The Cinderella Syndrome

Terrible thing to be the victim of a wicked step mother, not to mention her dastardly son and daughter, the evil step brother and sister. The only good thing about this new home is the dog, even the cat is vicious. Nothing is done right, they're too loud, too boisterous, too finicky, too many rules and regulations. All the food is good for you and very very frightening. The wicked step mother wears black suits, high heels and goes to work, so she really must be a witch. Her children speak in a cryptic fashion that you just know is somehow making fun of you. They laugh their secret jokes and play their secret games. They invite you to join but you know danger lurks. Your young brother cannot smell the danger so he joins in, but you know it will end badly, he will end up hurting and crying and then Dad will have to come. That's the best part. Sometimes you even hurt your brother or start an argument just so Dad will come, but she always knows, she always tells. You just close your eyes and wish her away and wish and wish. She goes to work and it's better then. You have Dad all to yourselves, but he has to work too and so he puts the TV on, just like home. You wish for something more exciting, but it's better than her being around. Bossing everyone, do this, don't do that, get your feet off, sit up straight, stop whingeing, eat this or there's no more, go to bed, stop making noise, go to sleep, turn the light out, no you can't, go to sleep...How can you sleep when you know tomorrow its her turn to look after you.

You hear Dad open the door and come in quietly to kiss you and your brother goodbye. Your heart fills with fear and trepidation. You stay in bed under the covers, listening as she bustles round the kitchen, getting breakfast and chatting to your little brother who seems oblivious to her evil aura. Up you get, she says, its a beautiful day, we're going to the beach. You're torn. Nothing better than the beach, but maybe its her plot to drown you. Come on, get your cozzie on, have breakfast, lets go. No room for argument. Anyway, you know mothers don't go into the water, they sit on the sand and watch while you splash about in the shallows, she won't be able to drown you.

Everyone piles into the car, evil step sister is in the back with you and your brother, whilst evil step brother rides in the front with her. Everyone seems very jolly. She asks her daughter to look after you while she goes for a swim. You watch as she runs into the surging waves, dives under wave after wave, swims powerfully past the breakers, catches the waves effortlessly and runs back to where you and sister have been having a fine time playing in the small waves. She stays now, catches your hand and your brother's and jumps you over the waves. She shows you how to throw yourself backwards onto the breaking wave. She says, wanna learn how to dive under? Too scared, you pull away. She shrugs and keeps on playing with little brother. The daughter and son are swimming and catching waves and diving and jumping over. She says, I'll show you how when you're ready, summertime is fun time, this is God's playground.

You can't wait 'til Dad gets home to tell him all about the beach. He hugs you and smiles, and looks at her, then he smiles at her and kisses her and hugs her some more, and you hate that. He's mine your mind screams, he was mine before he was yours, don't touch her, she's a witch, she'll poison you...

Welcome to my Daymare

I invite you parents into my classroom. Just a glimpse, just a peak. I wonder what you expect to see. Like me, you may not have set foot in a classroom for twenty years or more, or maybe it is not so long since you bade your final flippant farewells. Nevertheless I think you're in for a surprise. What are your visions of classroom behaviour? How do you think your little Johnny or Mary might behave? Perhaps you think of kids chattily streaming into their class, sitting at their desk, getting out their books and pens, having a bit of a chat while the teacher gets the work organised, then getting on with whatever they may have been asked to do....WRONG! This may apply to private schools, or the top classes, but let's get down to where the average child dwells in the state high schools.

Noise, noise and more noise. Shouting at each other across the room, obscene language spilling like drops of sewerage from the lips of 12 to 17 year olds, getting up and down out of seats in an endless St Vitus dance of incessant hyperactivity, completely, effortlessly ignoring all instructions from the teacher, rudely and arrogantly responding to any polite requests with sullen negativity(thats the polite ones), throwing things, leaving the room at will, re-entering loudly, meandering around the room looking for mischief. If this is the classroom, imagine what the playground is like! And this is a nice quiet coastal country town! This is a 'good' school. Of course you're asking, what kind of a teacher are you? Why don't you discipline them, why don't you take control, why don't you do your job properly?

When I was first affronted with this unbelievably appalling behaviour, I did think it was my fault. I was so afraid they would find out what a terrible teacher I was and would not ask me back. I would keep the door shut and just try to quell the dreadful din. In time I developed some strategies, but much remains unchanged. It is rare these days to COMPLETELY lose control of the ENTIRE class, but it is a constant struggle. Teachers of these difficult classes are like front line soldiers in a never ending battle to keep the enemy contained. Experienced permanent teachers will ask how was the lesson with 8V or 10E5, you mutter something about there not being a shred of human decency in that entire class, and receive comforting words like 'no blood? No chairs or desks thrown? No-one dispatched through the window? You've done well!'

