Homegrown Stories A Success for Kingston Arts

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Now officially an aged pensioner and semi-retired from teaching creative writing, I made a promise to attend more local activities to feed my soul and keep engaged with other creative arts.

An easy promise kept because my friend, Lisa encouraged me to take out a yearly membership and go with her to see plays at Shirley Burke Theatre in Parkdale. The offerings have been mixed but I thoroughly enjoyed ‘Underground’ and wrote a review which you can read here.

I usually write a post if I enjoy something or it piques my interest.  I’m not an experienced reviewer with any particular expertise but in the words of many an armchair critic “I know what I like!”

And I liked the sound of Six Moments In Kingston – Bus Tour.

Six Moments in Kingston is a public art bus tour that celebrates Kingston’s rich history. Responding to six infamous local stories, this ambitious public art commission features performances, music, street parades, broadcasts, sculpture and videos sited around Kingston. Audiences board a public art bus to tour secret locations where each story occurred…

Lisa didn’t want to go, so I booked for Sunday, May 19 but almost reneged because of the late night watching the depressing results of the Federal Election.

However,  I am glad I made the effort because it was a fantastic couple of hours and lifted my spirits!

I even met up with some friends who were ‘a blast from the past’ and so returned home in a buoyant, jovial mood.

Thank you Kingston Arts!

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The event was advertised as the biggest public art program in Kingston and judging by the full buses and well-organised and resourced tour (repeated over two weekends so you still have a chance to book!) the logistics and potential for hiccups must have had the organisers biting their nails.

But the tour is seamless and heaps of fun from the starting point at the front of Kingston Arts Centre to the end, by the tent installation in the carpark of the centre.

 

Curators David Cross and Cameron Bishop, together with a stellar group of contemporary artists, lead SIX MOMENTS IN KINGSTON, a dynamic series of six public artworks set in sites around Kingston.

Each artwork responds to an infamous local story, including the mysterious disappearance of aviator Fred Valentich in 1978, following his sighting of a UFO; a celebration of globally successful Parkdale rocker Rick Springfield’s worldwide hit ‘Jessie’s Girl’; Phil Carman’s infamous head-butting incident at Moorabbin Oval, and the story of Julie Cooper, Moorabbin’s first female councillor and Mayor. And much more!   

Hop on board a magical mystery bus tour to visit six delightful artworks in secret locations around Kingston! Each tour lasts under two hours. The bus tour features local stories told by legendary Australian actors, Michael Caton (The Castle) and Kate Fitzpatrick.

Six Moments – Six memorable Stories

tent installation one

While we waited for the bus two young women sat in a tent erected in the forecourt. This tent, linked to the installation in the Kingston Arts Car Park (both by artist Steve Rhall) and the story of the occupants told in depth when we were on the bus.

The installations, inspired by an event in 1982, honour Moorabbin’s protest histories.  At this site, two homeless schoolgirls set-up camp outside the town hall to proclaim what should be a fundamental right to all people – shelter.

homeless protest Moorabbin 1982
Image credit: Silent Protest, archived by the Kingston Historical Society, source unknown. 

It links to the work by artist Spiros Panigirakis, which refers to the removal of the historic ‘Grange’ homestead built on Kulin Nation land further down the road on Nepean Highway.

Whilst its future contested, the homestead became a squatter’s residence and at one stage it was suggested before its demolition, that it could become a women’s refuge or a hostel for the homeless.

However, the battle with developers was lost (sound familiar?) in 1983 and the Moorabbin Police Station was built and homelessness replaced in the news by other issues.

Story One – the Fundamental Right To Shelter – and to Protest

The bus drove us past the police station and as the story of ‘The Grange’ unfolded we learnt a little about the artist Spiros, his application to ‘paint the story of Moorabbin’s development on a purpose-built wall’ and the process of getting a Heritage Overlay.

spiros' house and original wall
Image supplied by Spiros Panigirakis of the potential site for redevelopment

This project reflects on the divisive and contentious debates led by a number of interest groups – arts, theatre, youth groups, accommodation services and commercial enterprises – around the restoration of The Grange, a prominent settler homestead built in 1856.

Redeveloped in 1977, the Moorabbin Police Station now occupies the old Grange site.

