Nobody Remembers Their Nursery School Teacher

School’s out for the summer here in the UK. For most parents – and grandparents too – this is the proper end of the year. Even if your child isn’t changing schools, it is a crucial time of change; when they go back in September nothing will be quite the same.

I Was Thinking This as I Attended My Grandson’s ‘Graduation’

On the last day of term last week, in front of an ‘invited’ audience of parents and minders, he and his fellow tots were awarded a mortar board (made out of card) and a scroll commemorating the fact they had completed a whole year at school.

At three years old, my grandson isn’t strictly ‘graduating’, but many of his schoolmates were, and as the head of the school handed out the prizes and tried to make herself heard above the general hubbub of tiny things who didn’t really have much idea what was going on, I couldn’t help noticing a distinct break in her voice.

For the nursery teacher saying goodbye to her charges, it must be very emotional. Not only are they unlikely to meet again, those tots are not going to remember their first and arguably most important teacher.

Nursery, or pre-school, or kindergarten or whatever name you give it, marks an important milestone in the life of anyone: probably the first time they’ve left home, even for a few hours, and been in the company of other tots and in the charge of strangers. Nowadays, with both parents working full-time, their toddler would be spending more time at nursery away from their mum and dad than they spend at home. And yet –

Who Remembers Their Nursery School Teacher?

I vaguely remember mine because she ran a ballet school, from where my dancing partner – humble brag coming up – went on to eventually run the Royal Ballet here in England. (His name was Anthony Dowell.) She was called Mrs. Hampshire and one of her daughters, a failed ballet dancer because she was too tall, went on to become a well-known actress called Susan Hampshire. I can remember the church hall where it took place and the way the caretaker swept the floor while we ate lunch so our food was covered in a thin film of dust.

My own kids only remember their nursery teacher because I talked about her a lot. She was a smart, elderly woman named Mrs. Benning who ran the school simply because she loved children. She was gentle and sweet and patient and possibly quite strict, and didn’t seem to mind that not all her pupils were properly potty-trained. She encouraged both my kids in their respective talents – reading in one case, singing in another – and the Christmas nativity play she produced annually in the next-door church was the highlight of the whole year.

So here, by way of recompense, even if the tots themselves don’t remember their nursery teachers you can bet your bottom dollar their parents do. On behalf of my own kids and my grandkid, I’d like to pay tribute to all nursery teachers throughout the world, and to Mrs. Benning and Julie Belcher in particular. You are truly and profoundly appreciated.

Also read, What We Remember from Our School Years.

Nostalgia Time:

What’s your earliest nursery school memory? Do you remember your teacher from those years? What stories do you remember?