(Y) Kilmore (7) Social life and winding up

When I got back to Kilmore from London with the Zambia job in the bag I was in great form. I was full of life again -so full of it in fact that I pulled a calf muscle playing football with the kids! This brought me into contact with Dr. X who in fact was very helpful to us in our latter days in Kilmore. He didn’t like the W’s.

One of the things I did for the school during this six months was to interview for staff in Lusaka. I interviewed several staff and appointed two or three teachers. Meanwhile, our social life in Kilmore picked up a bit: Since all my colleagues from the school had abandoned us I was forced to make new contacts: I got to know B L very well. He was a former CEO at the school. He and his wife L, who had been Bursar had worked for RW before RS had arrived at the school. In those days R W and C W didn't work at the school. B told me some incredible stories -so incredible they were almost in the realm of fantasy. I’ll mention just a couple:

B told me he was working at the school before there there were students in it. He was setting up the Academic programs. The W’s had assured him there were Japanese students ‘on their way’ from the Japanese Ministry of Education. After a long time B became suspicious, and in spite of RW's  continued reassurances he insisted on going to Japan to meet with the Ministry officials. RW actually accompanied B on this trip to meet the officials. B says that through an embarrassed interpreter it was clear that the officials from the Japanese Ministry of Education knew absolutely nothing about a so –called list of students destined for the Kilmore International School ! After the meeting RW had to come clean with Be and admitted to him that the list was in fact entirely fictitious!

When confronted with this by B RW merely whined “I’m sorry! I just didn’t want to upset you!”

What a soap opera!

But incredibly, RW wasn’t finished with the ‘list’ yet! He later boasted to B that he had used the same fictitous list and presented it as a passenger list, forged on ‘Qantas’ letterhead to persuade the bank to extent his credit on his overdraft!

How much NC ever knew about all this I don’t know. Eventually B  got fed up and RW and CW started to manoueuvre to get themselves on to the premises. When they were ready they accused B and his wife of incompetence. ( I remember NC referring to this this at my own interview in London) RW ran B and his wife off the premises after inspecting their briefcases.

NC bought RW's  version of events, hook ,line and sinker and disappeared from view back to Melbourne.

I think it was all just really an excuse to get into the school and take it over. RW and his wife , I believe, always did want to be in the school.

But B was to have revenge of a sort. They sued RW successfully for wrongful dismissal and the latter was ordered to pay compensation. He refused of course and by this time B's wife’s health was suffering so B settled out of court for a much smaller sum than was originally awarded.

The strain of the court case had taken it’s toll. The two families lived in the same road and had to see each other almost every day during the lawsuit. B told me that at a critical stage in the court case one night they were wakened by the headlights of a car shining into their bedroom. It was RW. He returned on several nights. There was a sinister side to RW which he was not afraid to express when he needed to.

There was also a sinister side to CW. When I came back from London I found Marie in a very distressed state: she said she had heard a noises at night near the clothes line. The next day she had found one of our son’s ‘T’ shirts thrown on the path of the house with a hole cut out of it in the shape of heart. The person had clearly used a scissors to do this. My son was three at the time so it was not a message from an admirer. We surmised that  the person with the scissors was CW.

Social life in Kilmore

We were friendly with John and Linda W and their family. They invited us as guests to their farm in northern Victoria for Christmas. It was a great experience to see the outback complete with flies and huge huntsman spiders in the bedroom! Maria and Linda were great friends.. Their children were wonderful and all got on well together.

We are disappointed though that they didn’t keep in touch after we left Kilmore. But that's life-people don't bother to keep in touch. We went on numerous trips with them to the surrounding areas of Kilmore which were beautiful.

We were also great friends with the M's.  E was a good mate of mine. I found it hard to relate to Australian males. His family had come from Carrigart in Donegal. They were a typical Irish Australian Catholic family and very proud of their Irish roots. We used to go to Mount Disappointment for Barbecues with them regularly in the forest surrounding Kilmore. I think these visits and this friendship kept me sane during my trials and tribulations as Acting Principal of the Kilmore International School. I spent a lot of time in E’s House. They are some of my best memories of Australia. They were a great family - the salt of the earth and I hope we meet them again some day.

Sadly that friendship was put under great strain subsequently by a regrettable incident: we went to the Gold coast in April 1994 to have a break. This was just before I left Kilmore to go to Zambia. I asked E to look after the house. As usual I left things lying about the house. E must have seen my cheque book and been tempted. When we returned I noticed one of my cheques had been removed from my chequebook. I went to the bank and they found the cheque had been cashed-it was only for a hundred dollars.

By a complete coincidence I met E in Town as I was leaving the bank and I told him what had happened –not suspecting for a moment that he would be the culprit!