The project considers the site, the edifice of the Moorabbin Police Station and the suburban home of Tony and Dimitra Panigirakis in Moorabbin. It explores the notion of redevelopment through a series of fictional redevelopment proposals for the current site of the Moorabbin Police Station.

Using planning documents, real-estate hoardings and other public platforms that announce proposed redevelopment plans, heritage issues and planning approvals, a series of developer’s hoardings explore the notion of who controls redevelopment.

Working with Kingston Council landscape architects and urban planners, as well as his parents iconic Moorabbin home, Panigirakis looks at the ways municipal bureaucracy mediates redevelopment ideas and architectural propositions.

The work culminates in a series of installations across Moorabbin, and the production of an artist’s book that incorporates administrative and visual documentation surrounding the journey of the project.

 

As someone who doesn’t drive, my visits to Moorabbin are via public transport therefore many parts of the area I’d never seen before. It was fascinating and enlightening.

There were examples of a variety of architectural styles and I assume, it is the heritage overlay that has protected neighbourhood character of some of the streets and prevented Hilston Grove’s transformation into a ‘pigeon coop city’ with hastily (and in many cases shoddily) built apartments that has afflicted much of Kingston.

In 1977, the Grange was set alight and in the same year Spiros was born – I liked how the stories of the young girls attempt to get the authorities to do something concrete about homelessness joined dots and linked to the fight to save the Grange examining the big picture of neighbourhood character and housing.

We listened to the deep and soothing tones of Michael Caton as he explained how the history of the country could be told through the prism of Melbourne’s heartbeat – represented by Kingston (lots of smiles at that) – and the six stories would reveal the culture and the history of the area between the years of 1976 and 1981.

He supported the artists’ assertions that the image of Moorabbin as ‘a sleepy suburb‘ in the late 70s and early 80s ‘disguises a politically charged population actively participating in international protest movements.’

I came to live in Mordialloc, now part of Kingston, in 1984 but lived in other suburbs of Melbourne for the latter part of the 70s. It was good to be reminded of some of the ‘Headline’ stories of past media frenzies and to consider how close to home the events happened.

Story Two  – When Sport is Not Necessarily Sporting

I have to confess that most stories about sport – particularly sporting celebrities, leave me underwhelmed.

I played sport when I was younger and was captain of the hockey team at Croydon High School in the 1960s, played hockey for ANU Seconds in the 70s and for the B-grade team for the City of Croydon – I even played netball as a young mum at Mordialloc Community Centre until a fall and cracked sacrum made that inadvisable.

I am a team player but would rather play than watch sport and prefer the days when Sport was added to the News and not considered the main item.

My knowledge regarding the 1980 scandal of Phil Carman’s behaviour negligible – in fact, non-existent.

head butt incident
Image sourced from YouTube – Video still, Phil Carman and Graeme Carbery, the footage was taken in 1980

The story revolved around Phil Carman who was one of the VFL’s most awarded players despite being frequently reported for bad behaviour.

Local performers explored an infamous head-butting incident between Phil Carman and umpire Graeme Carberry on Moorabbin Oval. This was filmed by video artist Laresa Kosloff and displayed on a large screen in the foyer of the club building.

Phil copped a year-long suspension and it was the end of his football career, which by all accounts was turbulent. He’d probably last one game nowadays!

Phil Carman was one of the VFL’s most brilliant players, dazzling spectators and developing a passionate following amongst fans in the 70s and early 80s. However, his career was marred by violent incidents, resulting in short-lived contracts with four VFL clubs.

This behaviour culminated in the 1980 season at Moorabbin Linton Street oval when Carman head-butted umpire Graeme Carberry, earning him the longest suspension in VFL history (20 weeks), and signalling the end of his career as a player.

Laresa Kosloff creates a choreographed video work with local footballers, exploring the gestures and symbols that characterise the Phil Carman incident and Aussie Rules football during the late 70s and early 80s…

Inspired by the ‘headbutt incident’ Laresa is currently working on an abstract interpretation of the moment that investigates the unique and universally understood language of sport.

Laresa grappled with finding a way to bring sensitivity and critical analysis to the moment without being dismissive or disrespectful to the footballing community. As with most of her practice, she navigates this thin line through carefully choreographed humour and slapstick comedy, keeping this quirky work accessible and open to all.

She has spent hours going through interviews and game footage and sketching the postures and movements inherent to the game. Through this process, she began to map out the language of gestures, emotions and the body universally understood to sporting fans across the globe.

