It’s been so long since I last posted. In many ways, I felt like my blog was dying — like I wanted to stop writing. But that’s not the case at all. I’ve been absent because it’s been a transitional period in my life, and I’m trying to adjust to a new normal. I don’t want to write about it, and I’m not really dwelling on it. I’m just taking each day as it comes.
But life hasn’t completely stopped. Other things have been happening, so let me fill you in on what I’ve been up to. The first thing I’ll tell you about is a major life event that took place a couple of weeks ago: I sold my car.
It’s the first time since I started driving that I’ve been without my own car, but I had to sell it because we needed the money. Also, Mum doesn’t drive anymore. I generally drive her around in her car and use it for myself as well, so it didn’t really make sense to have two cars when one wasn’t being used.
Below you can see the last two photos I took of my old Toyota Corolla. It was a good car. My dad bought it for me before he got dementia. He asked me what kind of car I would like, and I told him I wanted an “adult” car — not a hatchback. It had to be a sedan. He went to great lengths to find it for me, and it served me well for however many years I had it.
I love cake art, chocolate, and confectionery, so the full plan was to study SFX at the Media Make Up Academy for two years, learn moulding and sculpting and all of those sorts of skills, and then do the pastry chef qualification and apply the SFX skills to that. I could seriously make some epic cakes and chocolates in all their gluttonous glory.
I was absolutely certain this was the path I should take. I even had to deal with Le Cordon Bleu, who are not only incredibly expensive but also, in my view, incredibly snobby and dismissive of prospective students.
But sure enough, just as the idea came to me, it passed.
I was talking to my friend Maiki, and I said that I can’t live like this. I have literally wanted to be everything, and ended up nothing. But there is one thing that I am, and that is a writer. It’s why I came back to this blog. It’s my safe place.
I actually started a Bachelor of Journalism through Adelaide Uni online this week. I’m going to be doing it in the background. I haven’t even told anyone I’m doing it. I’m just going to plod away at the degree until I finish it.
I’m also going to start up another blog which will focus on opinion pieces and articles about current events. I will build up a journalistic portfolio from there. I don’t actually want to work as a journalist in a newsroom for television or print, but I would like to write freelance pieces and write books. I think this degree will help me with that.
A little while back, I did a massive mailout. I wrote to all the members of the federal House of Representatives and all the senators. I wrote to the ministers twice, once at their electorate office and once at their ministerial office, to ensure they got my letter.
The letter asked them a few simple questions, like whether they think the government is doing enough about Aboriginal deaths in custody, and it drew attention to the 600+ Aboriginal deaths in custody since the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody in 1991.
Below you can see the letters being sent off at my local post office. My old friend Jimmy, who used to own the post office, has moved on, and there is a new younger guy who has taken it over. He kind of annoys me a bit because he doesn’t seem to have the passion or interest in the postal service that Jimmy had, but he was interested in my letters, which made me warm to him a little bit.
I emailed Aboriginal Legal Rights about the potential exhibition and they didn’t even respond. But I have another idea about how I would like to exhibit the material I am putting together, and it will hopefully be powerful, respectful, and culturally appropriate.
I must have sent close to 300 letters, and this was a couple of weeks ago now. I have only just had two responses come in.
I found it serendipitous that the first letter I got back was from my least favourite politician in the entire world, Senator Michaelia Cash. Her first line thanked me for my letter, and then she said, “Any death in custody is a tragedy.” It then went on to talk about the measures the Coalition had taken to improve outcomes when they were in government.
I know that her office would have written the letter, but that line about any death in custody being a tragedy is something I can imagine her saying and thinking. That completely deflects from the topic of my letter. It diminishes the significance of Aboriginal deaths in custody. There wasn’t a royal commission into deaths in custody in general; it was about Aboriginal deaths in custody. There is so much I would love to say about that letter I received from Michaelia Cash, and I know this is a nothing blog hidden within the vast crevices of the world wide web, but it would be just my luck that someone reads it and I get sued. So I’ll leave it at that.
The second letter I got was from the Director of the First Nations Justice Branch, First Nations and Justice Policy Division. The office of the Attorney-General, the Hon Michelle Rowland MP, had passed it on to that department to respond. It was an interesting, informative two-page letter which touched on topics like reducing First Nations incarceration rates as the most effective way to reduce deaths in custody.
I’m surprised I’ve only had the two letters back. I’m hoping they will come in a wave. I was waiting for the state election to be over before I write to the state politicians. I think all the seats have been declared now, so I will send those letters out in the next week or so.
I almost forgot — as well as pastry cheffing, I entered the world of filmmaking. I didn’t, and don’t, actually want to be a filmmaker as such, but I did a life plan and figured I had a spare seven months this year where I could do a Diploma of Film at SAE.