When I told him what had happened, to my total astonishment, he confessed and begged me not to go the police! I felt very sad - just kind of empty and sorry for him. E had six children and was not in regular work. There is an even sadder ending to this. Linda W told us later that eventually E did get a Government job and he was stupid enough to put his hands in the till. I understand he was in jail for two years. What a tragedy for that lovely family. I have not been able to contact him although I tried several times through Linda. He was such a generous and open fellow E. He was open-he didn't have that awful reserve the English and the Australians have.I really liked him–and can easily forgive him his faults. I just hope the family have recovered again. He is one of a few, along with Linda, the F's and Ann L that I would like to meet up with again.

Our neighbor at Bindley Court Ann H was also a very kind person. She had a great interest in local history. She was very forgiving about the golf balls that used to arrive in her front garden from her golf addicted neighbor! - and she eventually visited us when we moved to Brisbane. Her son Michael used to lend us his lawn mower which I drove with great relish around Bindley Court and Sutherland street! We also kept in touch with the N's - Arrumugan and Pram from South Africa for a while but unfortunately again they failed to keep in touch in the end.

No account of Kilmore would be complete without a mention of the fish and chip shop which we frequented once or twice a week . The owner was a cheerful Dubliner called Lewis who served us extra large portions of chips to honour the Irish connection!

Post script.

This chapter in my life has left some scars. It is of course impossible to see oneself as one really is. I can only guess how I must appear to others. But I am probably safe in saying that I have always been introspective and have been trying to second guess my self for the best part of my adolescent and adult life!

Perhaps an objective observer might ask why I feel the need to seek friendship and intimacy all the time. Why are my expectations of friendships and people so high? (For I suspect that indeed they are). I certainly don’t know. A biographer might look for some deep Freudian explanation for this thirst for intimacy. Perhaps there is one –but I have certainly not been able to explain it to myself with any satisfaction.

Why am I writing? Or perhaps more accurately -To whom am I writing? Who is my audience? My children/grandchildren? –as I often claim to myself? To the people involved in this story? Although I will never see them again there are possibly some who I would still would like to read it. Maybe it is just the cathartic outspewings of a neurotic mind.

There is nothing of a traumatic nature in my childhood to explain it. I was not dropped on my head by my mother! On the contrary I had caring and responsible parents – and there was nothing that could even be remotely thought of as abuse. I had an unexceptional childhood most of which I cannot even remember.

My impressions are those of my adolescent years when I became aware that I had a very sensitive nature. This hypersensitivity has lead to a tendency to overeact in both private and professional relationships. That is what I see as a possible source of anxiety attacks. But it is only a descriptive phrase isn’t it? It is not an explanation–what does it mean?

I do not believe that one can ever 'move on' from some experiences. One just tries to live with them-uncomfortable although though it may be.

I still awake on many mornings at the witching hour –the hour before dawn and play through scenes from Kilmore in my mind. I am not in control of this –it just happens on most mornings of my life-even now- nearly twenty years later. Indeed I am writing this now at the witching hour! Writing this may help me to accept some of the disappointments – I don’t know –there are times when I think it might be better to forget entirely-but I can’t seem do that. I have certainly tried. Sometimes I have even wished I had had a frontal lobotomy just to erase the memories!

But there were many good memories too. In spite of my regret at the mess I made of some of the relationships, there were many good ones too. I don’t think the F's ever realized how important they were to me. For me, we had no friends in a very strange and not particularly friendly environment.

To them no doubt I/we were no more than a passing ship in the night. Just another naive migrant family. They must have wondered why in the hell would we have come to a place like Kilmore. But to me, the F's were the embodiment of all that was good about Australia. They alone were justification in itself for coming to Australia. It was to make such friends that we had come.

I still like to remember the warm reception Pete F would give me on a Saturday morning as I knocked on the door of the house to call in for a chat. With a broad smile and a handshake he would ply me with coffee after coffee as we exchanged yarns about the weeks events at the school or I gave him my first impressions of Australia. Perhaps he was humouring me and was too polite to tell me what he really thought of my Irish habit of dropping in. A quite often didn’t arrive into the kitchen until I was leaving as she liked to sleep in on Saturday mornings! It was great crack – as they say in Belfast!

In recent years I have come to realise how similar the English and Australians are. They are both very reserved. They are closed and I feel lonely among them.

The Irish,of course, are not reserved. I may be introverted but I am not reserved. I am open. I found Africans and South Americans not at all reserved -and very open -that is perhaps why I feel a certain affinity with these peoples when I am living among them. I feel a 'Joie de vivre' which I just can't feel in Australia or England.

2009 Democracy? I'm off to Mars

Fascism in Iran, Burma, North Korea. Axis of evil. Absolutely.

