BY AL GILKES

IF BY CHANCE you happened to attend Harrison College at some point during the ten years I spent in that secondary institution, you more than likely would be aware that I was among that category of students who are commonly referred to as "trouble trees".

As a result, although my reports consistently confirmed I was a good performer in my subjects, with the exception of mathematics, each "excellent", "very good" or "good" on my report card was inevitably accompanied by comments such as "too talkative in class", "disruptive in class", and "needs to follow school rules" by respective "masters".

And so it was that in their efforts to make me conform to the lofty tradition of behaviour that was the hallmark of a good "College boy", my masters used three corrective measures.

Firstly, it was giving me hundreds of lines to write all starting with "I shall not . . . ."; secondly, putting me in detention after school; and thirdly, when those two punishments bore no result, sending me to the headmaster's office for a caning.

My Waterloo for exhibiting unacceptable College behaviour came one morning when the headmaster called my name among those he wanted to see in his office after assembly. Although that had been quite common for me, it came at a time when I was preparing for my O' Levels, and my behaviour had been impeccable.

Later, in the headmaster's office, I discovered I was indeed right. I had done nothing wrong. I had missed no classes or detentions, had not disrupted any classes or been too talkative, had not failed to complete or submit homework, and had broken none of the school's known written or unwritten commandments.

So imagine my shock and horror when headmaster John Hammond informed me that it had been brought to his attention by a concerned member of the public that I was involved in an extracurricular activity that was not in keeping with the College's reputation and which was so disreputable that he had no alternative but to ask me to choose between continuing in that activity and continuing in school.

You probably think that the person who had reported me had discovered that I was involved in gang activity, or was a student in the day but a thief at night, or was spending my lunch money in Church Village with "Big Rose" (who notoriously satisfied the needs of the white boys who could afford to pay for her services), or was engaged in some other shameful or illegal practice.

Believe it or not, I was being asked to choose between my pastime of playing pan in a steel band with persons my own age, appropriately named Teenagers, and completing my secondary education. Such was the contempt in which entertainers and musicians in any genre of music other than classical were held by traditional Barbadian society.

Unfortunately, this snooty attitude remains very much alive in the frequent criticism of dubbing Barbados the entertainment capital of the Caribbean, and the persistent calls for restrictions on staging concerts and other entertainment activity.