Small schools are something

I do know something about. I started my schooling at one which had just four teachers. It was actually considered to be quite a large school in a rural area. 

I should not have been there at all really but Mum was anxious to have me out of the house. She had my two year old brother and my four month old sister at home. I was four and a quirk of the system which said you could begin school the year you turned five meant I was eligible to go. It did not matter in the least that I would not be five years of age for another eleven months. I could read. It was time to start school. 

I did not particularly like school. For the most part I was bored by it. My "daily diary sentence" would be written down for me but the teacher would get impatient when I wanted "big words" even if I could spell them. Words like "extendable" (in relation to a ladder) and "thermometer" were not supposed to be in a five year old child's school reading vocabulary.  I was allowed to use them only because I could spell them. Yes, I must have been a very "difficult" child.

I only had a year at that school before the Senior Cat was transferred back to the city. I was sent to a big city school and in the infants you went from "reception" to "lower one" to "upper one" and "lower two to upper two". I was put in "upper one" because of my age. I lasted the first of the three terms and was put into upper two where I probably continued to be a nuisance. 

It was not until I reached what was then known as "grade six" that the Senior Cat was "promoted" to be the teacher in charge of a two teacher school. Mum went back to work then and she taught the first three years of school in one room. My father had everyone else in the other room. It meant the older children had to work alone sometimes. He had four "grades" he was supposed to teach and then the supervision of the correspondence school lessons for the "year eight" students. It says a great deal for the strength and stability of their marriage and their ability to teach that this arrangement actually worked. All the same it was not an ideal situation. The Senior Cat was aware of that but knew we were better off than the school with just eight children in it about an hour a way. There was another one in yet another direction with eleven children. Ours was a "big" school with the forty-four or five enrolled in it. 

At the primary school level these small schools were managed. Get a good teacher or teachers and they could even be good schools. Get a bad teacher or a lazy one and children did not learn a great deal. It was often seen as not being of any particular concern. The boys would go back on to the farm as soon as they reached an age where they could legally leave school. Some of them did not even do correspondence work and our Correspondence School, along with the School of the Air, was very good indeed. The boys though would sometimes repeat year seven twice or three times. Each year, before school had ended, they would be at home helping with the harvest. It was expected that the girls would, with rare exceptions, get married. It was only the children of the "floating population", those who were there for only a couple of years before being moved on, who were thought to be interested in doing more. 

The Senior Cat tried to change that and did succeed in seeing a couple of more able children sent off to board with families in a more distant town. Boarding school was not an option, people could not afford it in the most remote areas. 

I look back on it now, after reading a description by someone of their school days, and realise it was not a good education. Even the best teachers could not give a bright child a good education. You could get "doubly promoted" or "skip a year" and that was about it. My brother and I were fortunate in that the Senior Cat organised our membership of the Country Children's Lending Service and the librarians there sent out the six books we were permitted to borrow (they came as parcel post on the twice weekly train service) more often than was really allowed. He also encouraged us to listen to "the Argonauts", a children's radio program. We were always thrilled when our letters to Mac were read on air. 

We missed out on a lot of the resources available to city schools, or even larger rural schools. At secondary level I was never able to study a modern language. The Senior Cat gave me Latin lessons when he had the time. I had the textbook and was really expected to teach myself.

But there were two things which did happen. The first was that I had to find out how to learn alone. I had to learn without adult supervision. I am not sure it taught "self-discipline" but I had plenty of curiosity about the things which interested me. Did that help? Yes and the Senior Cat encouraged me and my brother. We had books and we were encouraged to do things, make things, find out about things. 

The other thing that happened was that, like all other children in the school, we knew that older children were expected to watch out for younger children. It was not just that you might have a younger sibling in the same classroom (and certainly in the same school) but out in the playground there was always someone watching. We might not even have been conscious of watching but we did, especially the girls. Disagreements were broken up quickly. If a small child fell then an older child would deal with it unless they thought an injury deserved adult attention.

I don't think that happens now. In big city schools the adults dealt with things we thought of as our responsibility. In rural schools I am told teachers are too worried about liability issues to let it happen the way it once did. It was part of growing up back then and we might just have been better off because of it. 

"Please make an URGENT appointment

to see Dr....." was the text message. Yes, alarm bells were ringing - for the wrong person.

