These recollections are from two former pupils who attended Westoe County Secondary School over 50 years ago. The South Shields school was on Iolanthe Terrace and closed down in the 1980s. It had a fearsome reputation amongst schools in the town.
MJ: You could walk past the outdoor toilets, get nabbed and have your head stuffed down the bog with the chain flushed. Plumes of smoke rose from the roofless toilets – I made a Prefect report on the smokers. I knew if I did, they’d kick my head in.
New boys could be thrown over the 6ft wall into the girls school next door. They were unable to climb back over as the girls would de-bag (pull trousers down) them and threaten them with used sanitary products.
Our most dreaded teacher had a bald head onto which he applied some strange lotion that left him wafting carpet cleaner as he went by. Pupils hidden at a distance would shout his nickname whenever he went by in the playground and he’d produce a little note book and jot in it pretending that he knew the culprit to be dealt with later.
He was once seen kneeling in front of his desk as if it were a sacred shrine. He told the kids he had his hair pulled out in a Japanese prisoner of war camp during the second world war. Other teachers told us to ignore him.
IT: There was obvious staff room conflict regarding his sadistic attitude to the kids and over use of the cane. I recall our English teacher deriding him to us a few times. I remember teachers rowing with him in the dinner hall on a couple of occasions.
MJ: We had an equally dread teacher, when you went into his classroom you’d stay absolutely silent throughout. Although sober he was like an inebriated Oliver Reed on a live chat show, you were on edge from the start fearing his unpredictable behaviour as he’d make it clear from the start, behave or he’d ‘crease you’ or ‘ruddy do you’.
IT: He was a terrifying man, well built with little patience, and there’d be a sudden burst of anger to any pupil he perceived to be play acting – as if anyone would dare – or gave the wrong answer during the lesson.
He kicked my desk on one occasion and it lifted a couple of feet in the air. I was terrified when he started walking towards me and feared he would lay into me.
MJ: Then there was another teacher who’d top up his earnings as a taxi driver. After handing out maths books he’d write out 10 sums on the board complete with answers and get us to copy them out then tell us to do the next 10 on our own.
We couldn’t do any to save our life so when we handed our books in for marking he’d mark the first 10 as correct and the other 10 with a cross. If you dared go to his desk and ask for help in doing one of the remaining sums he’d look up from his newspaper and say ‘Go away – you’re barmy.’
IT: I don’t remember him ever smiling. He was a humourless man. Seemed to me to be just waiting for retirement.
MJ: We only ever went on one school trip early one Saturday morning, a coach trip to Fountains Abbey. From the moment we left we were rowdy and when someone threw a shoe out the window after 20 minutes the teacher had the coach turn round and that was that.
Whenever rumours went round in an afternoon that nearby school Ocean Road were coming round at home time to scrap with us we’d break legs off wooden chairs in preparation but they never once turned up. The teachers never understood why in the morning they’d find all the chairs broken.
We once got involved in an inter-schools quiz – a posh lot turned up as challengers. We thought we’d have no chance but they weren’t all that hot and somehow we had equal scores right up to the last and potential winning question.
‘What sport is played at St Andrews?’ An arm shot up from one of ours. ‘Football’. ‘Incorrect’ came back the answer, they answered ‘Golf’.
We didn’t know about golf at St Andrews only that Birmingham City’s ground was another St Andrews. We wanted our hands on the winners but they received a hurried escort out the building.
IT: The fact that there are no Westoe School class photos spoke of the low value attached to schooling and futures of those in the lower education system. I reckon there must have been a Caning League mentality amongst some of the staff and a culture in which status was earned based on flair or disciplinary prowess. Maybe some had a City & Guilds qualification in caning. Perhaps the staff room walls were plastered with framed certificates.
MJ: When the school closed down I wonder if they left all their canes behind in a cupboard?
Ian Taylor & Malcolm Jensen
Edited by Alikivi May 2025

















