POTTERY CLASS IN 1959.

Bring out the pottery boy Mr A said bring it out front so the other boys can see your work I took out my clay pottery attempt to the front of class and stood there holding the pottery on a wooden tray Mr A gazed at me through his black framed Beatnik glasses his eyes like huge marbles what you call this huh boy? I looked at the hand rolled clay pot haven't called it anything yet I said thinking of a name he went stern eyed at me are we attempting wit as well as pottery? He said a mild titter from some boys in the class here he said in a raised voice like a failed actor here we have an example how not and I repeat NOT to make a pot the classroom went quiet I stared at my pot lopsided and brown like a rushed turd what were you attempting? Mr A asked whatever it was it most certainly was not a pot I said nothing I gazed at him in his snot green jumper and Beatnik beard and brown corduroy trousers and sandals I don't know why I bother with pupils like you boy he said waste of my time I stood looking passed him at Danny who was boss eyed and pulling a face I suppressed a smile and looked dull go back to your place and spare me the sad boy look so I returned to my desk with my pot leaning further east and placed it down gently as if it were some work of modern art Mr A then poked Eddie in the back and held up his pot which went in and out like armless model of Greek design worse Mr A said than mine.

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Written by

terry-collett

English

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