Yet, what do we find in the 'Democracies" including  Australia?

While lecturing the rest of us about freedom and democracy the Americans have no Government medical system to protect their own vulnerable citizens.

Their corporations sell out their own citzens' jobs to the lowest bidder by moving to countries where thay can employ slave labour.

They are mean and ungenerous and demonise socialism-the most noble political idea to emerge during the evolution of Homo Sapiens.

With the help of television and newspapers and the internet they have turned a noble idea like 'communism' into a dirty word.

They have elevated and legitimised the 'bully' to superstar-disguising him in right-wing conservative political parties in "Democracies" all over the planet.

They bully their tiny neighbours (like Cuba) who are no threat to them whatsoever.

And they arm themslves with guns so they can shoot each other rather than control their own greed.

Is this really the best we can do with 'Freedom' and 'Democracy'?

Hasn't it ever occurred to anyone since Ralph Waldo Emerson that a nation needs to be run in the same way as a family?

Who ever heard of asking a family member to vote out of self-interest to elect their Dad or Mum? It is a contradiction in terms.

So is asking people to vote for their own interests in a democracy.

Or try asking a teenager if they would prefer to have a Big Mac or or wash the dishes?

Doh!

I'm off to Mars.

I also applied locally to schools in Melbourne and I had several interviews. One interview was in Canberra at Canberra Grammar. I drove up and stayed the night at my own expense. I never told them that I had come specifically to Canberra to look for a job. I felt I looked too desperate. I was.

I didn’t get a job offer.

I also applied for Geelong Grammar as an English teacher. Another farsical interview:The interview seemed to go ok considering the interviewers didn't seem to know what they were doing, but for some reason I wasn't confident of the outcome. I was really riled when they didn't even bother to notify me if my application had been successful or not! I phoned the school to register my disgust and was fobbed off several times. Eventually the Head, having come back from a trip overseas where he was in fact being interviewed himself, phoned and apologised on behalf of his underlings for not notifying me earlier: sour grapes? or a small victory for professionalism, I'm not sure...

I also had a disastrous interview at Swinburne University where two  amateurish ESL females about half my age giggled  and bantered away to each other throughout the interview. Again it was an English language job. I always find interviews for English positions demeaning. The quality of the professionals in the teaching of English as a foreign language in Australia, as anywhere else, is very low – many part-time housewives trying to get back into the labour market without qualifications looking for a job. My interviewers at Swinburne asked me questions like “How would you teach vocabulary ?".

I felt like saying ‘Let me show you how I can tie my shoelaces’

Such questions are very difficult to answer without having a context and knowledge of the students.

I was enraged by this type of interview. I had many more like it in Queensland. I even had one where I subsequently discovered that I hadn’t been given the job because the Director of Studies, whose Father owned the Language College –  didn’t like my clip-on glasses. I must admit I did look a bit like Mickey mouse in the interview!

The disappointments just kept coming one after the other.

I went to Hobart for a science job. The Head seemed to be not in the slightest bit interested in me. I think this was more than just his Australian lack of curiosity.( I have observed many Australians seemed to lack the most basic curiosity about people –especially their personal and professional history.) In this case, I suspect he had already talked to the Chairman  on the phone.

The biggest disappointment of all was at Presbyterian Ladies College. I knew the Head there - a dour, but honourable Scot. I had met him a few times in a professional capacity and, as we got on well, he invited me to apply for the position of Curriculum Coordinator at his school. I went to the first interview and did ok. I then got a second interview with himself which was a disaster. because, by this time, my confidence had almost evaporated entirely and and I  was losing a little more each day with each letter of rejection and failed interview.. For the first time ever at an interview I had an attack of nerves – a complete ‘blankout’ with the Scot. I remember him asking me what role did I think English played in the curriculum. Such a simple question, and he was almost apologetic about asking it. I could have given a quite comprehensive answer. But in the circumstances I just sat there like a stunned mullet and mumbled incoherently.

After the interview I returned home in despair.

I think it was at this point that I started to change my attitude towards the whole Australian experience. Up until then I was still positive about the long term prospects. But at this point , prolonged experience of negative emotions and a maelstrom of negative energy found its expression building inside me as antipathy to Australia. Perhaps this was the only way my ego could cope with the pressure–by projecting this negativity onto some inanimate construct such as 'Australia'

But perhaps this was  better  than projecting my antipathy  it onto persons , or even onto myself? .The mind plays tricks when stressed. I sought counselling.

I have to confess that in spite of my best efforts, this antipathy to ‘Australia’ has never entirely disappeared.

I still harbour resentments. This is a great disappointment to me as I like to pride myself on having survived and had a positive experience of the nine countries in which I have lived. in my my antipathy and resentment to Australia I saw my own failure.

