Thank You, Sir

The beginners’ class in those days was first stage or ABC as it was commonly called, followed by second and third stage or introductory. After this was first to seventh standard. With promotions every year, the journey would take ten years. There were three end of term tests in the school year — Easter, Mid-Summer and Christmas.

Starting from ABC, after six years and placing first in tests several times, I ended up in Bartolo’s sixth standard — the College Exhibition Class. The Colonial Government granted ten scholarships every year for Trinidad and Tobago. Early December was examination time as the school year ended that month with two weeks of holidays.

Near the exam, Mr Bartolo visited my home in Jackson Place, East Dry River, to verify my age. When the certificate was produced, it showed that I was a year too old to qualify to sit for the Exhibition. That revelation resulted in great weeping and gnashing of teeth by my mother and grandmother. I was an old man when I was literally dragged to school at age seven.

He suggested that I should sit the exams for the privately run Secondary Schools. We used to call them "Paying Schools" because a monthly fee had to be paid. Only "money people" could afford to send their children to those schools. It was something like sixteen dollars a term.

At the assembly, one December morning in the early forties, Mr Bartolo announced to the whole school, "This newspaper I have in my hand is yesterday’s Evening News. In it is the name of a boy who has done us proud. He won a scholarship for Modern Secondary School in Woodbrook. He is Freddie Kissoon. Please come up to the platform, Freddie."

With the whole school clamouring vociferously, little me walked on air all the way from my line, up the steps to the landing.

He shook my hand and tapped me on the shoulder. As I stood there, looking at hundreds of children cheering and clapping. I felt as if I were in seventh heaven.

This euphoria was relived a few days later when the results for the Modern Academy Secondary School in Belmont showed that I had won a scholarship for that school as well. It was so considerate of Mr Bartolo to register me for exams to those schools and as I told him years later, I am eternally grateful.

My parents decided to send me to Modern Secondary School which was at the corner of Roberts and Cornelio Streets. Mr Moore was the principal and the vice principal was Mr R H E Braithwaite who retired from the profession as the Chief Education Officer in the Ministry of Education.

"This man here, was one of the brightest boys that ever attended Nelson Street Boys’ RC School." Those were the words of Mr Sydney Dedier as he introduced me to two of his fellow principals in Woodford Square one Saturday morning. My other teachers were Misses Hazelwood and Rose and Messrs Cecil Gray, Millette, Joseph and Leo Benette.

While holidaying in Toco in the early fifties with my cousins, Mr Bartolo met us by chance in Mission and asked me to allow his son to join us in our adventures in the hills, in the sea and on the beaches in Trois Roches, L’Anse Noire and San Souci. Oswald was a bit younger than I but a bigger bookworm. On the whole, he made out pretty good. His dad’s words were, "Oswald needs toughening up."

Once after a Patents-Teachers meeting, a teacher asked a parent, "Did you speak to your son about mimicking me?" The parent said, "Yes, I told him to stop playing the fool."