Private School

Grade 9 was an interesting year for me. I had the privilege of going to a private school as a boarder and had a number of adventures. It was a school very simular to that portrayed in Dead Poets Society and its classes were populated by such decidedly English names like Coffin, Faggan, Woodcock etc. We, in Lower School had to wear unforms and the the Lower School was not coed.

Upper School was coed. At least grade 13 was. There was a limited intake of female day students of good old Anglo-Saxon or WASP stock. About 6 I think out of a class of 75. For a whole school year that was my only female contact, save our school nurse and the cleaning staff as all the Masters were male (except our art teacher).

We had to go to church services every day. From Monday to Friday we went for a morning service and the day students went too. Yes, we had school 6 days a week! Church service was the only time we got to see the sacred six girls and one of them was a STUNNING blonde who had physically matured past the age of a teenager. Since Upper School did not have to wear uniforms (except the blue school blazer and grey slacks on Sundays and special occasions) the girls were required to wear dresses or a skirt.

The subject of my admiration always sat in the same pew and it was a fight of the Lower School Senior Form to get a seat in the pew closest to her. We would try to get to church early and before she arrived so we could watch her glide down the aisle to her assigned seat. That 30 seconds was heaven for us boys during our sexual awakening!