Wind Across the Playground

by Ross Richdale

  "Hi," Sarah called out when they walked in the kitchen. "The rural delivery truck just dropped the mail off. There are oodles of school stuff and one personal letter. She handed Noel a pink envelope with Kate's and his name on it.

  "It's from Wendy?" he said after he opened it. He read the first of three pages and handed it on to Kate.

  "She sounds lonely," Kate commented a moment later and reached for the second page. "She's at Southland Girl's now but mainly writes about the wedding and last year at school."

  "Being a country girl at a large school is difficult," Sarah added. "I remember I went to a private girls school when I was her age and cried myself to sleep for weeks." She grinned. "Mind you, boarding schools were pretty austere places in my day."

  "Yes," Noel replied, "but she's the sort to soon get a bunch of friends. I reckon the letters will fizzle out in a few weeks."

  HE WAS WRONG! WENDY's letters arrived regularly over the next few months and even the years ahead with a commentary of life as she saw it. Often, thoughts and feelings were included like a diary of her life. However, Noel never met her in person for many years after Wendy had left school, graduated from Dunedin Teachers' College and moved north.

  But that was eight years in the future, a lifetime for Alexia who grew into a petite little girl with long blonde hair and blue eyes. She called Kate 'Mummy' and, of course, never knew anyone else as her mother. Grandma and Daddy were always there, too. They were happy years that slipped by almost too quickly.

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER 13

  "I hate it, Dad and I'm not going back! Why can't I stay with you and Mum?"

  Noel glanced at his watch, saw it was not yet two o'clock and frowned at his eight-year-old daughter. Alexia's schooling was only one of the problems they had to solve since arriving at North Shore across the Harbour Bridge from Auckland. The golden opportunity was quickly becoming a nightmare.

  Kent Drive was a brand new school opening in one of the rapid growth areas of the city. His appointment as principal two weeks earlier in November 1986 was unusual in that he had no pupils. At the moment, therefore, Alexia was enrolled at the closest school a few blocks away from Kent Drive and also the house they had purchased.

  "You know no children are coming here until the New Year, Alexia," he said. "I'll ring your school and say you were feeling ill but it's the last time, young lady. You go back tomorrow and stay there. " He tried to look stern but really sympathized with his daughter. After being taught at Kimbolton School all her school life by either Kate or himself, she found the change difficult. He wasn't impressed with Summerhill Heights School either but it was only a temporary arrangement, as Alexia would enrol at Kent Drive in the New Year.

  "Thanks Dad," Alexia said and her anger disappeared like a bubble bursting. "Where's Mum?"

  "Over in Open Plan Block C, " Noel said. "The carpet was laid there yesterday so you can go and help her arrange the furniture." He frowned. "Don't blame me if Mum growls at you for leaving school early."

  "She won't, "Alexia chuckled. "You're the only one who grumbles in your beard." She shrugged. "Well, Grandma does at times but Mum never does." She gave her father a tiny kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you, later, Dad," she called and disappeared outside.

  Noel smiled as he watched her skip along the planks laid across the mud between the partly finished buildings. It had rained continuously since their arrival and the contractors were so far behind, the Auckland Education Board had considered postponing the school's opening until Easter.

  Only Kate's block was completed. As assistant principal in charge of the junior classes, she was one of only two other staff appointed. The other was Noel's deputy, George Trinder, a teacher years older than himself who had worked in the city his entire career. He was a bit of a character and, so far they got on well. The other teachers would to be selected soon and start with the children in the New Year, if the buildings were ready.

  Noel reached for the phone, rang Summerhill Heights School, and after telling the office lady Alexia was with him, asked to talk to Richard Green, the principal.

  "Noel speaking, Richard," he said. "I'm just ringing to confirm my visit tomorrow to discuss enrolling pupils for next year."

  "I guess," grumbled the man. "It's a bit of a waste of time, especially if your opening is going to be postponed."