I had a panicky call from a very elderly friend yesterday. She had just received the message asking her to make the appointment. She had no idea who the doctor was and she has not seen her own doctor since early January. 

"He didn't say anything was wrong. He isn't even there right now. He's taking leave."

I wondered if her GP had made an error of some sort and a locum had picked it up. "We'll get it sorted," I told her. I took a copy of the message and went off. Her doctor is a member of medical practice with multiple doctors. It is busy but they know me as I have occasionally been in when other elderly people have needed prescriptions picked up or there have been other issues which don't breach privacy concerns.  This time I was less certain but I told the nurse at reception what the concern was and then I asked, "Could you please just check it is the right person. There is someone else with the same name..."

It has happened before. It is a very common surname and they both go by the same given name. Yes, that is what had happened. The nurse at reception took a deep breath, thanked me and apologised. "If I get a chance I will call her later and reassure her."

I doubt she did it. There would be no time for that but the incident worried me and it worried the nurse. Someone had blundered somewhere. Possibly it was not catastrophic but it was still alarming.

I suspected because I have had something like that happen to me. My GP had started talking to me one day and I had to stop her and say, "Are you looking at my case notes or someone else's?" She stopped and swore and apologised and started again. No doubt the mistake would have been discovered when a prescription was printed out in someone else's name but it happened. Ever since then I have been acutely aware of the potential problem. 

The son of friends of ours was nearly given a second dose of warfarin when he was in hospital. He was just alert enough to realise what was going to happen and managed to stop them. In that case he had been transferred from a high dependency area to a lower one and the message had not gone with him. 

Mistakes do get made so when there is a story about overworked staff at one of the biggest hospitals I am concerned. My elderly friend was just sitting at the table waiting for me to come back. Yes, I could have tried to sort it out over the phone for her but the clinic is literally just around the corner and I could make the time.  I am thankful she was alert to a problem, that she could ask me to help. She gave me a rather shaky smile and I left her to her rather late breakfast and the paper she still has delivered.   

$180 an hour for a shower?

Oh yes the government "changed the way it works" recently, "it" being the assistance package some elderly people get to remain in their own homes. Prices were supposed to be "fairer" under this. They have gone through the roof to the stratosphere.

The late Senior Cat had a "package" which entitled him to three showers a week. It was all the assistance we were able to get. Yes, we paid for it... when we could get it. We accepted it because we were told it was "safer" for a "trained person" to do the job of assisting him and it was one less thing I needed to do.

The reality was very different. For a start we never knew who would be coming, if they came at all. They might be male or female, old or young, experienced or inexperienced, capable or incapable. They might, if we were fortunate, speak English. On one occasion I actually had to hastily print off a communication board I had written for another purpose so I could try and explain that something could not get wet (or we would need to change the bandage). The very young lad who came that day took the piece of paper away with him and told me "asante" (thank you) over and over again. We never saw him again. He had no idea what to do and his English really was minimal. I don't think his Swahili was that great either as he really spoke a related language. 

We had a Chinese woman come for several months. She was lovely, had some medical training and her English was good but she had to bring her young daughter with her during school holidays - and expected me to watch her. 

The Senior Cat was able to explain, to tell people how to help. He was however growing hard of hearing and, add in some heavy accents, he had problems understanding people. It worried him that he would upset them.

In the end we simply gave up. Middle Cat and I took it in turns. We also made sure he had a shower every day in very hot summer weather. It worried the Senior Cat that we were doing it but Middle Cat knew how to do things and taught me how to do it safely. 

Yes, I suppose it also saved some money but we were not being charged anything like the equivalent of $180 when other people came to do it. We could do a more thorough job in about half an hour - undress, shower, dress. (He could still shave himself with an electric razor.) People said we were "lucky" we could do it. No, we were not lucky at all. It was hard work but we felt infinitely happier about doing it ourselves because we knew it would be done in a way that made the man we adored feel safe and comfortable. 

This is the problem with the "in home care" system. There is no chance to build relationships, to understand how someone's needs can be best met. Despite claims to the contrary those doing the job are not well trained, if they are trained at all. They might get as little as fifteen percent of that $180 and are unlikely to get more than twenty percent even if they have a certificate. It is poorly paid work. 

There is someone I know working in the administration office of an organisation which provides some of this "care". She tells me the boss has just bought a new car and she will be in charge while he has an overseas holiday.        