Many of those on the bus obviously understood footy better than me and loved the video installation.  I was more interested in seeing where tax dollars have been invested in this very new stadium.

As a first-time visitor, I found the home of St Kilda Football Club quite amazing and I’m sure the community is thrilled.

Our art tour interruption seemed to go unnoticed by the public intent on watching a game in progress.

No doubt the head-butt story filled the pages of local and state newspapers in 1980 and I am aware of recent controversies in sport but still have a lack of enthusiasm when some football stories (like who has a knee injury) are elevated to prime importance in the nightly news bulletins.

However, in display cabinets in the foyer, part of a Heritage Museum, the exploration of the club’s Indigenous connections is interesting with the stand taken by Michael Long against racism a pivotal moment in the code.

Perhaps the subject of a future storytelling tour?

 

And of course, there is always the importance of what diehard fans bring to the spirit of the club.

In the 90s, when my daughters attended Mordialloc Primary School there was a yearly fundraiser revolving around Melbourne’s football teams and team colours replaced uniforms for the day.

On ‘Pie & Tinnie Day’, students bought a meat pie and can of soft drink from the Canteen and donated one and two cent coins by creating a line on the floor behind their footy team’s poster.

I learnt then how popular St Kilda was as their line snaked out the door. It was a team most in the Southeastern suburbs regarded as theirs.

Our household not footy enthusiasts but my daughter, Anne barracked for Footscray because they were called the ‘dogs’ and had a bulldog as their emblem. Devoted to real live dogs, which still are her favourite pet, she put her couple of dollars on the floor for Footscray.

However, I often had to rush home and grab John’s loose change from his bedside table so that Anne, who seemed to be the sole ‘doggy’ supporter wasn’t embarrassed by having the smallest donation line in the school!

There are consequences if you live in Melbourne you must follow footy and defend your team’s honour at all costs!

watching footy sunday morning

When we left St Kilda’s grounds, the bus turned onto the Nepean Highway near Wickham Road and I saw a few more streets I’d never seen before we entered a semi-industrial area.

 

Story Three – Fair Pay Worth Fighting For

On the bus, we heard the story of workers protesting for fair pay and better working conditions in 1979.

One of the strikers used his car to block access to the factory. A tow truck was called and while the driver was connecting up the vehicle, its owner stole his keys and threw them over a fence.

Although the original factory is gone, we were taken to the site and saw a re-enactment of

… an infamous incident involving a tow truck and physical struggles between constabulary and workers at the former Phillip Morris car park; a public art installation using illuminated LED boards and text developed with community consultation.

This project has been developed alongside The Gathering Place and Kingston Koorie Mob.

 

We stayed on the bus but the scene came alive through hearing the descriptions on the police radio and through conversations on the ground all played through the intercom on the bus.

Driving up to that area of Moorabbin, it struck me how high up we were compared to other parts of the city. It was an interesting perspective I’d not seen or understood before.

Story Four – Moorabbin Airport Mystery Remains Unsolved

On the way to our next stop, we were informed that Moorabbin Airport is the second busiest airport in Australia and the home of the Australian National Aviation Museum founded in 1962.

The first fact was interesting but not surprising – anyone who lives in Mordialloc will testify to the regular sound of aircraft overhead.

I visited the Museum years ago and knew friends who volunteered there and wondered how much it had changed because there was often appeals for people to get involved.

Frank Jones, who was a member of Mordialloc Writers’ Group served in the RAAF during WW2 and a short story he wrote was turned into a radio play and performed at the Museum so they were no stranger to getting involved in the arts.

But the story we heard on Sunday was a much more recent event and the enemy – if there was one – came from another world…

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Image sourced from abc.net.au – front page of The Australian, Monday, October 23 1978, ‘UFO Mystery’ by Robin Southey 

In 1978, Fred Valentich took off from Moorabbin Airport in a Cessna and within minutes, radioed sightings of a metallic object hovering above him and then there was silence!

It was a routine training flight to Tasmania but when he and his plane went missing it became the subject of so much speculation it entered the realm of the ‘Twilight Zone’ – the name of a popular TV Show of stories about the paranormal and aliens.

“It is not an aircraft.”

On the evening of October 21st 1978, nineteen-year-old pilot Frederick Valentich disappeared shortly after take-off from Moorabbin airport.

