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My final results have come in for Tertiary and Adult Education Policy; a frankly remarkable 87%. Remarkable because this was the course that I had been seriously mis-assessed for my major project. The only way that I could have achieved the grade I have been given is if I achieved full marks for every other course component and 97.5% for the exam - which is possible, but honestly I am feeling more disturbed by the result than elated. I am in the peculiar situation where I think the mark I have received is too high and for the wrong reasons.
I'm currently rat-sitting for a neighbour who will be away for a few months. Because I don't think rats should stay in cages too much, I give them plenty of free range time. Two nights ago however the visitor rat went missing, which was quite distressing. This evening I spotted her by the front door; she had managed to get outside where she's spent the past two nights in the rain and with plenty of neighbouring cats prowling the estate. It was our cat who flushed her out into view. Mac the cat really likes his rat companions and has bonded quite strongly with the visiting rodent. So, hooray - cat saves rat. I'll be watching her very carefully from now on.
Like many, one supposes, I have been reflective over the past several days on the life of Nelson Mandela. Others have spoken of the greatness, the courage, and humility of this man and some grim determination to put to an end the racist state of apartheid. Others too have recalled how those how political conservatives used to argue for his execution, or contemporary chutzpah. Of course, Mandela was but one leader. There were others who names must also be remembered, such as Steve Biko, Ruth First, Joe Slovo, and Bishop Desmond Tutu - all truly heroic people, along with the millions who worked to dismantle the regime.
The anti-apartheid movement was the first political campaign that I was seriously involved in, from around the ages of 15-18 - a long time ago now. I recall the endless petitioning, planning meetings, the stalls, the daily picket line outside Coles (they stocked South African produce - which after a year they eventually cancelled), and of course, Artists United Against Apartheid. It was also my first experience of political burnout - I have become better at pacing myself since then. I remember shuddering at The Art of Noise's Instruments of Darkness which sampled Pik Botha's claim "Your agony must endure forever". Fast-forward to April 1994, just after I had moved to Melbourne. I awake to the Radio National news to hear that Nelson Mandela and the ANC had been swept to power. Amandla Ngawethu! All the work had not been in vain.
I'm currently rat-sitting for a neighbour who will be away for a few months. Because I don't think rats should stay in cages too much, I give them plenty of free range time. Two nights ago however the visitor rat went missing, which was quite distressing. This evening I spotted her by the front door; she had managed to get outside where she's spent the past two nights in the rain and with plenty of neighbouring cats prowling the estate. It was our cat who flushed her out into view. Mac the cat really likes his rat companions and has bonded quite strongly with the visiting rodent. So, hooray - cat saves rat. I'll be watching her very carefully from now on.
Like many, one supposes, I have been reflective over the past several days on the life of Nelson Mandela. Others have spoken of the greatness, the courage, and humility of this man and some grim determination to put to an end the racist state of apartheid. Others too have recalled how those how political conservatives used to argue for his execution, or contemporary chutzpah. Of course, Mandela was but one leader. There were others who names must also be remembered, such as Steve Biko, Ruth First, Joe Slovo, and Bishop Desmond Tutu - all truly heroic people, along with the millions who worked to dismantle the regime.
The anti-apartheid movement was the first political campaign that I was seriously involved in, from around the ages of 15-18 - a long time ago now. I recall the endless petitioning, planning meetings, the stalls, the daily picket line outside Coles (they stocked South African produce - which after a year they eventually cancelled), and of course, Artists United Against Apartheid. It was also my first experience of political burnout - I have become better at pacing myself since then. I remember shuddering at The Art of Noise's Instruments of Darkness which sampled Pik Botha's claim "Your agony must endure forever". Fast-forward to April 1994, just after I had moved to Melbourne. I awake to the Radio National news to hear that Nelson Mandela and the ANC had been swept to power. Amandla Ngawethu! All the work had not been in vain.
