Whe' yu' from?

"Whe' yu' from?" The question was put to me as I wandered, camera in hand, in the old square of Spanish Town, Jamaica's former capital. The local man, lounging in the shade of one of the colonial Georgian buildings that enclose the square, was mildly curious about what he took to be a typical white tourish photgraphing the sights of the decayed historic town. At that time, my home was in Kingston where i lived with my wife and baby son. I was then working in the Jamaican Government Town Planning Department in a job that took me all over the island. Turning to my questioner, I replied, "Kingston". There was a brief pause, and then the man spoke again: "No Man! Whe' yu' really from?" I still have difficulties when asked this question. Where am I from? What does this question mean? Does it refer to where I was born, where I spent my previous life or where I live now? Does it have a broader meaning, an enquiry about my origins in terms of background and previous experience? The following chapters are my attempt to answer these questions for my own satisfaction and, I hope, for the amusement of others who may be interested in the life of an ordinary English boy whose dream to travel and see the world was realized in ways he could not possibly have imagined. Finding an appropriate title for this book was difficult. Thursday's Child, North and South and War and Peace all came to mind but, unfortunately for me, those titles had been appropriated by other writers. Thursdays's Child is quite a popular book title, presumably because people who were born on that day and, in the words of the nursery rhyme, had 'far to go', are especially likely to have travellers' tales to tell or life stories of the rags-to-riches variety. Born on a Thursday, I have travelled a lot and I suppose that I have gone far in life. Coming from a working class family, I 'got on' by 'getting a good education' and a 'good job'. I decided against adding to the list of Thursday's Children. North and South would have reflected my life in Britain, spent in both the North and South of England, and my later years, divided between the Northern and Southern Hemispheres of the globe, as well as in countries commonly referred to as the 'advanced' North and the 'underdeveloped' South. North and South has already been appropriated by Mrs Gaskell, something that did not deter one popular American writer from using the title for a book of his. My memories of World War Two and the years afterwards made War and Peace a possible candidate, but readers expectnig an epic tale of Tolstoyan proportions may have been disappointed. To my knowledge, no other book has the title "Whe' Yu' From?". I am grateful to the Jamaican man whose question lingered in my memory and provided the title of this memoir, written decades later. This book is a word picture. It is, in a sense, a self-portrait, and like all portraits, it captures something of the character, it attempts to tell the truth, but it is not the whole truth. This is because it is not my intention to write my entire life story; rather I wish to tell about some of the things in my experience of life that have seemed important or interesting to me. Unlike a painted portrait, the picture I have created is intended to suggest the passage of time. While, for most of us in Western society, time is linear and unidirectional, like the flight of an arrov or the trajectory of a bullet, memory rearranges things, calling up images of the past in no particular order, making connections that may link events in various patterns, circular, web-like, superimposed. The stream of consciousness is very unlike that of streams we encounter in the physical world. Connections are made in all directions; thoughts hop back and forth in time and space, from topic to topic. My book is a composition drawn from periods, events and thoughts as I remember them. Like life itself, it is made up of patches, some good, some bad, but in my experience, always fascinating. In recording my memories, I have been as accurate as possible. Little of what I have written is about spectacular sights and strange customs. Much of it focuses on my more modest explorations includng observations of everyday things that have attracted my attention. Reading through the chapters, I am struck by my childhood freedom to roam and engage in 'dangerous' activities like climbing trees and playing beside streams, things that many children today are no longer allowed to enjoy. Also noticeable is the survival of traditions and superstitions from the distant past. Obvious too, is my preoccupation with place names, both official ones that appear on maps and sign boards and those used by locals and children, names rarely seen in print. If there is any uniting theme to be found in what I have written, it must be my education in the fields, woods and streets of my English homeland, in the various other countries in which I have lived and travelled, as well as more formally from books and in classrooms. Much of my book is concerned with people and places. Many of the people I mention are among those who have been, and often have remained, important and close to me. Others I remember from only the briefest of encounters, but they remain in my memory because of some specific incident or circumstance that fixed a lasting image in my mind. Some of my closest friends and relatives, however, appear nowhere in these pages or they receive only the slightest mention. This is not because they played an unimportant roles in my life. It is because this book is not the whole story. Among those whe receive little or no mention are some who are especially close to me, with whom I have shared happy and sad times and who have shown me and my family much kindness, giving support when this was needed. Some I have known since childhood and have popped up at various times in my life, often in different parts of the world. Although years may pass without me seeing them, in an important sense they are always with me. These people know who they are. I hope that they know how much I love and appreciate them. When writing my memoir, I consulted a few of the people mentioned in this book, but in the main, I have relied on my own memory, asided by daiary and notebook entries and old correspondence. In the preparation of this manuscript, I benefited greatly from the expert advice and encouragement of Neil Marr of BeWrite Books. My wife Anne, inspiration for this book, also contributed in the valuable role of critic. She has my undying gratitude.

