You Have to Laugh

US politics has always been bizarre, but this takes the cake.

As the cliche goes, if it wasn't so consequential, you'd have to laugh.

My recommendation, gentle reader, is to laugh anyway...

A Tale of Two Popes

Pic courtesy Britannica

 Jorge Mario Bergoglio is an Argentinian Jesuit, and an ex-bouncer. His father's family left Italy in 1929 to escape the fascist rule of Benito Mussolini.

 He is essentially a pastoralist, a reformer, and perhaps represents the last hope of the Catholic church in its quest to remove the cancer of clericalism which has almost destroyed its viability in western societies.

Unless the church is reformed towards the authentic social developmental role it assumes in developing countries, especially in Africa, it has no future. The Australian church I grew up in has become a clerical, rather than a pastoral institution.

Pic courtesy Britannica

This is best illustrated by an experience I had as a rifleman, a Catholic conscript, in Vietnam in April 1970. My dog tags were embossed “RC”.

We were halfway through Operation Finschhafen and were recuperating in FSPB Anne, when the Catholic Chaplain, Captain Keith Teefey, invited all ranks in my Company (B Coy) to attend mass. He invited all present to take Communion irrespective of denomination, providing they did so with respect.

Most did so. Piety is often a characteristic of soldiers in harm’s way.

                                                        Mass at FSPB Anne 

I was impressed and wrote home telling my father about this. Dad was an advocate of eucamenism, committed to Vatican 2 and was chuffed, to the extent that he told the local parish priest, a conservative, whom out of respect, I will not identify.

This priest became very angry, and reported Keith Teefey to the Bishop of the Toowoomba Diocese who incidentally had no jurisdiction in the situation.

Subsequently the Bishop dismissed the complaint, pointing out that Canon law made that invitation (to those at risk of death) completely appropriate.

By 22nd April, two members of that congregation had died, one killed by an RPG in a bunker contact, the other died of heat exhaustion.

The parish priest maintained his outrage and refused to talk to my father. Dad withdrew my siblings from the local convent and enrolled them at the state school where he was principal at the time.

This example of the clerical hierarchy becoming indignant at an act of pastoral care was illustrative of the state of the church in Australia in 1970, and frankly it hasn’t improved much.

The greying of the Australian congregation is clear evidence of that.

The 2011 sacking of Bishop Bill Morris by Bergoglio's predecessor, ironically enough in the Toowoomba Diocese, was the nadir of clericalism in Australia. Morris' sin was his attempt to root out an insidious culture of child abuse in a couple of schools in the diocese, although that wasn't the reason given for his dismissal.

He had challenged the hierarchy and paid the price.

Unfortunately, Francis' intervention may have come too late.

Humanity, Humour and Humility - a Review of "Lest"

 

Mark Dapin seems to have made a habit of slaughtering sacred cows.

That's not unique, of course, but he does it with style and humour. There is a flavour of humility, and the writing is frequently self-deprecating.

I didn't have any idea what to expect when I found this book next to my self-published memoir in my local Dymocks. (I was checking how many copies were left, as I sell them, five at a time, on consignment). 

Some sweet young person had written a review on a slip of paper attached to the shelf. That was nice.

A bit of self-promotion is always good, and there are only eighty copies of the one thousand I had printed left. But I digress......

I had no intention of buying it, but given that I've read much of what he's written (except for his fiction - I don't read fiction) I grabbed it.

I did pay for it, by the way, something that didn't happen for one reader who stole a copy of my book from the shop last year. I'm not sure what to make of that.

Dapin's "Lest" is an engaging read. There is a unique balance of historical research, humour and whimsy that captures even the most cynical reader.

And there is a bit of that as well...cynicism, I mean.

War myths abound in our national literature. They're like barnacles. Challenging them can attract all manner of hostility.

I reckon Dapin has read Teaching as a Subversive Activity and has a highly developed ICD. That's Postman and Weingartner's Inbuilt Crap Detector for those who haven't read it.

He takes us through a range of beliefs that have been marinated in semi-sacred sentiment for generations, including Anzac Day, white feathers, Gallipoli, Monash, and the Emu War.

He ventures where others have feared to tread, covering No Poofters, spitting at Vietnam veterans, the role of the RSL, and makes predictions about myths to come. Nothing is sacred, even the old joke about Vietnam veterans and lightbulbs.

Yet the material is handled deftly, without offense to veterans, and with the objective clarity of an outside observer. Dapin is, after all, an ex-Pom, and I reckon that provides a perspective generally absent in lifetime locals.