Immediately after this interview  I had arranged to fly to Chiang Mai in Thailand to visit my friends.
.
I had to get away from everything. I had to get away from Melbourne –Australia even. Marie and the children had gone to Mexico and I couldn't face being alone any longer in Melbourne. Living literally within sight of the school and not receiving so much as a phone call from anyone was driving me to despair.

When I was in Chiang Mai I received a fax from the Scotsman telling me that I hadn't got the job. I was devastated but couldn't show it too much with my friends around. While I was in Chiang Mai my friend  suggested I apply by fax for a job as Head of an International school in Chile. When I got back to Melbourne, I received a fax inviting me to interview in Londo for the Chile job. The fax said I was one of three candidates. Harry was able to tell me that Gabbitas Truman and Thring felt I had a chance . I booked my ticket to London but as the departure date came closer I became more and more nervous about wasting money on such a trip. I got cold feet. I lost my nerve and on the morning of my flight I drove to the airport and cancelled my ticket (no internet in those days, and no refund!).

It was now about October or November and I was becoming desperate. The smoothoperator  had arrived in Melbourne and had made no effort to contact me just like all the rest. I guessed he  would last about six months. As it turned out I was not far wrong.

The school had "paid me out" but only on condition that I 'leave the country' .  I didn't do that,  but  I could not create too much fuss.

Around Christmas I applied for a job in El Salvador as IB Coordinator. I indicated on my application that I would be prepared to go to London for interview  (and pay for my flight. I was becoming desperate). I was invited to interview, and when I got there I was interviewed by Mr. Nondescript. I can't remember what he looked like  The interview went well. But, for some reason I didn't feel confident I was going to be offered the job by Mr. Nondescript. I never actually let him know that I had travelled all the way form Australia for an interview. Again I didn’t want them to know I was desperate. 

I stayed with friends in Essex  At the end of the interview Mr.  nondescript had  told me he would let me know the outcome before I went back to Australia. As I waited, I met old friends from Colombia.  By a coincidence, it turned out that my friend  had been one of the other two candidates for the job in Chile ! He didn't get it either! I heard nothing from Mr. Nondescript before the end of the conference, and  I was so furious I sped into London to find him. He had already checked out of his hotel and no doubt was nearby at the ECIS recruitment fair.

London:ECIS recruitment Fair

I arrived at the fair and went to see the Secretary of the ECIS, and asked him if he would mind me looking for Mr. Nondescript. The secretary  had no problem with this and I found a rather sheepish looking Mr Nondecript not far away. I nailed him and asked him why he had not contacted me and enjoyed watching him squirm - one of the many millions of people who say they will ‘get back to you’ and don’t bother . 

By another amazing coincidence at this conference I ran into the Yorkshireman  again! He was recruiting for his school in Portugal . He told me that he knew of a Director who was looking for a Head of Secondary in the International School of Lusaka in Zambia. Was I interested? Well, Yes, I was! The Director’s name was Funky.  So, I spent the next two days interviewing with Fuunky,  and within 48 hours I had been offered a job.!

I was ecstatic. He wanted me to start immediately but I managed to arrange with Funky that I start in Lusaka in July. This gave me six months to pack up in Sutherland Street. Why six months? I don't know why I insisted on this six month wait but I suspect it was a lack of confidence in myself to start immediately –I was too close to the recent  traumas  experiences to want to throw myself into the fray straight away. I needed time to rest and psyche myself up. Meanwhile we would stay on the dole.

2009 Democracy and Collectivism

The flaw in democracy is that people get what they want.

What people want is self-centred.

It's not Rocket Science.

Corporatism and private enterprise have failed.

It's time for a new form of communism - with a new name.

People in the 'Utopia' of the new millenium conservative democracies in Australia, the United Kingdom and the United States etc live as lonely individuals alienated from each other their in different worlds.

They ignore each other.

They have lost the values of the collectivist cultures.

Cars and DVDs and Ipods they may have - but no joy.

(W) Kilmore (5) The End Game

  Kilmore: The End Game

Mum and Dad went back to Ireland at the end of January 1992 and  I was in increasing trouble at school. the bursar said she wanted the use of the school car, something i had had the use of for more than a year. She had her way.

I started to cycle to school. I knew the end game had begun. Things were brought to a head by the most infamous of all incidents that happened at my time at the school:

The Staffroom Incident

One day I was in the staff room with most of the other staff at break time . Everyone was there. Suddenly Rasputin began a rant: speaking in a loud voice in a  strident and strained tone in what appeared to be some sort of prepared speech. After a short while I realized that this speech was an attack on me and my leadership. Basically, I was being accused of not consulting with staff  on a range of issues. 