Interviewing elites in criminological research: Negotiating power and access and being called 'kid'

Qualitative Criminology: Stories from the Field brings to life the stories behind the research of both emerging and established scholars in Australian criminology. The book’s contributors provided honest, reflective, and decidedly unsanitised accounts of their qualitative research journeys - the lively tales of what really happens when conducting research of this nature, the stories that often make for parenthetical asides in conference papers but tend to be excised from journal articles. This book considers the gap between research methods and the realities of qualitative research. As such, it aims to help researchers and students who conduct qualitative criminological research reflect upon their role as researchers, and the practical, ideological and ethical issues which may arise in the course of their research. It is also a call to criminologists to make public the ‘failures’ and missteps of their research endeavours so that we can learn from one another and become better informed and more reflexive qualitative criminologists.

Creating fashion professionals for the 21st century : a tale of pedagogical tensions and emerging challenges

The ‘Fashion Tales��� Conference identifies three fashion discourses: that of making, that of media, and that of scholarship. We propose a fourth, which provides a foundational base for the others: the discourse of fashion pedagogy. We begin with the argument that to thrive in any of these discourses, all fashion graduates require the ability to navigate the complexities of the 21st century fashion industry. Fashion graduates emerge into a professional world which demands a range of high level capabilities above and beyond those traditionally acknowledged by the discipline. Professional education in fashion must transform itself to accommodate these imperatives. In this paper, we document a tale of fashion learning, teaching and scholarship – the tale of a highly successful future-orientated boutique university-based undergraduate fashion course in Queensland, Australia. The Discipline consistently maintains the highest student satisfaction and lowest attrition of any course in the university, achieves extremely competitive student satisfaction scores when compared with other courses nationally and internationally, and reports outstanding graduate employment outcomes. The core of the article addresses how the course effectively balances five key pedagogical tensions identified from the findings of in-depth focus groups with graduating students, and interviews with teaching staff. The pedagogical tensions are: high concept/ authenticity; high disciplinarity/ interdisciplinarity; high rigour/ play; high autonomy/ scaffolding; and high individuality/ community, where community can be further divided into high challenge and high support. We discuss each of these tensions and how they are characterised within the course, using rich descriptions given by the students. We also draw upon the wider andragogical and learning futures literatures to link the tensions with what is already known about excellence in 21st century higher and further education curriculum and pedagogic practice. We ask: as the fashion industry becomes truly globalised, virtualised, and diversified, and as initial professional training for the industry becomes increasingly massified and performatised, what are the best teaching approaches to produce autonomous, professionally capable, enterprising and responsible graduates into the future? Can the pedagogical balances described in this case study be maintained in the light of these powerful external forces, and if so, how?

Spinning a sustainable yarn: assessing the claims of Australian companies’ eco-initiatives

