Pauline Johnson Collegiate & Vocational School
Pauline Johnson Collegiate & Vocational School in Brantford, Ontario, Canada is a composite high school with collegiate and vocational departments. It was named in honour of the Native Canadian poetess E. Pauline Johnson, who was born nearby.
The school was officially opened on October 18, 1955. In 1960 the fine new vocational wing was opened for use by the Technical and Commercial Departments making possible a full composite school. A second addition was completed in 1963. 1971 saw a further addition to the school to provide more needed facilities.
The Pauline Johnson Collegiate & Vocational School is situated on the Glebe Lot. This was part of the land which the Crown deeded to the Six Nations of the Iroquois Confederacy in 1783 to recompense them for their homes in New York State which they lost by fighting on the British side in the American Revolution. When the City of Brantford bought the Glebe Lot, the councillors of the Six Nations (of the Six Nations 40, Ontario) were asked to choose a name for the school to be built on the land. They selected the name Pauline Johnson in honour of the poetess whose father was a Mohawk nation chieftain.
The Thunderbirds of Pauline Johnson participate in various sports including soccer, football, basketball, track and field.
Read more about Pauline Johnson Collegiate & Vocational School: Student Council
Famous quotes containing the words johnson, vocational and/or school:
“Brothers and sisters rocking, a dread beat pulsing fire, burning.”
—Linton Kwesi Johnson (b. 1952)
“I think the most important education that we have is the education which now I am glad to say is being accepted as the proper one, and one which ought to be widely diffused, that industrial, vocational education which puts young men and women in a position from which they can by their own efforts work themselves to independence.”
—William Howard Taft (1857–1930)
“I’m not making light of prayers here, but of so-called school prayer, which bears as much resemblance to real spiritual experience as that freeze-dried astronaut food bears to a nice standing rib roast. From what I remember of praying in school, it was almost an insult to God, a rote exercise in moving your mouth while daydreaming or checking out the cutest boy in the seventh grade that was a far, far cry from soul-searching.”
—Anna Quindlen (b. 1952)