Before his disappearance, Valentich reported sighting a metallic aircraft moving at high speed. Reports further southeast noted a similar aircraft sporting multiple lights on its belly before transmission abruptly ceased. Valentich and his plane were never seen again.

Partnering with the Australian National Aviation Museum and the Victorian UFO Action Group, artist collective Field Theory will work with volunteers to tell the conflicting stories, myths and unassuageable mysteries that took this story to the top of Australian security organisations.

This interactive project drops the audience deep inside the many mysteries surrounding this story.

On the bus, making full use of the intercom again, we heard the conversation between the pilot and air traffic control, we also heard excerpts of the Minutes Of October 27, from the investigation into the missing plane with a conclusion ‘human factors’ played a significant role.

There was mention of the pilot’s low IQ, his failed exams and psychological assessments, his dream to be in RAAF probably unattainable and his stories of many flying activities a facade to impress.

On the 15th October, during a drive in the Dandenongs with his girlfriend, he was reported to have said if a UFO landed, he would go in it but ‘not without you’.

The authorities emphasised he often talked about UFOs and they worked hard to besmirch his character.

Why?

His girlfriend went into a hotel near where the plane disappeared and asked for the pilot by name. They’d arranged to meet at 7.00pm but he’d already vanished.

There were articles in The Australian about a clairvoyant and New Zealand author, Colin Avery who held a seance. He said he’d been contacted by Fred. His message being  – I’m in space with aliens.

He told Fred’s father to go into his son’s bedroom and wait to be contacted. Unfortunately, there was a mix up with time zones!

Sixty seconds of the radio transmitted conversation is believed to have been edited with accusations the pilot claimed he was in a galaxy far away, no longer having a physical body but was with others chosen.

I wonder what really happened??

I wonder if this tree at the airport holds secrets?

tree with vines

Story Five – Who Knew ‘Jessie’s Girl’ Lived in Mordialloc?

Jessie's Girl a hit
Image sourced by Shane McGrath: Photo of Rick Springfield. Background: video still of Rick Springfield, Jessie’s Girl, 1981

The next story stop was perhaps the biggest surprise to me – it was a five-minute walk from my house and as the bus pulled into the parking lot at Central Bayside Health we heard the story of Rick Springfield and his hit record Jessie’s Girl, which ushered in the new pop sound – a generational hit record produced by an Aussie!

Rick hailed from the ‘aspirational suburb’ of Parkdale and often visited the family home in Melrose Street, a haven of middle-class suburbia. He held his wedding reception in the house and used it as a bolt hole with not much changed from his childhood except the corner milkbar now a beauty salon.

Kingston has produced many famous sons and daughters but none quite like Rick Springfield who, in a little known fact, spent his teenage years in Parkdale.

First a heart-throb and actor in American soap General Hospital, Springfield became internationally famous for his worldwide smash hit single, Jessie’s Girl, released in 1981. The song climbed to no.1 and went platinum in the USA and Australia.

Artist Shane McGrath and local musicians honour Springfield’s place in the rock pantheon, creating their own renditions of Jessie’s Girl in the streets of Parkdale, headed up by a phalanx of bull terriers, after Rick Springfield’s love for the breed.

The scene recreated was the promotional video Rick made and we marched behind the banner and a tambourine and flute band, singing along to a boom box belting out Jessie’s Girl until we were outside Rick’s house with “Rick” himself, led there by four dogs!

Apparently, each day there is a different musical band with a brass band promised one of the performances.

Regardless of the musicians, it is a lovely, happy, interactive interlude.

Story Six – the Final Flourish

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Image credit for Featured image: Girls Just Want to Have FUNdamental Human Rights by Tal Fitzpatrick (2015) 50cm x 50cm

The last story featured was that of Julie Cooper who paved the way for women to enter local politics when she was elected Moorabbin City’s first female Councillor in 1976 and went onto being their first female Mayor in 1982.

A stadium named in her honour continues to be a point of contention.

Julie Cooper HTV card
Supplied by her family

On the 12th of June 1902, Australia became the first country in the world to give women the right to vote and stand for office.

However, in Moorabbin, it wasn’t until 1976 (74 years later) that the first female councillor, Julie Cooper, was elected. Julie went on to challenge the norms of local government and fulfilled another milestone when she was elected the city’s first female mayor in 1982.