In Australia, few fashion brands have intervened in the design of their products or the systems around their product to tackle environmental pollution and waste. Instead, support of charities (whether social or environmental) has become conflated with sustainability in the eyes of the public.However, three established Australian brands recently put forward initiatives which explicitly tackle the pre-consumer or post-consumer waste associated with their products. In 2011, Billabong, one of the largest surfwear companies in the world, developed a collection of board shorts made from recycled bottles that are also recyclable at end of life. The initiative has been promoted in partnership with Bob Marley’s son Rohan Marley, and the graphics of the board shorts reference the Rastafarian colours and make use of Marley’s song lyrics. In this way, the company has tapped into an aspect of surf culture linked to environmental activism, in which the natural world is venerated. Two mid-market initiatives, by Metalicus and Country Road, each have a social outcome that arguably aligns to the values of their middle-class consumer base. Metalicus is spear-heading a campaign for Australian garment manufacturers to donate their pre consumer waste – fabric off-cuts – to charity Open Family Australia to be manufactured into quilts for the homeless. Country Road has partnered with the Australian Red Cross to implement a recycling scheme in which consumers donate their old Country Road garments in exchange for a Country Road gift voucher. Both strategies, while tackling waste, tell an altruistic story in which the disadvantaged can benefit from the consumption habits of the middle-class. To varying degrees, the initiative chosen by each company feeds into the stories they tell about themselves and about the consumers who purchase their clothing. However, how can we assess the impact of these schemes on waste management in real terms, or indeed the worth of each scheme in the wider context of the fashion system? This paper will assess the claims made by the companies and analyse their efficacy, suggesting that a more nuanced assessment of green claims is required, in which ‘green’ comes in many tonal variations.

The story behind the stories: Qualitative criminology research in Australia

Qualitative Criminology: Stories from the Field brings to life the stories behind the research of both emerging and established scholars in Australian criminology. The book’s contributors provided honest, reflective, and decidedly unsanitised accounts of their qualitative research journeys - the lively tales of what really happens when conducting research of this nature, the stories that often make for parenthetical asides in conference papers but tend to be excised from journal articles. This book considers the gap between research methods and the realities of qualitative research. As such, it aims to help researchers and students who conduct qualitative criminological research reflect upon their role as researchers, and the practical, ideological and ethical issues which may arise in the course of their research. It is also a call to criminologists to make public the ‘failures’ and missteps of their research endeavours so that we can learn from one another and become better informed and more reflexive qualitative criminologists.

Qualitative criminology : Stories from the field

Qualitative researchers in the discipline of criminology perform a wide range of challenging tasks. They interview prisoners, police officers, magistrates and judges. They speak with survivors of domestic violence, and drink tea with the mothers of murdered children. They observe courts and communities, investigate the decision-making processes of juries and immerse themselves in the data they collect. They ask ‘big’ questions – ‘how do we criminalise the producers of toxic toys?’ – as well as ‘little’ questions – ‘what should I wear to conduct this interview?’ Qualitative Criminology: Stories from the Field brings to life the stories behind the research of both emerging and established scholars in Australian criminology. The book’s contributors provided honest, reflective, and decidedly unsanitised accounts of their qualitative research journeys - the lively tales of what really happens when conducting research of this nature, the stories that often make for parenthetical asides in conference papers but tend to be excised from journal articles. This book considers the gap between research methods and the realities of qualitative research. As such, it aims to help researchers and students who conduct qualitative criminological research reflect upon their role as researchers, and the practical, ideological and ethical issues which may arise in the course of their research. It is also a call to criminologists to make public the ‘failures’ and missteps of their research endeavours so that we can learn from one another and become better informed and more reflexive qualitative criminologists.

Writing the Barbaric Recent Past : Holocaust Fiction for Young Adults

Horror and redemption in Holocaust writing for young adults: Marcus Zusak’s The Book Thief, John Boyne’s The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas. While it has long been thought that the Holocaust is not an appropriate subject matter for young audiences, from The Diary of Anne Frank onwards it has always been part of their reading matter. Never, however, has there been so much interest as in the recent best-selling publications by Zusak and Boyne (the latter of which has been made into a film). This chapter examines the politics of crafting stories for young people about the unspeakable events of the recent past, about who has the right to ‘speak for’ the victims, and whether some genres (for example, fairy stories or fabulism) work best, given the horrific nature of the subject matter.

