RECENTLY I was fortunate to have the honour of joining the children and staff of West Linton School as they marched behind the West Linton Pipe Band with a great turnout of local people, to their wonderful new school. These are the wee jobs I get which compensate for some of the more difficult aspects of my job in council.

It was great to see the faces of the bairns, parents and grandparents, some of whom had also attended the Old School, as the ribbon was cut and they could file in to see the bright, light, spacious, colourful, fresh and welcoming new building.

Wouldn’t it be wonderful if somewhere there was a pot of gold to allow us to build more of them, in other places, where the facilities are not as modern and spacious?

The fact remains, however, that a building is simply that, a tool to allow teaching, and the most important fact, is that the staff make the biggest difference.

When walking round the new school I could not help but think back to my time at Stow School. I enjoyed my time there. I remember with a good deal of clarity being affected by losing Mrs Porteous so early in my school life, but moving through the primaries I enjoyed the experience and the fact that I made lifelong friends, many of whom still live in the village today. We understand so much more about learning. We understand the difficulties some children have, but we struggle to find the means to correct them. Not every child has a happy experience at school, even today.

Even my school life was not entirely happy however. My first life act of rebellion centred around the daily issue of milk. Our milk delivery came direct from Stagehall Farm, half a mile away, on a truck, so it was fresh. There were no fridges and in the summer the milk was usually warm. It was in the hard frosty days of winter, however, that I found the whole experience utterly disgusting.

Frequently the milk arrived in crates with the tops frozen hard and pushing up through the foil top. The solution, was to place the crates beside the radiators until the milk melted! The result of this was to turn the milk into a warm, almost undrinkable liquid solution of stuff, which I could not drink!

The teacher was less than sympathetic to my plight and insisted I drink it. It was, after all, good for me! My mother showed little sympathy, and I was sent to school, despite protestations.

One day, knowing what was about to happen, I escaped when break and “milk” time came. Not able to go home, I went to see my Auntie Peggy. Auntie Peggy had many admirable traits, but compassion was not one of them! Having had no children of her own I doubt she understood the modern child, especially boys.

I seem to remember a repeat of the ritual each time I visited. I was offered the sweetie tin, in which there were a few Pan Drops, a wine gum or two and maybe a Hawick Ball or a Berwick Cockle. Not that that mattered, however, because there was always a couple of “Odd Fellows” which had such a pungent aroma that everything within a yard of them took on their smell and flavour! I was allowed one before being despatched back to school and further trouble, both at school and at home!

Despite the more sensational aspects of the career of the late Rt Hon Margaret Thatcher, I have always looked at her act of removing the compulsory milk ration in schools as her crowning achievement, and a positive step in improving education in schools, even although by then I had long gone.

As each generation moves forward we improve facilities in our schools and improve the life chances of our children in the world wide competitive nature of education and achievement, which exists today.

It was almost 100 years between the building of the Old West Linton School and the New West Linton School. It seems unlikely I will be around for the next new build! What will a school look like in one hundred years? Will we still be building schools or will future generations of children be connected by some wondrous electronic gadget which connects them to a daily dose of data injection? I really hope not! School teaches more than Maths and English. Our social skills, community involvement, friendships and just the fun of being together with others is the most important learning experience of all.

If it comes to “daily data” or “daily milk”, even I would agree that “milk” would be the winner - by a very short head!

Councillor Sandy Aitchison Galashiels & District, SBC