Evidence that not all of Fran's classroom decisions were wise

I once suggested to a whole class of 11 year old boys at a posh independent secondary school that they should use the term bombley-bombley instead of dog and try to persuade everyone they knew to do the same.

I was teaching them about how new words enter the English language and get included in the dictionary. This can only happen if enough people start using the new word and there has to be documented, written evidence of its continued use.

‘But we don’t call it a dog, anyway,’ the boys said with their flawless consonants. ‘We call it by its Latin name - canis lupus familiaris - and if we don’t, Mummy and Daddy put us in our rooms with no supper and take away our Playstations.’

No, of course they didn’t say this but I enjoyed making that paragraph up.

‘You can influence language change,’ I’d said to them. ‘Let’s start with the word dog. There’s no linguistic reason why a dog needs to be called a dog. The word dog has no relation to the animal itself. There’s nothing ‘doggy’ about the word dog.’

‘Do you mean there’s nothing bombley-bombley-ey about the word bombley-bombley?’ they said, and I knew I’d won them over (in a way this dog has not been won over by my idea).

I didn’t realise how keen my class of boys would be on the project and it soon began to get out of control.

You’d be surprised how many of our day-to-day idioms mention canines. So, I’d make the mistake of saying dog in the classroom and 30 hands would shoot up in protest. I ended up saying ridiculous things in the course of our English lessons, such as -

You’ve made a bombley-bombley’s dinner of that homework.

He’s like a bombley-bombley with a bone.

You’re in the bombley-bombley house for saying that.

It’s like bombley-bombley eat bombley-bombley in here.

Readers always favour the underbombley-bombley.

Your handwriting’s gone to the bombley-bombleys.

This character is a bombley-bombleysbody.

You can’t teach an old bombley-bombley new tricks.

You boys look bombley-bombley-tired.

Did you have a hot bombley-bombley at breaktime?

Soon, I began to tire of my own campaign and opted not to use Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time as our class reader.

I took The Plague Dogs by Richard Adams off the recommended reading list.

And the day I asked ‘What’s your favourite book EVER?’ and one boy wanted to tell us all about 101 Dalmatians, I made him choose a different favourite book ever.

The boys told me that, as I had instructed, they were trying to convince their parents and siblings to adopt the new term and were getting short shrift, particularly if their families owned dogs.

Things took a turn when the boys reported that persuading other subject teachers to say bombley-bombley instead of dog was getting less than sympathetic responses.

So, before I received a formal letter from the headmaster and my P45, I told the boys the campaign was over.

‘It’s not going to get into the dictionary, then?’ they said, crestfallen.

‘Thankfully not,’ I said. ‘Please turn to page 130 and complete the questions on possessive apostrophes.’

In a weird postscript to this story, at the time of the Bombley-bombley Campaign, I set up my own Youtube channel, posting videos of my very brief career as a stand-up comedian. I soon took them down as I couldn’t bear to watch them myself so it seemed unfair to inflict them on others.

But I’d made my Youtube identity @bombleybombley and now if I comment on any Youtube videos, that name comes up and others can see it. I haven’t worked out how to change it yet but I think it’s time. I did write to one Youtuber to say, ‘I’d love to comment on your brilliant videos but my profile name is bombley-bombley and I didn’t want you to think I was an idiot.’

I didn’t hear back.

Inside Fran’s Diary

Next Saturday 26 April I’m heading to Chippenham, Wiltshire, to share lunch with a very special book club and talk about ‘Cuckoo in the Nest’. One of the book club’s members is Bookaholic Bex. Bex is a fabulous and famous book blogger and has been uber-supportive of both ‘Cuckoo in the Nest’ and ‘Home Bird’. If I manage to get on the right train, going to the right place, in the right direction, it should be a really fun trip.

Sunday 27 April is my birthday. Sunday 27 April is my birthday. Sunday 27 April is my birthday. Sunday 27 April is my birthday.

Everyone’s welcome to this ‘Home Bird’ event hosted by the lovely people at Warwick Books. It’s on Tuesday 29 April and details are right here Please come along, and even better if you’ve read the book by then and have QUESTIONS!

How about this for a nice story? On Thursday 15 May, I’m going to meet the Solihull Women’s Institute group and talk to them about my path from foster child to author. This will be a very special event as I’ve been invited to the group by one of its members Hazel who was my social worker in the 1970s! Hazel got in touch after ‘Cuckoo in the Nest’ appeared on her Facebook feed as an advert (thank you, Legend Press).

Since then, we’ve met several times, after a 40 year hiatus, and now it’s all turned full circle and I’m going to speak to her WI group. If you’ve a copy of ‘Home Bird’, you’ll see that I dedicated it to Hazel and to another social worker Verity and to all social workers everywhere, because they jolly well deserve it.