I went to a school - Rustenburg- that demanded conformity and comparative excellence. (Remember those dreaded mark readings at the end of term, all fellow Rustybug Ghurls.)* Two areas of note for me were spelling and penmanship. It was indeed a celebratory day in Std 4 /grade 6, when a pupil was allowed to move from writing with a pencil, to using a Tropen - a refillable fountain ink pen with a split nib for very beautiful writing.
I am not sure that cursive writing is still used in schools, but in my day, we had weekly handwriting classes, practicing light upstrokes, and hard down to create calligraphy styled letters. I am glad we were taught the precision of neat lettering, because it was in a way mindfulness before mindfulness became a thing. And taking care with what you present is never a bad practice. Possibly the competition aspect of the graduation could have done with an overhaul - we were always pitted against our classmates, and there was a rank in getting your Tropen sooner rather than later in the year.
It was also in Std 4 that I spent most Thursday afternoons in detention. To be clear, I was a conformist, and the detention was not about bad behaviour, but underachieving spelling test results. I was a rotten speller. Looking back, I think it was not so much about not being able to spell words - I was a voracious reader, and loved words in general - it was more about having the confidence to believe in myself that I could actually write and spell. For years and years after school, I used to write with a dictionary next to me, and check and recheck the spelling of basic words which in my heart I knew were correctly written. These days spell check takes away any angst. I have also learnt the benefits of free writing - just getting the thoughts down on paper, and then coming back to correct grammar and spelling.
We were taught little tricks to help with confusing words: PENS, PENCILS and the such are Stationery, because they have "E"s in them. The other Stationary was a stopped CAR, with an A in it. It made sense to my 10 year old brain, and I (obviously) still remember it.
By the time I was in high school, I had found the joy of writing. It was, and sometimes still is, my preferred form of communication. I spent my teenage years writing short stories, or poems, or sometimes doodling elaborate patterns, when writers' block took grip.
And still, when I am feeling Stationary - stuck in a rut, or unable to move an idea, I turn to Stationery to unclog my brain. I write lists. I write random thoughts, I write down some dreams I have. I write to move on.
I was 6 years old when my grandfather died. It is all a bit fuzzy, as old memories often are, but I do remember "inheriting" a battered brown suitcase that had belonged to him. It was full of blank pieces of paper - lined, unlined, blocked, faded, A4, A5. It was a treasure trove, and one of my precious childhood belongings. Blank paper to you. But to me, it was space for untold stories, a way to be heard, and a portal to a world that combines imagination and reality.
Fun fact for this blog: If I am feeling overwhelmed or in need of a treat, I take myself off to the local shops and trawl around the stationery sections. I found a delicate, blue Fineliner last week :)
* Mark reading was a gathering of the whole grade in the hall or library, and the headmistress would read out the academic marks. Those with the highest grades, read out in order 1st, 2nd, 3rd......, were congratulated and sent away to bask in their success. The rest waited in trepidation for our turn. It was a form of public shaming, but it worked in its own warped way. I was determined to climb up the mark chain. It was a dreaded day each term, and I wish we had rather been taught that education is not a competition, but a gateway to understanding ourselves in the world.
Ghurls is a phonetic appellative used by the Headmistress. She encouraged us to speak as if we had a hot potato in our mouth. (!) Ah, fond memories!!
