Wednesday, 17 September 2014

A School Essay About School

After Clinty died the school gave me all of his school stuff. Initially I could not look at any of it. Weeks or maybe months later I looked through his books and found this essay that was written by Clint the day before the end of his life. I have copied it word for word, spelling for spelling – completely unchanged.

“ 14 March 2014                             The Good Old Days                                             By  Clinton

My early childhood had many ups and downs, there were good times, great times and then came the horrible times.

In the early years of my life I reached my first educational stepping stone, I started nursry school.

For the first few months or so I absolutly hated the school. I dreaded going there and when I arrived I couldn’t wait to leave the place. As time went by I realised that school was a must and I started getting used to it. I still hated going there but once I was there I played with my friends, did the little bit of work that was necessary and ate the disgusting food. But when I had to leave I wanted to stay longer. Back in those days my only homework was to play with my toys.

Before I knew it nursery school days were over and it was now time for primary school. To me it now felt like I was in the real world. There was much less playing at school and much more work to be done and now I started getting homework, I really had a nice teacher, she was not authoritarian and she was very patient which made my life very pleasant and I really enjoyed school. There were only three or four of my friends from nursery school that came to my primary school so we sort of stuck together as a group. By the end of the year I was used to the work load and I was loving life.

Along came grade 2, I was lucky enough to get the worst teacher the grade had offered. She was the devil’s little sister. She was the grumpiest, sternest woman I had ever come across. She made my life a living hell and I hated school. I remember the day she hit me on the head with a text book as if it was yesterday. I got an instant headache and I refused to do any work. She was a rather abusive woman and she just got away with it.

It was now time for grade 3. I got a really great teacher once again. I was happy at school again. The school days were now feeling extremly long, school now ended at half past one. This was also the year I started doing Afrikaans at school.

I now started grade four and I now also started changing classes so I didn’t really bother about my teacher because I didn’t have to sit with the same one all day. I was now faced with a whole bunch of new subjects aswell.

My childhood was full of good times as well as bad times but I really enjoyed those young days and I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again.”




As I type this I have a huge lump in my throat; a tightness and pain in my chest and an anger beyond words. It may be time for you to stop reading as of now, because I won’t mince any words about what a monstrous evil wicked bullying bitch she was. I lived that time with Clint and in the end I had to concede defeat. For those reading this who did not know Clint, he was the sweetest little boy who would not harm a single soul. He was not a naughty or even slightly mischievous child. He was not cheeky or disrespectful and it was beyond all of us as to why this woman chose to treat him so badly. 

I went to the principal and he said that I was the only parent who had an issue with her and she was a good teacher. This went on for months and Clint hated going to school and had stomach aches and headaches every morning. I was about to go to the education board, but that was 1997, there was no easy Google searches to find numbers of education departments like there is now. Eventually I decided for Clint’s sake I would just ignore the way she carried on and tried to build him up at home.

I worked full time so did not hang around the school chatting to other mothers and his friends were all in different classes. We could not understand why she would pick on Clint, a quiet well behaved boy. We came to the conclusion that it was because her daughter who was as ugly and hefty as her mother, went to ballet with my niece, a pretty petite little girl who did so well at ballet and this wicked evil witch’s daughter thumped around unsuccessfully  trying to be a ballerina. That was the only conclusion we could come up with. We were yet to find out that he was NOT the "only" child with a problem - just one of many.



At the end of that year I was chatting to another mom and she told me her son ran away from school because of that evil woman. Her husband wanted to go into the classroom and show her exactly what a bullying evil bitch deserves, the mother said he mustn’t because she worked at the tuck shop and it would look bad – because again it was only her son that had a problem. In the years to come I heard the same story over and over again, but not one of the parents complained to the principal.

Clint was fortunate enough to have the most amazing teacher the following year and I told her what he went through the year before and she was not even surprised, but through commitment and patience and dedication, she slowly built Clint up again. One day we were out shopping a year or two later and the evil bullying monster was in the same aisle as us and Clint said very sweetly - hello Mrs Gadd Claxton and she mumbled something and I looked her straight in the eye and said “Clint do not greet this evil bitch” she did not say a word to me just scurried off like the bullying piece of vermin that she is. She was off her turf and like the true bully that she is, she ran off.  No I didn’t make a habit of teaching my child to be disrespectful, but evil cannot be respected.

We have had good teachers, bad teachers. strict teachers. couldn't care less teachers; amazing teachers; horrible teachers, fantastic teachers and OK teachers, but neither after that or before that year did we ever have another evil bullying monster like her. We never had a teacher who was ever frustrated with Clint's behavior to hit him on the head or make out that he was a troublesome little boy. Clint called her the devil’s little sister he was being kind to her by saying that. The devil would be angelic compared to her.

She calls herself an educator – she is a child abuser and it is because of people like her that the education department and government has stopped corporal punishment. Principals do not know what goes on behind closed doors or they do not care or they just fall into the manipulative trap of these psychopathic bullies.

I did not realise that 10 years later, Clint still remembered what life was like with her as a teacher and believe you me Clint did not tell tales or complain or make a big thing out of nothing. I blame the other parents for not complaining, because even then the laws started changing and teachers were not allowed to hit students. She was also a blatant liar and denied hitting Clint on the head and he was not the only one that she hit. One day we were chatting to a young girl, whose boyfriend was one of our Clients, this was a couple of years after Clint died, it turned out that this girl was in Clint’s class and also had this psychotic bitch for a teacher and she was also hit more often than not.

After reading this essay on Saturday, it just broke me completely. This is the little boy the psychotic bitch got pleasure out of making life hell for him. When Chad went to the school at the end of grade one I told his teacher to please make sure that Chad did not go into her class, because I would do something to harm her. If only I had known just how bad she was before Clint was put in her class.


Clint on his 8th birthday





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