I make no apologies for the length of the following post. Those who know me will also know that I find it impossible to condense into one sentence that which can happily be drawn out over ten. And, after all, it covers twelve years of my life. I had copies printed for all staff, but now understand that it will not be possible to give them out, and with no opportunity to say goodbye to colleagues and friends I have worked with for all this time, posting on here is the only option left to me.
To all staff
As many of you will know by now, after 31st August 2006 I shall no longer be a member of staff at Marton School. I thought I would be at Marton until the day I retired, but in the end it was not to be.
I really would like to thank all those people who have been so sympathetic and supportive to me over the past eighteen months, by visiting, phoning, sending emails, texts, letters and cards. Along with the support of my family and friends outside school, your kindness and understanding has made a huge difference to me, at a time in my life when I needed it most. It will never be forgotten.
As I sat down to write this, I started to look back (as I have done frequently over the last year or so) and think about the twelve years I spent teaching at Marton – the ups and downs, the challenges and achievements, the funny and sad times – all valuable life experiences and ones which I will take with me into the future. I thought my own memories might bring back memories for some of you, particularly those of you who knew me and worked with me over many years. I started to jot them down, and the list just grew and grew – very much like the tales of life in the Reidy household, that some of you will be familiar with. This is not the definitive list, but it’s a starting point, and it’s also my way of drawing a line under my time at Marton:
In school
• My arrival on my first day, being welcomed by Miranda – a friendly face, offering me tea and helping me to settle in.
• The kindness of everybody in that first term, when I was covering SEN, and Curriculum Release. I was made so welcome in every classroom, and I learnt a lot about different teaching styles. There wasn’t one classroom where I didn’t feel admiration and respect for the staff.
• The feeling I had, right from the beginning, that Marton was different from other schools. Marton’s philosophy seemed to be totally in tune with my own – something I had never experienced before.
• Seeing Lynn and Jo juggling so many tasks, yet remaining calm and professional.
• The colleagues who became such good friends over the years, and those I have got to know, trust and appreciate even more this past year.
• The support staff who worked with me in each class – the good relationships we established, and the laughs we shared.
• The children in every class I taught – how, like a mother hen, I became protective of even the “naughty” ones, if I thought we were under threat (although that didn’t stop them driving me mad at other times)!
• Telling the children stories that I made up as I went along - The Magic Conker, the swimming pool story – and seeing their faces as they listened intently, wide-eyed and rolling on the floor with laughter, as they heard about another adventure. The children who had moved on, but came back to ask if I still had my magic conker.
• Derek, Mojo and Polo, the puppets that lived in my classroom, and came to life at night when the children had gone home.
• The carrot that looked like a pair of legs – and the stories woven round it – Bernie rigging up some cotton pulley system by the classroom window, in order to dangle the legs outside.
• The restrained laughter over something a child had said or done. Trying to keep a straight face in front of the other children, but collapsing with laughter once outside the classroom, or safely in the staffroom.
• Lisa Thorne gathering children for school photos – a feat of planning and organisation, staying calm despite all obstacles.
• Cross Country in Year 6 – Bev leading the way, and me bringing up the rear, complete with panting, red-faced, unfit pupils.
• The class assemblies, which were a pain to organise, but great fun on the day.
• The parents, many of whom became friends over the years. Those parents who were an invaluable help in the classroom, working with the children, cutting out the never-ending supply of letters, putting up displays, in fact, doing many jobs that saved me hours of time.
• The parents who have also contacted me since I have been off sick, to offer their support and sympathy.
• The parents who came in with complaints. As a parent myself, I always tried to look at things from their side - and we usually managed to come to some sort of compromise and work together for a common cause, in the end.
• My year group partners – I enjoyed working with every team (with one exception, and she’s now the other side of the world – it must have been bad!). I loved to see how teams bonded and we all became protective and defensive of one another if feeling under threat.