Are "queers for Palestine"

really unaware that being gay or lesbian in Gaza is not acceptable? Are they aware that it could lead to their deaths if they openly acknowledged their sexuality in an Islamic country? Do they believe it does not somehow apply to them?

When I was very young homosexuality was still regarded as a criminal offence. My family actually lived next door to a male couple for a while. My memory of them is as perfectly ordinary, perfectly pleasant people who just happened to live together.  As an adult I wonder what sort of strain they were living under.  My mother certainly did not approve of them. We children were told not to talk to them. We did of course, children do. My very definitely heterosexual father was a great deal more tolerant and would often talk gardening issues with the older of the two men. 

Perhaps the interesting thing is that apparently nobody ever gave these men away. They were much more willing to accept what the older man gave away from the garden. I suppose he must have been retired. He seemed very old to me. He did not seem to go to work. The younger man did. He would ride off each day on his pushbike with his kitbag strapped to the back.

Although I cannot remember that much about them I do believe they would not have supported any political group like "queers for Palestine". None of the gay men I know, and I know quite a few, would support such a group. They come from across the political spectrum but none of them have time for this sort of "activism".  

It was only yesterday that one of them voiced his concern to me about the group as we waited in the queue at the Post Office. He spoke to me very quietly to say that a young lad we both know had been fortunate not to be badly injured in an attack on him by a group of youths. I had not heard about the incident. The boy in question is not gay. (He is, quite simply, just quiet. He has medical issues which in no way relate to his sexuality but do tend to keep him from the mainstream.) Apparently the mere thought this boy might be gay was enough for him to be the subject of an attack.

I have no doubt this boy's attackers believe they were justified and, given the opportunity, they would do it again. They have been taught to believe this. Are they likely to change? I doubt it. It will be deeply ingrained in their psyche by now.  

So why do groups like "queers for Palestine" exist? It seems to be such a contradiction. Do they also support wife beating?  

 

  

Mind your own children while

you are "having coffee" with your friends!

I am still feeling a little shaken and, perhaps, stunned by how fast I managed to move yesterday. Yes, I know it is a pedestrian crossing too but the small one on it was entirely alone.

We have a pedestrian crossing outside our shopping centre. It is one with constantly flashing lights which requires drivers to slow down and then stop and give way to pedestrians who are crossing. 

I was coming up to it yesterday when I saw a very small figure coming in the opposite direction. There were also cars coming on either side - and, for once, nobody else around. Fortunately the cars were moving slowly and about to stop. They had seen me. They had not seen the small figure already about a metre into the roadway. He was not exactly visible from their angle. He was from mine.

Instead of taking my usual cautious approach I put on speed and I grabbed. He wailed. He struggled. He screamed. He tried to bite. Someone else came to my rescue at that point. The drivers went on with long blasts on their horns. I am not sure if they thought I was somehow responsible. 

"Yours?" asked the other person furiously.  

"No. I saw him..."

"Look I have to go...that's my bus..."

"Put him in my basket...come on you can have a nice ride..."

One small screaming, wriggling child was put in the large basket on the back of my little vehicle. Yes, it is a large basket but it was still only just large enough to fit a nappy wearing toddler. I kept firm hold of him as he screamed at me and wheeled into the coffee area of the shopping centre. 

Yes, there was his mother. She was sitting at a table with another woman. It was not until I was all the way down the little ramp past the ice cream place and I was visible to her that this woman actually noticed her child had wandered off. 

Her reaction is something I still find unbelievable. "Oh, he was playing with the train thing there. I thought he was all right."

I did not say a word. I did not say anything at all. I was too shaken and too angry. It was the other woman who asked me, "Where did you find him?"

"Out on the road," I told her.

There was silence apart from the sound of small child screaming. Right around me people looked shocked...everyone, except the mother. She just put him down on a chair and distracted him with a piece of biscuit. 

No, I was not thanked. I am not sure I wanted to be thanked. I would just have liked her to show some concern for her child's safety.   

Guilty until proven innocent

seems to be the way we now approach things.

The criminal law in this country is based, among other things, on an assumption that you are innocent until proven guilty. It is an assumption which is supposed to protect innocent people from being wrongly convicted. 

Yes of course it is not perfect but, at least for most of the time, it works that way. Recently something seems to have turned this around in the media. We have more than one story suggesting that someone is guilty of an offence even before the matter goes before the courts. 

