Where do we get our education from now?

Image via: Pixabay

My first born is about to start school and the twins soon after. The last five years feel like they have passed quickly and I hope that I've prepared them. I try my best to be a very aware person and to pass that awareness on to my kids. Kids don't learn too much from what you tell them, I've realised. They learn from the activities they experience and what they observe. Then, when they get out into the world they make up their own minds. My main aim is to make sure we have an open and nurturing relationship so that we can keep growing together. I want them to see me as a safe place. Somewhere they can offload all their worries and fears, their sadness and their rage, without apprehension that they will be judged, disbelieved, or that their feelings will be minimised and denied. I have made it a point to behave in that manner with them. I don't hide my feelings from them and I explain my behaviour. I don't try to protect them from the harshness of reality. They know that I get sick, I get sad, I get angry and I get fed up. They also know that these feelings are the necessary flip side to living a happy, exciting, curious and empathetic existence filled with love. Without darkness, there is no awareness of light.

I finished school a millennium ago. Ok, not that long, but high school graduation happened in 1992 and I only spent 3 years at Uni to get an Arts degree, then immediately started full-time work. My education only accelerated once formal education ended. In many ways, institutionalised learning only stifled me and taught me the stuff I didn't need. The stuff decided by bureaucrats of the dominant paradigm, and while there were probably female individuals who were from non-white backgrounds and with gender fluidity, the system itself was male, straight and white. It still is. So I'm prepared. I know that the kids are going to get the basic, systemic curriculum - reading, writing, maths, art, "history" - the blanks will need to be filled in.

I think about how I filled in my blanks. When I reflect on my education, I realise that it wasn't the place where I got most of my answers. It started there, certainly, but I guess that's the point of a formal education, to put you on a path towards learning and give you the practical tools to obtain knowledge. I read books, listened to music, talked to my friends and observed others. I got out into the world, through work and socialisation and talked to people. I watched movies and television and listened to the radio. As I got older, I ventured further afield and traveled, short distances at first, then broader. I looked for the commonalities between people from different places and tried to make sense of the differences. I questioned everything and the more uncomfortable it made others, the more resistance I got, the more it felt like I was on the right track. Not much has changed and I believe this is going to be the pattern for the rest of my life. I'm an eternal student. I think they make the best teachers.

Kids have so many other avenues for learning these days. They still have all the things I experienced, but information is now so freely available and accessible, it seems they have the sum of all of humanity's experience and thought at their finger tips. They can ask just about anything and they will get an answer. The quality of answers will vary, and it will be up to them to critically discern what is real and what isn't, so they too can fill in the blanks.

The fact is that traditional means of education have diminished in quality. We have an outstanding education system in this country - for some, not for all. On paper, our curriculum is adequate, but there are still huge discrepancies when it comes to who can access it, who it represents and who it benefits. There are massive gaps in funding, resources and culture between private and public education, many private schools are marred by the bleeding in of religious dogma and the execution of the curriculum is reliant on the luck of getting a good teacher, dedicated people who are still largely underpaid, undervalued and sometimes ill prepared. Systems are only as good as the people practicing them and if those systems are unjust and unequal, the content is going to suffer. We need diversity and we need open access. We need to redefine what education means and what its purpose is. We need to remind ourselves that education is a life long process that begins at birth and ends on our death bed. As such we need to consider how we as a society, share the load of raising and educating children. We need to stop compartmentalising education into separate categories of parenting, pre-school/childcare, primary, high school, tertiary and vocational study into an all encompassing way in which we nurture and inform each other at every stage of our lives.

At the moment, the bulk of early education falls on women. Whether they stay home in the early months and years of their children's lives, giving up their own education and employment to nurture their children, or return to work and lean on others, it is usually other women they end up leaning on. Early childhood educators are for the most part, women, and like teaching, it is an underpaid, undervalued, over worked and expensive to access profession. I didn't want to give up work when I had kids, but I didn't want to leave them for at least the first two years either. I couldn't afford the full-time daycare even if I did have a high-powered corporate career to maintain, which I didn't and never wanted. However, at the same time, the thought of leaving an 18 month old and 2 newborns with other carers was unfathomable and largely unavailable. I needed time. Not only to feel like I had educated them in the basics of existing: feeding, walking, toileting, hygiene, talking; I also wanted to witness those milestones and to be honest, there really wasn't anyone else to lean on, who wasn't already too burdened by their own life to help me. It is unfair to expect grandparents to raise your children, they've already raised their own. It's not realistic to burden other mothers who have their own children to raise and it's not an option to interrupt someone else's life with your kids, unless you're paying them. I wanted to pass on the knowledge that I had inherited myself, and to make sure it was prospering in a healthy way. We undervalue this practical education in how to exist in the world that we call mothering, instead fetishising it, only to degrade it when it suits. It is unpaid work or lowly paid when outsourced and we don't address its importance. When I say we, I mean the capitalist, patriarchal society that tells us it is women's work to care for young children. If this weren't true, men would be doing more, and I don't mean the basics of day to day tasks or even one-on-one care occasionally. I mean the mountain of mental and emotional labour that considers every aspect of a child's mental, emotional and physical well-being. If they did, workplaces would be assuming that when anyone becomes a parent, whether they carry the fetus or not, they would need quality time with their offspring to raise them. We would have free, quality and accessible child care, with educated and qualified workers who were paid exceptionally well. We would have flexible working hours and accommodating workplaces that valued productivity over time with 'bums on seats' and we would be seeing the education of children from day dot as a whole society's responsibility. As it is now, the education of children is struggled through as secondary to what is most important in our society; holding up the economy. In the long run, the current cultural system is its biggest burden.