After he had finished his tirade, most curiously,  he asked me what I was doing in school on Saturday mornings! This was an absurd question to the balanced individual-as it is obvious to all what a Principal might be doing on a Saturday morning in a school-working of course.

Being in school of Saturday morning is something one normally expects to be applauded for! But in the atmosphere of that school this was apparently a ‘suspicious’ activity. In certainly was to to Rasputin - the blowfly's lapdog.  Both Rasputin and the blowfly were now suspicious of me. A few days previously they had changed the lock on the business office door. I can only think they didn’t want others , particularly myself, to have access to the papers inside. Frankly, it didn’t bother me as I never went in there anyway.

Anyway, the abrasive and disrespectful tone of his speech was such that the rest of the staff were acutely embarrassed and quite naturally began to leave the room. I asked him to come and speak with me in my office. But no, he wouldn’t do that. He only wanted to rant if there was an audience.He was the classic bully of course and nothing more than a stooge of the blowfly. He had sold himself to them. He just wanted to demonstrate to everyone else how important he was, and that he could say anything to anybody at any time. The blowfly hought he was indispensable to RW.I suppose Hitler also thought Goebbels and Goering were indispensable  Anyway, Rasputin was wrong, he  was wrong and eventually sacked by the blowfly, like everyone else some time after I had left.

In my view the incident was very serious as it upset our small staff and undermined by authority to the point where I felt I could not carry on unless something was done about him. I thought my position was untenable

I got in touch with the chemist, who was acting Chairman of the Board in the Chairman's  absence when the latter was too 'busy' to come to the school, which was almost always by this time. ( In fact. I only saw the Chairman twice at the school in my twenty months  there.)

In classic Nixon fashion I then  made one or one or two tactical mistakes which were to make things much worse for me. First, the next day I was sick. I suppose I could have gone to school but I really wasn't well with some gastric problem although it probably looked to everyone like I had been run off the premises! I negotiated with the chemist  about the Rasputin rant over the phone from my house. I was insisting he  do something about Rasputin: his behavior had been thorougly unprofrssional and required a sanction. In the end he agreed to investigate. He made an investigation and decided that Rasputin's   behavior was totally unacceptable. However as usual the problem was what could be done? Rasputin was The blowfly's stooge.  While I was still in my house the chemist  had a meeting with the staff assuring them that I was coming back and that Rasputin  would have to apologize to me for the outburst.

I was initially pleased with this. I certainly believed the chemist-whether or not he ever had the intention of making Rasputin apologise or not I don’t know.  But it never happened. There was no apology.  I  certainly didn’t think  that  the chemist would NOT back up his words with actions. As it turned out, he simply asked Rasputin  to apologize without insisting that it be done in his presence. The result was of course that Rasputin  said yes he would apologize but didn't! Moreover, when I suggested  that he come to the office and apologize in front of a witness he came to the office but not only refused to apologize but  also refused to give a guarantee that he would not repeat the behavior.

 Things were at crisis point! When I told the Chemist  that I insisted on an apology as my position was untenable, the chemist then said he couldn’t make him apologise. 

This changed things entirely for me. The staff were under the impression (having been told by the chemist, the Deputy Chairman of the Board himself,  that RI had indeedadmitted his unprofessional behavior and apologized to me for it. The reality was he had not . On the contrary, he clearly stated that he had no intention of pulling his head in.

My position was untenable.

the Chairman could not be contacted, as usual.  I went back to work after a couple of days and the blowfly and his wife  continued to play their games.

The next move was to stop the mail going into my office. A lot of my work was generated from the mail. The blowfly started to intercept the mail and divert it to my assistant. When I realized what was happening I asked her to redirect mail which was redirected to her by the blowfly's  to my office. This was only partially effective, and it started to cause a strain between my assistant  and myself. In retrospect I see that this is of course exactly why the blowfly  did it.

Although, I could not see it clearly at the time I realize in retrospect that the blowfly's  tactics were very clever. He knew I had a good relationship with my assistant,  and I don't think neither she nor I could clearly see at first that he was going to do his best to sabotage it.

He was successful, eventually.  But,  I began to see what he was up to.

I became frustrated with my assistant  because I thought she did not see what the blowfly was doing. The blowfly was clearly building a case to the Board that I wasn’t doing any work- and that my assistant  was doing it. In fact, it was true to a certain extent!  She was getting  the mail and much of the work generated from it.

Sometime later the wedge was firmly driven between us when the chemist  informed me subsequently that my assistant  had been given extra money during these last few weeks - some money for her ‘Extra responsibilities’. My assistant denied requesting it.

For me, this was the last straw. the chemist's words,  and his lack of action over Rasputin acted on me like a slow poison. I came to believe both the chemist and my assistant were going to just watch as the the blowfly  did with me what he wanted. In the chemists case, he was just going to try to keep me in place until the smoothoperator  arrived from Hamburg. I thought my assistant would ring her hands but stay in place until the smoothoperator arrived from Germany.

