Barefoot Winter 2010 issue

Issue six Winter 2010

$7.95

Community Boys and wild play Our girls, our bodies, ourselves Seasonal soul food

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Contents 7 8 10 13 18 21 29 30 38 14 16 32 14 24 36 42 4 6 20 26 34 40

Features

Strengthening communities We have the power to change things Community and mothering Finding your mother-friends Homage to a life in a caravan park Lessons in community Neighbours The rewards of a close community network

Children

Why ethics matters - part 1 Teaching ethics in the government school environment The snap The Mother of all teenagers Surrender Boys, testosterone and wild play My lucky baby A naturopaths’ story of meningococcal Seaonal craft Winter inspirations

People

Our girls, our bodies, ourselves A barefoot event The joys of motoring ...and how to do it more safely Minmia visits Melbourne Listening to an Aboriginal elder

Earth

Kitchen cupboard remedies Garlic Bushfires and other burning relationship issues Regaining our relationship with fire Seasonal table Winter inspired recipes Seasonal soul food Going within

Regulars

Letters Your say From the team Editorial Educating...at home Just like us Reviews Book reviews Ordinary people doing extraordinary things A mum on wheels Seneka’s tales Working as a midwife

Issue six Winter 2010

$7.95

Letters...

Our girls, our bodies, ourselvess Seasonal soul food

Barefoot Magazine is produced by Budding Iris Publications. It seeks to inform, challenge, support, respect and inspire mothers, fathers, grandparents, carers and communities to live more consciously and value the importance of children and family life.

Disclaimer: The comments and opinions expressed in Barefoot are not to be considered those of the editors or publishers, who accept no liability of any nature arising out of, or in connection to, the contents of Barefoot Magazine.

Publishing Team Rachel Watts, Anna Foletta, Charlotte Young Co-Editors Charlotte Young, Rachel Watts Sub-Editor Jenny Chapman Design/Admin Anna Foletta Proofreading Skye Windebank Advertising Olivia Wykes

www.barefootmagazine.com.au Barefoot magazine is designed & produced in Australia.

Barefoot magazine is printed in Australia by Printgraphics Pty Ltd under ISO 14001 Environmental Certification.

It is printed using vegetable based inks onto 100% recycled paper made entirely from post consumer waste.

Copyright of each piece belongs to the author/artist/ photographer; copyright of the magazine belongs to Budding Iris Publications. Republication is permitted on request to author/artist/photographer and the editors.

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Community Boys and wild play

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You mention Rachel’s beautiful daughter passing away in her sleep just before she turned 3. As the mother of a daughter who is 3 and having recently unexpectedly lost our second daughter at 40 weeks, during the last stages of labour, my heart went out to Rachel. I don’t believe anything can completely take away the pain and sadness of the death of a child but true friendship, love and courage to continue living life the best way we know how seems to help ease some of the heart ache.

By coincidence (or not) one of the last articles I read from one of your magazines before I went into labour was one written about a still birth. The midwife’s words were beautiful and I can remember feeling so deeply for the mother and admiring her strength while thinking there could be nothing worse for me or any mother than losing a child.

As the weeks pass since the death of my precious baby (she would have been 8 weeks old today), I am starting to think of my tears as a blessing; as while they always return, at the time they seem to cleanse a little of the hurt...

I’ve seen so many amazing things in nature...more monarch butterflies than ever before-dancing in and around our house; a dandelion floating from a great height past my window-green stem and fragile flower still intact...somehow these gifts from nature help also...

Most of all my daughter Tienne helps, as do other children in our lives....their natural optimism and sunny, playful, enthusiastic outlook on life keeps me smiling and reminds me of how much I still have that is wonderful...And how by ensuring every day I live counts for something...I feel like I am honouring both my daughters.

And speaking of gifts...what a beautiful gift you three are giving so many parents and carers in producing Barefoot Magazine.

I don’t know you but feel I do through your choice of content, photographs and contributors utilised for your magazine and for some reason it seems incredibly important to share my family’s story with people I feel will appreciate it.

I look forward to continuing to read Barefoot Magazine.

Rae Pethica Margaret River, WA

Our star letter wins a set of wooden blocks from Spiral Garden.

I just wanted to write and say how much I have been enjoying your magazine. My partner and I are loving being parents to our sensational 4 month old girl, but felt that we lost touch in those early weeks. After reading the fabulous article about being kind to one another we have been working harder to be kind to each other and in doing so have realised how easy it is to do! Great advice!

Ella Preston Coburg, VIC

Thank you so much. I couldn’t believe how quickly I received my magazine subscription. I was extremely excited but thought I would have to wait until at least the end of the week and amazingly it arrived within a day. I have already carried it around with me to my friends houses and showed them the art and articles. So happy to have found a magazine that speaks so deeply to me. Thanks looking forward to future magazines.

Samantha Sutherland Mount Martha, VIC

Have you taken a photo that is perfect for Barefoot?

Send us your favourite pics (low res first!) and have a chance at winning a $50 voucher from The Fairy Ring, a handmade and custom toy store. www.thefairyring.com.au Email admin@barefootmagazine.com.au

Me, Benji and the Wheelie Bins Playgrounds are fun, but they cause us to forget how much of a playground the whole world is (especially for toddlers). We forget and think we need to go places to play. In truth, the steps at the local supermarket can become an exploration, sprawled out on the pavement. The brick wheelie bin enclosure at the base of the drive can host a raucous session of horsey rides, poking things between bricks and playing with bugs & flowers. This morning, at my (22 month old) sons encouragement, I lay here sprawled accross the mostly empty enclosure, looking up at the sky, my son excitedly making a tunnel out of my bent legs, and joy streaked into my heart.

