I was useless at maths but don’t call me stupid A

MY mostly light-hearted memories of childhood punishments at home and at school prompted Bronwen Cruickshank, of Hove Edge, Brighouse, to recall her own experiences.

Her younger brother Douglas managed to get caned on his very first day at Milnsbridge Junior and Infant School in the 1940s by the headmistress for disobeying school rules and climbing on top of the cinder pile.

“We had other teachers who would hit your hands with a ruler, throw board rubbers, chalk and anything else at hand,” she says.

(At my school, the woodwork teacher threw chisels).

Douglas also got the strap on his legs at home from his father, despite the protests of his mother.

“All these draconian punishments don’t seem to have had a lasting effect on him as he has turned out to be a reasonably normal adult,” says Bronwen.

The one time she was punished with a detention at Longley Hall Secondary Technical School turned into an unexpected ordeal for both her and a white mouse. She had taken the pet mouse to school for a dare and kept it in her desk. During detention, she held it in her pocket.

“As the hour slowly crept by, the poor mouse got sweaty and started nipping my hand making me jump, prompting the teacher to keep asking me if I was alright.”

When released at home: “The mouse looked like a punk rocker as all its fur was wet and standing up But algebra was too much like cryptic crossword puzzles and geometry was expressionist art with a pointy bit on a compass for sticking into other boys.

I have yet to fathom out an everyday use for the quantum theory of anything.

My lack of mathematical nous was down to either me being thick, my maths teacher being thick or, by far the most equitable reason, that the subject had as much appeal as being hit over the head with a cricket bat.

Now research from Queen’s University Belfast has acknowledged that those of us unable to master maths may be suffering from a previously undiagnosed Specific Learning Disorder known as dyscalculia, which is for numbers what dyslexia is for words.

Mind you, suffering from dyscalculia didn’t affect my career choices as I never wanted to be an accountant.

All I have to do now is learn how to pronounce it when explaining my early age disaffection with algorithms and the calculus of variations.

It’s also good to know that I – and thousands like me – are not necessarily thick. in spikes. Fortunately it didn’t seem to suffer any lasting effects from its ordeal and lived a normal lifespan. This was probably worth a full detention itself. Luckily the RSPCA did not become involved.”

Bronwen disciplined her own children by sending them to their room. Four-year-old Zoe was dispatched there for being naughty. “A few minutes later I heard footsteps coming down the stairs, followed by a note being pushed under the living room door which read: I hate you, mummy. Love Zoe.” The forgiveness of children. Corporal punishment is now outlawed in UK schools and the Association of Educational Psychologists also want it banned at home. They say it is harmful to children’s mental health.

As someone who lived through those “draconian” years, a ban sounds sensible to me. Research from Queen’s University Belfast has acknowledged that those of us unable to master maths may be suffering from a previously undiagnosed Specific Learning Disorder known as dyscalculia My lack of mathematical nous was down to me being thick or the subject having as much appeal as being hit over the head with a cricket bat.