Living Life Twice

Last night we had friends for dinner and during the course of the evening I asked each person to name something they have never done that they assumed most people had done. Hmmm? They thought about it for a while and then began to share their respective revelations. Initially some were struggling to think of something, so I offered to go first. I shared the fact that I have never seen the movie ‘Avatar’ despite the fact that it is the most watched movie in history. I have never read a Harry Potter book. I have never watched the immensely popular television show, ‘Master Chef.’ Suddenly our guests came forward with their own statements. ‘I’ve never drunk whiskey.’     ‘I’ve never been to Bali .’   ‘I have never eaten snails.’   ‘I’ve never smoked a cigarette.’ –and so it went. It was all a bit of fun, and it certainly got the conversation flowing. All part of a great night in the company of close friends, sitting around a table sharing a glass of wine and delicious...

I read an article in my newspaper of choice this morning and it encapsulated all that I have feared for so long regarding high stakes testing. Australia has followed the lead of America and gone down the path of high stakes testing in schools. Since 2008 national testing (NAPLAN) has been part of the educational landscape in years 3, 5,7 and 9. It is therefore no surprise to find a 2010 survey of Secondary schools found more than two thirds spent more time on test practice since the Federal government went public with the test results on a dedicated web site called My School.   Some schools have begun spending increasing amounts of time and energy ‘preparing’ students for NAPLAN. The outcome of this is the narrowing of curriculum options and more time devoted to teaching to the test. The problematic ‘test prep’ becomes the panic button by which many teachers operate. They abandon teaching in ways they know to be effective and begin a regime of practices t...

Following a summer punctuated by grey skies, rain and humidity, this March day was glorious!   31 degrees Celsius ( 88 Fahrenheit)   and every man and his brother seemed to be at our local beach. In their minds people probably thought as I did, -this could be our last beach day until November. I listened to the voices of small children bouncing over the surface of the water like flat stones being hurled. Jet skis in the distance provided a backing sound not unlike the buzz of blowflies. The outline of city skyscrapers were fuzzily etched on the horizon and sail boats grabbed what breeze they could find as a family played an impromptu game of beach cricket on the sand exposed at low tide.   The sea was like the surface of a table. The smallest of waves rolled over submissively at the water’s edge creating effervescent bubbles that quickly faded in the way that champagne bubbles tend to do. So after an hour of sitting under my umbrella watching the passing parade and read...

Every summer thousands of eager beach goers access the steps that provide the closest access to Mills Beach .   On the way down they step eagerly, in their rush and nervous haste. They display an almost cowabunga air as the sea air enters their nostrils and they come in sight of the sea.   They make light of the beach paraphernalia they carry, - umbrellas, towels, small children, hampers, boogie boards, beach balls, folding chairs and the like.   Scampering keenly across the burning sand they reach the relative cool of the sand near the water’s edge… The journey back up the steps generally involves a slow clamber. All the beach gear seems a little heavier this time around and sandy bodies move less freely. The prospect of being greeted by a sun drenched car seat is less than appealing. Small children complain about being tired and whine about sore legs and the sudden need to be carried.   Same steps, different approach... Now that summe...

It’s midweek market day in my home town of Mornington . Stall holders are spread along the entire length of the town’s main street. The market is held every week. It’s seems like its always been there. Prams and pedestrians jostle for space on the pavement in front of the shops. The stallholders have taken over much of the available space, so negotiating through the human tide is a struggle. I am walking In the midst of the crowd as a small boy maybe six years old makes a spontaneous, and somewhat inappropriate decision. Before anyone can say ‘No!’ he places both hands on the ground and launches into his best imitation of a handstand. Momentarily he pauses, shoes pointed towards the heavens, before his legs commence a slow and inevitable downward arc to reconnect with the pavement. As he returns to his previous upright position and valiantly tries regaining composure, his slicing feet barely miss a fellow market goer who is forced to avert her head to avoid being pole-axed.   Hea...

