A Selection of Stories from the Book
Below are several stories from the book. They are chosen somewhat arbitrarily, but I think give a good impression of the flavour of what the book is about, and how life proceeded on a daily basis within the one-room school. Some of the stories are also wonderfully hand-illustrated by two good friends of mine, Mia Overduin and Adell Hay, and I have included some of the drawings in the gallery.
I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed writing them.
Betsy Clarke
Former teacher Betsy Clarke ponders thoughtfully over report cards and photos from her eight years at S.S. No. 2 Fitzroy with a reminiscent twinkle in her eye. “To say there have been changes in the primary education system is a huge under-statement”, she quietly reflects.
When she first started school in 1946, her teacher was her 19-year-old cousin, Eleanor Serson, who had the arduous task of simultaneously organizing thirty Grade 1-8 students while coping with limited resources: a wood stove, no electricity or running water, and a washroom that was an outhouse across the school yard. For the young teacher, it was truly sink or swim.
In a one-room school, pupils learned to work independently while the teacher worked with other grades. Helping younger ones with their lessons steered Betsy toward a teaching career, which began at Laurentian High School. She remembers that students were expected to complete their assignments on time. “They were not wrapped in cotton wool back then; if they couldn’t keep up they repeated a grade, but if they learned quickly they were pushed ahead.” The fear of failure often drove children to do well; a critical
element which she says is missing in today’s ‘fail-free’ environment.
Kids were also more physically active. Most students lived on farms and did chores in the morning and evenings. They had to walk one mile or more to get to class, and during the day they would cart wood from the woodshed and water from a neighbouring farm so the school was well stocked. “It didn’t hurt anyone to carry two pails”, Betsy quips.
Betsy is obviously an ardent supporter of early teaching methods and attitudes in one-room schoolhouses, and has the broad experience to back up her opinions. She believes the teaching profession was a ‘noble’ one in the 1960s, where students were encouraged to help others and also work on their own. They were given lots of responsibility, which taught them a sense of community spirit, and even though there are more resources in the schools these days, the system itself is none-the-better for it. From what she says, it does indeed seem that the changes in the primary education system cannot be overstated.
When she first started school in 1946, her teacher was her 19-year-old cousin, Eleanor Serson, who had the arduous task of simultaneously organizing thirty Grade 1-8 students while coping with limited resources: a wood stove, no electricity or running water, and a washroom that was an outhouse across the school yard. For the young teacher, it was truly sink or swim.
In a one-room school, pupils learned to work independently while the teacher worked with other grades. Helping younger ones with their lessons steered Betsy toward a teaching career, which began at Laurentian High School. She remembers that students were expected to complete their assignments on time. “They were not wrapped in cotton wool back then; if they couldn’t keep up they repeated a grade, but if they learned quickly they were pushed ahead.” The fear of failure often drove children to do well; a critical
element which she says is missing in today’s ‘fail-free’ environment.
Kids were also more physically active. Most students lived on farms and did chores in the morning and evenings. They had to walk one mile or more to get to class, and during the day they would cart wood from the woodshed and water from a neighbouring farm so the school was well stocked. “It didn’t hurt anyone to carry two pails”, Betsy quips.
Betsy is obviously an ardent supporter of early teaching methods and attitudes in one-room schoolhouses, and has the broad experience to back up her opinions. She believes the teaching profession was a ‘noble’ one in the 1960s, where students were encouraged to help others and also work on their own. They were given lots of responsibility, which taught them a sense of community spirit, and even though there are more resources in the schools these days, the system itself is none-the-better for it. From what she says, it does indeed seem that the changes in the primary education system cannot be overstated.
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Morley Craig
When it came to schooling, Morley Craig was far from the ideal student. Unmotivated and indifferent to what his teachers had to say, he was nevertheless an intelligent and resourceful fellow when it came to matters outside of the classroom.
Growing up, his family owned a store in Carsonby where the Phelan School (S.S. No. 11 North Gower) students would purchase school supplies. Morley remembers watching older children ripping out pages from their notebooks, rolling crumbled leaves in them and trying unsuccessfully to smoke the harsh homemade cigarettes in the school woodshed.
When Morley started school in 1936, his father, Collingwood, donated a piano for the children’s music classes. Morley rarely practised and would always play “Little Drops of Water, Little Grains of Sand” until his teacher, Margaret Mann, told him he would have to learn a more difficult piece.
In the same year, hydro was installed in the area, much to Morley’s delight. He discovered that with careful sanding, the metal circles cut from electrical outlet boxes (the ‘knockouts’) were the exact size of a nickel and worked perfectly to get a free drink from the pop machine at the local store.