 I began to suspect treachery from all sides.. I was certainly in the process of some sort of breakdown or ‘anxiety attack’ –one of the characteristics of which is paranoia.

This type of anxiety attack has subsequently recurred from time to time causing me bother both at work and at home. I have learned to  control it now with counselling and medication.

But my tolerance to stress decreased after this episode. I also started to drink too much alcohol at this time – not in binges- but on a daily basis in order to anaesthatise myself from my trials and get some sleep. The alcohol only increased my irritability.

By the time the smoothoperator arrived in March from Hamburg for a visit I had had enough. Mentally, I was exhausted and beaten. I could see no no point in staying on until July when my contract was up. I felt increasingly isolated. I had become estranged from my assistant. She could do nothing except watch and wring her hands.  I went to the Chairman,  but he seemed just to want me to hold on until the smoothoperator  came permanently in July. In fact, this seemed to be everyone's strategy.

I could see that this would be an ideal scenario for everyone except me. I now knew the the blowfly and his wife were basically vampires were Vampires and no-one could work with them. I knew my contract would not be renewed - some excuse would be found to get rid of me. In the end I was convinced none of them would care. Yes, they would wring their hands and say how awful it all was! But in the end it would be me left in middle of the bush with no job.

The mind games of the W’s continued. They were absurd. Each day in my office the blowfly  would pull up my blinds so he could see in as he walked past - just to unnerve me! I was, and still am convinced that he punctured my bicycle tyre with a drawing pin one day so that I could not go home! Who knows whether he did or not? Such was my paranoiac state of mind.

in desperation, I sent a  fax to the smoothoperator, and another  and another to the chairman castigating them  for their  lack of support against continued intimidation by the the blowfly.

With this latter fax I think I burned my boats with the chairman. I remember my exact words. With a little Irish melodrama I announced in the fax that if ‘he continued to procrastinate and prevaricate his soul would roast in hell’.  These words are  indicative of my state of mind at the time.

I didn’t realize it at the time but the truth is there was not very much the Chairman could do at the time. It was far too late to do anything.

And things turned out as I had predicted. The smoothoperator  arrived in March. I told him what had happened with Rasputin. I said I wanted to resign immediately as my position was not tenable. The blowfly and the bursar and the chemist  him their side of the story. I don’t know what he believed –but he certainly didn’t understand at that time what the blowfly and his wife were like were like. He did later of course -as he fell out with them within a few months and resigned himself, like everyone else who worked for the blowfly.  I don't know what my assistant  said either but I am confident she would not have undermined me by anything she said. I know the other senior female member of staff spoke in my defence. But it was all pointless.

The new plan of the smoothoperator was quite simple. I was to resign and that would be a major problem solved for everyone (except myself) and my assistant would take over until July when the smoothoperator arrived  permanent  (or so he thought at the time). That is what happened: the smoothoperator  went back to Germany to finish his contract and and the chemist  was asked to handle my ‘Departure’.

This he did with aplomb. I was effectively escorted off the premises by the chemist  in the time-honoured fashion of other administrators of the this  International school – quickly to be ignored and forgotten like the rest.

We were left high and dry in our house, not 200 metres form the school.

The most painful thing about the next few weeks was the complete absence of communication from anybody connected with the school. If things had been bad, they were about to get much, much worse.

Marie and I agree that the next year in particular – in fact-the next few months were perhaps the most unhappy of our lives. Starting almost immediately there was complete silence from everyone we knew. All the colleagues and people who had been friendly towards us appeared to disown us. Nothing from the chairman, the chemist, the secretaries, the teachers. Even my assistant did not visit us. There was no-one connected with the school who had anything to do with us apart from the other senior female teacher. We just became invisible-non citizens in the literal sense of the word –even to our neighbours–one of whom was a teacher at the school, and  with whom I thought I had a good relationship. We were completely  cold-shouldered. And I was never so miserable. Everything began to disintegrate around us. I lost  my confidence in myself. I don't think i have ever completely recovered it

Strangely enough the only people who took an interest in us were Social Security. They were excellent, and I will always be grateful for the sensitive way in which I was processed to receive the dole .It was of course a labour government at that time. I wouldn’t like to have been in the same position with the  parasitic conservative government of John Howard.

It has always been a paradox: there was a marked contrast between the way in which my colleagues and associates at school reacted to our situation and the state. The latter could not have been more supportive, whereas the former vanished into thin air.

I decided to act decisively. (some might say I panicked-sometimes there is not a lot of difference).

