‘My mother’s song at some point in history was All Things Bright and Beautiful, or Kumbaya or Cross Over The Road My Friend. It would have been her sat at the piano, in the hall of my primary school, playing hymns while the children sang. It was always a weird thing having her as a teacher at my school, because I was naughty.
In a white working class area that became a hub for migration, she was a pioneer for changing the curriculum into something multicultural. While she was married to my father, who was Jamaican, she could understand a Jamaican accent, which was a really big thing for some of the parents of the children who had just arrived. She always talked about his one woman who cried in the classroom during the 1960’s because my mum was the first teacher to understand her.’
- Hannah Lowe, London, Poet