Any type of distraction in class was always a welcome relief, so when a woodpecker would stop by to peck a hole at the back of the school and disrupt Miss Mann’s lesson, it always made Morley happy – not least because he couldn’t be blamed for the commotion.
His high school in North Gower only had two rooms, so it was a shock when he attended the much larger Lisgar High School for Grade 13. Music helped him fit in however, and he was thrilled to play trombone in the school band that followed Barbara Ann Scott’s parade after her 1948 Olympic gold medal. He had come a long way since his early piano playing days.
Despite failing several subjects, Morley managed to get into Normal School where he also failed, but still obtained a permit to teach, as there was a shortage of teachers in the Province. After two years of burning the midnight oil, marking papers for fifty students at Fenelon Falls, near Lindsay, Morley terminated his teaching career and found a job as a National Defense munitions inspector for more money and less effort.
Growing up, his family owned a store in Carsonby where the Phelan School (S.S. No. 11 North Gower) students would purchase school supplies. Morley remembers watching older children ripping out pages from their notebooks, rolling crumbled leaves in them and trying unsuccessfully to smoke the harsh homemade cigarettes in the school woodshed.
When Morley started school in 1936, his father, Collingwood, donated a piano for the children’s music classes. Morley rarely practised and would always play “Little Drops of Water, Little Grains of Sand” until his teacher, Margaret Mann, told him he would have to learn a more difficult piece.
In the same year, hydro was installed in the area, much to Morley’s delight. He discovered that with careful sanding, the metal circles cut from electrical outlet boxes (the ‘knockouts’) were the exact size of a nickel and worked perfectly to get a free drink from the pop machine at the local store.
Any type of distraction in class was always a welcome relief, so when a woodpecker would stop by to peck a hole at the back of the school and disrupt Miss Mann’s lesson, it always made Morley happy – not least because he couldn’t be blamed for the commotion.
His high school in North Gower only had two rooms, so it was a shock when he attended the much larger Lisgar High School for Grade 13. Music helped him fit in however, and he was thrilled to play trombone in the school band that followed Barbara Ann Scott’s parade after her 1948 Olympic gold medal. He had come a long way since his early piano playing days.
Despite failing several subjects, Morley managed to get into Normal School where he also failed, but still obtained a permit to teach, as there was a shortage of teachers in the Province. After two years of burning the midnight oil, marking papers for fifty students at Fenelon Falls, near Lindsay, Morley terminated his teaching career and found a job as a National Defense munitions inspector for more money and less effort.
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Jim Armstrong
In the rural classroom, getting the children to master basic literacy skills was always foremost in the schoolteacher’s mind. Jim remembers practising his penmanship hour after hour, making straight lines and then crossing them to make ‘telephone poles’ until he had it down to a ‘T’. He would have to spell or read aloud regularly with strong emphasis on correct grammar, a seemingly dying tradition in the modern cyber-world. Rewards were simple but effective; a red star from the teacher earned high praise both in class and at home.
In 1955, Jim began Grade 1 with Mrs. Finley from Kinburn at S.S. No. 5 Fitzroy, where his father previously attended from 1913-1921. Originally called the White School, it was located on Carry Side Road with about a dozen families making up the roster, many of whom still reside locally. Jim and his cousin, Colleen Armstrong Hummel, were the only two in their grade for most of their elementary schooling. Mrs. Kennedy from Woodlawn, Hilda Boucher Nisbitt, and Brenda Taylor - who was hired by Jim’s father, a trustee - were their other teachers.
One advantage of the one-room schoolhouse was the ability of the younger children to learn ‘above their grade’. Jim enjoyed listening to the senior science lessons despite seeing a younger lad’s tooth snapped off during an experiment with a magnet and string. He wasn’t as musically inclined though; the itinerant music teacher, Dan McCuan, took the school choir to Christ Church Cathedral in Ottawa, where Jim became part of the first ‘air band’ when he was asked to mouth the words, as he couldn’t sing to save his soul.
At noon hour, the children would escape into the bush off school property or go skating on the creek, and often the teacher would have to hunt for them when they didn’t hear the bell. Jim still marvels at the massive job it was for his teachers to organize eight grades at once, and it was mostly due to their efforts
that a large number of students went on to post secondary education. Jim himself made full use of his literacy skills, completing an engineering degree from Queen’s University, and is the current president of the Fitzroy Historical Society.
