The Rural Voice, 1986-09, Page 17RURAL SCHOOL DAYS
Andrew Dixon, from McGillivray Township, chronicles his school career that began in
1913.
by Andrew Dixon
Iwas educated during a good
period in the school system.
But authorities these days would
probably disagree because my era's
philosophy regarding learning was
quite the opposite of today's do
your own thing attitude. I main-
tain that our present education
"experts" are enthralled with an
idea based on a hypothetical child,
one who is born knowing what the
world has to offer and what he
wants of these offerings, and who
is inspired with ambition and
dedication. Was not our old
system restraining and frustrating
to this child, who rebelled or
became apathetic? But by neglect-
ing to look at the majority of
children carefully, administrators
set up a system that was suitable
for possibly one child in a hun-
dred.
The early pioneer had no schools
and many children were totally il-
tion offered in these public schools
was completed after one had pass-
ed through eight grades or classes,
at that time known as Primer, Part
One, Junior and Senior Second,
Junior and Senior Third, and
Junior and Senior Fourth. If you
started at the age of six, were
reasonably intelligent, and attend-
ed regularly, you would receive an
entrance certificate at the age of
thirteen to fifteen years. This en-
titled you to enter the field of
secondary education by attending
high school, and this in turn led to
university. The typical aim for a
boy was to pass entrance and then
quit school because it was time to
earn a living — by physical effort.
I would estimate that about 80 per
cent achieved their entrance, about
5 per cent went on to high school,
and about 2 per cent went to
university or Normal (teachers'
college).
"I remember I was given toothpicks and elastic bands and
was told to put them into bundles of ten."
literate. By 1860 a school system
had been established and children
attended when they were not need-
ed at home to do the many tedious
chores that backwoods life
demanded of them. In my grand-
father's family, only my grand-
father, who had attended school in
Weston, and his baby brother,
who was of school age when the
first school was built in the district,
could read and write.
When I arrived on the scene, the
primitive log schools had been
replaced by one -room brick
buildings located on every second
concession, which spaced them out
by a distance of two and a half
miles. You were always within
reasonable distance of a school.
The timetable was based on the
needs of the farm and so the school
closed during the two summer
months to free the children to help.
Usually children started to
school at the age of six. The educa-
Being the youngest of four boys,
I had the guidance of my older
brothers and my ideas were largely
formed by their advice. At the ex-
pense of self-reliance I had a fairly
carefree time of it. However, my
first attendance at school was of
my own instigation, totally
unguided and unsolicited. I had ar-
rived at the age of four in February
and Sinclair, who had just turned
six, was to start school after
Easter. To give him some idea of
what was in store for him, Mother
decided to send him to school for a
day with the older brothers. I
wanted to go too but was refused
permission. I sadly watched them
depart on a lovely March day.
Mother dressed me for outside
and turned me loose, expecting
that I would go to the barn or
amuse myself in childhood ac-
tivities around the yard. She cer-
tainly failed to make allowance for
the Dixon tenacity. I do not
remember much of the reasoning
that went on in my mind but I do
remember setting out to walk to
the school which, although a mile
and a quarter away, was visible
when you stood on the road. At
that time we had a dog of the
cocker spaniel type called Panty,
and she went with me. I don't
remember may of the details of the
walk but I do remember Panty
breaking through some shell ice
and the whole surface collapsing as
such areas do when the water has
drained away beneath them. The
clearest recollection I have is when
I arrived at the school and stood
outside the door. Inside I could
hear the teacher's voice and an oc-
casional child's voice reciting a
lesson or answering questions. It
took a little courage, but presently
I reached up and lifted the hasp.
The handle was like our stable
doors and not a knob like that on
our house door.
1 opened the door, walked in,
and stood still. On seeing me, the
children shouted with laughter.
Panty ran up the aisle and one of
the boys struck her with his foot. I
don't suppose he hurt her much
but she yelped and at that point 1
started to cry. The teacher came
down the aisle, called me by name,
and finally arranged that Sinclair
should take me home. Thus ended
my first day of school.
I started school officially on the
Easter following my sixth birth-
day. I don't remember many of the
details of that second first day, but
I do know that Eunice Harlton and
I were the two beginners. Easter
was late that year and the Harltons
had started Eunice a month before
Easter; and so, while we were
essentially in the same class, she
was ahead of me. I remember that
I was given toothpicks and elastic
bands and was to put them in
bundles of tens. I can't remember
my reaction to the job. I did not
object and I did not ask why but it
was well within my ability and
when teacher asked me how many
SEPTEMBER 1986 17