  "I am working on the assumption of a February opening," Noel replied in a cold voice. "There are three schools who'll be sending pupils here so I need to get definite numbers. See you at nine fifteen."

  He rang off and swore.

  "Trouble, Dear," a familiar voice said.

  Noel glanced up and saw Kate standing across the room. At thirty-three, she had lost some of her high school girl look but weighed less than on their wedding day and, in his eyes, was even more attractive now. By choice, they had had no children and Kate had risen through to this second promotion after being a senior teacher at a Feilding school for two years while Noel continued at Kimbolton.

  "The silly old bugger," Noel snarled. "You'd think he could co-operate a little."

  "I found out why." Kate chuckled and sat on Noel's desk.

  "Go on," Noel replied. Kate had a knack of finding out any local gossip back in the Manawatu and it seemed she was doing the same here.

  "He applied for your position but you beat him. Apparently, he was so sure he'd get the job he'd already begun to select the children he wanted to bring across with him. You know, all the kids from the hill overlooking the beach but not the ones from the state-housing block in the valley."

  " I see," Noel replied and waited. He knew Kate had more to tell him.

  "He even told the locals he was coming. You know. 'Don't tell anybody but...' and, of course everyone told everyone. Half the district wants to get rid of him from what I heard. He's been at Summerhill Heights a decade and there are rumblings that he's a dead loss."

  "My God, it didn't take you long to get all the hot gossip," Noel replied. "Where did you pick all that up?"

  "Well," Kate replied with a smirk. "I am a parent with a daughter at the school, you know. I just waited around after nine and got to know a few other parents."

  "So that is why you insist on taking Alexia to school and never get back here until almost ten?" He glanced around. "Where is she, by the way?"

  "Unpacking that crate of readers and boxing them for me. She painted the front of the boxes last Sunday and is printing the numbers on them. You know her printing is almost as neat as mine?"

  "The little monkey," Noel snorted. "That's why she feigned being ill."

  "Could be but I suspect she is having a bit of a rough time over there. I know she can stick up for herself but apparently the children are teasing her."

  "Why?" Noel asked.

  "Because half the children know they'll be coming here next year and she's their new principal's daughter."

  "Damn. That's the city for you."

  "Yes," Kate replied with a shrug. "Now, why did I come over here?" She snapped her fingers and answered her own question. "I know, an Education Board truck has arrived at the gate but the driver can't get in though all the slush."

  "Okay." Noel sighed. "I'll go and tell him to come in off the other road. We got a load of gravel put down at that entrance." He glanced out the window at the construction everywhere. The undulating land had been scraped off to form a level surface so there wasn't a blade of grass anywhere, only bare soil between the three new blocks and this was now mud. "God, what a mess."

  "So we open after Easter!" Kate said. "It's not our problem."

  "True. I love your philosophical attitude Sweetheart." Noel smiled. Often, over the last few years when he had worried about situations, Kate had lightened everything with her positive approach.

  He stood up, kissed his wife on the lips and reached for a coat. The rain had begun to tumble down again and the truck was still waiting.

  THE NEXT MORNING NOEL took Alexia to school and walked along to Room Eight
to talk to his daughter's teacher.

  He introduced himself to Mrs. Bolton, a harassed looking women about his own age and apologized for the events of the day before.

  "Oh, she told me she was going home but I didn't believe her," Caroline Bolton replied. "I had to give her a yellow card, I'm afraid." She sounded quite apologetic and glanced in sympathy at the youngster whose lip dropped and tears surfaced in the downcast eyes.

  "What's that?" Noel asked in a cold voice.

  "Our discipline policy," the teacher said. "It's the latest method."

  "It must be new," Noel muttered. "I've never heard of it."

  The teacher must have realized she was talking to more than just an ignorant parent for she flushed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Overworth," she said. "It's a positive reinforcement policy the school has had it running since last year. The children are allowed one warning then it's a yellow card. Three yellow cards in a month mean a red card and ,that progresses to a detention."