So what else educates us? Our mass media, news outlets, television and newspapers are beyond a joke. Owned and controlled by a conservative and self-interested minority, the only real option to maintain your brain cells is to flick the off switch and use the paper to line your compost bin. 

Movies and music are a little more diverse and the Arts are always the place to find the truth of the human experience and lessons about how we navigate our existence. While mainstream crap is still shaped and manipulated by the zeitgeist, which is broken right now, there are always alternatives to be found. Visual arts, music, language, prose, poetry, story telling, creativity, the reflection of our beauty and pain is unbound and indomitable. And it is everywhere we look outside and in. When the Arts are not funded and valued properly, when there is an attempt to control, censor and stifle the Arts, that's when you know a society is sick and broken.

So, I'm trying to see this next step in my kids' journey as simply a change of scenery. Their eyes are going to be opened to new experiences and people and I wish for them to have the tools to navigate their external world in harmonious unison with how they navigate their internal world. That is the one that is most important. How they think and feel, what they want, what makes them happy and what makes them feel safe, valued and understood. I want them to know that no matter what they are doing, who they are with, what they see and hear, they are ok inside themselves and have a safe harbour to re-calibrate at home.

Mostly, I want them to know that learning is ongoing and in their hands. I want them to be curious, interested, excited and motivated about finding out new things. Even if that new information changes their mind and rebuilds them. As difficult as that transformation is to make sometimes, the way new knowledge can force us to crumble into confusion, throw us into a dark tunnel and see us stumbling aimlessly for a while, I want them to know that even in the shadows, they don't have to immediately see. They can feel around, trust and wait for the light that comes at the end, illuminating their path toward bigger adventures and opportunities and the absolute best version of themselves they can possibly discover.

Self-doubt and writing

 
Writing is one of the most liberating processes for me personally. I journalled endlessly as an angst-ridden teenager and young adult. It helped me to get my feelings and thoughts out of my system, read over them and make sense of them. The words were a true reflection of my disposition at that time. Sometimes it was poetry, sometimes black marks on the page. These days we blog or post on Facebook. Same difference.

The art of letter writing too, has evolved into emails and texts and I have to say, I'm ok with that. I would rather write short greetings, day-to-day catch ups or verbose soliloquies, than say them. Writing to someone is a great equaliser. They can't talk over you or respond their thoughts without considering your voice. They are forced to read what you have to say and then reply. I find it not only an efficient way to communicate but a leveler of the proverbial playing field.

Writing books has been a blissful and wrenching process simultaneously. I love nothing more than to sit alone and in silence; (this never happens, I write among the chaos of a young family most of the time!), and to thump out the work of my mind and heart on a keyboard. For me, the hardest part is definitely not the writing. Not even the re-reading, editing or re-writing. It's the sharing.

When I journalled, I assumed, and rightly so, that the words on those pages were mine alone. Nobody would ever read what I wrote. Maybe my children or grandchildren, or great grandchildren, after I'm long gone, would discover the chest of journals in some dusty garage and pour over the ramblings of their long dead relative. How romantic!

