I was expelled from boarding school, shadow follows me

Apple Martin, daughter of Gwyneth Paltrow and Coldplay singer Chris, has released a statement. Which is better than a debut album, I suppose. A false rumour had been circulating online that one of the world’s most famous nepo children was once expelled for bullying. So, to stop the Mean Girls in their tracks, the 21-year-old model published this statement on her Instagram page: “Just a quick little message from myself. Hi! I didn’t wanna respond, but this narrative is completely false and has gotten so out of hand. I have never been expelled from any school, especially not for bullying anyone.”

The message has since been deleted — and probably not just because of its lapse into Californese and incorrect use of the reflexive pronoun. I would hazard that it was the slew of insults that the post attracted. Which, ironically, might be considered as bullying. But even if Apple had once been expelled... so what? As someone who was expelled from three different boarding schools, it amazes me how much it still defines me — to other people. I was once introduced on a political show on Radio 4, by a well-known presenter, who had obviously got my biography from Wikipedia, as “Ava Vidal, comedian, journalist and social commentator who was expelled from three separate boarding schools...”

I don’t know if he expected Radio 4 listeners to be scandalised or quietly impressed. I’ve never thought of it as an “achievement”, and wondered why he thought it relevant. Before you start wondering whether I’m some kind of delinquent, let me explain. There is a different standard of behaviour expected at a fee-paying school, compared to a state school. At the former, they have no obligation to keep you there. Forget the exam league tables — any bad behaviour that might reflect badly on the school’s image and you could be asked to leave.

But there is also a variety of reasons that these types of schools are willing to turn a blind eye. You could be a complete pain in the backside, but as long as you keep scoring tries on a rugby pitch, they may well be willing to overlook it. Especially if your father also contributed the money that pays to maintain the rugby pitch. From an early age, we knew the quid pro quo. (I knew those Latin classes would pay off). Thanks to social media, I’m in touch with quite a few of the people I went to school with. I’m a little more left-leaning than most of them, and once got into an argument with one who went on to join the Army and was proud to have served our country.

I didn’t appreciate that, and let him know. His response? “Haha, you got expelled from our school anyway!” Did he really think that would upset me — and that it trumps a racist remark? The reasons for my expulsions weren’t terrible. At one school, I snuck out of the grounds and went to the local shop in my school uniform. The minute I left, the shopkeeper called the school and let them know that I’d been in, and that I’d bought gobstoppers, red liquorice and sherbert dips.

When I was hauled up in front of everyone in the dining hall, I was astounded. I also thought I was so smart when I said, “So how do you know it was me?”, forgetting that the only other Black pupil in the school was my brother. The interesting thing is that teachers never referred to expulsions — you were simply asked to leave, and saying no was not an option.

At another school, I was a constant, low-level nuisance. My parents were extremely strict, and school was the only place I could misbehave. In trying to discover myself, I had become quite political and had the bright idea of starting a local chapter of the Black Panthers. I decided to stage a sit-in, annoying everyone. I was on my final warning when I made friends with some local kids and helped them steal the school’s canoes. That was a wrap for me.