Autobiography by Evelyn Jenkins – Published in The Clarion 1967
September 16, 2021
by Clive Lau
“I Suppose She just loves School?”
…. said a kindly neighbor to my mother, smiling down at me. I was five at the time. We were living at Bristol then, and I had
just started at the Infants’ School. I didn’t
say so but she was quite mistaken. In
fact I didn’t like it at all.
They must have been old-fashioned in method, and I was terribly afraid of my successive teachers. They shouted when angry, and they seemed to be angry a great deal of the time. The worst punishment was being made to stand on your chair for a whole lesion. I don’t think this ever happened to me, but I always feared it might. ‘Handwork’ looms large as an unpleasant lesion – I was very slow to learn how to lace those horrible piece of black materials. I don’t remember learn-to read, but I must have done. Presumably it was less of an ordeal!
After two years we moved to Trowbridge, and that has been my home ever since. It is a small country town in Wiltshire. Life there is peaceful and quiet compared with life in Hong Kong. Things seem to change very little, though in fact the town has grown considerably in recent years. I think the population is probably about 25,000 now. Everyone has a garden, and there are open fields nearby. It is this I miss most when in Hong Kong.
Junior school days were pleasant there. Not all the teachers shouted, and somehow I managed to stay out of the forms where they did. Lessons are a vague memory, but I do remember that I was by now a voracious reader of anything I happened to lay my hand on. At home my favourite gam was ‘cowboys and Indians’ – no doubt as a result of having just one big brother. War years came, with air raid warnings, gas-mask drill, blackout – that is strict control of any lighting outside which might reveal the presence of a town to aircraft, very few sweets, dull food, and a great deal of fun with my cousins who came to live with us.
The great day came when I started at the High School. How proud I was to wear a uniform at last! It was a navy-blue gym-slip, with a green girdle, a white square-necked blouse, and in winter a black wide-brimmed hat with a green and yellow band round, or in summer the same thing in straw. Student here don’t know how lucky they are not to have to wear hats. The novelty soon wore off – and the hats soon came off, when we thought no-one would see us!
I was very happy for my eight years there. What stands out in my memory? My form was fond of drama, and we entered the annual competition with vast enthusiasm during our whole progress through school. Promotion was automatic, so we all stayed together. The role I most enjoyed was Dr. Chasuble in “the Importance of being Ernest’. This was a Sixth Form production and the climax of our dramatic career! We had a school orchestra jointly with our neighbouring Boys’ School, and I graduated slowly via drum and triangle to the piano. Playing in an orchestra is a most valuable experience. We had spacious playing fields for tennis, rounders, hockey and netball. We also learned to swim.
I think I particularly enjoyed the Sixth Form. For some lessons there were only three or four of us – by now very close friends – and I was studying only subjects I liked: English, French and History with a little Latin and German.
From the High School I went to St. Anne’s College, Oxford. If you ever go to England you must visit this wonderful city, and see the centuries old colleges, the Parks, and the river. Life was a mixtures of strenuous work – though we never admitted it – and all sorts of spare-time activities. Work centres on the weekly essay, for which you have to find all the material yourself, by reading. The libraries of course are as good as any in the world. The essay is then read aloud to your tutor in an uncomfortably close interview – your tutorial. Uncomfortably close because you are either alone with this expert, or accompanied by just one other undergraduate for support. It is thus impossible to avoid the searching question, or to disguise your ignorance! Spare time – and all your time is your own to organize as you will – can be spent punting on the river, walking in the Parks, in endless tea or coffee-parties, in every kind of sport, or in activities of Societies. These cover every kind of interest – from archery to railways. Those days were wonderful. Oxford is a life apart.
From there I went to Leicester and was in charge of History at Collegiate Girls’ School for about 400 girls, and a happy friendly place with high standards in every way. The first time I went on leave I visit them and talk to the Sixth Form about Ying Wa Girls’ School. They found you very interesting! I have of course concentrated on my ‘educational life’ in this very brief autobiography but it is true that in the story of my life I have been closely connected with schools, in one way or another, throughout.