The list goes on; -my next door neighbours steps; a place to play - the drain across the road; an hour’s entertainment or even better watching at a skate ramp is an excursion of similar newness to something I might have bought my son tickets for.

Not to mention natural spots like an acorn tree, cubby houses and the little local puddle /lake, etc, etc, Sometimes it is hard (and a little counter cultural) to accept your little one’s choice of play location (especially in a busy, functional place). But it is transformational, healing and eye opening.

On behalf of us all our children say...

Welcome, Parents, on your return to the WORLD of PLAY! Tania Beermann Greensborough, VIC

tions still arise – what ‘education’ are we talking about? How do the values (rather than faith) of a given school, private or public, influence our choices? What if an independent (okay, private) school in my area promotes ‘equality’ ‘community’ and ‘connectedness’ more than the local public schools? There are some far more ‘complex’ or personal issues surrounding a parent’s choice of school for their children. And ‘advantages over other children’ in my own decision-making, is not one of them.

Jenny, via email Skipping I’m trying to listen to the sounds of my garden to the exhalation of my plants draw big breath myself and sigh My daughter exclaims ‘We hardly went outside all winter’ Indoors we played games on the rugs with blankets and mugs of warm tea and chocolate.

The roaring we heard went on inside.

The crash and fall of waves was blood in our bodies water in our cells.

Barefoot Winter 2010 Contributors: Writers (in order of appearance): Rachel Watts, Rachel Power, Kylie Cook, Jayne Palmer, Jenny Chapman, Jon O’Donnell Young, Jacqui Fee, Monica Bini, Maria Lerch, Sarah Young, Vivienne Colgrove, Mandy Podhorodecki, Lucy Dawson, Jacqui Fee, Charlotte Young, Megan Ilmer, Sarah Foletta, Sandra Pyke, Seneka Cohen Artwork: Janet Wolf (janetwolf.com.au), Brooke Pyke, Julia Symons, Pru Ervin (pg 3233 & 36-37), Deanne Lawn, Narissa Butler, Tina Pappasavvas Back cover: Juli Ryan (www.juliryansart.com) http://www.blurb.com/my/book/ detail/1287572 Photography:

Now we too are breathing out ready to skip barefoot on the still green grass.

Sarah Miller Carnegie, VIC

Dr Michael Loughnane’s article (Autumn 2010) is thoughtful and introduces us to a few of the fundamental issues surrounding the private vs public school debate. Government funding IS unequal.

Inequality in any society IS unhealthy.

We DO want the best education for our children. For ALL children. But my ques-

Calling all you communicators...

The letter’s page is yours dear reader – so tell us what you’re thinking, feeling, doing! It’s a good way to connect.

Write and go in the running to win this beautiful baby dress made with yak down from Ettitude. www.ettitude.com.au Come on! Don’t just think it, say it!

Send letters to: admin@barefootmagazine.com.au

Front cover: Shellie Drysdale Rachel Watts, Kylie Cook, Jon O’Donnell Young, Charlotte Young, Shellie Drysdale, Barefoot Autumn 2010 Issue: Issue five Autumn 2010 $7.95

Connections Resilience Kitchen remedies Fair trade

Cool days, dark nights, misty mornings…ah, finally winter is here! For the women-folk in my family winter means the click clack of knitting needles and the excitement of planning new jumpers, cardis, scarves and hats. I love the way the twists and knots created while knitting eventually form a beautiful (or not so beautiful!) garment. So it is with our communities…the knots and twists—places we connect with others—mish-mash together to form a fabric. This fabric holds, comforts and warms us as individuals and provides the wider nurturing space for families to grow.

This issue of Barefoot features the role of our community in our lives. There is much talk about the decline in ‘community values’ and the individualistic nature of our world today, but as I look around I also see people creating communities for themselves. Some of these are online, some are centred around children, some are generated by mutual interests, but whatever the catalyst, it seems we humans desire, need and are drawn to creating communities for ourselves. At times of celebration, achievement, tragedy or illness communities really come into their own, but it’s all those more mundane moments of connection—the committee meeting, the conversation across a fence with a neighbour, the tree-planting days, the mothers’ groups, the few moments spent talking to a fellow dog walker—that provide the firm and solid tangles that hold us together in more difficult times. This issue of Barefoot offers much food for thought about the vital role communities play in our development and stories that will inspire you to re-think your own community and the part you play in it.

As always, the words in Barefoot are beautifully supported by the gorgeous creations of all the artists and illustrators who share their work with us so generously—thank you.

So, with the arrival of winter, I wish you tangle-free knitting and many, many more happy tangles in your community.

Rachel, Anna, Charlotte

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Strengthening communities We have the power to change things words Rachel Watts Rachel is a mother, psychologist and coeditor of this amazing magazine.

After a few nights of watching the evening news you can be forgiven for thinking that ‘Greed is good’ and ‘Every man for himself’ are the only frameworks we humans live by. Our society values independence and self-sufficiency highly, and it can sometimes seem that compassion, kindness, empathy, fidelity, generosity, gratitude and the like are relegated to the realm of ‘the ideal’. These values are often seen as luxuries, only available to us when we are at liberty to explore the higher or ‘better’ sides of our human nature.

However, this is far from being the case. In their 2010 book, The Compassionate Instinct1, Keltner, Marsh and Smith bring together compelling new research from the fields of neuroscience, evolutionary biology and psychology. One of the main themes running through their essays is that we are evolved to act compassionately; it is within our nature to behave with kindness towards others.

