Bios, published articles, reflections, silly stories

We’re not racist but …

“Why don’t they like people coming to Australia by boat?” Our child doesn’t understand why people in Australia are reportedly up in arms about welcoming people from other countries, people who are desperate to start a safe life here.

“Coming over on a boat is dangerous, and no-one wants people dying in the process,” I begin to explain.

“But that could take ages and they’re only trying to escape hardship in their own countries,” she reasons.

“Yes, but people objecting don’t think any reason is a valid reason to enter the country without a visa. They want them to join the queue.”

“They’ll all die waiting.”

I can’t answer, there’s no logic. See, this argument floating around, the one about “illegal immigrants” who take government funds, who don’t contribute to the community, who don’t assimilate – it just doesn’t stack up.

Calling people “illegals” and making diverse peoples feel unwelcome here while ignoring wealthy overstayers implies that it’s ok to be an economic migrant in Australia, but not someone fleeing for their life, often losing it in the process. Particularly an “illegal” who has brown skin, one with a funny name that has double the number of vowels than ‘normal’ names have.

Humankind this isn’t. The conversation continues.


1st Year, 2nd time round

Monday, first day of lectures on a new campus, and I accepted a ride. Angie maneuvered her rust bucket past the university’s main entrance, the fern-green Hyundai clunking and clattering as she heaved it into a U-turn. For the finale, she hung out of her car window: “Bye Fiooonnn, BYE, Good luuuuck!”

Throwing her a close-lipped smile I glanced around before embracing my awkwardness: “Byeee. Thanks, mum!”

The gratitude that filled me wasn’t only for the car lift. It was also for the enthusiasm she’d shown as I turned toward this field of study. Mum wasn’t around when I had my first crack at tertiary studies – I didn’t know where she lived back then and only a couple of friends from my teens and twenties ever got to meet her.

My husband’s insistence that we move back to Australia to raise our children gave me a second chance at being within Angie’s orbit. Attending lectures now has given me a second chance at something else, too – pursuing another compatible career.

Many people have insurmountable odds to overcome and a fresh path isn’t always accessible. I won’t be wasting this shot, so I’m raising this imaginary glass to “Making the most of second chances”. Oh, and a toast to mum for the much-needed lift she has given me.



Crested Butte, The ASSASSIN-WICH and I Made It Out ALIVE!

Tragicomic tale of author Kristen Lamb’s desperation as she prepares to present at a conference despite being violently ill. Was it the town water? The Zucchini of Doom? Or the salad dressing?

Kristen writes: “I am a person who honors my commitments to the point of lunacy, but…
Mostly I want you guys to know I pale in comparison to what other writers are willing to do for their craft”.

Kristen Lamb's Blog

Last weekend I taught at the Crested Butte Writing Conference in Colorado. Amazing conference with fantastic presenters (highly recommend) and though it was memorable and magical…I thought it would KILL me.

It Didn’t Begin Well…

I am NOT a fan of early morning flights. Even though I had everything packed and ready to go, I wake up WHEN?

3:00 a.m.

…and CANNOT get back to sleep.

So I get up, do some work and have plenty of time to get to the airport. I figure, “Eh *waves hand* I’m not presenting today, so I will just go to bed early.”

I finally get to Gunnison, Colorado, my ride picks me and the other presenters up. She’s already scouted out a restaurant that had gluten-free and dairy-free food. YAY, ME!

The Assassin-wich

Whenever I go to different regions, I make it a point to try what’s local. I ordered the Trout…

View original post 1,514 more words