There is always a hurdle when it comes to me, and the hurdle here was my half-sister, who was accusing Mum of hiding Dad’s non-existent money, used to work at SAE. I wasn’t sure if she still worked there, so I had to discreetly ask. I found out she didn’t, so I went for a tour of the campus on Franklin Street. It was the old Eynesbury College, where I spent a tiny bit of my school years.
The campus was amazing, with lots of equipment, and the students all looked so cool — albeit very young. I enrolled, but just as I was certain I would finish the year making epic YouTube documentaries about parasites and bioluminescence, the idea passed.
These fantastical courses at Le Cordon Bleu and SAE haven’t really seemed real. It’s almost as if I knew I wouldn’t really be doing them. But something real has been happening in the midst of all of that: I have been looking for a job.
In total, I have had five different interview offers. The first one was at the Royal Adelaide Hospital on their switchboard. I went for the interview, and I love switchboards, so this role appealed to me, but you had to do overnight shifts, and I thought if I sign on for this, I’ll never fix my sleep issues, so I withdrew my application after the interview.
The second was an interview at the Housing Trust call centre, which I also withdrew from because it just seemed a little dark for what I am after.
I then got an interview at AHPRA, which was also a call centre role — two days in the office, three days at home. It paid really well, but it was a temp job, so I withdrew from that interview as well.
Then I got invited to an interview with the AGL call centre, which was good money for what it is, but again I withdrew from it.
The most important interview I had was with another call centre.
I first had a simple recorded audio interview online, and then I was invited to a group interview on Tuesday. There were around twenty people there, and we were seated in groups around tables. Team leaders came and sat with us and observed how we interacted.
When we went around in a circle, they asked us to introduce ourselves and tell the group something about ourselves. I said my name, and then I said I love bioluminescence. I told the group I had seen bioluminescent mushrooms and glow worms, and that it was my goal to see fireflies in real life.
I was in a group with all men — they actually drowned me out a bit. I like to think of myself as a strong woman, but somehow I kept that side of me quiet on Tuesday.
They talked about the role, which during probation is two days in the office and three at home, and then after probation, four at home and one in the office. I loved being there. It reminded me of when I worked in the Centrelink call centre. It had the same atmosphere.
When it came to my one on one interview, I was really nervous. There were two youngish women interviewing me and, when I spoke, you could almost hear my voice trembling. But I steadied myself, found my rhythm, and began to speak with more confidence. That was until they asked me to give an example of a time I hadn’t met the expectations of a previous role.
I told them about a time I was working in the Super SA call centre. I had just finished a call with a particularly rude man and, after I hung up, I muttered under my breath, “what a nark.” My team leader was listening to the call and she came over and told me she had heard what I said. She reminded me that I shouldn’t be calling members names like that. Then she added, “and he’s not a nark.” That was the moment I realised I had absolutely no idea what a “nark” actually was.
It was something I had picked up from my mother. She used to say, “don’t be a nark,” whenever I was doing something wrong. I had used the word countless times in my life, always thinking it meant something entirely different. Only then did I discover that a nark is actually a snitch. So there I was, telling this story in an interview, fully aware that I had chosen a questionable example and used the wrong word entirely. I walked out of that interview convinced I wouldn’t get the job.
But yesterday, I got the call — they offered me a job! I couldn’t believe it. I felt relief, disbelief, and a quiet sense of gratitude all at once. After ten years out of the workforce, I had been invited back in, and I accepted immediately. There are still a few things to clear — my references and police check — but if everything falls into place, I know this: I am not going to put myself in this position again.
I am going to commit to this job and give it everything I've got. I am going to stay as long as they will have me. More than anything, I feel like I am finally on the right path. I’ll also continue my journalism and I’ll continue my art projects, especially the work around Aboriginal Deaths in Custody.
There is something deeply comforting about that. And perhaps the most unexpected gift of all is the work from home component. I can be here, at home with my mother, and still build a life for myself.
Over the last little while that I’ve been absent from this blog, I’ve seen some beautiful things. The most beautiful was this little Easter display at the counter of a café at Burnside Village. It was incredibly special.
I picked the flowers up from a bucket on the sidewalk of The Parade, and they are my favourite kind of flowers. She turned 22 — that is 23 years ago for me — and yet it feels like just yesterday. I look at someone like Melissa, who is only 22, and she’s got her whole life sorted. She’s in a long-term relationship, she’s building a house, she’s got a trade, and she’s been at her job for seven years.
I was never that sorted at 22, and I’m still not now. But I’m on my way, and the timing might be different, but I think everyone’s got their own kind of normal.
