IF YOU GOT INTO TROUBLE AT SCHOOL MAYBE YOUR FUTURE ISN’T SO DOOMED AFTER ALL. THE HOT91 CREW RUFFLED A FEW FEATHERS IN THEIR DAY AND LOOK WHERE THEY’RE AT.
It was my first day of Year 1 and I got the paddle. Yeah, I know. Rough start, hey. Let me start from the beginning. Everything was going so well until morning tea.
The bell rang and we were let out of the class to eat lunch and play.
I called over my best mate Russell and told him of this awesome dog that I knew who lived up the road, so we decided that we’d quickly just pop up there to go pat him. We set off on our morning tea journey, which turned out to be longer than first thought.
In that time, (and what we didn’t realise) was the school had discovered we were missing, called the police and had the whole school out searching for me and Russ. Eventually we had enough of patting the pup and decided to return to school. Little did we know that Russ and I had actually been playing with the pooch for more than three hours.
Time goes fast when you’re playing in dog years.
We arrived back at the school and were met by the principal who took us to her office, spanked our bums with a wooden ruler. And that’s how I got the paddle on the first day of Year 1.
From then on in, I set the standard for my schooling report cards, which always stated that Dave is a “very sociable student”. The worst thing about getting in trouble at school was that my mum was the permanent tuckshop convenor and I’d have to walk past the tuckshop every time I was sent to the principal’s office.
Of course mum would see, so I’d get in trouble at school and then get a flogging when I got home too.
Can I start by saying I loved school. Year 1 to 5, I was at Mooloolaba State School where shoes were optional and outdoor activities included trips to the beach.
The most you could get in trouble for was running on concrete, which did result in a few whacks around the back of the legs with a ruler.
Then my parents sat me down and told me about a new school that was starting up in Buderim, a private school.
A school where shoes were definitely not optional. This didn’t sound good. It probably won’t surprise you that I did get into considerable trouble at Matthew Flinders, one incident sticks out. I remember kissing a girl in the locker area; for the sake of this column let’s call her Amy, (also because that was her name). Amy and I were sprung snogging and sent to Dorro’s (deputy principal Jamie Dorrington) office. Amy went in first and came out pale with fear in her eyes akin to someone who had just seen a Stephen King movie way too young. Then it was my turn. Dorro was fierce, a stern disciplinarian, but well respected. He was in no mood for hijinks and led off with rhetoric and school policy. He detailed the “30cm rule” and asked if I would be doing the same activity with a male classmate; somehow suggesting that if I wouldn’t snog a lad, I shouldn’t be snogging the ladies. To which I replied, “I am 15, sir, I haven’t worked that out yet”.
Veins started to pop and he turned a shade of red Dulux had yet to name. Like a bulldog who swallowed a wasp, he mumbled and gestured me to leave his office. I thought he was having a stroke but we never spoke of it again.
I would like to open this article by saying, “I was such a good girl at school”, and this week’s topic has totally stumped me. As my mum would be proud to say, “for all the right reasons”.
Ok, have I built this up enough yet? I’ve heard many stories of Dave and Sam getting in trouble every second week at school, or if you’re like Sam Coward, every second day. As much as I would love to tell you the story when Sam tried to singe a girls afro, I’ll leave that to him. Anyway, I digress.
The only time I really got in trouble at school was just about every day for talking. Yep, oh my God, you guessed it. Talking. I just couldn’t help it. My report card would read, “Ashlea is a very competent student, however, requires a little more effort in listening and of course, talking”. But, you already knew that.
This sort of similar comment appeared on my report card for a good 12 years. No matter how hard I tried to close my jabber-jaw. It just wanted to tell my friends how great it would be if Rachel or my bestie Breony could come over on the weekend for a slumber party, or how we were going to get our parents to say “yes” Would we spring it on them or would we plant the seed on a Monday and hope that by Friday it would all be sorted?
Some students went to uni or did an apprenticeship while I started my work experience at the age of six.
I believe my excessive talking has helped with my job as a radio announcer and I’m forever grateful. So, the message here kids is to go to school and just talk through Mrs Smith’s social studies class and then you’ll get a job on the radio.
I’m totally kidding, don’t do that.