Her groundbreaking achievements are today reflected in a Beaumaris stadium that bears her name and marks her role in creating opportunities for women in local politics.

As we returned to the Kingston Arts Centre we heard about Craftism – craft and activism combined to make social change – something dear to Julie’s heart.

Since the term craftivism was coined by Betsy Greer in 2003, the idea has blossomed into a global movement of like-minded makers who mend the fabric of society and make with meaning.

protest quilt 1

Textile artist Tal Fitzpatrick, along with local crafters practising hands-on craftivism, celebrates the contribution of female and gender non-conforming leaders and invited participants to take part in the struggle for gender equality.

A Melbourne-based artist who is curious about the ways craft can be deployed to bring people together and drive positive social change, Tal hosted a series of free craftivist protest banner-making workshops in Kingston during March and April.

Participants created a textile protest banner of their own. Materials were provided and these were the banners we collected at Moorabbin Station and carried and marched back to the Kingston Arts centre carpark to finish a wonderful tour!

We walked up Nepean Highway carrying the wonderful banners high led by Marcia chanting:

‘What do we want?’

‘Another election!’

‘When do we want it?’

‘Now!’

I think Julie Cooper would have approved.

In fact, I know she would because her daughter Mandy and family were there marching and Mandy Cooper and husband John are the friends I reconnected with and previously mentioned as ‘the blast from the past’!

Cooper Family

A selection of the banners will also be featured in an exhibition curated by Tal, called Crafting Resistance: Six Moments in Kingston at Kingston Arts Centre in September 2019 so if you can’t take part in a guided tour of Kingston’s streets and some of the stories they hold this weekend perhaps attend the exhibition – I can guarantee you won’t be disappointed.

our bus patiently waiting
The driver waiting with the patience of a saint!

 

Advance Australia Where? A Question Still to Be Answered.

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I’m still coming to terms with the election result – as are about 50% of the population!

I was never confident of an overwhelming victory but I couldn’t believe that after six years of dysfunction, failed policies, three prime ministers and scandal after scandal of corruption and incompetence, and going to the voters with literally no policies or vision to solve climate change and social inequality that the LNP Coalition would be rewarded.

It was disappointing too that their lies were rarely challenged and the dodgy figures about unemployment – insecure work, underemployment, casual and contract work and the fact that one hour’s work a week is enough to move you from unemployment statistics –  a shameful state of affairs for a wealthy country like Australia.

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I’m a writer and writing teacher but how do I find the words to explain how saddened and shocked I am about the election result? Recommend strong verbs of course – many friends have already expressed their opinions:

gutted, shattered, crushed, appalled, stunned, alarmed, disturbed… disappointed or annoyed aren’t strong enough.

The Liberal candidate in Isaacs, my electorate, was disendorsed for posting hate speech in an ‘appalling anti-muslim rant’.

Yet, as I scrutineered for Mark Dreyfus QC MP, I couldn’t believe the hundreds of people who still voted for the dumped candidate!

My goodness, are there that many racists living in Mordialloc?’ declared Nola, my fellow scrutineer.

‘Apparently!’

Now the election is over, we have other similarly disendorsed Liberal candidates going to take their seat in parliament, no doubt under the auspices of the party that preselected them originally.

What happened to ethics and morality?

protest about homeless

Election 2019 – A Failure For Fairness
Mairi Neil

We’ve just had Election Day when all through Australia
we turned out to vote to prove Democracy no failure.
Votes already cast knowing shocking deals done – later
some candidates forced to resign, one by horrible one.
But the men who removed Malcolm Turnbull as PM
not reduced in number – so don’t underestimate them.
Visions of Dutton as a leader still dance in some heads…
the folk on Manus and Nauru still toss in their beds.
The ‘silent majority’ with privileged excess in their bellies
believed Murdoch’s media and the crap on their tellies!

Despite what we heard – there was a rumble abroad –
not everyone realised that Morrison’s a fraud.
Plenty tapping at keyboards and scratching of pens
letters and online posts numbered multiples of ten
Passion and persuasion for society to include all
true social justice and ‘action on climate’ their call.
Lament environmental disasters, habitat losses
a wage system and laws overwhelmingly for bosses.