I went to Ireland to apply for work in an overseas setting. But everything seemed to conspire against me. I arrived home in Belfast to find that a school in the Canaries had answered my application for Deputy Principal. They had just phoned Belfast one hour before my arrival from Australia , but my dear old Mum had not asked for their number so I could not call them back!

It was just before Easter. They never called back although they said they would. I spent a frantic two weeks waiting for the phone call that never came. I expected the phone to ring any minute for the whole two weeks. It never did! In those days there was no internet so I could not get a contact number for the school. They must have appointed someone else.

I took a further decisive step (Panicked again?) and visited the Yorkshireman  in Portugal.  He  was now the Head of an International school in Portugal. But there were no jobs for me there, and he didn’t know of any. He was in a very bad state himself. One of the many victims of the blowfly.

Back to Australia and I took a further decisive step and immediately vacated the house at Bindley Court and and moved into a very inferior one in Sutherland Street. The rent was a hundred a week. I felt we didn't have enough money to stay in the other house. Well, it was true we didn't have much money all right but looking back that was not a good decision.We should have stayed there in that nice house. The new one was cold, had rats in the back, and mice in the bedrooms. The kids didn’t care but Marie did-she hated the house. Marie is very easygoing and has a forgiving nature. But around this time I noticed that she started to be negative about Australia too. Of all the places she has been to with me, Australia is still the only one to which she said she did not want to stay in.

I applied for jobs all over the country and made nearly a hundred and twenty hand-mailed applications to private schools in Australia. (no computers in those days). There was no internet at this time. There was almost no response at all. I came to dread the little stroll to my post –box at the end of our driveway in Sutherland street to return clutching a handful of ‘Thin’ letters whose message was always the same ‘Thank you for your interest the school,  but...... – the ones who bothered to reply that is.

(V) Kilmore (4) The writing on the wall

Soon after the interviews, smoothoperator  the newly appointed Principal, made a visit to the school form Germany. Things went well. He seemed a personable and competent guy who was quite impressed with the way the school was developing. However, I was left with the impression that he was he did not really have a clear grasp of the political situation at the school. From what he said it seemed like he had no idea of what the blowfly  was really like. Like all of us he saw what he wanted to see because of his own agenda.

After the smoothoperator's return to Hamburg things started to go wrong for me. The first thing concerned scholarships. He  had me left me instructions that many scholarships were to be offered to local students. Some of these were to be at a hundred percent, others at 80 percent, others at 50 percent and so on. I went ahead and advertised in the local community and did preliminary interviews of a number of parents,  and tested their children, and I subsequently made offers to may of them.

I assumed  had consulted with the blowfly about  all of this.  However, once the smoothoperator  was safely back in Hamburg out of sight , the blowfly changed his tune. To me he was saying could not see the sense in giving away one hundred percent scholarships to local students.

I was caught in a bind as I had already offered one hundred percent scholarships to some parents and these children had already taken the tests. As far as I was concerned I could not renege on my commitments.

But this was exactly what the blowfly  asked me to do. In the end I referred the whole matter to the smoothoperator . in Hamburg by fax. The blowfly had to back down, and I think this was the beginning of the end for me with the blowfly. I don't think he ever forgave me for that. He started giving me a hard time about staffing in the coming year in a meeting with my assistant. After several meetings , in one meeting I reached the end of my tether and ‘lost it’ with the blowfly saying words to the effect that  it seemed like he was really doing my job.  My assistant tried to calm me down but I stormed off to see the chairman. I couldn’t find him of course.

In retrospect how naive I was to think that NC would even have supported me in a substantial way with the blowfly.  The chairman calmed me down and and said some soothing things,  but in the end I know that he only did this so that I would stay until smoothoperator had finished his contract in Hamburg.  After that I don't think the Chairman really cared about  what happened to anyone. I think the Chairman  was planning to jump ship as soon as the smoothoperator arrived on deck at school

In June smoothoperator  came over for a quick visit, and we all, including the blowfly went to Auckland for an I.B. conference. As diplomatically as possible, I tried to articulate my concerns to the smoothoperator about the blowfly  and his role in the school . But,by this time the smoothoperator had a stake in not listening to this sort of talk. I could sense this so I had to be sure that I did not sound too negative.

In August, the blowfly and I went to Canberra to sort out some curriculum issues with the ACT authorities.

 The blowfly  was distinctly cool on the trip. I began to get nervous and I could see that the closer it came to the smoothoperator's arrival,  the more difficult the blowfly and his wife,  were going to be with me!

I started to worry and lose sleep. I went to my GP to get some medication for anxiety but I had difficulty in articulating my problem to him as he was also the school doctor (and well known to the blowfly)

It was only around this time that it occurred to me to try get Permanent Residence in Australia.

If I got permanent residence it would mean that that if I lost my job I would be able to look for another one in Australia.