• The Therapy Cupboard (which doubled as a Slimming Club) – weighing scales on the floor and chocolate on the shelf. The tears that were shed in that cupboard, and the friendships that were sealed.
• Chats and laughs with Bernie before and after school.
• Putting the world to rights with Romay and Debbie on our lunchtime “power walks”.
• Little chats with June in the office – comparing notes about our own children, and sympathising with each other.
• Designing and making ERIC with Linda from Palatine. The poor children who suffered from cement burns – and their parents who were very understanding!
• Designing and making the Millennium Display – all children contributing portraits of themselves on pebbles – and having fun, finding their own when it was all complete.
• Teaching the children about designing the stained glass windows, and then seeing their faces as the chosen windows were installed.
• Book Weeks – being dressed as Mrs Wobble (complaining about the food in the pub at lunchtime, forgetting what I looked like!), Dennis the Menace and Noddy. Lynn dressed as a rabbit, seriously telling off a child.
• The Art Exhibition in school, with work from every child on display. The sale of those “works of art” to proud parents.
• The t-shirt designs done by every child (and the hilarious ones displayed in the staffroom for staff).
• Winning the Seasiders Exhibition with our “Beside the Seaside” quilt, and attending the presentation with a group of proud children.
• Organising charity events .
• European Week – dreading the organisation which fell to me, but enjoying the week when it finally arrived.
• The parades around the playground for those who were getting married – and Lynn’s final parade, on a bike, pedalled furiously by James Hardy.
• The children singing certain hymns – and the Marton Song – it never failed to bring tears to my eyes.
• Notes, letters and cards from the children, and the older pupils who returned to say, “hallo”, not quite able to break the ties from Marton.
• Lynn’s final assembly.
In the staffroom at breaks and lunchtimes
• The banter. Julie Hall telling a tale about some mishap, complete with all voices, everybody in fits of laughter.
• Discussions about Big Brother or Coronation Street or some weird and whacky, hardly believable, documentary.
• The newspaper article about B. Alderson and her second job as a Painter and Decorator (complete with picture of the 3-wheeler Reliant Robin she supposedly used), and everybody else in school with second jobs. I have such a strong memory of coming into the staffroom and seeing Cathy Brown and Gill Pearce bent double with laughter.
• Chats with Chris Horsfall and Jean Harrison about our children’s weddings – and other problems!
• Falling out over the dishwasher – and making up again.
• Quiet chats with Julia in a more serious vein.
• Taking my responsibilities as Fridge Monitor very seriously – naming and shaming those who dared to leave food to rot, and clearing the fridge with relish on the last day of every term (along with Lynn as Deputy Fridge Monitor – the only time I was her boss!).
• Volunteering to be Fruit Monitor, and dealing with the ensuing flak.
• The catalogue of disasters about the Reidy Christmas break to Lanzarote (it was so bad people asked for additional copies to take home).
• Tales of a disastrous skiing holiday with the Reidys. Again, I can see Gill’s face, roaring with laughter.
• The Marton Quotes book – started by Penny and me.
• The Hairstyles from Hell board - only those brave enough dared to display.
And away from school
The “Girls’ Friday Nights In” – such good chats and laughs in a relaxed atmosphere, at somebody’s house – I couldn’t believe my luck in working with such a good group of people. I held three or four of these evenings at my house – open invitation, all welcome. A great bonding experience, and much cheaper than any corporate teambuilding INSET.
• Friday lunchtimes in The Welcome or The Highfield (or wherever we hadn’t complained the week before). Most people tagged along – and we even got June out a couple of times.
• Christmas nights out. Staying at Ribby Hall in a chalet and acting like teenagers, getting dressed up, doing our hair and makeup.
• PGL, Tower Wood, Borwick Hall – all great character building experiences. And again, so many challenges, so many laughs: Carol and the M & Ms, room inspections, teachers’ quiz nights.
• Rollerblading at Stanley Park with Year 6 – back to the skills of my childhood.