When I decided that I would write books and self-publish them, it was with the intention that I would manifest my desire, regardless of what an industry's rules were, and whether or not I was lucky enough to ever set foot in that world. Without the approval, hmm maybe that's the wrong word. Promotion? Endorsement. Without the endorsement of an industry: having a publishing house pick you up, give you a contract, market and promote you; without that machine of commercialism behind you, it's just you and your words, out there in the wind, naked and for all to see and judge or ignore. It's a bit masochistic because that is what I love most about self-publishing. That authenticity. It's just me out there. Purely what I have written, by myself, without much interference, with no one but myself to blame if it all goes pear shaped. It's very scary, but it's very liberating and I get control over the entire process of creating a book. I'm aware this may be a bit dysfunctional, but it's the only option I have to live out my dream right now. People don't have to read my books. They are not coerced or encouraged to, other than by my piss-weak self-promotion on social media, to my handful of followers (most of whom I'm convinced are bots!). And if someone does read my work, they don't have to like it. It's not trendy to. They don't even have to finish it. They can be completely indifferent. There's no popularity to cloud their vision or entice them. I have to say, I really like that. I can stay in the shadows.

But, and it's a big one, I'm still terrified about writing the wrong thing, causing pain, getting it wrong. Despite there being no real contractual consequences, (I don't owe anyone anything. I can write and publish the same word over and over again if I want to); despite that, I don't! I want to write something good. I want to write with integrity, honesty, emotion, passion, authenticity and fearlessness. I want my words to have impact. I want them to be enjoyable and entertaining, to make people feel and think. I want it to be the best it can be at the time I do it. Subject to change of course, and hopefully for the better.

It is now time to publish my second book, a prequel of sorts, in the trilogy that has become the guinea pig of this whole journey. And I am plagued by fear and doubt, which some may say means I'm on the right track.

When I wrote and published the first book I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. The story took 10 years to develop and building the architecture of a book, setting up a business from scratch and fulfilling the needs of this experiment were a massive learning curve. This second story was a smoother process, from the benefit of experience, but I have some major doubts. I'm getting to the main point, stay with me!

So, my biggest fear with the first book was creating and writing characters that were Aboriginal. I was terrified that I would get it wrong. I worried about appropriation mostly, and so many other issues that I had no idea how to even approach it. I asked questions, did my research and let my imagination and intention speak for itself. Then I came across a great paper by the author Anita Heiss who addressed this issue. Dr Heiss' paper talks about white writers and their fear of not getting it right when creating Indigenous characters. Whilst I still had lots of discomfort about my amateurism, my lack of experience, my limitations in research, I forged ahead and did my best. I worked hard to portray my Indigenous characters with sensitivity and respect and to ensure that it was clear that the voice of both the author and protagonist was clearly a white person. In this way, I did my best to be descriptive without appropriating. I'm not sure if I succeeded completely, I'm sure there is always room for improvement, but I worked really hard to get it right and as stated in Dr Heiss' paper, I simply could not omit an Aboriginal presence in a story set in Australia, and in particular, in the countryside.

The Indigenous characters have returned in the second book, and I hope to include them again in the third book. I felt more comfortable the second time around. They felt more real and accessible to me than ever. I felt better about writing them and even bringing them closer to the central narrative. Again, I wanted to make sure it was clear that the story was fictitious, the author and the protagonist were still white and still mostly describing, from their perspective, their experiences and relationships with these fictional characters, which sometimes exposed their bias and ignorance. Again, I have doubts and I'm sure there is room for improvement, but I'm happy to stand by that, and if necessary grow and learn. 

Now I have a new uncertainty and this one is a little harder to make peace with. In the first book (spoiler alert), the protagonist starts off being a heterosexual woman, who later falls in love with a woman, the protagonist in the second book. I had some concerns about writing from the first person about being bisexual, when I, the author, am not. How can I speak for someone's experience, when I haven't had that experience myself? Do I even have the right? There was no way to make clear that the author was observing the character, because the protagonist tells the story in the first person. I justified my actions by allowing myself to explore a "what if" scenario. What if I, a heterosexual woman, found myself falling in love with another woman? It's not entirely impossible. I delved into that possibility as the fuel to my creativity.

This time it's a little different. I have to say from the outset that it's too late and I can't change it. As I write this, the second book is in the final stages of publication. You see, this time, the protagonist is a lesbian. She discovers her sexuality in her teens and I wrote the story in the first person. It feels a little deceptive and I'm not sure that I have the right to do this. I have a million justifications. I tried to be respectful and authentic, it's fiction, I should be able to imagine characters that are far removed from myself. But it still doesn't make peace with the appropriation of a gay woman's voice. I knew the only way around it as I was writing, was to write from the third person, making it clear the author was a straight woman, observing and describing a fictional lesbian character, but I felt the impact would be stronger in the first person and I felt strongly about not 'othering' the character - I didn't want her sexual orientation to be trivialised. I am aware that I may have done the wrong thing. That I may have made a mistake, but I simply didn't know how else to achieve the continuity of the style of story telling that I began in book one. I even considered writing the third book in the third person to prove myself wrong, to highlight how I should have written book two, but I'm not sure I can. I even told myself that the central issues of the story in the second book weren't the sexual orientation of the main character. That family breakdown, relationship dysfunction, addiction and recovery were the main themes. That it doesn't matter that she happens to be a lesbian. But it does matter. Her orientation is central to the character's being and I have appropriated that voice as a straight woman, by telling the character's story in the first person.