I had started to think that even though neither Maria nor I  really liked Australia, it might be a good place for the children to grow up in.  I could see that it was a young person's country. There were opportunities for young people. It was stable politically. By this time I was 40, and, in my opinion,  that is not a good age to try to establish yourself in another country.

For reasons I shall never fully understand the blowfly actually agreed to sponsor me and, because I was British, it all went through relatively smoothly in a matter of weeks. Maybe the blowfly  saw me continuing in some role in the school after the smoothoperators  arrival. I don’t really know. It was hard to know what the blowfly was thinking.




November 1992. The Bangkok I.B. Coordinator’s conference.

Getting to this conference wasn’t easy. the school bursar was the blowfly's wife, and she  was totally unqualified as the school " Bursar . She was simply there as the boss's  wife. She never liked me-in fact she didn’t seem to like anyone except Rasputin with whom she got on very well. as the arrival  of the the smoothoperator got nearer, she gradually entered into a  campaign to undermine me with her husband,  and started to make life difficult.

I intended to use my American Express card to go to the IB conference in Bangkok as I had no cash. About a week before the trip I realized my card had expired So, perfectly innocently, I asked the bursar  for a few hundred dollars to pay for the hotel. But she  kept putting me off with some excuse. On the final morning she still had no money for me and, ina panic,  I had to go to the local chemist   (who was then the Deputy Chairman of the board) to explain the situation. He generously gave me a thousand dollars out of the till from his Chemist shop!  The chemist   was an exceptional person. He was a Chinese migrant and was a very kind and generous person. He was the type of migrant Australia is lucky to have; hardworking , generous and open-minded.  He deputised for the chairman in his absence.

I think this was another embarrassment that the blowfly never forgave me for. He/she didn't want me to go to Bangkok, I think because they regarded it as waste of money and /or they were planning to 'let me go' when the smoothoperator arrived.  To me,  the writing was on the wall. I was becoming paranoid about the blowfly and his wife. In Bangkok I didn’t sleep properly and stayed up all night composing a fax to the smoothoperator explaining my concerns.


I still had this naive belief that if i was open and told the tsmoothoperator the truth about he blowfly that the smoothoperator would believe me! I wasn't sure, but I hoped  he would believe me! What I didn't take into account sufficiently at the time was that the smoothoperator his own agenda – he was desperate to get back to Australia from Germany and this was the perfect opportunity for him and nothing was going to get in the way of it - certainly not me with my problems. I was only a minor complication as far as he was concerned.


Around this time another incident was a portent of things to come. This was to do with a subscription for an I.B. publication which was sent to me from Sydney when I was acting as Principal. This letter, addressed to the Principal, was opened by the blowfly  and ignored by him. The first I knew of the request for payment of the subscription was a call from  the I.B. man in Sydney who was upset that we hadn't paid our subscription asking me for payment. I said I knew nothing about it. When I investigated I discovered the blowfly  had removed the attached invoice and passed to me only the letter! It was clear to me from this incident that the blowfly  was trying to ‘set me up’ to make me look inefficient with IB office in Sydney. I began to feel very vulnerable.

I started to become more and more  paranoid. My sleep was affected.

Anyway the Bangkok conference went well under the circumstances. I met old friends of mine in Thailand. I remember faxing the smoothoperator  from Bangkok and letting him know my concerns. My faz was pretty emotional I admit. I was indeed becoming paranoid.  It was a gamble to tell the smoothoperator before he came to Melbourne on  his next visit.

The gamble certainly didn’t pay off in the end. The period from October to December of 1992 was very grim indeed. I remember little except the increasing tension and my desire to hold on for as long as I could. To complicate things Mum and Dad were planning a visit that Christmas. When they arrived I was in very poor form but in spite of this we had a pleasant Christmas. Mum and Dad loved it. We took them to Mount disappointment. They saw the kangaroos and I took Dad to play golf . I remember going for a walk with him one afternoon and telling him that I was really in trouble at school and that I was probably not going to survive for much longer. Dad could hardly hide his disappointment because in his own way he was very proud of what I had done and he felt disappointed. dad was very good about this news and he said nothing about it to me directly . I'm glad I told him because it made it easier for them to accept  the shocking events which were to follow.

Employers and interviews

I have two questions for employers...


1. As an applicant is there any objection from any employer to a legal requirement for the employer to supply a detailed profile of all recruiters who evaluate applications and /or interview applicants?

If there is an objection please justify that objection.

2. would any employer object to legislation requiring employers to include such profiles of evaluators in the job advertisement so that applicants have the chance to evaluate the worthiness of recruiters before time is wasted making the application?

If there is an objection please justify it.

Please reply to....outsider1952@gmail.com