  "For primary school children?" Noel snorted. He turned to his daughter. "I want to talk to Mrs. Bolton. Can you leave us a moment, Sweetheart?"

  "Sure, Dad," Alexia replied but still looked quite distressed.

  "I don't like this system," Noel began. He was annoyed and proceeded to tell the teacher how unhappy Alexia was at the school and, in his opinion... Suddenly he stopped when he noticed the woman's face. She had gone pale and her expression showed hurt.

  "I don't like it either Mr. Overworth but I'm just an assistant teacher and we don't have much say in school policy. All children must be treated the same. Alexia had her name on the board earlier for talking in quiet time and when she walked out without permission she broke her second class rule for the day, hence the yellow card. No exceptions are allowed."

  "God, this is like a totalitarian regime, not a school." Noel snapped.

  "I know," Mrs. Bolton replied. "Alexia is a dear little girl and is so far ahead of the other Standard Twos she gets bored and starts chatting." She bit on her lip, took the yellow card beside Alexia's name on a corkboard down and ripped it in half. "I'm not meant to do this," she whispered. "If it's any help, I reprimanded the two boys who were teasing her yesterday."

  "With a yellow card?" Noel couldn't help asking as he studied the chart. Most children had ticks by their names but seven or eight had yellow cards and two, a red one.

  "Yes," the teacher said, "However, with the rougher kids, it doesn't work. When you get a thump under the ear all the time at home, a yellow card means nothing."

  "So the good children are scared stiff and the rat bags continue on without a worry," Noel said. "Isn't that all back to front?"

  "It's what we use to replace corporeal punishment," the teacher explained. "Richard said it's the latest system overseas."

  "I'm sure," Noel replied sarcastically then relented a little and smiled. "Thanks for ripping Alexia's card up. I know she did wrong but city schools are so different from where we came from."

  "There's one other thing," Caroline added in a hesitant voice. "More of a personal matter."

  Noel frowned. "Go on," he said.

  "We have fourteen teachers here," the teacher said. "And, as far as I know, four of us have applied for positions at your new school...including me. It's not a very happy staff here."

  Noel glanced around the room with colourful charts and children's work everywhere. He, of course, had no say in the appointments as the Auckland Education Board automatically selected the highest graded teacher. It was a rigid system and there were rumours it was going to be phased out but decades of tradition were hard to change.

  He smiled. "If what I see around is any indication of your ability, you'll be a welcome staff member, Caroline. If you win a position at Kent Drive, you can leave the yellow cards behind, though."

  "Willingly," the woman broke into a smile. "Tell Alexia, the yellow card's gone and I'm sure the boys won't tease her again."

  "She knows," Noel grinned and nodded to where his daughter was peeping in the classroom door. "She can be a little monkey at times."

  He walked away to his meeting with Richard feeling quite impressed with Alexia's teacher. He could not, though, say the same about the school's principal. The man tried to browbeat him with superior knowledge but when Noel cut him down, the man became solemn and moody.

  "Well, Noel," he said, "I can but guide you. You run your school how you wish."

  "Oh I will," Noel replied in a slow voice, "This zoning you've drawn up has no legal standing at all. I was told I can enrol any pupil who comes to my door until we reach two hundred and seventy nine pupils, the designated opening roll."

  "And after that?" Richard Green retorted. "With my method it won't be just a barn dance."

  "So it was just your idea?" Noel added. He almost laughed at the city map with felt-tip lines drawn over it. Even a child could see the bulge up the valley where the state houses were purposely looped into Kent Drive while all of Summerhill Heights remained at the present school. If Richard Green though he had some country bumpkin to deal with he could think again.

  "I was trying to save you considerable time," Green protested but his pomposity had withered a little.

  "I'm putting an add in the Auckland Star tomorrow inviting all interested parents to enrol their children at Kent Drive on a first come, first served basis," Noel said. He wasn't going to tell Green this but the man annoyed him so much.