Put another way, we are ‘hard-wired’ to behave in ways that promote positive community living. This is not to say that competitive, aggressive, exploitative instincts are not part of our human nature.

Clearly they are. But we’ve been missing part of the picture by just focusing on our darker side.

Goodness is part of our nature, and goodness is essential for living in community.

As well as being seen as luxuries, behaviours such as kindness, altruism, compassion etc are often seen as weaknesses. The implication is that they can and must be discarded when something important or life threatening is going on. In fact, the opposite is true. These positive instincts are part of the reason we have survived as a species, and are vitally important in developing healthier, stronger, more tolerant communities.

Take kindness and gratitude as examples.

Research shows that when we are the recipients of an act of kindness or witness a person being kind to another, we are more likely to express the gratitude we feel by doing an act of kindness to another person. Gratitude is more than just a pleasant feeling, it is a strong motivator to pass on and even increase the kindness. I heard an example of this on the radio recently. A woman

called the presenter in tears and said she had been in the supermarket queue earlier in the day when a young woman walked up to her and insisted on paying for her groceries. The woman protested, but the younger woman explained how someone had been kind to her and she wanted to ‘pass it on’. The caller was perplexed, amazed and inspired by the young woman’s kindness and felt compelled to share it with others. As a listener, I was also inspired to be kind to someone else…and I think I was, but I can’t remember that part of this story!

Not only do acts of kindness and generosity benefit communities enormously, they also benefit the individual. Research shows that those who participate in volunteer work in their communities are physically healthier and experience less depression. Also, giving to others in the form of volunteer work or activism assists people in recovering from depression and trauma.

Building healthy, compassionate and tolerant communities is a complex task, but it may seem less daunting if we can look to our own natures and understand that we have the capacity for this within ourselves. An important aspect of building trust and respect in communities is empathy… or being able to look at things from the other person’s perspective. This simple, but often terribly difficult aspect of relationships, is the foundation for the other acts of kindness, generosity and altruism already mentioned. Distancing ourselves from others (that is, not allowing ourselves to see the other’s point of view) is most often a result of fear. Sometimes this fear is justified, but often it is based on prejudice and ignorance.

So, smile at that stranger, let the other driver move in front of you, volunteer in your community, bake a cake for a neighbour, write that letter, give that compliment, foster that child, help others…it’s good for you…and the rest of us.

1 Keltner, D., Marsh, J.,Smith, J.A, The Compassionate Instinct. 2010 WW Norton & Company Ltd, London

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Community and mothering Finding your mother-friends words Rachel Power artwork Janet Wolf Rachel Power is the author of The Divided Heart: Art and Motherhood (Red Dog Books, 2008).

When I had my first baby at twenty eight, I only had one close friend with children. In search of shared experience, I dutifully went along to my council mothers’ group. We sat in a circle and talked about how things were going. I connected with one or two people, but on the whole the conversations were superficial. I wanted to find the women who were confronting the same feeling of psychic shock that I had felt from the moment my son was born: that sense that I would never again be free; that from now on my life would be defined by the overwhelming love—and therefore the overwhelming fear—I felt for my children. This was the kind of conversation I wanted and needed to have; not one dominated by where someone bought their baby shoes (though of course that might have come into it sometimes).

My solution was to start my own playgroup. My first child is now eight, and for the life of me I can’t remember how I got the ball rolling. But my idea was to start a playgroup based around the like-mindedness of the parents, rather than the age of the kids. I booked a room at a nearby neighbourhood house, told the few parents that I had met at parks and playgrounds, and let word of mouth do its trick.

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Over the years the details changed—we shifted from the neighbourhood house to taking turns to host in our own houses. We changed the ‘rules’

from host catering to everyone but the host catering so the job of organising was passed around.

Whatever the arrangements, that playgroup represented a huge sigh of relief for me. At last, people who didn’t look at me like I was a bit unhinged when I suggested this whole parenting thing was actually pretty intense. Mind-blowing, even. It was among these folk that I forged the relationships that sustained me through those early years of raising children.

For me, becoming a mother made me feel profoundly exposed—to myself and to the world. To have babies means facing almost complete loss of control over the terms of your existence. It means hearing yourself use voices that you didn’t know you had. Nothing is more humbling.

To survive this with any humour, you need the company of others in the same state—that strange contradictory state of frustration and expansion that having children induces. You need those friends who will come over and start washing your dishes, and not care that you are still in your dressing gown and can barely string two words together. You need those friends who will just muck in with you and share in those long, long days of raising children without any expectation that you will be entertaining.

Because our playgroup operated by word of

mouth, the parents who came along tended to have similar values and could trust that the kind of advice we gave each other would be sympathetic to our general approach—to parenting and relationships and life—and that our confessions were unlikely to shock anyone!

As writer Anna Maria-Dell’Oso has said to me: ‘Those women form an actual matrix. They are the well from which you drink, you get your support, real, practical and spiritual....The casual passer-by might think they’re just sitting around doing nothing; they are absolutely raising the next generation and keeping this power going.’

Within all of this, our kids played and fought and forged their own deep and complex friendships, as kids do, and that was an equal focus of the playgroup sessions. But it wasn’t the only focus—and to me that’s what made the group such a strong network: that we connected first as people and secondly as parents, which in turn meant that we parented in fairly similar ways.

