Last night the planet Mars was visible to the naked eye for the first time in many years, and it reminded me of the first time I ever saw it. When I was nine, I had one of the best school years of my life, all thanks to Mr Penstone. I don't know his first name; back then I think we just assumed teachers were wheeled into the cupboard each night after school. It didn't occur to us that they were real people with personal lives and actual first names. In fact, the first time I ever saw a teacher outside of school (at the library, hardly scandalous), it freaked me out a little bit. I think I would have found it less weird to turn the corner and run into a gazelle…
Anyway, that was the year the planets went into syzygy, and went close enough to earth to be visible with a decent telescope. Mr Penstone organised an astronomy night for us and our parents. Somehow, the man had a couple of large telescopes at his disposal, which he set up on the school oval. We spent a chilly evening taking turns looking at Saturn, Jupiter and Mars, and my mind was blown by the idea that beyond the world I knew was this vastness in which other worlds and suns existed. I think it was the first time I realised that the stars just weren't a shiny backdrop for the night, but were in fact gas bodies much like the sun, just further away. A simple concept to grasp as an adult, but as a child it required a rather massive realignment of my personal world and my place in it.
That year was also the year I first learned about economics - Mr Penstone set up our class room as a mini economy. Each week we elected officials and could request different jobs. Some jobs paid better than others, and everyone worked every job at some point, but with a bit of organisation you could guarantee a better paying and cushier job than the kids who forgot to put their requests in by the deadline. The jobs varied from class mayor, to banker, to fetching the lunch basket to cleaning the classroom or banging the erasers. I tended to be a banker most weeks, as the pay was good and the job was simple - we paid people's wages and managed their bank accounts. This position had to be earned, as it required a lot of trust. Perhaps I could have embezzled and gotten away with it - I don't know - it didn't even occur to me to try at the time.
Interestingly, there were a couple of kids who consistently requested the banging erasers job even though it paid less - they just really loved banging the erasers. Some might say this was foolish of them. I say, they figured out how to live a happy life long before many adults.
Part of our income went to renting out our desks each week, and if we forgot our pencils or paper we could purchase more out of our wages. At the end of each week we held an auction just before Friday afternoon sport where people could auction off toys, food and curiosities. No loans were allowed - if you didn't have the cash, you couldn't bid. My mother obligingly made biscuits for me to sell - the Norwegian Kisses were the big sellers. The week I earned the role Class Mayor was an oddly proud one for me, but I was happy to return to banking the next week.
Which is ironic really, as I can't think of a worse career for me as an adult.
Mr Penstone was also into model trains, and after we expressed an interest in this (we were all still secret fans of Thomas the Tank Engine) he brought in the Train Set he was working on. It deserves capitals because the thing had a mountainscape with a tunnel, a forest and a working water wheel. He'd named it 'Two Rivers' because, well, it had two rivers running through it. They were dressed with layers of lacquer mixed with various blues, but actual water would run through them when it was switched on. He would work on the set during lunch time, and those of us who asked were allowed to make trees for the forest, which involved daubing the branches with glue and rolling them in a soft green powder. Some might call it slave labour, but we wanted to do it, and in hindsight, it was very good of him to trust a bunch of erratic kids with access to his precious masterpiece. For a few years after that I was quite obsessed with miniature models.
Mr Penstone also continued the early primary tradition of story time, and would read us a chapter at a time from Roald Dahl, C.S. Lewis, J.R.R. Tolkein and many more. We would sit on the floor around him in the reading annex and listen as he acted out the characters. There is something so soothing about having someone read to you that has never lost its charm for me.
Our science and history lessons included practical components that were great fun for us all. My favourite was an ancient history lesson where we were all presented with stones, wooden rollers, scaffolding and string 'ropes' and sent forth in groups to build our own Stonehenges. It was a challenge, let me tell you, but possible.
That year Friday the 13th was the best ever. He brought his archery gear in, and we got to take turns shooting arrows into the hill by the side of the oval. I don't remember watching a single film in his class; instead we learned by doing things for ourselves and discussing what we learned from the experience.
I don't know what happened to Mr Penstone - I think he left the school at the end of the year, but I know that I, and many others of that class, will never forget him. From discovering planets in space to rebuilding ancient wonders and constructing new ones, to killing that hill really dead, that year is full of wonderful memories that i treasure.