  "You can't do that," the other man retorted. "Half the families in the valley don't even get the paper."

  Ah, the man was showing his true colours. He wanted to send the working class children onto Kent Drive and keep the more prosperous families at Summerhill Heights. This was exactly the opposite of what Kate said he did when he thought he'd win Noel's position.

  "The advertisement will go in the suburban paper too," Noel said. "Also, I'm having signs placed in the local supermarket notice boards and an add will be put over the local radio stations."

  "It's illegal to advertise," the angry Summerhill Drive principal retorted.

  "It's a statement of fact, not an advertisement," Noel replied. "The District Senior Inspector of Schools gave his approval." He never added the big chief was somewhat reluctant about this but finally relented when the general manager of the Auckland Education Board backed Noel's idea.

  Richard Green glowered at Noel but backed down and agreed to hand across records of children who enrolled at Kent Drive, after the official request on Form E96A was completed, of course.

  "It will be done," Noel replied and left.

  It certainly was a depressing school. One could almost cut the tension with a knife. He felt like taking Alexia home with him right now and, if it wasn't for Caroline Bolton, he probably would have. He doubted, though, if Richard Green would try to boss him around again but he guessed he'd not gained any friendship from the man. Noel grunted. That didn't worry him in the slightest. The teaching profession was filled with people like Green, pompous little men too filled with their own self-importance to realize how they were shooting themselves in the foot.

  "Another old cliché," Noel muttered out loud as he drove back to Kent Drive, only three blocks from Summerhill Heights. Noel was determined his school was going to have completely different values than Green's school. It would be hard work but, with Kate's help, he was sure they would succeed.

  IN MANY WAYS, RICHARD Green's prediction was correct. Noel had stated in his advertisement that personal enrolments were preferred and after the first two hundred and fifty received, a waiting list would be established with priority given to pupils living closest to the new school. Here, with the Auckland Education Board's approval, he had listed street names that boarded the unofficial school zone. This included areas from both the state housing area and the upmarket Summerhill Heights but missed an area of the bays closer to other schools.

  On the last Monday in November, Kent Drive School began to enrol pupils and immediately one other difficulty was encountered. When Noel and Kate arrived
at work a little after seven thirty they were met by cars parked everywhere and thirty or more people lined up in front of Block C, their temporary administration area.

  "Oh my God," Kate exclaimed. "I didn't expect anyone for at least another hour."

  By eleven, they had reached their quota of two hundred and fifty pupils and parents were still arriving. Sarah had been called in to help, which was fortuitous for her, for the position later became a permanent appointment as the school's clerical assistant. By noon there were over a hundred on the waiting list and before the end of the day four hundred pupils wanted to come to Kent Drive.

  Bob Kimble, staffing officer at the Auckland Education Board, arrived after lunch and studied the addresses of newly enrolled pupils with interest. Each enrolment had been date stamped with the date and time and numbered in chronological order.

  "A trend is coming through," Bob said. "Three quarters of your first two hundred pupils come from beyond Summerhill Heights School and are not from your area at all," he said. "It appears the families there are keen to enrol."

  "So what do we do?" Noel asked.

  "Nothing," Bob shrugged. "We have to take them. My advice, though, is that you strictly enforce your zoned area for those who enrolled after number two hundred and fifty."

  "That's only another twenty one children out of zone," Noel replied. "We should have made the cut off point two hundred, I guess."

  Bob looked up and grinned. "I anticipated this," he said in a slow voice. "How'd you like an extra fifty children?"

  "But how?" Kate interrupted. "The three open plan blocks are only designed for a hundred pupils each and I would prefer less, especially in the junior area. You're talking of something like three hundred and thirty children. Where would they fit?"

  George Trinder who was also in the room, grinned. "Swipe some of Richard Green's prefabricated rooms. He'll hardly need them now. His school will be half its present size next year," he joked. "The old bugger might finally decide he's not wanted and retire."