At one point, the person responsible for linking new parents to playgroups in the area rang me up. (We were officially registered with Playgroup Victoria, partly for the sake of having insurance should anyone break an arm.) She asked if she should list our playgroup as open to newcomers and if she could send someone along.

I found myself presented with a terrible ethical dilemma. I had not set out to make the playgroup ‘exclusive’ in any way. I just wanted it to be a group where everyone felt comfortable being themselves and didn’t have to pretend that they were something they were not.

Really, we were basically a normal bunch of parents.

But, admittedly, parents who shared similar beliefs and attitudes. Up until now I hadn’t had to control this in any way; it had just happened organically.

Her question brought up all those thorny questions about the meaning of shared community: Had I been limited and elitist in setting up the playgroup in the way I had? Was I in fact happy to live in a society full of people with different belief systems, different religions, different habits and choices about the way they lived, as long as I didn’t have to engage with them intimately? Had I given those women in the council mothers’ group enough of a chance?

It was the first time I’d had to define the group to anyone outside of it and I cringed inwardly hearing myself offer a description that made us sound like a bunch of sugar-banning, tree-hugging, arty, leftwing snobs.

‘Right,’ said the playgroup organiser. ‘Sounds like you might be better keeping it a closed shop then.’

‘Well, maybe you could just make people aware of the general spirit of the group and let them decide if they want to be part of it or not,’ I suggested.

I don’t know whether she ever put us on her list—nor how she might have described us, if she did. But the important thing is that eight years on, that playgroup still lives on, under the same name, even though I am no longer part of it and know few of the people now involved. It doesn’t need me anymore, and I suppose I don’t need it in the way I did then. But one of the things I miss most, now that I have two school-aged children, is the intense camaraderie that forms between people navigating the jagged but exhilarating terrain of new parenting.

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Homage to life in a caravan park Lessons in community

words & photos Kylie People often think I’m a lot taller than I am – it must have something to do with my red hair.

It is 1977, I am nine years old, and I am begging my parents, ‘Please can we leave? Can’t we keep going to the next town? I don’t want to stay here, I want to leave. I hate it here. Why don’t we leave?’

After having towed a sixteen foot caravan, my seven year old brother, my one year old sister, the Labrador dog, the stumpy tail cat, my mum’s plants (smuggled past the West Australian border security) and me, it is only now—at forty-two— understandable that my parents were not at all interested in tackling the hundred and fifty kilometre trip to the next town. Instead they booked a couple of nights at the Star Trek Caravan Park—a small park sited on a red sand dune next to the Overseas Telecommunications Station.

We had arrived in Carnarvon. With a population of just over five thousand it didn’t take long for word to get around town that my dad was a jockey. And when he rode a few winners for a trainer who was short of a rider on that first weekend, our fate was sealed—we became permanent tenants of the caravan park. A job was duly created for dad at the Main Roads Department, which the owner of the race horse managed. And so it was that I spent the next seven years of my life in Carnarvon.

As a child I was never particularly appreciative of Carnarvon and at twelve years of age plotted my escape from the town (and my parents), achieving success just before my sixteenth birthday. This is not to say I had a miserable childhood, I just knew from the moment I arrived that I was not going to spend my life there.

Jack and Norma Broadhurst built the park themselves. Jack also ran a heavy machinery business and had landscaped the grounds, and because of the oppressive summer heat he had also built a lovely deep swimming pool. Growing up ‘a permanent’ on a caravan park was not the most socially acceptable currency in town. Jack and Norma however created an open warm-hearted, inclusive environment for all their tenants. Jack affectionately called all the children Gunga Din, which I saw as a vast improvement on the Flea Bag nickname my dad had given me due to my scrawny size at birth. There were three Broadhurst

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children about our age and we formed a sibling kind of friendship. When we weren’t at school together we were in the sand dunes building cubby caves and chucking boondies—clumps of sand, seemingly held together by magic—at each other. We would spend hours in Jack and Norma’s house eating bread, honey and jam—which weren’t on our menu in the caravan—playing pool or watching TV. I had countless sleepovers in their cosy fibro home.

One year Jack spent several months with his heavy machinery out the back of the park, where we were allowed to agist my pony for free. Finally he announced to us all that he had created a BMX track for us kids. He then created a bike shop in what was the front office. He spent hours in there helping us to fix our bikes. Suddenly there were BMX races on the weekends, which Jack would compere. Every kid on the park had a bike or shared a bike and raced. Town kids came to compete; we finally had some street cred. We also had home turf advantage as so many of us spent hours riding that track’s berms, ripples and jumps.

There were statewide championships for which Jack would either organise a bus for us to travel to the competing town or they would all come to the caravan park and stay the weekend. They were heady days of competition and lots of spunky

Jack was a wonderful storyteller; he spent hours telling us yarns, then we sang the rest of the night, while patrolling for red back spiders as the wind blew them down from the rafters. I can honestly say it was one of the highlights of my life on the caravan park.. boys. One year we travelled to Karratha by bus, the axle broke and Jack kept us all entertained while we waited several hours for a replacement.

After a pretty successful trip, at which I achieved the heights of North-West 2nd, we set off back to Carnarvon only to have the bus catch on fire and burn to the ground a couple of hundred kilometres out of Karratha. In the pre mobile phone era it took several hours before a car came our way and another bus could be organised. Jack again kept everything light and entertaining. He had organised for all the bikes and luggage to be pulled from the storage area under the burning bus, so only our valuables inside the bus were burnt. Fortunately Jack had stashed a large bunch of green bananas in the stowaway area and we happily ate these after they had been cooked on the bus fire.

