Post 57 12 July 2016
A return to School – better times
The days of dreaming for a car accident on the long road back to school after the holidays were slowly receding into memory.
The fear had to a large extent, been replaced with just a hint of trepidation, now that I was in my more senior years; I was no longer wracked with the fear of any resurgence of the “Fucking Poofter” bullying.
Perhaps; I had just become better at being invisible.
On top of this, the world was changing and many social mores were being questioned like never before. It was now almost fashionable at the Farmers School to express dismay at Australia’s continued involvement in Vietnam. Protest songs were part of almost everyone’s record collection
Many people made lifelong friends as a result of their time at the Farmers School; I was not one of them.
I did have friends but they were friends who knew the person I had invented, not the person I was inside.
The confusion over my sexual identity, the questions over Steve and the violence of Jerry were now the things I most feared and; found hardest to understand.
You and Dad, seemed to have come to a state of acceptance and there were even some lighthearted moments.
It was always great to see little Margo, and; Terry and I were slowly growing closer.
My decision years ago, to study French was proving to be a breakthrough in my relationship with you.
We had a French Teacher whose grasp of the French language was rudimentary at best and nonexistent at worse, but his enthusiasm for French Culture was imbuing in me a lifelong love of the French Impressionist artists. Suddenly I could talk to you with some knowledge of Manet, Monet, Degas, Van Gogh or Toulouse Lautrec.
The fact that all of us in our French Class, would within eighteen months; dismally fail our HSC exams in this subject, was immaterial. The love and appreciation of the French artists and their fellow impressionists would morph into a lifelong interest in all forms of art and this was an interest which you and I could share.
The long ago days of my early childhood happiness with you were not quite reborn, but certainly; you and I were closer now than we had been for many years.
These years in the late 1960’s; were the best years I remember from my childhood.
You and Dad were happier, Margo was my special little sister, Terry and I were closer than we had ever been, Chloe and Gordy provided a haven from the excesses of Jerry and school was not something so much to be feared any more.
There were shadows and some sense of doubt about the believability of the current state of play but generally; this time was almost happy for me.