I suffer terribly from triggers . Today the triggers returned with vengeance as I watched parents mainly mothers taking their little ones to school after the six weeks holiday. my mother had left me with her parents when I was a baby. I was raised by my grandparents. I didn’t have my mother to take me to school, on my first day my mother lived thousand of miles away from me. Instead my auntie who was around eight years older then me walked me as far as her school, I walked the rest of the way with some of the children from the neighbourhood. My grandmother should have taken me to school but she was asleep when I left for school. She was recovering from a black eye and a split lip . My grandfather was a violent man domestic violence was a way of life for my family. I was pretty scared being away from my grandmother for the first time in my life. I would follow her everywhere holding on to her dress for dear life. I had a few cousins at the same school but I don.t remember much on that very first day . I can clearly remember a teacher asking my name I eagerly answered “Dorothy bastard”the teacher corrected me and said your name is Dorothy Henry. And Dorothy Henry I was to be for the next ten years at Long wood infants and jr and then on to Harford senior school. I enjoyed school it was a resbite from the hell that I endured at our so call home. I like to think that I intracted with most of the children. There was laughter , giggles and all the things that children do but there was the brutitility of corporal punishment I can still hear the sound of the cane bashing into my hands and the terrible stinging sensation pain as the head teachers rained blows down on my hands . My Hands didn’t heal from one caning session to another., I never once told my grandmother that I was caned, I knew she would not be able to do anything about it. It was so cruel because the head teaches knew that I didn’t have a mum . Back then abuse was rife amongst children like me it was normal. No one was going to question a teacher who sang in the church choir. I thought that school was for playing with my friends , playing with plastercine singing and being punished. I clearly remember that I had an urge to go home one day and I did. I left school shortly before lunch time I thought that my grandmother was going to die , the next day I was severely caned for what I had done. The teacher didn’t ask me why I had gone home during school time. Most of the teachers were fine with me. I will always remember Deidre Gough with great affection, she was such a lovely teacher, I would ask her about my mum as they were around the same age . Mrs Clingham the domestic teacher was also a lovely person, she couldn’t really cope with my behaviour she would shake her head laugh and walk away .I didn’t really learn anything in mrs Clingham’s class. I still had the piece of cloth that she had given to me when I first arrived in her class at twelve years old. I was now fifteen the cloth was now a scruffy piece of rag. Most of the girls had learnt how to do needle work and bake cakes, I found learning difficult. I would laugh and giggle but my spirit was broken from the abuse dished out to me by my grandfather at home. My daughter Hayley rang to say that Elizabeth was tearful she was worried about having a new teacher. A tear rolled down my face, a lump stuck in my throat, how ever did I cope on my first day at school without my mum to hold my hand and reassure me that everything would be alright.
Dorothy Maude My Life
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My name is Dorothy and I want to share with the world my trial and tribulations from St. Helena to where I now reside in England.My Photos
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