It was a beautiful night; the sky was immense and filled with stars. The burning bus seemed small and insignificant underneath such immensity. Jack pointed out constellations and told yet more tales.

On non-race weekends, Jack and Norma would load up their panel van with about fourteen or fifteen park kids hiding quietly under loads of mattresses and take us to the drive-in where we’d pay for about eight of us. While we all piled out and set up the speakers Jack would take Norma home and then drop her off again to collect us and the panel van at the end of the movie.

family in town so every Christmas Jack would organise a BBQ where we would all take meat and salad. Jack would dress up as Santa and hand presents out to the kids. At New Years we would all congregate for a Hungi that Jack and Norma laid on. Jack would go out fishing on his boat and the fresh catch of the day ended up with fresh veggies buried deep in the earth on coals wrapped in banana leaves for us all to tuck into while we waited to count the New Year in. On reflection, it was very important for me to experience such moments of togetherness and joy.

One year, Jack and Norma decided to do up a big bus and take their three kids off on a trip around Australia. My parents had developed a strong friendship with Jack and Norma and I had helped clean the ablution blocks for several years so we were given the honour of managing the park for the six months they were away. It was really fantastic living in their house and pretending we owned the park. It was the first time my sister had a bed as our van was so small she only had a mattress at the foot of my parent’s bed. However something was missing. I missed my extended family and I always felt like a bit of an interloper living in their house without them. All the life and energy went with them. It was wonderful when they returned, like the heart and soul of the cara-

One year there was a cyclone that hit the town. All of us on the caravan park were going to be safer in the ablution blocks so we took our mattresses, blankets, pillows and food and settled into the women’s ablution block. Not even the men could stand the stench of the men’s block so all of us crammed into the women’s. There were mattresses all over the floor, adults, kids and babies. Jack was a wonderful storyteller; he spent hours telling us yarns, then we sang the rest of the night, while patrolling for red back spiders as the wind blew them down from the rafters. I can honestly say it was one of the highlights of my life on the caravan park. In the morning we woke to a few caravans that had been damaged, some fallen trees and the memories of a shared adventure.

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van park had re-emerged.

Jack worked hard and played hard yet also knew how to keep people in line when he needed to. In a big drinking town this was obviously necessary. Jack himself enjoyed a drink or two or three. However, I am surprised there were so few times I can remember that he needed to sort out the tenants.

I returned to Carnarvon for one year when I was nineteen to work for my mum in her plant nursery…she begged me. By this time we lived on five acres and had built a kit home. Jack and Norma sold the caravan park and bought the property next door. It was almost like being on the caravan park except we didn’t have to crowd into a caravan anymore. After a year I went to University in Perth, lived in a share house, made friends and got into environmental issues. Most days I would spend at the Environment Centre doing odd jobs—I enjoyed having a great sense of purpose and a close knit community which I felt was lacking at university.

Eventually I ended up in the South East Forests of NSW protesting their destruction; this is where I met my partner.

There were three separate communities in operation in the forests, the hardcore activist, the day trippers from the cities and the base camp mainstays. My partner was in the splinter group of hard core campers and this eventually gave me an insight into the world of punk squats in Sydney. It is quite amazing how cohesive a group of people become even if it is viewed as dysfunctional from the outside.

After several months we ended up on a community with a very itinerant population in Northern NSW. It was interesting to observe how different it was to living on a caravan park. There were always arguments about nonpayment of bills, lack of chores being done, inappropriate behavior. The guidelines—unlike the clear list of rules on display at the caravan park page

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office door—were never written down, voiced or agreed upon. The only exceptions were how to use the toilet and that it was a vegan property (both of which were obeyed). The lack of clear guidelines left people feeling upset about anything they perceived as drifting from what they felt was acceptable.

My partner and I had children, moved on, operated businesses and settled down. All through my life I have been attracted to the fringe—living in share houses, communities, owning organic shops, attending alternative schools. Perhaps having grown up in a caravan park has been a

osity of spirit, the nonjudgmental, tolerant space we were provided with, the creation of joyfulness for small beings. I have endeavored, mostly unconsciously, to provide these conditions in the businesses I have run and the schools my sons have attended. I have sent my children to community orientated schools where parents can be heavily involved. I have helped secure funding for classrooms, artists in residence and environmental concerns. However, the thing that gives me the most pleasure is to have been involved in the construction of a giant rope climbing web. When I saw the entire school population swarming over the ropes it filled me with indescribable joy. I imagine that Jack had similar feelings every time we rode the BMX track.

Unlike the whining child, who felt she didn’t belong to Carnarvon, with the lessons I learnt at Star Trek Caravan Park I now feel I can belong anywhere.

contributing factor as it has not been the experience of any of my peers. Some of my younger friends upon hearing of my growing up in a caravan jokingly refer to me as ‘trailer trash’, a popular term from the United States.

And so it was that from what could be perceived as inferior circumstances a wonderful embodiment of community participation was my overriding experience of life on a caravan park. This experience has created one of the overarching frameworks of my life.

I am inspired by Jack and Norma’s gener-

I believe that community exists within me and wherever I go I have the opportunity to involve myself in an existing community structure or create my own. I also believe that having clear guidelines and direction, passion, a willingness to give of one’s self, to be creative, open, honest, firm, accepting of self and others and providing opportunities for joyfulness are essential ingredients to creating effective community.

Jack Broadhurst turned 70 this year and about 60 people, including my Mum, went to Shark Bay to celebrate his life for a few days. I find it fitting that someone who so embodies community spirit had such a communal celebration.

