Grammar school blues

In 1939 I passed the school entrance exam ( the only boy in the school) and gained access to the Queen Elizabeth grammar school in Darlington. Up to that point I was a happy kid playing and enjoying life with my peers and school mates. Very few kids from poor areas made it to a grammar school which was full of of boys whose upper class parents had paid for their entrance on the basis of money, not merit. I became quickly aware that my status, and others like me were rated second class, both by teachers and the paid pupils. The snob atmosphere was stifling. My mother worked her heart out to buy my school uniform, football boots, shirt and pants, cricket gear etc...on the never-never of course. My life had taken a seriously wrong turn. My old pals in the street had faded away and I seemed destined to continue my life among snobs. After a couple of years my mother, worried about my failing health decided I should quit and I spent the rest of my education at a local school.
Things have maybe changed now in the UK but, aged 81, I would offer some advise to kids. Work hard at school (that's important) but stay with your peers and avoid like the plague the snooty snobs of this world. And live a clean healthy life...be good, and try to make the world a better place

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