There was a time when one found misplaced shopping trolleys, particularly those with wobbly wheels, abandoned in splendid isolation far from the supermarket of origin. They showed up on street corners, in residential gardens, in laneways, hanging in trees or worse still, up-ended in the nearby creek! They were often  sighted quite some distance from their natural environment.   But times have changed... With the advent of coin release systems for trolleys, they seem to be making fewer breakaways. There is greater accountability for their whereabouts.  However, when they dash for freedom you now tend to find them in clusters –still some distance from home, but no longer alone. These wandering produce conveyances have adapted it seems.     Today on a street corner a short distance from the nearest supermarket I espied three pathetic trolleys trying to look inconspicuous. Little did they realize how much more visi...

Exactly one week ago as I opened my suitcase of surprises, the assembled grade 3 students peered forward hoping to gain an advanced sighting of the contents. I had brought a collection of Writer’s Notebooks to share with them. During my previous visit I had informed them that I would bring some notebooks to share. In the interim students had gathered some artifacts and made preliminary lists of things that they considered potential topics for their writing, but neither the teacher or her students had much previous experience with Writer’s Notebooks. They quickly formed into groups of three and I distributed the notebooks.   ‘I want you to be readers and researchers. I want you to be text detectives and make a note of the different types of entries you see captured in my notebooks.’ I wanted these less experienced writers to see the broad influences on my writing. I wanted them to understand that these books represented a gathering of ideas and my...

Today I entered a classroom carrying a paper shopping bag. A simple unadorned bag made from recycled paper. ‘What’s in the bag?’ students asked somewhat predictably. Such is the natural curiosity of children. ‘All shall be revealed in time.' I replied like a magician of sorts. They settled on the floor in front of me and our writer’s workshop began… From the bag I retrieved artifacts to share with these Grade 5 students. I carefully told the story connected with each item. They listened actively, -keen to know more. In turn, I revealed the camera that my Father used all those years ago, a marble a small child left on my desk, my dominoes set from Mexico , my Ipod, a shell, a magnifying glass and finally a pen. Ah, but no ordinary pen! Oh no.   This pen is my pen of choice. It is a Uniball Gel Impact pen with black ink. It is the only pen I choose with which to write. It feels comfortable in my hand. When I am writing with this pen words seem to flow more easily. They ef...

We have just had new windows installed in the back section of our house. They have provided a more modern look and allowed the outside world to flow inwards. The windows fold back creating a direct connection to a covered outdoor deck. This provides an illusion of more space. Windows play such an important part in our homes and our work places. Sometimes we take the view for granted, at other times we totally dismiss them as irrelevant. I once sat beside a window in a restaurant in New York that provided a close up view of a brick wall.   In Venice , a window next to the canal enabled me to watch as gondolas glided closely by as I dined with my wife in a small trattoria. The placement of a window is a critical consideration.  I was fortunate enough during my time working in the US to live on the 27 th floor of a New York building in Midtown. Our small apartment was conveniently situated on the corner of the building, thus providing stunning views along two sides. We look...

I love the rush that accompanies buying a new book. The browsing and rummaging that precedes the purchase. The quiet and considered contemplation as one searches the shelves in the hope of finding a reading gem. Eventually I reach out and pluck a volume from the collection. I relish the opportunity to turn the book over in my hands and savour the words. I scan the cover thoroughly taking in the elements of the page before turning the book over, anticipating the blurb. If it’s an author with whom I am unfamiliar, I want to get to know them. I need for us to be more acquainted, the author and I. So, I open the book to see if the dust cover reveals information about this potential new friend. I am provided with the background information I seek. Pleased to meet you I think... Today, while visiting Williamstown I found a book by John Boyne, an Irish writer and author of the ‘Boy in the Striped Pyjamas’ .The book is titled, ‘Noah Barleywater Runs Away’ The word ‘runs’ is printed in slightl...