Neighbours The rewards of a close community network words Jayne Palmer photos Rachel Watts

Jayne has been a stay at home mum working part time in the area of disability for the past eleven years. She is married to a wonderful man and together they have two delightful children. They also fostered teenagers prior to having their own children. Jayne has a degree in disability and a post grad in counselling. Her youngest started school this year and she is about to return to study.

The lady next door who we all love to bits is a lively widow in her eighties. She is the most wonderful Oma to the children. She loves them unconditionally and they can always find some sympathy when things at home have become a little strained. She is a wise woman with some great words of wisdom for a sometimes less than perfect mother. The children have learnt to respect an older person and they look out for her when she has been unwell. My husband tells me that she cooks ‘the best’ almond shortbread and she was fantastic to have around when the children were babies.

My Chinese neighbour has just finished giving my daughter lessons on how to make dumplings which also gives my friend the chance to practise her English conversation skills. So, often it is with a Chinese/English dictionary and a piece of paper nearby that my dear friend learns colloquial English from my daughter. This has helped my children learn patience and respect for people who find it hard to converse in English as well as a healthy respect for people from another culture who have very different traditions to their own.

My friends down the road let our family into their own very private life and joy when they adopted a small baby from overseas. The kids experienced the anticipation of seeing the first photos of this tiny baby who lived miles away but who would soon become a very much loved part of our lives.

The kids celebrated with us as we decorated the front doorstep of our friends’ house to welcome the tiny bundle of joy, and they learnt something about the preciousness of life and the love that all children need, to do well in life. Today that little fellow is a bouncy four year old with boundless energy who keeps us all entertained and who will hopefully understand later in life how special he is to all of us.

The old saying, ‘More is caught than taught’, is certainly true in our neighbourhood. The effort required to start and maintain these friendships is insignificant when you understand the rewards of having such a close community network. There are times when, to maintain sanity, we need to set limits around our family’s need for space but this is usually understood and respected.

There have also been times when we have had to say to our children that for their safety we need to monitor their visits to a particular home as we have concerns about what might be going on behind closed doors. This has the upside that the kids learn how to be discerning about healthy relationships with other people and hopefully this is done in a way in which they still maintain respect for the person while not agreeing with some of their behaviour.

It takes a village to raise a child but it won’t work if you never spend time getting to know the people who live there. It is easy to do but it does take some time; because I have lived in the same house for seventeen years I have had the benefit of time. When new neighbours move in I like to take over a cake and introduce myself, for other friends, sharing fish and chips on the front lawn or having coffee around the sand pit works well.

Each year we have an Easter egg hunt in someone’s back yard, we often use special occasions such as birthdays, Chinese New Year, Christmas etc to cement our friendships; it’s just about being creative and being willing to share your time and energy with others. If readers of Barefoot have any other ideas about creating good relationships with neighbours they could write and share them… anyway I had better go—my son tells me there is someone at the door…

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Our girls, our bodies, ourselves A

words Jenny Chapman

Jenny Chapman lives in Eltham with her son Crusoe, cat George, and chicken Jayne.

She constantly endeavours to live simply amidst her chaos, to parent confidently (not perfectly), and to laugh. (Out loud. A lot. Mostly at herself.)

I watched her: beautiful, flawless skin; round hazel eyes; small, pouty, lipsticked mouth; very long, soft hair. She was parading up and down the aisle in a restaurant. High-heeled, black suede knee-high boots; short, swinging, strapless black dress. She paused, and coached on by an older woman (her stepmother) sitting nearby, she put her hands on her hips and swung head and hair around to look back at us. Her expression slightly proud, slightly confused. All eyes were riveted on her. Gorgeous, and I would have described her as sexy as hell, had she not been just a sweet, six year old child.

Instead, I felt ill, at both my own reaction to her, and the realisation that I would continue to sit there and not say a thing.

I was reminded of this interaction with a young relative of mine when I attended Our Girls, Our Bodies, Ourselves in February this year, The hall in Eltham, Melbourne, was overflowing with (mostly) women: chatter, food, drink…we were together for an evening of words and discussion on the culture that our daughters and sons live in and learn in.

We gathered to hear three speakers on the subject; three passionate women who are committed to changing the current toxic landscape in which children grow their sense of self. The focus was on the early sexualisation of girls. We were exhorted to allow children their time to be just children. We were also entreated to nurture the value, the preciousness of ourselves as women, from childhood onwards. The following is my own recollection of that powerful evening.

Outrage—how we undermine our children Melinda Tankard-Reist and Julie Gale presented a bleak picture. They posed the question: how are we to raise healthy, resilient children when they are growing up in the shadow of a landscape which undermines their identity at every turn?

Girls grow up thinking that all they have to offer is their sexuality, and self-hatred is seen as a teenage rite-of-passage. How can we not see that this clouds their self-identity and imposes itself on their life choices?

Illustrated by a plethora of distressing images tak-

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event

en from everyday advertising and photos of clothing and toys currently available in stores, Melinda and Julie both took us on an emotional journey of what our daughters (and sons) are confronted with on a daily basis. Children’s underwear and other clothing printed with text or images that plainly (to us) had a sexual meaning. Child models in advertising, clearly adultified and set in seductive poses.

Push-up bras available in major department stores for tweens (Tweens—that’s nine to twelve year olds!). Available online, many of us learned, are pole-dancing kits and a ‘Miss Bimbo’ game aimed at young girls. For boys, there is a Japanese computer game, the aim of which is to rape or gang rape as many women and girls as possible.

