The Class of '69: Nenagh boys national school

A few short weeks after the men landed on the moon, my class started 'babies' in Nenagh national school. It was called babies then. Not Junior Infants. Now there was none of your touchy-feely stuff back then! No badges with name tags and parents filming the moments.

My recollection of that first morning is the varying degrees of enthusiasm of the pupils. Some had to be dragged in, others entered voluntarily with anxiety etched across their not fully-formed brows.

The school was dark, brown, very brown. There were maps in the classrooms, huge maps and perhaps I’m mistaken but some of those maps had Prussia on them. The desks, walls, partitions and doors were old, well-used and imposing.

We were assigned to our classes. It was business-like. I remember the roll book, the big dusty roll book. We quickly learned to say 'anseo'. Our names were called out 'as Gaeilge' and I recall the anxiety of ensuring that my response was timely, I wanted to get that 'anseo' in and get it over with.

Sometimes the sun would shine in through a window and cast a dusty beam across the room, and chalk dust sprinkled in the bright light and the brown looked slightly less brown for a little while.

We were given counters, learned the fundamentals of maths. We drew things, we started to write.

We played in the yard; wild playing, disorganised mayhem. Certain older boys were given the responsibility of minding a gate. They were entrusted custodians whose role was to ensure that there were no escapees.

As autumn rolled into winter and the days shortened and temperatures dropped, we were slightly warmed by an open fire in the classroom. Yes, men had landed on the moon, but our teacher not only had the responsibility of educating us but also had the responsibility for keeping the fire topped up with coal.

During that first-year, friendships formed, some of which have still endured. The formation of friendships was difficult to understand. People just drifted together, they enjoyed each other’s company and some of the people who drifted together in the autumn and winter of 1969 still drift together today. Friendships forged in that brown, cold building endured, still endure.

I remember coming back after Christmas holidays. There was excitement as approximately 30 little four-year olds exchanged stories of Santa, what they got and what a great time they had. We were becoming social animals, we were developing people skills, confidence and learning to express ourselves.

One of the most striking memories of that year was the amount of praying we had to do. We were up and down all day for a morning prayer, the Angelus, and in the afternoon we would top it all off with a big finish, 'Hail Holy Queen'. Some people struggled with learning the words of such long prayers. Those people winged it. Winging it was a great skill.

We learned songs, some of the Republican tradition. I remember tuning forks and out of tune singing. I remember enthusiastic singing, out of tune but enthusiastic.
We also developed empathy. Empathy for the classmate that was getting slapped by the teacher. We have moved on, and that is good.

We walked home from school at dinner time. We had our dinner at dinner time and after school we walked home together. These were not formal arrangements, they we gloriously informal but they became habits, enduring habits, part and parcel of the friendships that we formed.

Our writing, reading, and maths skills improved during that first year. Wonderful art emerged and got hung on the wall. Awful art emerged and did not get hung on the wall. There was no sentiment, the good ones one got hung on the wall and the bad ones like mine didn’t. Such exclusion-built character and made one ambitious for a place on that wall.

In my case, it took me three years. I still remember it as one of my finest achievements. It was a cowboy. I put everything into that picture. I can still see it on that wall. I honestly felt that I had peaked that day, and perhaps I did!

As winter turned to spring, we had our first Easter preparations. Our praying intensified, and we learned about Judas and Palm Sunday and the Apostles and the Last Supper, betrayal, crucifixion and the whole religious shebang. Jaysus, we hated Judas, an absolute rat, in our opinion!

We put in a good shift that Easter and there were crucifixion pictures flying up on the wall. And then the summer holidays... Just before the summer holidays, we posed on the steps at the side of the school. It was a breezy day. We wore short pants, we had bad hair, we wore non-branded jumpers and there were some who demonstrated that they were 'hard on shoes'.

The photographer captured the moment: A bunch of small Nenagh boys captured for posterity, the class of '69. Friends, comrades, acquaintances, but all with something in common. We had shared an amazing experience of learning, socialising, laughing, enduring anxiety and, of course, we had done a lot of praying.

To the class of '69: You are all great people. A reunion photo is planned for later in the year; if you are interested in participating please email
corriganbrothersmusic@gmail.com.