Despite what I'd regard as a lightness in tone, there is obviously a deal of hard research embedded in this book.

It should be required reading in every Australian high school history curriculum. It won't be, of course. 

Most current high schoolers have a very vague grasp of recent wars, especially Vietnam, Iraq and Afghanistan.

But the myths endure.

 

 

An Gorta Mor and Remittances

 

Erin go Bragh - Image courtesy Ireland Reaching Out

Just the other day, gentle reader, I stumbled on an Irish history website which included an essay about remittances sent from the USA during An Gorta Mor (the Great Hunger, the irish famine). 

It was written by Dr Ciaran Reilly, historian at Maynooth University. 

The article reports that in 1851, Lord John Russell, then British PM, claimed that more than 1.5 million pounds had been sent to Ireland as remittances by new emigrants who had arrived in the USA. A survey of Irish newspapers from the late 1840s and early 1850s confirms this, with almost daily reports of people emigrating once they had received the remittance money.

I also remember reading about these remittances on my visit to Ellis Ireland's immigration museum a few years ago on a visit to New York. 

Ellis Island Immigration Museum

The process was not confined to the USA, with a mention in the article of letters received from Melbourne containing amounts ranging from fifty to five hundred pounds.

I knew from my own family history that my ancestors traveled to Moreton Bay on the Erin go Bragh during a voyage in 1862.

The Erin go Bragh was one of thirteen ships which transported people from Ireland to Australia under the Queensland Immigration Scheme. This scheme was established by Bishop James Quinn and assisted by Father Patrick Dunne with the aim of assisting Irish immigrants to make the arduous journey to Australia where it was hoped that they could start a new life of prosperity.

Remittances were used less frequently in Australia (or as then, the colonies of Moreton Bay, New South Wales and Victoria), but they did exist. I have no idea of the mechanics of this, or how the postal services worked back then to keep the funds secure.

If anyone reading this understands the process, please enlighten us in the comments.

Degrees of Separation - A Book Review (Sort of)

Recently I've reconnected with my class at boarding school in 1961/62. That's over sixty years ago. 

There was a reunion organised which I couldn't attend, but it led to a raft of email exchanges. 

It was almost eerie to discover that one of those people was, like me, an ex-Nasho, a Vietnam veteran, and like me, wrote a book about it. Strangely, I remember his name, but can't put a face to him. 

Again, it was a long time ago. 

Anyway, I tracked down his memoir which he called Dominoes and Marbles and read it in one sitting.

Apart from the fact that the subject matter describes experiences we shared which obvious resonates, it's an engaging narrative, and the product of a professional writer; a journalist.

One chapter, which he called Fortes in Fide,  and which describes his experiences at school, unearthed previously hidden memories of my two years at a boarding school nearly a thousand kilometres from my home in North Queensland, as a thirteen year old who had never been away from my family.

It reminded me of another schoolmate who often defended me when I was on the receiving end of a bit of bullying. In those days I weighed thirty kilograms wringing wet, and probably needed a bouncer. This schoolmate went on to join the regular army and was killed in the Battle of Long Tan in 1966.

The memoir covers much more than Vietnam. The author describes his childhood at Mount Tyson, his primary school experiences in the small state school there, and his time at Downlands.

He relates experiences at recruit training similar to mine, and his posting to Vietnam in September 1966, four years before me. He served with 5 RAR, the battalion my unit (7 RAR) replaced on its second tour.  

Much of the narrative describes his experiences as an apparently competent rugby union player, a journalist, and his appreciation of the music of the Vietnam era. 

For me, the memoir is very much an indulgence in nostalgia, but it's well worth a read as it captures the flavour of the time.

You can buy it online here - https://www.amazon.com.au/Dominoes-Marbles-Young-Times-Peace/dp/0994281439

  

Chicago 1968

 

Chicago 1968 (Image courtesy Washington Post)

1968 is a year I remember very well, gentle reader.

I had begun a teaching career, turned twenty-one (which had greater significance back then) and had reported in Warwick for my national service medical.

Bobby Kennedy was assassinated on my birthday, and I was passed A1 after my medical. Both these events effectively sealed my fate when it came to the following two years, as they combined to send me to Vietnam.

If I had failed my medical, or if Kennedy had the same luck as Trump, my experience would have been very different. When Kennedy announced that he was seeking the Democratic nomination, he made it clear that his campaign agenda prioritised opposition to the war in Vietnam over racial division and the problem of the cities.