In 1955, Jim began Grade 1 with Mrs. Finley from Kinburn at S.S. No. 5 Fitzroy, where his father previously attended from 1913-1921. Originally called the White School, it was located on Carry Side Road with about a dozen families making up the roster, many of whom still reside locally. Jim and his cousin, Colleen Armstrong Hummel, were the only two in their grade for most of their elementary schooling. Mrs. Kennedy from Woodlawn, Hilda Boucher Nisbitt, and Brenda Taylor - who was hired by Jim’s father, a trustee - were their other teachers.
One advantage of the one-room schoolhouse was the ability of the younger children to learn ‘above their grade’. Jim enjoyed listening to the senior science lessons despite seeing a younger lad’s tooth snapped off during an experiment with a magnet and string. He wasn’t as musically inclined though; the itinerant music teacher, Dan McCuan, took the school choir to Christ Church Cathedral in Ottawa, where Jim became part of the first ‘air band’ when he was asked to mouth the words, as he couldn’t sing to save his soul.
At noon hour, the children would escape into the bush off school property or go skating on the creek, and often the teacher would have to hunt for them when they didn’t hear the bell. Jim still marvels at the massive job it was for his teachers to organize eight grades at once, and it was mostly due to their efforts
that a large number of students went on to post secondary education. Jim himself made full use of his literacy skills, completing an engineering degree from Queen’s University, and is the current president of the Fitzroy Historical Society.
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Jan Wilson
Jan and her siblings David, Rick, Earl and Judy, continued a long family tradition of attending S.S. No. 13 Lanark in Hopetown in the early 1960s. Jan’s teachers at the school were Dorothy Hands and Beverley Smith, but when student numbers increased, she was transferred to Herron’s Mills School (S.S. No. 5 Lanark) with Joan White, Vera Montgomery and Mrs. Closs for Grades 5 through 8.
School life was a daily struggle between order and chaos. With teachers constantly fighting to maintain discipline, they handed out the strap with alarming regularity, so the children would cake their hands with soap to give them some protection. In response to the excessive punitive measures, they threw Kleenex spitballs at the blackboard when the teacher’s back was turned, planted snakes in her desk or laid tacks on her chair. It seems that the use of corporal punishment was an ineffective deterrent.
Without yard supervision, playtime sometimes became a little boisterous. Disputes were often settled in ‘old school’ style by fighting, and the boys would tease the girls with grass snakes, although bigger children were very protective of the little ones. Despite the scuffles, games of Tag, Anti-I-Over and Baseball helped resolve issues and teach cooperation.
Each year, Jan looked forward to wearing a new outfit at the Christmas concert, performing various skits and songs together with her classmates. One year she brought down the house with her solo performance of “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth”. The cruel irony was not lost on the young and toothless Jan.
To celebrate the end of the school year in June, S.S. No. 13 Lanark would be joined by neighbouring schools Middleville, Bulloch and Herron’s Mills at the Middleville fairgrounds. The day’s events included the sack race, the 3-legged race, and the wheelbarrow race, and a picnic for the hungry competitors provided the perfect end to a fun-filled afternoon.
Close relationships developed between Jan and her friends in the one-room schoolhouses, so it was a huge transition when they transferred to the large high school in Perth with 1200 students. Most went on to successful careers and often return to the area to maintain their childhood friendships.
School life was a daily struggle between order and chaos. With teachers constantly fighting to maintain discipline, they handed out the strap with alarming regularity, so the children would cake their hands with soap to give them some protection. In response to the excessive punitive measures, they threw Kleenex spitballs at the blackboard when the teacher’s back was turned, planted snakes in her desk or laid tacks on her chair. It seems that the use of corporal punishment was an ineffective deterrent.
Without yard supervision, playtime sometimes became a little boisterous. Disputes were often settled in ‘old school’ style by fighting, and the boys would tease the girls with grass snakes, although bigger children were very protective of the little ones. Despite the scuffles, games of Tag, Anti-I-Over and Baseball helped resolve issues and teach cooperation.
Each year, Jan looked forward to wearing a new outfit at the Christmas concert, performing various skits and songs together with her classmates. One year she brought down the house with her solo performance of “All I Want for Christmas is My Two Front Teeth”. The cruel irony was not lost on the young and toothless Jan.
To celebrate the end of the school year in June, S.S. No. 13 Lanark would be joined by neighbouring schools Middleville, Bulloch and Herron’s Mills at the Middleville fairgrounds. The day’s events included the sack race, the 3-legged race, and the wheelbarrow race, and a picnic for the hungry competitors provided the perfect end to a fun-filled afternoon.
Close relationships developed between Jan and her friends in the one-room schoolhouses, so it was a huge transition when they transferred to the large high school in Perth with 1200 students. Most went on to successful careers and often return to the area to maintain their childhood friendships.
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