Panem et circenses : law, law and power in The Hunger Games

Like many cautionary tales, The Hunger Games takes as its major premise an observation about contemporary society, measuring its ballistic arc in order to present graphically its logical conclusions. The Hunger Games gazes back to the panem et circenses of Ancient Rome, staring equally cynically forward, following the trajectory of reality television to its unbearably barbaric end point – a sadistic voyeurism for an effete elite of consumers. At each end of the historical spectrum (and in the present), the prevailing social form is Arendt’s animal laborans. Consumer or consumed, Panem’s population is (with the exception of the inner circle) either deprived of the possibility of, or distracted from, political action. Within the confines of the Games themselves, Law is abandoned or de‐realised: Law – an elided Other in the pseudo‐Hobbesian nightmare that is the Arena. The Games are played out, as were gladiatorial combats and other diversions of the Roman Empire, against a background resonant of Juvenal’s concern for his contemporaries’ attachment to short term gratification at the expense the civic virtues of justice and caring which are (or would be) constitutive of a contemporary form of Arendt’s homo politicus. While the Games are, on their face, ‘reality’ they are (like the realities presented in contemporary reality television) a simulated reality, de‐realised in a Foucauldian set design constructed as a distraction for Capitol, and for the residents of the Districts, a constant reminder of their subservience to Capitol. Yet contemporary Western culture, for which manipulative reality TV is but a symptom of an underlying malaise, is inscribed at least as an incipient Panem, Its public/political space is diminished by the effective slavery of the poor, the pre‐occupation with and distractions of materiality and modern media, and the increasing concentration of power/wealth into a smaller proportion of the population.

Publishing, postage, and prizes : classic Australian children’s literature in the public eye

2012 saw the publication of competing and complementary lines of Australian “classics”: “A&R Australian Classics” (HarperCollins) and “Text Classics” (Text Publishing). While Angus and Robertson were key in establishing a canon of Australian children’s classics in the twentieth century, it was the Text Classics line which included a selection of young people’s titles in their 2013. In turn, Penguin Australia launched a selection of “Australian Children’s Classics”. In so doing, these publishers were drawing on particular literary and visual cultural traditions in Australian children’s literature. Public assertions of a particular selection of children’s books reveals not only contemporary assumptions about desirable childhood experiences but about the operation of nostalgia therein. In encouraging Australian adults to judge books by their covers, such gestures imply that Australian children may be similarly understood. Importantly, the illusion of unity, sameness, and legibility which is promised by circumscribed canons of “classic” children’s literature may well imply a desire for similarly illusory, unified, legible, “classic” childhood. This paper attends to public attempts to materialise (and legitimise) a canon of classic Australian children’s literature. In particular, it considers the ways in which publishing, postage stamps, and book awards make visible a range of children’s books, but do so in order to either fix or efface the content or meaning of the books themselves. Moving between assertions of the best books for children from the 1980s to today, and of the social values circulated within those books, this paper considers the possibilities and problematics of an Australian children’s canon.

School nurses and partnerships for health education : team teaching in the secondary school curricula

The purpose of this research is to examine School Based Youth Health Nurses experience of partnerships for health education and team teaching. The School Based Youth Health Nurse Program is a contemporary model of school nursing in Queensland, Australia. The role of the School Based Youth Health Nurse consists of individual health consultations and health promotion. This research analyses a subset of qualitative data collected for a larger project about the experience of school based youth health nursing. The Health Promoting Schools model is used as a deductive framework. The findings reveal five subthemes across the three areas of the Health Promoting Schools approach. There are two subthemes within the curriculum, teaching and learning area; We were on the same page so to speak and I can go and do my reports or whatever. There are two sub-themes within the partnerships and services area; I had a beautiful science teacher who was just delightful and really just wanted to do things in partnerships and It’s all airy fairy arty farty stuff that’s not important. There is one theme in the school organisation, ethos and environment area; I just don’t know how well the top of these organisations communicate with the bottom of those organisations. Successful partnerships for health education and team teaching between school nurses and teachers are based on personal relationships based on rapport which lead to trust and reciprocity. Partnerships are limited by teachers understanding of the role of the school nurse and engagement with school nurses in the classroom. Administrative support from the top down is fundamental.

Artists and their worlds

A catalogue essay written for 'Tall Tales and Other Adventures: a University of Southern Queensland, Dogwood Crossing, Miles and Flying Arts research project.'

