Kerry Wright, et al - 1955

In 1955, when I was 5, I began my schooling at Narrabeen Infants' School, located in Ocean Street, Narrabeen, at the corner of King Street, not far from my childhood home in nearby Mactier Street. Here I am in the 1955 kindergarten class of post-WWII Baby Boomers. That's me, Kerry Wright, in the third row from the front, fifth from the left. I spent three years at Narrabeen Infants' School from 1955-1957. It was only a short walk from home and Mum would walk me across busy Pittwater Road each morning, to see me safely on my way. 

All the teachers were female and generally caring for the most part, albeit in a somewhat strict authoritarian way, in accordance with the teaching methods of the day. The school was in an absolutely stunning location, with its main entrance directly opposite the ocean. The school grounds were generously planted with grand old statuesque pine trees, one of which can be seen in the above photo. 

I vividly remember two incidents from my time at Narrabeen Infants', one good and the other not so good. First the good. All the children were assembled one day to hear a visitor speak about classical music. Among other pieces, she played a recording of Claude Debussy's beautiful "Claire de Lune" on the gramophone. It left an indelible impression upon me, starting a life-long love and appreciation of classical music that continues to this very day. 

And the not so good? You will remember that I mentioned how strict the teachers were. It was the teaching style of the day. Children were expected to sit still and not speak. Well, on this one particular occasion, I remember I needed to wee-wee very urgently. My dilemma was that I was too shy and nervous to raise my hand and bring the attention of the entire class to me, not to mention the possible wrath of the teacher. So I sat tight, hoping I would be able to make it through to the next break. Alas, that was not to be. With startling clarity, I can still recall looking down into my lap and seeing a triangular shaped yellow puddle, contained by my trembling little legs in their grey serge school-shorts. Not exactly a propitious beginning to my academic career.