Seeds grow flowers and trees bear far-reaching fruit
school strikers and protesters cocked more than a snoot
at politicians and rich cronies who legislate inequality
the climate change deniers, those fearing collective solidarity.
Raised voices had courage, progressives give each other heart
so we must continue the fight until Morrison & Co depart.
Trickle down economics a failure, we must change the rules
implement a fairer tax system to fund hospitals and schools.

Labor’s policies seemed commonsense, natural and right
but when results were tallied on that fatal Election night…
How could this be? Morrison’s win dubbed ‘a miracle’
yet so little policy evidence to prove it empirical.
The nation is deeply divided although the LNP returned
with Labor’s bold reforming plan effectively spurned.
The outcome explored by journos and political pundits
while almost 50% of the population in bewilderment sit!

I weep for the planet, the suffering, and marginalised
I thought social justice and fairness an achievable prize!
Voters had one job to do and decisively blew it
but climate emergency means there’s no time to sit!
Progressives may reel from this election result
it seems to defy logic with the winners an insult
but the struggle must continue – no time for a pause
in tackling climate catastrophes and industrial laws.

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‘It is impossible to live without failing at something unless you live so cautiously that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.’

J.K. Rowling

Banksy gives great advice

Motherhood, Love, & Purpose

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A Mother’s Day Reflection

mother and pie quote

I’m not sure what I expected from motherhood except that life would change – and that expectation has most definitely been met!

My daughters grew inside me and remain a part of me… I can’t imagine life without them but the person who taught me most about motherhood was my own mother – an amazing woman I will probably never stop writing about!

The older my children become, and as I age, the intensity of love for them deepens. I think of them every day, confirming the feelings and wisdom my own mother shared with me in the months before her death in 2009, aged eighty-nine.

She talked about her fears for my brother, George who was undergoing treatment for Leukaemia and said,

‘Loving and mothering is a lifetime responsibility – your children should never die before you. It’s not right.’

I have close friends who have lost adult children. They confirm the truth of Mum’s observation and I know each day for those friends getting up and coping with daily life is a struggle and testament to their resilience to ‘continue and carry on with life’ the way their loved ones would wish. The lead-up and actual celebration of days like today must be particularly difficult and my heart goes out to them.

‘She never quite leaves her children at home, even when she doesn’t take them along.’

Margaret Culkin Banning

When I decided to have a baby I was thirty-two and didn’t truly understand how profound becoming a parent would be personally or the effect on relationships with family, friends – and even strangers.

Born in the 1950s and part of Women’s Liberation in the late 60s and 70s, I was still expected to follow the ‘normal’ path of marrying and having children. It wasn’t my sole aim in life and I didn’t actively plan it but I went with the flow after meeting John and neither of us challenged the system, except I eschewed a white wedding and expensive reception and chose to marry in the garden of the house we bought together and party afterwards with many of the guests ‘bringing a plate’!

On reflection, I can say becoming a mother was the most exhaustive (and exhausting) change in my life – and continues to be – as long as my daughters and I remain intertwined.

I could write a lot about the picture of me in the early days of my daughter Anne’s homecoming – the congratulatory cards still visible, the dessert and glass of wine husband John prepared sitting untouched, me in an exhausted sleep all new mothers know well…

anne's birth 2

I salute my own mother for her guidance, values, and many examples of mothering. How she coped with six of us I will never know! I remember ringing her up and asking her once, after a particularly trying day with a baby plus toddler, ‘How are you still sane?

I know that the deep love and bond I had with her is one of the reasons a loving bond with my daughters came easily.

There are similarities and huge differences regarding how Mum and I parented but not in attitude and determination to be loving and loyal whenever needed. We were both extremely lucky to be with partners we loved (Mum had Dad and I had John).

Partners who wanted children and were supportive, partners unafraid to share the household chores and unglamorous aspects of parenting and in my case, I know, a partner who cherished me and never stopped showing it.

John had been married before and so to a certain extent ‘knew the ropes’ regarding parenting so I was lucky. Although being present at the birth of both our girls, a totally new experience for him just as having me, a feminist as a partner, also a new experience!

In this picture, we are pregnant and ecstatic.

joh and me when I was pregnant with Anne

Say, what is the spell, when her fledgelings are cheeping,
That lures the bird home to her nest?
Or wakes the tired mother whose infant is weeping,
To cuddle and croon it to rest?
For I’m sure it is nothing but Love!’

