I was the only one in my class at Frizinghall Junior School in Bradford to go to Belle Vue Grammar School.
I remember taking my scholarship exam; I knew it was absolutely essential, and that if I didn't pass I would go to a school which would give me lesser prospects in education and in life.
Belle Vue was a single sex school; we were separated by a wall from the girls' school, but we had no contact with them, no shared social events at all.
Most of the teachers were at the end of their careers, and there was only one female teacher.
The geography teacher, Major Robinson, had fought in the First World War, and he ran the strictest regime of all. I suppose it was modelled on Army life.
I was good at English – language and literature – and I got a distinction in my School Certificate; which, perhaps, set me on my path.
We only ever had one school outing outside of Bradford, and that was when we went to Durham in the last year. I quietly marvel at the places I see students going to today.
I also see a relationship between staff and students today which is very different to what I knew. Staff addressed everyone by their surname, and so the pupils did the same to each other. It created a very different type of environment.
From the third form I knew I wanted to be a journalist. My father died when I was 14 and I knew going to university wasn't an option.
I'd written an article for the local weekly paper, so when I left school at 16 I approached the editor asking him to consider me for a trainee journalist position. I left school on the Friday, and started work on the Monday.
I always enjoyed my working life much more than my school life. School was an obligation and a duty; enjoyment didn't come into it.