Last months prompt generated a lot of memories about toys we held dear to us in our childhood. All generations had those who had a stuffed animal that they loved until they cuddled the hair off it and in one case “the stuffing out of it.” It seemed that this was most likely to happen for the first born child and those whose personal circumstances were different from most. In all I thoroughly enjoyed reading the responses as it generated my own memories of toys forgotten. I can’t however draw any conclusions as far as generation and where one grew up.
This month I want to look at clubs. Clubs bring together like-minded people to carry out an activity together. They offer inclusion which is important in the human psyche. Does the generation in which you were born have a bearing on when you first join a club? My guess is that it does but your responses will let me know if my guess is correct.
When did you first join a club?
Why did you join this particular club?
Do you still belong to a similar club?
In high school I joined many clubs. There was the tennis club, girl guides, chess club and the ISCF (inter school church fellowship). I don’t remember these clubs being available when I was in primary school but I also don’t know that I would have been interested then. In high school, at least part of the reason I joined these clubs was because I wanted to belong, to be part of something and to be included. Now the reason I belong to the clubs I am part of is because of a passion with the club’s purpose. I don’t have such a need to belong. Or do we all have that need?
In my primary days, however, there was one club I was desperate to belong to. I wanted to be included as I wanted desperately to have company. I wasn’t interested in the club’s purpose – that of making model aeroplanes out of balsa. The club was formed by my brother and his friend Chris and they had been given permission to meet in the old manse in the room that held the printing machine for the orders of service. It was a large room with a huge old desk against one wall. My Father did not use this as he had his own desk in the office of the new manse where we lived. This desk was perfect for the construction of the planes.
It was like a secret club. They would go in and lock the door keeping me on the outside. I begged and begged to be allowed entry and eventually my brother succumbed to my pleas. But at a price. Membership of the club cost money – a whole months pocket money which we were paid weekly. I had no savings as I normally spent mine at the Popular cafe on lollies but now, so I could have inclusion, I saved all my money for four weeks.
I paid my money with excitement and was given entry to the hallowed sanctuary. Once. I was informed that the club was disbandoning and a new membership fee would be required to be paid to the new club which was being formed. I threw a sibling type of tantrum and although I can’t remember I’m sure I would have complained bitterly to my parents. I do know that I decided I preferred sweets and loneliness to building model aeroplanes.
Various United States of America
Working Class Northern England
In looking for a photo to go with this prompt I discovered that I had forgotten that I had belonged to another club in primary school. (Can organisations such as Red Cross and Girl Guides be deemed clubs?) I was a member for only a short time. I don’t know whether it formed towards the end of my primary school days or whether I was uninterested until then. I don’t know that I attended any meetings but I do remember we were joining the march on Anzac Day and the returned Nurses were very upset that we were wearing veils similar to their own and we had not earnt them. It was hotly contested and we ended up marching bare headed.
I’m looking forward to reading about your memberships in clubs. Leave a ping back for inclusion. The rules are here but above all have fun with your memories.