From his announcement speech - I run to seek new policies - policies to end the bloodshed in Vietnam and in our cities, policies to close the gaps that now exist between black and white, between rich and poor, between young and old, in this country and around the rest of the world.

Whether or not his election as US President would have been timely enough to begin a withdrawal of US troops, and whether the Coalition would have followed quickly in this country will of course never be known, but it is feasible.

When Nixon was elected he talked about "peace with honour", but nevertheless began an indiscriminate bombing programme in Cambodia, which led, amongst other things, to the killing fields.

Where the bombs landed in 1972 (red)

Those events in 1968 demonstrate a frightening symmetry with what has so far occured in 2024. Then as now, the incumbent Democratic president will not seek re-election (Lyndon Johnson's decision); there were two assassinations back then, both successful, (Martin Luther King and Bobby Kennedy); and one this year which was unsuccessful; and the Democratic convention will be held in Chicago. The most significant difference between 1968 and 2024 is that the single (so far) assassination attempt was unsuccessful.

The 1968 Convention was a landmark event which vividly demonstrated the deep divisions within the Democrats, but more significantly within the US community. Those divisions are duplicated in 2024, even if the fault lines are different, but violence is always simmering just below the surface.

I'm reminded of two cliches that go hand in hand when it comes to that country across the Pacific. One is that violence is as American as apple pie, and the other is that history doesn't repeat, but it rhymes.

However you look at it, the US is clearly at a crossroads now just as it was in 1968. By the time Saigon fell in 1975, fifty-seven thousand Americans, millions of Vietnamese, and five hundred Australians had died as a result of decisions made in the US. Many decisions had been made before those events in 1968, but many were made after that pivotal year. A reading of the Pentagon papers is informative.

Let's hope that the cadence of the rhyme fails, because if it doesn't, and more deadly conflict ensues,  there will be outcomes for Australians, just as there were in 1968, and many will be negative.

Affirmative Action

 

It was different in 1968

Teaching has always been a tough gig, but these days it seems to be getting tougher.

The attrition rate for early career teachers is pretty constant, and remains a problem. 

This report provides some useful detail.

Recently, reports of misogynistic behaviour directed at young female teachers have appeared. This essay describes an experience that is, unfortunately, far from unusual. 

It's nothing new, of course, and the plight of the casual or relief teacher is well-known. I had the opportunity to do some relief teaching post retirement, but chose advisory visiting teaching instead. The idea of working with a different bunch of students each day did not appeal. 

Frankly, without the possibility of properly engaging with your students for more than one day at a time, it seemed to me a futile exercise, despite the fact that it pays well.

This issue overlaps with the problem of gender balance within the profession, or as it frequently labelled, the feminisation of teaching.

If the statistics weren't enough evidence of a problem, my recent experience as a consultant made it abundantly clear. I had been working for a number of years in support of the rural primary school where I started my career in 1968.

At the time I was a member of a staff of eighteen, eight of whom were male. During my sojourn in support of the same school between 2006 and 2017, the school which now has thirty full timers on staff had only one male teacher.

The janitor-groundsman was male, but that really didn't assist. The phenomenon of a staff of female teachers led by a male principal (the cliche we hear a great deal) was also absent, as the principal was female.

In any profession, a gender balance which has gone beyond say, 80/20 either way, is regarded as undesirable. This gender balance report was compiled from the standpoint of improving diversity in corporate structures.  Most contemporary writings on the subject adopt a point of view which discriminates between the raw numbers and the hierarchical structures as they apply to gender in the profession.  

The problem is complicated in that whilst a large majority of teachers are female, the hierarchical structures within the profession favour career paths for men because they don't have to manage the interruptions caused by childbirth and child rearing.

Does this mean that the problems encountered by the author of the essay above are insoluble? 

I hope not, as apart from creating a difficult path for aspiring teacher of either gender, they simply encourage a view of teaching as a profession lacking in clout and significance. There is some irony in the fact that teachers are roundly criticised in some (especially right wing) media for leading children astray in a political sense, whilst these same criticisms imply that the profession is not all that important.

Perhaps there is room for a campaign of affirmative action that attracts males to the profession, driven by the same energy used (for example) to attract women into the trades and STEM. There is ample evidence out there that boys need strong and non-violent male models who can successfully relate to both genders.

Given the current worthy emphasis on the message that "women can do anything", maybe we need another message that says that "men can do most things, including teaching".

Diversity, by definition, requires balance.