Alumna Stella Woods shares her HGS journey and beyond
October 31, 2024
FIRST IMPRESSIONS
On 14th September 1971, decked out in my brand-new, starchy school uniform (complete with grey bib, blue velour hat, school tie, over-sized gaberdine and brown leather briefcase) I walked bravely down the road to the village bus stop, boarded the bus and headed nervously into Oldham for my first day at Hulme Grammar School for Girls.
Leaving behind close friends and a warm, much-loved primary school with coloured pictures on the walls; a kind, fun teacher, games in the playground and delicious lunches of steak pie, mashed potatoes, apple pie and custard, I found myself inside a huge and forbidding redbrick building with long, draughty corridors, rows of Victorian desks with inkwells, massive blackboards and lots of wooden panels and iron railings. A smell of boiled cabbage arose from the basement. Everyone was wearing the same clothes – my first experience of ‘uniform’. The ceilings were high and the classrooms chilly. It felt like a prison. I remembered the book, Tom Brown’s Schooldays and shuddered.
That first day at Hulme I knew my childhood had ended. I gritted my teeth and decided to make the best of it.
WHY HULME?
Everyone told me how lucky I was to have a place at Hulme. But I didn’t feel lucky. My best friend had gone to another school and after years of forming close bonds at primary school, I knew I’d have to start all over again.
Half the girls in my class had already met at Estcourt and had their own friendship groups. But I was a Thorne Scheme child – a programme that replaced the 11-plus exam, allocating publicly-funded grammar school places to primary school students, based on teacher recommendations and class performance.
THINGS START TO LOOK UP
My first year at Hulme was tough, getting used to the daily commute; the hours of homework; the constant tests and exams; the higher standards and strict academic discipline and what would now be called ‘zero tolerance’ for breaking rules. It was like being in the army.
But although I missed my primary school friends, being able to walk to school and wearing what I wanted, I absolutely loved learning all the new things – French, Biology, Shakespeare, Gymnastics, Trigonometry, Domestic Science and even Hockey. I realised I’d always felt held back at primary school, where we had 40 in a class and constantly repeated the same lessons. Now I was in a classroom with people who were on the same level, and what a joy that was. Seven periods a day – learning something different every forty minutes. I lapped it up.
By the second year and third year (Lower IV & Upper IV) I had settled into the routine and school became really enjoyable. The classrooms were still cold and the school dinners truly awful (black pudding and fried eggs anyone?) but I’d worked out how to stay warm (extra jumpers from the lost property box) and was now allowed to make my own lunch and take it to school. We knitted woollen squares and made them into blankets for charity. We sang traditional songs and listened to Mr Higgins play beautiful classical music each morning.
We learned Russian and Chemistry and Physics and played cards behind the Biology lab benches. We talked about boys and music and fashion and the youth club and how much homework we had. We sent Christmas cards to each other by school post.
Things started to really look up when, after years of fundraising, the school built its own indoor swimming pool, which opened when I was 14. What a treat for those of us who loved the water and life-saving. And for many girls a welcome alternative to outdoor sport, even though our year group was particularly sporty and dominated the First XI hockey team for several years.
RATE YOUR TEACHER
Hulme teachers were mostly an amazing bunch of women putting us through our paces, with just a few men for gender balance, including Mr Moore, our much-loved Physics teacher. Armed with a bunch of recycled textbooks; an out-of-date library; a few slide projectors, a music room that doubled as a dining room and lots of chalk and talk, they taught us everything they knew.
And despite the lack of facilities and equipment, it was a quality education. Feminism was not an issue, as our school had 600 girls/women and 5 men. And our teachers were smart.
Special mention goes to Miss Turner who lectured the class on the dangers of pornography after finding a copy of Confessions of a Window Cleaner in someone’s bag.
Then there was Miss Hatch, a Greek and Latin scholar, who remarkably taught herself Russian and then taught students up to A Level. She was absolutely terrifying in the classroom, taking zero tolerance to a whole new level. But completely dedicated and passionate at the same time.
