Students faced with a writing task have often told me that they do not know what to write. My advice is to sit down and start typing “I do not know what to write” over and over until their subconscious becomes bored and throws an idea at them. So,
I do not know what to write. I do not know what to write. I do not know what to write. OK, that’s enough of that nonsense.
I was born in Brisbane and, unlike most of the teachers here, I have lived in Brisbane all of my life. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to travel. In fact, my wife and I were planning a trip in the early 1970s. Fate and biology changed that plan. We became pregnant and remained pregnant for many years, finally raising four children.
Also unlike many teachers, I did several different things before my current career. I had no idea what I wanted to do when I left school. (I think one well- meaning adult suggested teaching. As a result of my own school experience, my attitude to teachers caused me to say something uncharacteristically rude.)
So, I drifted into the public service and hated it. Then the urge to become a musician hit me and I quit to study French horn at the Queensland Conservatorium of Music. By the end of my course I found that I was spending more and more time on photography. After I finished there were no jobs for French horn players. Well, there were less than thirty positions in that field in the entire country and a lot of French horn students. So, what would you expect?
Once again I drifted into the public service and hated the life even more than the first time. I thought I was a pretty good photographer by that time and I quit my job to start my own business, concentrating on portraiture and weddings.
After I’d sailed through both stormy and calm waters for quite a while I started to study for an arts degree as a “hobby”, (with some trepidation, as the attitudes of my teachers had given me a belief that I was academically incompetent). I quickly learned that they had been very wrong.
Shortly after this I heard my doctor say, “You haven’t had a stroke THIS TIME, but you will if you keep going as you are. And I DON’T mean in twenty years time. It could be less than five years”. That’s scary when you are in your mid-30s. Coincidentally, a 48 year old photographer friend died suddenly of a heart attack shortly after. I also realised that my work hours were causing me to neglect my family. I sat down and contemplated the meaning of life very deeply.
I found that my success in study had given me a new perspective on education. I decided to become a high school teacher of English and Social Sciences.
My first teaching post was at Oxley Secondary College where more than a third of the students were immigrants or refugees battling with the English language. I became interested in teaching English as a second language as it was necessary for me to seek advice from the ESL teachers frequently. After Oxley Secondary College I taught in a number of multicultural schools that had a reputation for being “difficult”.
Predictably, I felt the need for another change eventually. I was still interested in teaching, so I enrolled for a Master’s degree in TESOL. I have been happily engaged in this ever since. (However, I must admit that I occasionally look over the fence to see what is in the next paddock.)
I’m still interested in photography and spend many happy hours at the computer enhancing and manipulating my images. If you would like to see some of my work, go to
http://www.photoartgallery.com/artist/vernon
Overall, I think that I was the typical kid who didn’t know what he wanted to be when he grew up. I simply decided that I didn’t want to grow up. I’m sure that there are people who would say that I have been successful in that decision.
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