Holy Family Convent Tooting Broadway 1930 36

A Memory of Tooting.

My mother is writing aother volume of her memoirs and suggested that I send you an account of her sojourn in Tooting whilst her mother was Matron of the Royal Dental Hospital and she spent six happy years at the convent school. This is part of chapter 5 of her current work:

Over the years, the Holy Family Convent in Tooting, had become a finishing school for girls from France. I don't imagine that their parents ever came to Tooting, but were quite happy to look at photographs of the school, that had a London address, SW17, and reasonable fees.
We always called them “The French Girls”, and in the seven years I was at the convent, I don’t remember ever speaking to any of them! They took lessons separately, ate in their own dining room, and wore shiny black overalls that looked very smart. They were llke background sounds, we kept forgetting they were there!
Although it was a convent school, large numbers of pupils belonged to other Christian sects. We were C of E but to my surprise in 1932, Buddy decided to become a Catholic. She never explained her conversion, but asked Uncle John what should happen to me. He wrote to her saying that he did not believe in parents and children belonging to different religions. If she was going over to Rome, she should take me with her. So I was baptised, with the opportunity of taking an extra name, and I choose ‘Cecilia’, then six months later, when I was confirmed by the bishop, I added another, ’Juliana’, and I would sign myself, JECJ Douglas.
The 1918 Elementary Education Act had raised the school leaving age from 12 to 14, and working-class children were expected to find a job then. At the convent, girls were 16 when they took ‘Senior Oxford’, and studies could continue if they were hoping to go to university. There was also a commercial class, with a course in shorthand typing, and this was very popular with those who hoped to work as a secretary.. I had no idea what I wanted to be, but I was sure it was not to work in an office, which is exactly what I ended up doing, in the Civil Service. My best friend, Evelyn, took the commercial course and when she left school, worked in the diplomatic corps, but years later, when she was nearly 50, gave it up and trained to be a nurse.
The academic standard at the convent was high, and it was a happy place to be. I was always called Dougie, and I was quite a naughty little girl, so I usually had to sit at a desk at the front of the class. Discipline was kept through the awarding of order marks, and every Friday afternoon, there was an important ceremony, when the whole school met in the hall at “Cards”.
Each group was led in by the pupil who had the best academic record in that week, and Reverend Mother had a table and chair on a raised dais. Class by class, we filed past her table and were presented with our card for the week. They were coloured paper - blue said ‘Excellent’, pink, ‘Very Good’, and green was ‘Good’. If you didn't get a blue card you were in trouble, as pink meant ‘not very good’, and green was positively bad. Your place in the mark list was recorded, and your parents then knew the whole story of your week in school!
There were even medals to be won. A round gold one, for good conduct, a silver Victoria Cross for being top of the class and a pretty oval silver one for music.The conduct medal was very hard to win as it meant you had not lost any order marks for the whole week. Your desk had always been tidy, you had never spoken in the corridor, or in a lesson, you had always sat upright in your chair, and, of course, had always been very polite to all the sisters. If we met one of the nuns outside the classroom, we had to bow and say, “Good afternoon', or ' Good morning, Sister”, depending on the time of day, and I still find it hard to meet a nun anywhere, without wanting to bow!
For ‘cards’, we all had to wear gloves, presumably a relic of Victorian times, when they would have been of white cotton. In the 1930's, brown leather rabbit-fur was all the fashion, and we would sit in rows, like aliens from a planet of apes, with fur covered hands at the end of each sleeve.
I nearly always got a pink card, so Buddy was overjoyed when, one week, I won all three medals, and arrived at the Dental Hospital, clanking like some war veteran, but I only managed it once!
The thing I was good at, was doing well in exams. I enjoyed the challenge that they posed, which I saw as making the best of the bits you did know, and hiding your ignorance of the rest. It was a very useful skill at school, and has remained so, all my life!

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