The class of '61 that talented bunch from a secondary modern

Now when you spend your time digging deep into other people’s lives it is easy to neglect your own and those that have shaped the way you look at the world.

I was reminded of this during a long conversation with someone I last met in the July of 1966.

This was the year I left Samuel Pepys Secondary Modern School.

I was part of the class of ’61 which had left junior school having failed the eleven plus and was destined for an alternative education to the one offered to students who went to the grammar school.

There had been 180 of us back in the September of 1961 which had fallen way to just fifty or so by the beginning of our final year in what was then the fifth year .

Those that had left had taken advantage of the early school leaving policy which meant that could you say good bye to the playground, the books and morning assembly at the age of 15.

All of this was in keeping with the ethos of the secondary modern school which as its name suggests was a secondary or alternate route for those who had been judged nonacademic by that formal set of tests given out to all English and Welsh children in their final year in Junior School.

Not that any of us at the time I think felt that we were failures, that for me came much later.

At the time you just accepted this was your lot.  You left the junior school in the July and except for a hand full of the “gifted” turned up six weeks later in a uniform and joined another 150 or so youngsters.

Now over the years I was hard both on secondary schools and in particular Samuel Pepys, but on reflection they did a grand job with less resources than were allocated to the grammar schools and by the time I left were offering the same range of public examinations as their elite competitors.

So my conversation with Les was timely.

We began as you do remembering shared class mates and exploring the different paths our lives had taken.

And what came out was that simple truth that we were a talented bunch.  Some had gone on to become successful in business and public service while others had really only blossomed much later.

Les I discovered had been part of a band which had played support to the very best groups of the late 60s and early 70s and gone on to have a successful career in the city.

It was a salutatory lesson in confronting that inferiority complex which had dogged my years as a teacher.

Surrounded entirely by staff who came from grammar schools I suffered from being the only “secondary school boy” and while it may have been a self induced feeling of  inferiority it was real enough.

Real enough to make me wonder when the moment would come when I would be discovered masquerading as something I was not and shown the door.

All of which is a nonsense I know but is still there just under the surface, so I thank Les for reminding me that us secondary modern boys were not the also runs.

And in time I trust there will be more stories of the class of ’61.

Pictures, from the collection of Andrew Simpson