This game is no longer available in Australia as a result of complaints by Melinda Tankard-Reist and others. Also, try looking for toys directed at boys age five and up in which the figurines are NOT printed with aggressive or angry facial or postural expressions.

I was not the only one in the room who had never heard the term ‘f**kbuddies’ in relation to teen practices. We were also given a spirited chat about the normalisation of botox treatments and full-body waxing, amongst teen girls. The message from Melinda and Julie came home strongly.

Melinda presented some research. One study revealed that watching just ten minutes of music videos (the type we might see on television on a Saturday morning) could negatively affect girls’ self-esteem. After the seminar Sue, a fellow attendee, related to me a story of her friend’s daughter. This four year old girl once watched about five minutes of Saturday morning music clips. From that moment her wonderful, childish, creative, spontaneous forms of dance changed to gyrating, grinding, stunted movements. Such can be the impact of the music video industry.

There were just too many examples, presented by both Melinda and Julie, to share here. But the message was that mainstream media (including advertising), and the society that allows its current practices, are in general, undermining our children, and that keeping a critical eye on what our children, and we ourselves, are exposed to is vital.

We can take action. Corporations take publicity very seriously. See the end of this article for places to visit for information.

this camp too, although we didn’t get to hear exactly what they do as Jane didn’t know either—this is men’s business.

Moonsong is the website of midwife and workshop facilitator Jane Hardwick-Collins. www.moonsong.com.au

Lastly…

Books:

Both Melinda and Julie ended their talks by encouraging us to make changes in our home, to make changes in our community, and to process courageously, these issues within ourselves.

We had question/discussion time. There were many questions raised. Not all were easily answered. The main frustration seemed to be about how we got to a place where we are not okay with the way we are, and where we are constantly defining ourselves by things external? A thought-provoking issue. Other questions focused on what men can do, as partners, as fathers; and how does sex education in schools help or hinder us.

Maggie Hamilton, What’s Happening to our

Action

Woman: A guide for girls approaching men-

Precious bodies, healthy identities Jane Hardwicke-Collings came at the problem from a more ‘internal’ perspective. Jane expressed that teaching girls to honour their bodies as sacred participants in the cycles of life, would equip them with a strong sense of self.

She encouraged us to nurture young girls to connect with their bodies, and themselves, through knowledge; and to honour themselves in the rites of passage that they face. In knowing themselves, they can care for themselves with compassion and wisdom, and tap into an internal source of identity. Reclaiming our girls’ childhoods, reclaiming rites of passage helps to reconnect them with their bodies; stripping the shame and sense of objectification away, and replacing it with value, self-love, and a sense of belonging.

Jane described the annual camps she hosts for girls who have experienced menarche that year. They come together and learn about their cycles, and experience an honouring rite of passage. Boys who have turned thirteen are a part of

Learn/Join/Act/Follow: ‘Collective Shout is a new [Australian] grassroots campaigns movement mobilising and equipping individuals and groups to target corporations, advertisers, marketers and media which objectify women and sexualise girls to sell products and services.’ www.collectiveshout. org Melinda Tankard Reist’s website (including her blog). Commentary on issues important to women and girls. www. melindatankardreist.com.au ‘Kids Free 2B Kids is a group of Australians concerned about the increasing sexualisation of kids in the media, advertising, and clothing industries.’

Girls? 2009, Penguin/Viking Maggie Hamilton, What’s Happening to our Boys? Penguin/Viking (due out June 2010) Mary Pipher, Reviving Ophelia, 1995, Penguin Jane Hardwicke-Collings, Thirteen Moons and Spinning Wheels: How to chart your menstrual cycle. Handbook and Journal. Available through her website www.moonsong.com.au Jane Hardwicke-Collings, Becoming a struation. Available through her website www. moonsong.com.au Danielle Miller, The Butterfly Effect: A positive, new approach to raising happy, confident teen girls, 2009, Random House Melinda Tankard-Reist (ed), Getting Real: Challenging the sexualisation of girls, 2009, Spinifex Press

There are many other resources to read and ways of taking action. For more information see the above websites, and go to their resources and links pages.

For a podcast of the event, please visit barefootmagazine.blogspot.com.au or

www.kf2bk.com

Graham’s Boiled Fruit Cake

1 tablespoon Parisian Browning

Variations:-

(Served on the night)

1 cup self raising flour

1. Always keep 375 g mixed dried fruit the same, but total fruit content can be increased to 600 g, also consider varying fruit type by substituting some of the sultanas with dried apricots, small pineapple pieces, quartered dates, raisins, be creative.

1 cup plain flour Basic recipe:-

3 eggs (60 g) well beaten before adding

In a large saucepan place & mix – 2 cups Transfer to greased & papered (or floured) milk loaf pan 375 g mixed dried fruit 175 g sultanas 125 g butter 175 g sugar Bring ingredients to boil, then add – 1 teaspoon baking powder Boil mixture gently for one minute, then allow to cool (at least 1 hour) Add to mixture 1 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg

Bake in pre-heated oven at 180°C for 105 minutes. Near end time check core of cake with skewer which should withdraw clean, cooking then finished, if not clean try again in 5 minutes. Our oven is electric fan forced so timing may need adjustment.

This cake will keep for a long time if wrapped in aluminium foil. If possible bake a week ahead of time required to allow flavour development.

Enjoy!

2. Likewise with the spices, keep total spice content at 2 teaspoons, but vary it with ginger, mixed spice or whatever takes your fancy.

Graham Watts made the fruit cakes for the event, and they were amazing, so we thought we’d share his recipe with you - Thanks Graham!