The problem is that teachers generally have never been in one of these classes until they have to teach them. Teachers tend to have been in the top classes at school and have no knowledge of this nether world, ruled by chaos and the forces of filthy minds and bad attitudes! University lecturers have also not been in a classroom for years, if ever, and the teachers that provide guest appearances at our lectures and tutorials do not want to frighten us with the awful truth. So we arrive completely unprepared, thinking wonderful inspirational thoughts courtesy of those drivel dramas where marvelous teachers bring enlightenment and encourage a thirst for learning.

The Sweat Hogs were a doddle!

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The Greatest Addiction

Recently I suggested to someone a means by which they could give up smoking cigarettes. This woman was standing outside her friend’s home while everyone else was inside enjoying their coffee and chocolates. We were exchanging shouted pleasantries with the woman on the outside and the conversation revolved around how difficult it is to quit smoking. I told her that I had cut a white pen down to cigarette size and ‘smoked’ the pen until I had rid myself of the habit of smoking. I had discovered from previous attempts that the actual nicotine addiction passes (with some difficulty, especially to other members of the household!) in about three days, but it is the habit that is so terribly difficult to break.

This woman asked me how long it took me to finally give up my pen and I told her it was around six months. She laughed and said how ridiculous I must have looked to smoke a pen for six months. Ridiculous! Hmmm, ridiculous, yes. But it is not ridiculous to have shouting conversations with your friends because you absolutely HAVE to be outside, even in the freezing cold, while your friends are warm and cozy, because you HAVE to draw poisonous smoke into your lungs every half an hour or so. Not ridiculous to hand over up to $80.00 per week to a multinational tobacco company, who in turn will give you some cardboard, paper, chemicals, and a weed, which you will in turn set on fire and breath in the noxious fumes. Not ridiculous to befoul your room, house, car, clothes, hair, skin, teeth with this toxic substance, let alone your precious lungs, heart and vascular system. Not ridiculous to slowly drown in the poisoned fluids your lungs will gradually produce because they no longer can function.

I know how hard it is to rid yourself of this terrible habit. I know the government pays lip service to helping you because they want to reap the profits from your pain and suffering. I know how many billions the tobacco companies make out of your addiction each year. I know how it feels to wonder if there is a life of any kind without smoking! But don’t give up trying, and don’t ridicule what you haven’t tried. It may just be your answer.

Rave Numer One

There are just a few things I must get off my chest! Perhaps this blog would be better named ‘Renie’s Rave”, at least until I have unloaded that which causes disturbance to my mind.

What do cigarette smokers, bourbon, beer and coke drinkers, Kentucky Fried chicken and MacDonald’s eaters have in common? Strange question you think? Surely anything they have in common would be a generalisation? Yes indeed and a broad one at that! Nevertheless, at the risk of offending a multitude of innocent smokers, drinkers and takeaway food addicts, I will share my observations. These people are litterers! They leave the detritus of their globalized garbage wherever they go. I do have proof. In fact at one time, I had ten giant garbage bags full of evidence.

Approximately two years ago I noticed a woman carrying a garbage bag and wearing rubber gloves on her morning constitutional. At first I thought she was a bit precious about picking up her dog faeces, but then I realized she didn’t have a dog. One day I saw her ducking under the barbed wire fence at our exquisite lookout and coming back with a vast array of empty beer and bourbon bottles. This made me look at my surroundings in closer detail and I realized that one 500 metre stretch of my 4 km morning walk was covered in garbage. I resolved to carry on this good woman’s work on my own patch, but unfortunately not before the Council workers in their infinite wisdom decided to slash the grass on the side of the road, thereby turning 200 pieces of garbage into thousands! How daunting! It took two weeks to clean it all up.

Everyday since, the smokers, drinkers and junk food eaters have deposited their little gifts for me, carelessly tossing to the winds their putrid parcels. Sometimes they consume just a tad too much, which forces them to evacuate messily from either end. This can cause some consternation for the unsuspecting stroller as she bends to pick up what appears to be paper or tissues.

You may well wonder why someone would clean up the mess left by careless, inconsiderate, lazy passers-by. I live and walk in the most beautiful surroundings. Exquisite mountain, river and valley views, coloured by soft pinks and golden glows of each new sunrise, adorn my morning walk. For the sake of this unrivalled beauty remaining as pristine as possible, I will continue to collect that which spoils and corrupts and toss it where it belongs. (’tis a pity this cannot be the front yards of those who discarded it)

Welcome to Artful Articles! Is it about art you may be wondering? Or is it the skill in which each is beautifully crafted? Aha... you guessed it! It is indeed the latter. I write, I think, I will entertain and delight. Artful Articles will cover a wide range of subjects designed to appeal to the most eclectic tastes, including the following:

• education
• families
• behaviour
• teens
• friendships
• step families
• social problems
• society
• relationships
• music
• life
• love

Keep on the watch, I'll be seeing you, actually you'll be seeing me!