Lewis Carroll

Cheryl, now my ex-sister-in-law was a friend as well as part of the extended family in 1986. She produced the first of the next generation for our branch of the McInnes Clan in Australia in 1979 and the only ‘modern mum’ I’d observed firsthand.

She visited me in Jessie McPherson Hospital, Lonsdale Street, shortly after Anne’s birth. Into my ear, she whispered, ‘Welcome to the club.’

Her brown and my hazel eyes met as she squeezed my arm gently and with the still vivid memory of that miraculous moment when I held Anne to my breast for the first time, I knew exactly what she meant – becoming a mother, accepting the responsibility for another human being is transformational and understood by other mothers.

Vector Illustration of a happy multicultural group of cute swaddled babies

My first little ray of sunshine born after an emergency dash to Jessie Mac’s in Lonsdale Street at 3.00am, May 24, 1986.

John tailgated a taxi breaking the speed limit ( ‘they know the fastest route and where all the coppers and cameras are’ ). We hit no red lights and made the city in record time.

Three hours later Anne Courtney Neil arrived, three weeks earlier than expected but wide-eyed and ready to take on the world!

When I took Anne home from the hospital little did I know she had a hole in the heart – not discovered for almost twelve months, and then only by the extra diligence of a young doctor on work experience at the local clinic!

I still have cold sweats in the middle of the night when I think of the operation she had for ‘sticky-eye’ and a blocked tear duct when she was barely two months old, the eye specialist and the anaesthetist completely unaware of her heart condition.

There were the usual childhood accidents and illnesses too. The catastrophes that send mothers into a spin, fearful for the child’s wellbeing and welfare – Anne had no broken bones (Mary Jane delivered that excitement) but one day she bit hard and severed her tongue when she collided with a large wooden rocking horse.

I rushed to the local GP at the corner of Albert and McDonald Streets, in my slippers, wheeling five-year-old Anne in her sister’s pusher and carrying a protesting Mary Jane under my arm.

I’d stuffed a wet face-washer in Anne’s mouth to hold the tongue together and stem the bleeding (‘excellent response’ according to the doctor).

The trail of blood in the house and garden that greeted John when he rushed home after receiving a garbled message from his receptionist made him imagine a severed limb and he almost fainted. (The tongue does bleed profusely!)

However, he too praised my quick action racing to the surgery rather than ringing an ambulance or panicking. (That and delayed shock came later!)

Sometimes we amaze ourselves how we react and cope as parents.

pictures of mum and me me and mj

Mary Jane’s birth in 1989,  a more traumatic and dramatic story.

She arrived more than a week early and I barely got to Mordialloc Hospital in time for delivery sending the nursing staff into a flap. To this day she is known as ‘the baby born during the tea break’ arriving less than fifteen minutes after I walked through the front door.

John and Dr Ferguson arrived at the hospital just in time for delivery and I’m sure if there had been more traffic police on duty in those days, both would have been booked for speeding – perhaps even reckless driving.

Adding to the drama, Mary Jane breathed the meconium and amniotic fluid mixture into her lungs while in the womb and was born with the umbilical cord around her neck prompting a nurse to say, ‘Oh, she’s dead.’

The baby rushed to an incubator and the nurse reprimanded while everyone in the room paused for a moment taking stock of a miracle birth indeed! I went into shock and apparently kept asking John if I’d had a baby until they brought Mary Jane to me to be cuddled and fed!

 

Later, Mary Jane broke her arm in a ‘monkey bar’ accident at primary school but the seriousness of the fracture ignored by teachers who left her in Sick Bay while they tried to contact me or John and ‘ask what to do’ instead of taking her to a doctor or ringing an ambulance.

Our membership in the ambulance service and private health insurance on record and you can imagine the tongue lashing the administration of the school received from me.

Fortunately, a friend volunteering for reading duty noticed Mary Jane’s distress and demanded action; unfortunately, the delay and subsequent treatment at Sandringham public hospital during the upheaval of the Kennett years meant the arm was badly set and needed to be re-broken weeks later – this was done by a specialist at Como Hospital in Parkdale.

Sadly, Sandringham botched another operation when MJ was in her 20s, damaging her bowel when they discovered endometriosis during a routine operation to remove an ovarian cyst. Who says lightning doesn’t strike twice??