Therefore now, all I can do is stand by my decision, whether or not it is right or wrong and let the storytelling speak for itself. The politics are something I am willing to admit I got wrong, and knowingly! It is not something I am only discovering now, or that has been pointed out to me. I knew it was problematic from the outset, but I did it anyway. I'm not hoping to get away with it and this blog in part is a way to address my doubts, not exonerate myself. Remember, the industry machine does not exist in my writing and publishing. There is no media attention, no social media mob, no consequences. Lucky for me. It is very likely that not many people will read this book. So I want to make it clear that I am aware and mindful of my possible misstep and that I am willing for it to be a point of discussion if it comes up for people who do happen to read this book and find it odd that a straight woman is writing from the perspective of a lesbian.

In saying all this, I am proud of the work I have done so far and hope to do more. I adore the characters I have created and their journeys and truly feel that the story honours the issues and themes I hoped to highlight. This year I hope to write the final book in the trilogy and bring all the characters together. It might make all the mistakes of the past worth it. After all, that seems to be the central message of the saga. That life is just a series of experiences and decisions that we make with the tools and knowledge we have in that given moment, and that in retrospect, these events form the tapestry of our lives. We don't live in a vacuum. We share our life's voyage with those who we are intertwined with through kinship, friendship, love and chance.

The second book in the Space trilogy will be available for purchase on Amazon on the 14th February 2018.

Why Books are Magic, Especially for Children

When I was a child, my nickname was Booka Book. I repeated the phrase over and over again: "Booka booka booka booka", whenever I wanted a book. My parents gave me books, they let me flip through the pages and absorb them, they read to me. Golden books and Lady Bird books were favourites and I still have many of them, that I have now passed on to my children. 

My kids are at the age, (my eldest is three and a half and the twins are almost two), that they are finally appreciating books. They no longer squirm and lose interest and become distracted when I try to read to them. They will sit together immersed in a pile of books, alone with the pages and the stories inside. Sometimes swapping between themselves, the eldest 'reads' to the siblings, reciting from memory what happens on each page. Sometimes word for word from those stories that rhyme or making up sentences as the pictures come to life in the mind. The twins are transfixed when they listen and jibber away in their own baby language, when they have a book to themselves. 

We have finally nailed down the bedtime story ritual. Whatever happens with books during the day, at bedtime we choose one or two books, sometimes three if it's early, and I sit on their bedroom floor and read to them. For the most part, they listen and join in. They know the last words of a familiar rhyming sentence and we say it together:

"...and his favourite food is roasted....?"
"FOX"

That's from The Gruffalo. It's a favourite in our house. So is The Gruffalo's Child, Room on the Broom, The Paper Dolls, in fact anything written by the incredible Julia Donaldson. 

Another staple in our house is anything by the incomparable Lynley Dodd. Hairy Maclary and his friends visit our place often and they are as familiar as family members.

These days, our children are so lucky. Not only do they get to delve deep into their own imaginations through the magic of these stories, the books come to life in animated reality. Some of their most beloved tales have been made into cartoons that not only bring the pictures and words from the pages to life, they fill the gaps in the stories, highlighting the nuances that can be easily overlooked. Like in Room on the Broom. The dragon flies low and menacingly over a bog filled with a large toad and her babies. As he passes, they fart bubbles into the mud. That isn't in the book!

As fantastic as technology is, and it is, despite how much whining and criticism we hear about how everyone's face is stuck in a screen these days. So what! They once said novels would destroy young people's souls too. As fantastic as technology is, it still doesn't compare to flipping the paper pages of a colourful book. Children slow down. They go places while sitting still. They do it alone and independently and they grow as a result.

Solitude, self sufficiency, a quiet space to let the cogs of your brain turn and link up happens in a special way when you hold that bundle of paper and absorb it, letting it seep into your psyche and do what it needs to without distraction. Because that, to me, is the biggest difference between reading anything on the internet and reading a book. It's the volume of messages and pathways reaching out for your attention all at the same time when you're on an electronic device that makes your brain and your being travel too fast sometimes. That's not always a bad thing. It teaches you to be discerning and efficient. With practice you learn to skim and only take in the stuff that you need, the important information you require and discard the junk. But it's only when you're focused and expert at skimming that this works. Other times all sorts of junk falls through the cracks and derails your thinking. Again, not necessarily a bad thing. Who knows what you might learn by mistake!