There is absolute glee in the media when a former prince of the realm is allegedly guilty of a range of offences. Oooh he has been "arrested" and then "oh, but he hasn't been charged yet - never mind it is only a matter of time". That's the "big" story I suppose. Another peer of the realm has been arrested? Oh, more "good" news - for the media, for us to gloat over. 

What about some of the other stories going around. Someone in the sporting field is accused of rape. He's a popular figure. It can't be true can it? Oh, wait a moment...look, he's "someone's" son.

Little has been said however about some other very public figures who might also have been "guilty by association".  Apparently they are not newsworthy or cannot possibly be conveniently guilty of anything. Well, that's nice I suppose.  

Then there is the public servant who did their very best to sort out another alleged rape issue. They gave the alleged victim every possible assistance and the assistance was even acknowledged only to have it later thrown back in their face for the benefit of an opposing party in an upcoming election. (Yes, some of you will know to whom I am referring to but let's leave it there.)

Many years ago I met a man who had spent time in prison. He was innocent, indeed had simply been a passer by, but innocent people do sometimes get incarcerated. He was only released when a police officer was dying and admitted that he had lied in court. He had lied to cover up the wrongdoing of his sergeant. The sergeant himself had not given evidence. He had gone on up the ranks. The innocent man was released but the sergeant avoided any consequences for technical legal reasons. It was a long time ago now but the innocent man, a mere unfortunate bystander who had nothing whatsoever to do with the incident, was stained for life. Many people believed, still believe, he "must have been guilty of something".  It would not matter how often they were told he was innocent they would want to believe he was guilty of something. Human nature has a tendency to believe the worst rather than the best.

The same might be said of the "ISIS brides". I was told the story yesterday of one of them who, according to her once-friend, "was just doing what she was told to do". The story has come to me third hand. It is undoubtedly embellished but, if true, then is the once girl, now woman, guilty or innocent of supporting a terrorist group? How can we know? 

We have an election coming up in this state. Although the incumbent government is expected to be re-elected "in a landslide" there are all sorts of "nasties" flying around in the media. Accusations are being made. We are being told they are accusations and that they may not be true or even that they actually not true. They are however enough to do the damage. They are deliberately designed to do the damage. 

Guilty until proven innocent is not how it is intended to be but how useful it is if you want to do someone harm. 

 

Whether the "ISIS brides" should be

permitted to return to this country or whether they should be barred from ever returning is being hotly debated in the media right now. Most people who are commenting on it almost certainly have no knowledge of the law surrounding their right, or lack of right, to return.

Add to that the undeniable fact that the government has been assisting them in their attempts to return and the issues get even more complex. 

The question of whether they have the right to return to this country is actually easily answered. Yes, if they have valid passports, they have the right to return. You cannot stop people with valid passports entering their own country unless you take extraordinary measures. The government has not taken those measures and it does not appear they intend to do so. 

How did the women get those passports? They must have obtained them with the help of the government. 

Recently I had to renew my passport. It still had a time to run but you need a minimum of six months from your proposed date of return to enter some countries. I was not taking any risks. The complications of not having the correct documentation can be huge and very costly -financially and otherwise.  

In order to renew my passport I had to supply some information. I had to supply a new photograph in multiple copies. I had to sign the form and so on. This was just to renew a passport. 

Obtaining a new passport is even more complex. It can be done of course and people do it all the time. Doing it from anywhere abroad is more complex, much more complex. You need to be able to access original documents. You need to have others on the electoral roll and who hold certain positions to certify the person who is applying is who they say they are. Documents need to be signed and witnessed.

Why am I saying all of this? I am saying it because it would have been impossible for the women seeking to return to have obtained passports without the assistance of the present government. That assistance must have been taking place over many months. The claim that they have been giving these women no assistance is wrong. 

If they are returned, and they almost certainly will be, then they will likely be closely monitored for the rest of their lives. Their children will be monitored too. There will be restrictions placed on them. It will come at immense cost to the taxpayer and it is not just because these women will never be employed.

 Should they have given them assistance? Do these women have the right to return? Should we be concerned about their return? These are completely different questions. 

In all this we also need to remember there are children. It can be argued their mothers had a choice but the children had no choice. How we treat them is going to be a test of how we stand as a nation.