• School visits – hard work but rewarding. Daedalian Glass, The Harris Museum, The Science Museum, The Natural History Museum, The Maritime Museum at Lancaster.
• Celebrations - the engagements and weddings of younger members of staff – followed by the births of babies.
• The great 30 40 50 birthday party for Miranda, Cathy and me – where we filled the Hospital Social Club and had a brilliant night.
• The ceilidh (strictly speaking, not out of school, but held in the school hall on a Saturday night). A fantastic night, enjoyed by staff, past and present, where the drink flowed and the dancing never stopped. Dave, managing to embarrass me, as always, by drawing glasses on all the staff photos just before we left for home. Luckily Lynn saw the funny side….and sent him an official looking letter, telling him he would have to pay for the damage.
Above all, I remember laughter: people used to say that they knew where to find me by following the sound of my raucous laugh. I really do miss the times that evoked that laughter.
So many memories, so many good times. I hope these are the memories that stay with me in the future, and not those from the past year. I could go on and on, but I know I have to stop at some point. I suppose this must be that point.
Being at Marton was the proudest and happiest time in my teaching career.
If you want to, please stay in touch.
Jill
Tracey
i don't see how you have any apologies to make Mrs.Reidy. I feel incredibly sad that my child will not be a part of someones memories as previous pupils have with you. This saddens me greatly, my child has wonderful and enjoyable experiences at school, but that is due to her friends and those who have direct contact with her. I don't have great faith in a lot of aspects of the atmosphere at school, surely this is something which should be addressed. By pulling everyone together, not ripping those who have been the heart and soul out and leaving everyone feeling vulnerable. I am glad you have fantastic memories, you deserve them. Let us hope in years to come future staff will be able to say the same.
WAYNE HEYS
Memories
Mrs Reidy.. though I only knew you from afar whilsy my children were at Marton, I must say that you have brought back many memories for us parents, to which we have not refered to previously. Your post will be full of mixed emotion for many people.
Personally, whilst I read your post,I felt a mixture of pride,happiness and last of all sorrow, you summed up just what it meant to be associated with Marton Primary School.
There were indeed a sense of pride in OUR school,and you (along with others) gave the school the reputation it so readily deserved. Some of the names you mention have been forgotten, though very quickly come to the fore of ones mind.
Like Tracey has said above,the school is having its heart ripped out of it, this is why I, and many others will not simply walk away now our children have left.
Only last year I found myself wildly hugging a male teacher due to the success of the children at Marton, our team were underdogs,yet the Marton spirit came through and our boys were champions. THIS WAS A MOMENT I WILL NEVER FORGET,NOT FOR ME, BUT FOR ALL THOSE BOYS WHO EXCEDED THERE ABILITY LEVELS WHEN IT MATTERED,and make no mistake they were VERY PROUD to come from Marton.
So finally I would like to pass on my best wishes to you and your family for the future, its a shame that Marton has lost another dedicated professional teacher, who always put the well being and education of the kids before any personal ambitions !!!!!!
Jill Reidy
Tracey, without a surname, I'm sorry if I don't recognise you, but it seems that you know me. I am assuming you are one of the many parents I had contact with over the years.
Mr Heys, I do remember you - mainly for your enthusiasm for the school football teams! I remember you giving up your time to come into Marton to help train the boys. I also had the pleasure of teaching your son, Matthew, in year 3, and remember meeting you and your wife at Parents' Evenings.
Thank you to both of you for your kind words and good wishes for the future - it's much appreciated.
mary
I have known Mrs Reidy for many years, as she taught my grandchildren at various times. I am sure she will remember me.
I have been greatly saddened by the events of this last year or so, not least because I remember Marton as the school that Mrs Reidy describes in her post, "looking back".
I would like to wish Mrs Reidy (and Mrs Alderson) all the best for the future and hope that their careers get back on track, as they so richly deserve.
