1968, I think. This one is painful, even 45 years on. It's Year 1 at school and at break we all go outside and play in the playground, unless it's raining in which case we all stay in the classroom. So of course, it's raining and there are 40 odd 5 year olds being rowdy, clowning around, making a noise. It seems odd these days, but we were just left to it - no teachers supervising.
In the midst of the hubbub, yours truly decides to be the comedian. Make everyone laugh. Be the centre of attention. Be popular. Say something funny. "Guess what I do after school?" Hushed expectancy. "I go to ballet!" Haha! Hillarious! What a wit! What a card!
No, just an odd silence for a moment. Then the chanting starts. "Xxxxx goes to ballet class, Xxxxx goes to ballet class..." in that way that only a horde of vindictive 5 year olds can.
Billy Elliot is just a movie. In 1968 that stuff just didn't happen, and I was a freak. Self confessed, and fair game. Amazingly, 5 year olds don't get bored with a simple chant, even after 15 minutes. Every time it rained. For a year. Remembering it even now feels like someone twisting a knife in my guts.
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