Not forgetting Miss Roker, another teacher not to be messed with, who enjoyed smoking cigars and whose retirement present was a large axe. I can still see her wielding it on the stage in the school hall. We thought she was as old as the hills with her iron-grey hair, tweed suit and sensible beige stockings, but she must have been younger than we are now!
Finally there was the highly-respected Miss Winfield, who took up the headship at Hulme when she was only 36 and we were 15. A stylish, intelligent, enthusiastic and ambitious woman, far ahead of her time, who inspired and supported hundreds of pupils during her ten years at the school, in particular championing the study of science and technology and setting up bursaries to help families who struggled to pay school fees.
HAPPY MEMORIES
There were two classes in our year group – about 65 of us in all. We started off in UIIIB and UIIIC and over the years, got to know each other and became firm friends and supportive classmates. So smart. So talented. So creative. So inspiring and all with something special and unique to offer.
Particularly happy memories are our self-funded Youth Hostelling trips to the Lake District and Peak District; training for the Duke of Edinburgh awards; Life-Saving training in our school swimming pool; French exchange trips to the Loire Valley complete with undercover smoking, drinking and boys; rounders and tennis on warm summer days; Wimbledon in the 6thf orm common room on a borrowed TV and rehearsing for our class pantomime – Robin Hood. I loved having daily access to a grand piano to practise the latest chart hits.
Other classmates talk of geography field trips; home-made canoes; visits to Holland; making wine in the chemistry lessons; the madrigal group and the film club (an opportunity to meet boys). Not to mention our disastrous attempts at learning to sew unstylish garments and mastering the basics of British cookery when butter was hard and pastry made from scratch. Puff pastry that is…
It’s a remarkable testament to the seven years we spent together at Hulme, and the bonds we forged, that so many of us are still in touch. I’ve personally been in contact with at least 30 of these fabulous women over the past few years. We’ve joked and laughed; reminisced and shared stories and solidified our memories. Each of us adding a new piece to the tapestry.
LIVING IN THE SEVENTIES
I was always astonished when my parents and grandparents started talking about the First and Second World Wars and rationing and air raids and the blackout and their lives back then. That was history right? But now when I talk to young people about life before social media, smart phones, the internet, Google maps, GPS and digital technology they look at me with the same astonishment.
We didn’t even have a landline when I went to Hulme. You just made arrangements and stuck to them. We sent invitations by mail. When we eventually did get a phone, there were timed local calls, so no chatting to your boyfriend, plus the phone was usually in an unheated hallway. No freezer, no microwave, no ready meals. And no central heating for most of us, which meant no hanging out in your bedroom as it was too cold. Video cassettes were invented when I was at university. Our equivalent of a Netflix binge was hiring five videos and then sitting up all night watching one film after another. And of course no headphones or earbuds. I bought my first mobile phone when I was 42.
BEATLEMANIA BOOMERS
Our class of 1978 was born in the late-fifties-early sixties, which apparently makes us Beatlemania Boomers. But the Beatles were not on our collective radar – there was too much other good music happening all around us.
Much of our musical education took place on Thursdays (Top of the Pops) or via the Radio One and Radio Luxembourg weekly charts. More serious musical buffs watched the Old Grey Whistle Test or read the uber-cool New Musical Express (NME). There were no music videos.
Romantics loved Simon & Garfunkel, David Essex, Donny Osmond, Carole King and David Cassidy; teenyboppers danced to Bay City Rollers, Showaddywaddy and Slade; metal heads freaked out with Deep Purple, Black Sabbath and AC/DC; the soul sisters lapped up Motown, Stevie Wonder and Diana Ross, while the cool brigade championed Pink Floyd, Yes, Hawkwind, Roxy Music and Cockney Rebel. A backdrop to all this amazing music, was the mighty Led Zeppelin, whose fourth album featuring Stairway to Heaven, Black Dog and Rock ‘n Roll was released as we started school in 1971. As we grew older, prog rock and supergroups gave way to punk, new wave and indie music – a smorgasbord of sound.
BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY
My favourite band as a teenager was Queen and in 1975 I persuaded my parents to let me take the bus to the Free Trade Hall in Manchester to see Freddie & Brian (£2 a ticket). This concert remains a highlight of my whole life (you can still listen to it on YouTube).
Queen’s hit single, Bohemian Rhapsody, had been released the month before the concert and I spent the next six weeks trying to learn how to play it. This involved buying the record and then walking backwards and forwards from the piano to the record player, getting the needle in just the right place, listening to a bit of the song and then trying to copy it. If only the technology of today and all the free access to sheet music had been available back then!
The average price of an album in the mid-seventies was £3-5 depending on the artist. We never used the word vinyl – we owned LPs. If you wanted to show off, you took your new album to school on the bus, holding it vertically under your arm so everyone could see the cover. Owning music was definitely cool.
To put these 1970s prices into context, as a teenager, I earned enough money stacking supermarket shelves for three hours to buy a £2 ticket to see Queen in Manchester. A Saturday shift at C&A or Woolworths paid £5. Meaning in 1975, it was cheaper to go and see Queen in concert than to buy their best-selling album Night at the Opera for £5 – the same price as a pair of fashionable shoes. Our single and album collections were precious and closely guarded.
As our teenage years progressed, audio cassettes became popular and we would make compilations, carefully recording individual tracks from the radio or record player. But there were still no personal music players like iPods; no CDs, no digital music, file sharing or streaming. Sony Walkman, the first portable audio player was launched in 1979, the year after we left school.
MOVING ON
When Marc asked me to write about my memories of Hulme he said ‘What were your aspirations back then?’ I had to think about that, because I know that if I were leaving school today in 2024-25, my goals, dreams and vision of what is possible would be far more ambitious than back in 1978. We simply didn’t have access to the vast amount of information, knowledge and opportunities available nowadays.
My main goal at age 18 was to get into university and study foreign languages, so that I could leave the UK! And that’s what I did. I took advantage of every possible programme, scheme, work visa and opportunity to work and travel abroad and ended up living in France, Italy, the USA and finally Australia. I’ve had many different jobs over the years, but my dream of travelling the world, having adventures and exploring different cultures came true.
Marc also asked me: “Looking back, what advice would you give to your young self at Hulme?”. I’d tell her the world will change beyond recognition in your lifetime, so if something seems impossible or out of reach now, don’t give up hope and never give up trying. Think outside the box.
New apps and technologies are being launched every day and we have free and unlimited access to the best brains in the world – the 21st century is an exciting time to be alive.
COMING FULL CIRCLE
Eight years ago, I moved back to the UK from Australia to help take care of my parents, both of whom have since died. It’s been an emotional time but one of the wonderful benefits of being back in England has been the chance to meet up with old school friends in person.
In 2018, Alison Swain (Blears) suggested that four of us old school friends have a catch up – the ones who used to go youth hostelling and play cards behind the Biology lab bench – as it had been 40 years since we left school. Someone said ‘Maybe we could invite a couple of others to join us?’
Before long the whole thing had snowballed – here’s a photo at The Old Bell in Delph of our Reunion Lunch when 25 people turned up. We started talking and eating at lunchtime and were still going strong at midnight and for some, into the next day. It was 21st century technology that allowed us to reconnect with each other so quickly. When we first met up, we didn’t recognise each other because we’d been apart for so long!
Instead of relying on scribbled phone numbers and old address books, we set up a Facebook group, a very lively WhatsApp group and even some sub-groups based on geographical location/interests. Karen Harman (Halliwell) formed an online Hulme Old Girls pub quiz team (HOGS) during COVID which helped brighten those dark days. And in December some of us are going to see a play written by one of our classmates.
If you’ve grown up with digital technology, it’s probably hard to imagine that you can completely lose touch with people when they move house or change their phone number or maiden name. But many of us pre-digital natives had completely lost touch with each other and now, thanks to social media, we are enjoying each other’s company again. Since 2018 we’ve had regular reunions, new friendships have formed and as we, the Beatlemania Boomers, head into our senior years, we’re still enjoying life and looking out for each other.
I now feel really lucky and grateful that I went to Hulme.
Stella Woods
October 2024