I feel at this moment that in my story an episode has ended, and I look forward eagerly to starting this new chapter as Headmistress of Ying Wa Girls’ School.
Evelyn Jenkins
They must have been old-fashioned in method, and I was terribly afraid of my successive teachers. They shouted when angry, and they seemed to be angry a great deal of the time. The worst punishment was being made to stand on your chair for a whole lesion. I don’t think this ever happened to me, but I always feared it might. ‘Handwork’ looms large as an unpleasant lesion – I was very slow to learn how to lace those horrible piece of black materials. I don’t remember learn-to read, but I must have done. Presumably it was less of an ordeal!
After two years we moved to Trowbridge, and that has been my home ever since. It is a small country town in Wiltshire. Life there is peaceful and quiet compared with life in Hong Kong. Things seem to change very little, though in fact the town has grown considerably in recent years. I think the population is probably about 25,000 now. Everyone has a garden, and there are open fields nearby. It is this I miss most when in Hong Kong.
Junior school days were pleasant there. Not all the teachers shouted, and somehow I managed to stay out of the forms where they did. Lessons are a vague memory, but I do remember that I was by now a voracious reader of anything I happened to lay my hand on. At home my favourite gam was ‘cowboys and Indians’ – no doubt as a result of having just one big brother. War years came, with air raid warnings, gas-mask drill, blackout – that is strict control of any lighting outside which might reveal the presence of a town to aircraft, very few sweets, dull food, and a great deal of fun with my cousins who came to live with us.
The great day came when I started at the High School. How proud I was to wear a uniform at last! It was a navy-blue gym-slip, with a green girdle, a white square-necked blouse, and in winter a black wide-brimmed hat with a green and yellow band round, or in summer the same thing in straw. Student here don’t know how lucky they are not to have to wear hats. The novelty soon wore off – and the hats soon came off, when we thought no-one would see us!
I was very happy for my eight years there. What stands out in my memory? My form was fond of drama, and we entered the annual competition with vast enthusiasm during our whole progress through school. Promotion was automatic, so we all stayed together. The role I most enjoyed was Dr. Chasuble in “the Importance of being Ernest’. This was a Sixth Form production and the climax of our dramatic career! We had a school orchestra jointly with our neighbouring Boys’ School, and I graduated slowly via drum and triangle to the piano. Playing in an orchestra is a most valuable experience. We had spacious playing fields for tennis, rounders, hockey and netball. We also learned to swim.
I think I particularly enjoyed the Sixth Form. For some lessons there were only three or four of us – by now very close friends – and I was studying only subjects I liked: English, French and History with a little Latin and German.
From the High School I went to St. Anne’s College, Oxford. If you ever go to England you must visit this wonderful city, and see the centuries old colleges, the Parks, and the river. Life was a mixtures of strenuous work – though we never admitted it – and all sorts of spare-time activities. Work centres on the weekly essay, for which you have to find all the material yourself, by reading. The libraries of course are as good as any in the world. The essay is then read aloud to your tutor in an uncomfortably close interview – your tutorial. Uncomfortably close because you are either alone with this expert, or accompanied by just one other undergraduate for support. It is thus impossible to avoid the searching question, or to disguise your ignorance! Spare time – and all your time is your own to organize as you will – can be spent punting on the river, walking in the Parks, in endless tea or coffee-parties, in every kind of sport, or in activities of Societies. These cover every kind of interest – from archery to railways. Those days were wonderful. Oxford is a life apart.
From there I went to Leicester and was in charge of History at Collegiate Girls’ School for about 400 girls, and a happy friendly place with high standards in every way. The first time I went on leave I visit them and talk to the Sixth Form about Ying Wa Girls’ School. They found you very interesting! I have of course concentrated on my ‘educational life’ in this very brief autobiography but it is true that in the story of my life I have been closely connected with schools, in one way or another, throughout.
I feel at this moment that in my story an episode has ended, and I look forward eagerly to starting this new chapter as Headmistress of Ying Wa Girls’ School.
Evelyn Jenkins