Often at night, I close my eyes and recall the horror of seeing my daughter with multiple tubes hanging from her young body. Flushed, in pain despite high doses of morphine, and unaware of the emergency operation, she murmured through an oxygen mask, ‘What happened?’

The déjà vu of the multiple traumas she has suffered weighs heavily on my heart. I have often wished for a magic wand to reverse the hurts or give my daughters the happiness and pain-free world of fairytales.

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Mother’s Day 1990

Motherhood exposes your deepest fears and inadequacies but it also helps you gain courage and grow – as Sophocles said, ‘Children are the anchors that hold a mother to life.’

Whenever my girls have been ill, in pain, troubled or suffering, I’ve wanted a magic wand to remove their misfortune or possess the ability to swap places and take away their discomfort. Instead, reality over fantasy,  I’ve ‘gone into bat’ for them and fought school and government authorities, bullies, and anyone else who needed to be held accountable.

Like a lioness, I will fiercely fight to protect and defend. These skills and determination I learnt from own mother – she may have been barely five foot tall but her love and commitment to all six of her children taught me to be courageous and resilient regarding caring and coping as a parent.

‘A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.’

Agatha Christie

Motherhood indeed the most emotional and enlightened transformation for me. Everything I’ve read, shared, learnt and absorbed about other women’s experiences reveals none of our journeys is exactly the same or can be predicted.

There are similarities, but it is a unique life-changing event filled with joys and sorrows, calm and turbulent seas, problems and solutions, holding tight and letting go, embarrassing moments and moments of pride and satisfaction.

‘The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.’

Honore de Balzac

Around the world, mothers worry about their inadequacies, feel overwhelmed and many like me who became a single parent because our partner died carry guilt about not coping or spending enough time as the ‘default’ parent.

(John died when Anne was sixteen and Mary Jane thirteen – I think most will agree parenting adolescents is tough with two concerned parents, with one, I can assure you, it is challenging and at times very lonely!)

Frustration, financial stress, fear of failure or making mistakes – subjects often discussed between friends, family and in some cases counsellors.

Nurturing has never stopped from their early childhood…

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From miraculous beginnings to challenging responsibilities, navigating hopes and dreams, disasters and near misses, parenting has been rewarding, scary, comical, confronting, but most of all fulfilling.

My life has had a purpose and I’ve experienced and continue to experience a wonderful mutual love.

I am so lucky my girls as young women still want to visit and ‘hang out’ with me, travel together, see movies, play board games, walk the dog, shop, discuss and debate, laugh and even party with me.

They are friends as well as daughters, and often the nurturing role has been reversed – especially when I had breast cancer and now as I age and have lost some confidence about decision-making for the future.

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At the beginning of my writing career, at the launch of my first poetry book, I said children were the inspiration and reason I wrote and also the reason I didn’t write because motherhood is time-consuming.

Over the years, especially caring for John, I can substitute family instead of mothering but I wouldn’t really have life any other way. Loving and knowing John and our daughters have enriched me and made me the person I am today.

I hope I’ve helped add two more productive, caring citizens to the community. I’m grateful that feminism has wrought changes in society and many of the preconceptions about women and their destiny are no longer peddled – my girls have choices their grandmothers didn’t.

My Mum won a scholarship to college in Northern Ireland but her stepmother wouldn’t let her continue with study and ordered her out to work, then came WW2, the ATS and then nursing. Her stymied educational opportunities were what motivated Mum to encourage all six of her own children to study and seek suitable qualifications for what we wanted to be.

I was the first in my family to go to university and I only wish mum could have witnessed me returning to study at 57 years old and gaining a Masters degree in Writing and her two granddaughters earn Bachelor degrees.

season of our lives

Always my wish has been happiness and good health for both girls – to be whatever they want to be and find contentment and fulfilment in their choices.

We are so fortunate to live in Australia and have the privileges we do and I’m glad both daughters are aware they stand on the shoulders of those who have come before, that there are still hurdles to leap, and they will always strive to ‘go higher’ and seek equity for themselves and for so many others not as fortunate.

I am happy they will follow their mother as I followed my mother in fighting for social justice.

‘Youth fades; love droops, the leaves of friendship fall;
A mother’ s secret hope outlives them all.’

Oliver Wendall Holmes.

Happy Mother’s Day to all!