The day that changed Grantham

"'Within two minutes it went from being no water out in the street to being waist deep inside the shop.' When Queensland went under water in January this year the tiny town of Grantham suffered the greatest loss of life: 12 people died. The locals clung to fences, floated on top of cars and supported each other to survive the unexpected and sudden wall of muddy water and debris that inundated their town. You'll hear tales of fear, bravery and loss in this moving radio feature."

The fantastic in the family sagas : implications for saga authorship

There is increasing acceptance that characterisation in the family sagas is complex enough to include the subtle incorporation of protagonists’ inner lives. Thus, despite saga authors’ apparent desire to pass on traditional stories, saga characterization brings with it the possibility of a connection between the medieval author and the early Icelandic community represented in the sagas, a break in the saga code of objective narration that adds further weight to recent arguments that saga authorship was conceived in broader terms than merely the preservation of oral tales. One such break in objectivity occurs in the range of responses to the fantastic, when characters are forced to interpret the supernatural or strange events in their lives. At such times, the author allows glimpses of the inner lives of characters, focussing our attention on the way in which characters perceived and dealt with extraordinary occurrences, but also highlighting and thematising the distinctive social context of the early Icelandic community.

The Games Concept Approach (GCA) as a mandated practice : views of Singaporean teachers

This paper reports on the views of Singaporean teachers of a mandated curriculum innovation aimed at changing the nature of games pedagogy within the physical education curriculum framework in Singapore. Since its first appearance over 20 years ago, Teaching Games for Understanding (TGfU), as an approach to games pedagogy has gathered support around the world. Through a process of evolution TGfU now has many guises and one of the latest of these is the Games Concept Approach (GCA) a name given to this pedagogical approach in Singapore. As part of a major national curricular reform project the GCA was identified as the preferred method of games teaching and as a result was mandated as required professional practice within physical education teaching. To prepare teachers for the implementation phase, a training program was developed by the National Institute of Education in conjunction with the Ministry of Education and well known experts in the field from the United States. For this part of the study, 22 teachers from across Singapore were interviewed. The data were used to create three fictional narratives, a process described by Sparkes (2002a) and used more recently by Ryan (2005) in the field of literacy. The stories were framed using Foucault’s (1980/1977) notion of governmentality and Bernstein’s (1996) notion of regulative discourse. The narratives reveal tales of confusion, frustration but also of hope and enthusiasm.

Playing Pranks: Traditions, communities & co-creative cultural performance practice

Pranks, hoaxes and practical jokes are co-creative cultural performance practices that appear across times, contexts and cultures. These practices include everyday play amongst families, friends and coworkers, entertainment programs such as Prank Patrol, Punked or Scare Tactics, and aesthetic and activist pranks perpetrated by situationist artists, guerrilla artists, and, most recently, culture ‘jammers’ or ‘hackers’ intent on turning capitalist systems back on themselves. Although it can, in common usage, describe almost any show off behaviour, a prank in the strictest definition of the term is a performance that deploys a very specific set of strategies. It is an act of trickery, mischief, or deceit, that must be taken as real, and momentarily cause real fear, anger or worry for an unwitting spectator-become-performer, who is meant to play along until the trick is revealed and their response can be represented back to the prankster, other spectators, or society as a whole, either for the sake of entertainment or for the sake of commentary on a cultural phenomenon. A prank, in this sense, deliberately blurs the boundaries between daily and dramatic performance. It creates a moment of uncertainty, in which both the prankster’s ability to be creative, clever, or culturally astute, and the prankee’s ability to play along, discern the trick, discern the point of the trick, and, in the end, be duped, be a good sport, or even play/pay the prankster back, are both put to the test. In this paper, I consider a number of pranking traditions popular where I am in Australia, from the community-building pranks of footballers, bucks parties and ‘drop bear’ tales told to tourists, to the more controversial pranks of radio shock jocks, activists and artists. I use performance, spectatorship and ethical theory to examine the engagement between prankster, pranked spectator, and other spectators, in this most distinctive sort of community-driven performance practice, and the way it builds and breaks status, social and other sorts of relationships within and between specific communities.