had been left to rot or a slate rag had not been washed for weeks,” said Miss Moore.

She conceded that there was a regimental discipline in the schools, some of it unavoidable. “With 80 children in a class a teacher had to be regimental. There couldn’t be much freedom of movement.

“But it wasn't all solid work. Out of school the children made their own pastimes — playing at the river being very popular. “The children were obedient, but I don’t think they were cowed. Truancy officers did not come until later; so that those who went to school probably wanted to.” Miss Moore said that children were often kept in after school; this was not so much to scold or punish as to give extra help in an endeavour to raise the standard of end-of-year results and ensure a good percentage of passes. Social promotion had not been heard of 100 years ago.

She spoke of school chores: “A Friday afternoon ritual was the filling of the ink wells for the next week. This dirty job was usually awarded to ink monitors. The ‘good’ pupils left the china well tops nice and clean but

the majority let the ink stains remain all the time. “The monitors collected the ink wells into large trays to take them outside, or if the weather was bad, into the draughty corridors. There they were emptied of remaining ink, accumulated bits of rubber, rubber dust, wads of blotting paper, broken nibs" and other debris. After being rinsed in cold water they were drained.

“While two monitors were doing this, a third went to the headmaster and collected a can of ink made from powder and water. The ink wells were then re-filled; and, if they had not been well drained, it was a very pale brew for the next week.

“But the pale ink had some compensations. Blots in the work did not look quite so bad, or alternatively blots rubbed out more easily and the result was less likely to leave a hole, in the paper — that crime of crimes,” said Miss Moore. The Christchurch winter brought special problems for the children and teachers. But, as Miss Moore relates, they had some ingenious ways of overcoming the cold. When the assembly bell rang, the classes ran around the playground several times to get warm before entering the cold buildings. “One popular way of keeping hands warm was to carry a.heated stone in the pocket. Smooth-river-bed stones that fitted comfortably into the hands were warmed in the oven or on top of the coal range while the children ate their breakfasts. “As they left for school the lucky ones who had caring mothers took a hot stone in each pocket, said Miss Moore. “It was surprising how long these hand-warmers retained their heat.”

They also warmed up by chanting spelling and verse, huddling together on their long forms. Long passages of poetry and speeches from plays

were learnt by heart. Apparently the rhythmn had an appeal. Children were made to enunciate clearly — especially the classes taught by teachedrs brought out from England.

The syllabus was detailed and demanding. Set levels of attainment had to. be. reached each year before a pupil could pass on to the next standard. Passing into the next standard was determined by school inspectors appointed under the Education Act of 1877, which made education free, secular and compulsory. “The syllabus itself breathed an,,' abstract, bookish intellectualism from cover to cover and its approach throughout was austerely logical,” wrote the educational historian, A. E. Campbell. “Far from taking as a starting point the interests and experience of the children themselves, it succeeded to an astonishing degree in isolating facts from any human context whatsoever.” The annual visit of the inspector had some undesirable results. It led to judging schools and teachers by the percentage of passes in examinations. Many children had to repeat their year’s work because they had failed their examinations; and the pressure on the young, poorly trained teachers to obtain passes led to “ques-

tion-spotting,” ruses and subterfuge. As the inspector’s visit grew nearer, pupils were kept in longer and longer, often rehearsing the lesson that would be given for the inspector’s benefit. But most inspector’s saw through the facade. They grew critical in their reports of the practice of memorising answers to questions. Children were able to answer questions if they were phrased in the same way as the teacher phrased them, but if a new problem on the facts were put to them they frequently could not work it out. As an inducement for good attendance, pupils were awarded attendance certificates. But, even then, only from 50 to 80 per cent of pupils attended school. Others lived too far away or were needed at home. In spite of the edict that schooling should be compulsory, the authorities were very reluctant to enforce compulsory attendance. When a school committee found that a child had been absent for more than half a year it might send a notice calling upon the parent to comply with the law. If this failed it might summon the parent to appear before two justices of the peace, who might issue an order to the parent to send’ the child to school. But school committees seldom resorted to such measures, perhaps in most cases they knew the parents too closely. There were no fixed annual school holidays. Instead, each community had its own school break depending on the harvest time or other community work. For a few pupils who were successful at school and whose parents supported further education, there were, in 1980, a number, of secondary schools. For even fewer there were the Otago and Canterbury University Colleges.

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19800531.2.110

Bibliographic details

Press, 31 May 1980, Page 15

Word Count
1,386

When school was strict and earnest and full of formal exercises Press, 31 May 1980, Page 15

When school was strict and earnest and full of formal exercises Press, 31 May 1980, Page 15

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