History Class for Chickenlady aged 15
I went to a Private Catholic Girls' Convent School.

I managed to get a scholarship to go there as my dad was a policeman and my mum a classroom assistant. My background was squarely blue collar - despite the fact that I very quickly picked up a RP accent.

This of course wasn't the case for many of the girls in my year. We had plenty of overseas students who were the daughters of captains of industry, members of foreign governments and even one or two royal princesses. Even some of the British pupils were from rather rarefied backgrounds too.

Our GCSE history teacher was an Oxbridge graduate and married to the headmaster of another very distinguished public school.

Their daughter was in my class.

Part of our history syllabus was on the establishment of the Welfare State and as our teacher wanted to make this fully accessible to a class of privileged teenage girls she asked if any of us knew of anyone who lived in a Council house.

Some odd looks were exchanged. The girl sitting next to me whispered that her grandmother lived in one, I whispered back that mine did (and still does) too.

A few tentative hands went up.

Then the teacher barked at her daughter,

"Jenny! Put your hand up!"

Jenny shook her head - she couldn't possibly know anyone who lived in a Council house.

"Jenny! Our cleaning lady lives in a Council house!"
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 10:44, 2 replies)

tea and keyboard interface = mess
thanks Chickenlady! I'll have to request a new keyboard from IT now...

clickity!
(twiceydrinker hmmm is it pint time?, Thu 16 Oct 2008, 11:19, closed)

Doesn't everyone's?
We have a cleaning lady - me! I no longer live in a council house, though. They're rarer than hen's teeth these days.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Thu 16 Oct 2008, 14:03, closed)