A book, on the other hand, well it's a kinder journey. It's a cruise not a speed boat and sometimes the adrenaline flood is best put aside. 

When Casual Violence Against Women Was Totally Mainstream

Video source: YouTube.com

The other day I saw an old music video pop up on my news feed online. It was for the Lambada, the forbidden dance from Brazil. Oh the joy of dancing sexily on the beach in the 80s. Dirty Dancing and Footloose were hit movies around that time too. I watched it for old time's sake. I remembered the two children who danced so beautifully. If you watch the video, you'll see them.

I'd forgotten about the 'plot'. The young girl is working with her dad at what looks like a beach bar, while the patrons danced to the band. A young boy makes eye contact with her and invites her to dance. They embrace and start doing the Lambada. A fast paced, close bodied, hip swiveling sway. The children dance with precision, innocently. Doing the moves well and being cheered on by the other dancers.

Suddenly, the dad catches a glimpse of his daughter and exhales cigarette smoke angrily. He storms over to her and whack! SMACKS HER ACROSS THE FACE, (around 1:35). What the fuck! I forgot that bit! The actor just flicks the young girl's hair, obviously, but it's clear it's supposed to portray a slap across the face. Here look:

I'd forgotten about the casual acceptance of violence against women in mainstream popular culture in the 80s, perpetrated by fathers or partners. I got to thinking about other instances I could remember. Footloose was definitely another one. Ariel, the lead character cops it twice. Father and daughter have an argument and WHACK, he slaps her across the face. She also has a fight with her boyfriend. It starts off verbally, then she takes to his car with a bat or something and he slaps her around a bit.

I can't remember if there's a similar scene in Dirty Dancing too. I remember the father being angry at Baby about some stupid shit and her begging his forgiveness while he looked out over the water sulking and her telling him in tears that she loved him and then running away. He stays stoic through it, angry, unforgiving, until his lips start to tremble and he succumbs to his emotions once she's left. 

Video source: YouTube.com

It was interesting to think about such iconic movies and music that casually portrayed violence against women by a person in an intimate relationship with her. When I say interesting I mean outrageous. I don't remember an uproar. I searched online for articles or criticisms. Even footage or photos were difficult to find. I couldn't find reviews that criticised these plots. I momentarily comforted myself about the fact that it was in the past and things have changed for the better. I mean there have been some incredibly empowering films about women who escape or confront violence perpetrated by men. 

Thelma and Louise comes to mind. Although at the end of the movie, they drive off a cliff in a suicide pact. The original story saw them escape to safety in Mexico, but that didn't rate well with test audiences.

Once Were Warriors was another excellent film that looked closely at domestic violence. It confronts the culture of silence and shame that exists around family violence and addresses patterns and cycles of abuse and reconciliation better than any movie I can remember.

Sleeping With The Enemy is a lesser known film about domestic violence, even though it stars a huge Hollywood actress Julia Roberts. I don't remember it getting icon status like Pretty Woman did, even though the story line was a more realistic portrayal of a woman's experience. A woman is more likely to live Laura Burney's life than Vivian Ward's. 

Despite such great advances in popular culture and its attempt to address misogyny and violence against women, Hollywood executives seem to still be missing the point. I wonder if it is a deep seeded and subconscious male privilege or blatant and deliberate sexism known to bring in the big bucks and sell movie tickets in some sick fetishistic way. 

Recently, an uproar did ensue over the poster for the movie X Men: Apocalypse, which portrayed one of the male characters Apocalypse played by Oscar Isaac choking the character of Mystique played by Jennifer Lawrence.  

 

Image source: Huffington Post

I mean really?! I don't care that it's a still from the movie. I'm sure there were other more appropriate images the studio could have used.  

You may be wondering what the point to all this is. I mean, surely we can all tell the difference between popular culture, entertainment and reality. We see all sorts of injustices in movies and on TV and in music videos. That doesn't mean we are declaring those things are acceptable. Or are we? What level of desensitisation are we experiencing. 

When a rapist gets 6 months jail for brutally assaulting a young woman while she was unconscious, because he was a college swimmer and the punishment to his heinous crime might have an adversary effect on his future (never mind the effect of his actions on the young woman in question's whole life), it does make you wonder how one thing (popular culture) impacts the other (justice systems). The victim wrote the perpetrator a letter and it says everything so much better than I ever could.

You can't boycott everything, but you can criticise it and see right through it's bullshit facade. And you can change the script. I hope to see more scripts turned on their heads and I hope to see those ideals reflected in reality.