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The joys of motoring ...and how to do it more safely words and photo Jon O’Donnell-Young Jonathan O’DonnellYoung learnt to drive in London and has since held 4 driving licenses (including a national motorsports license) from three continents. He is passionate about road safety and believes that this is much more than a revenue raising opportunity for the state government.

Surprised already? Who would have thought you would be reading about cars in a magazine such as Barefoot? Well read on and be enlightened.

Let’s face it, cars are a fact of life, especially in Australia where public transport is so woeful…but that’s another column for the future.

This article is about safe, efficient and smooth defensive driving that uses less fuel, keeps our families safer and makes our roads more courteous and less harried places.

Let’s start with the obvious; as late as you are on the school run or going to work it’s not a bloody race. Why is it that we are willing to compromise the safety of ourselves, our families and other road users for the sake of a few minutes here or there? My experience suggests it is a case of familiarity breeding contempt—after driving for a number of years, driving becomes an unconscious act that does not require active concentration.

Couple this with a modern pace of life that means we always seem to be rushing everywhere and you have a recipe for potential disaster.

A few words on how to get there. The keyword is smooth and smooth comes from using your eyes—you need to be looking much further ahead than you are probably used to doing and then driving according to what you see. If you do this you will find you are accelerating less and most importantly braking less. Don’t take my word for it...try it! You will also find that it is impossible to look ahead if you are only a car distance (or shorter!) from the car in front, so stop tail-gating (the only thing that makes me seriously, if only momentarily, consider an act of road rage) and drop back to enjoy the personal piece of road space that is now your safety zone.

A word on tyre pressures, in actual fact three words—check them regularly! Set them to the manufacturer’s maximum recommendation and you will enjoy improved fuel economy and shorter emergency braking distances. This could save your life—or an errant pedestrian’s—one day.

The main benefits of your new driving philosophy will be lowered fuel consumption, survival and less incidence of car sickness. You will also be setting a Simply getting in the right frame of mind as wonderful example for your children that they will you get behind the wheel is the most important carry with them when they eventually get on the thing you can do before you pull away. The right roads themselves. The best way to learn how to do frame of mind is one of focus and concentration.

Contrary to so much of the evidence on our roads, this is to get some professional tuition. From my the D on the gearshift does not stand for ‘Dream’. own experience I can highly recommend Jim Murcott’s driving courses. These courses, or similar, Take a moment to think about what you are actuwould be mandatory for all drivers if those in conally doing when you drive. You are about to take trol of our roads actually wanted to do something control of a couple of tons of metal, burn some active about road safety. of the earth’s valuable resources, and transport Alright, off you go...and take care out there. precious cargo (yourself and your children) to get where you are going. page

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Kitchen cupboard remedies Garlic words Jacqui Fee Jacqui Fee is a Naturopath and Herbalist in Melbourne CBD and Eltham. One of her greatest clinical rewards is in helping individuals and couples to prepare for, conceive and produce happy, healthy children. In addition, she has a great passion for teaching and mentoring naturopathic students, and is currently writing a professional course in fertility.

Stocked with a few simple ingredients, the winter kitchen provides ample resources for supporting you and your family through many of the minor ailments that the season may bring. The simplicity of simmering grated ginger tea, the classics of raw honey and lemon, or, for the adventurous, combine those three with a little chilli and garlic to really kick your cold!

It is with relish that I hoard these little treasures, and whip them out at the first sign of a simple cold or flu. They can make a profound impact on how someone feels and the state of their health troubles, not to mention the lovely opportunity they give to nurture and comfort loved ones.

What I also love about these kitchen cupboard remedies is that, specifically for simple ailments, they can demystify medicine and remind us that our health is very often in our own hands, quite literally...

Health does not need to be bought, bottled or sold...but continuously sought.

This remedy is for grown-ups and kids that are familiar and tolerant of strong foods like garlic.

This is one of the favourite items in my cupboard; it is a delicious salad dressing and you only need a small amount. A dessert spoon over your salad when used in addition to a little olive oil creates a daily immune boost over winter. For those who love, are tolerant of and familiar with garlic, a teaspoon-full of this liquid, can be consumed neat at the onset of a cold or flu to help reduce symptoms fast. The garlic and honey act as a preservative, so it will tend to keep well for the whole winter season if made as instructed, and stored in an airtight jar in the cupboard.

www.melbournenaturopath.com.au

Dressing) Garlic Oxymel (Salad Ingredients

ly organic)

200g of garlic (preferab 1 tsp caraway seeds

1 tsp fennel seeds er vinegar (enough Good quality apple cid rlic—about 1 litre) to cover 60% of the ga cover 40% of Raw honey (enough to garlic—about 700ml) Method

and place in an Peel and crush the garlic vinegar and add air tight jar. Gently heat 0 minutes. Remove seeds, simmering for 5-1 honey, then pour the from heat and add the . Let it rest and use mixture over the garlic ntly before each use, after 1 week. Shake ge as instructed above. and use the liquid only,

dge Eleanor Tan and I would like to acknowle ipe was adapted Jenny Adams, as the rec book ‘Herbal Medifrom their classes and cine Manufacturing’. general health interest This information is for en as medical advice. and should not be tak

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Why ethics matter - part 1 Teaching ethics in the government school environment

words Monica Bini Monica Bini is Curriculum Manager

Isabella has just arrived at school and notices her friend Kara has a new haircut in the latest style.

Isabella does not like it at all.

‘What do you think Izzy?’ Kara asks.

(Humanities) at the

A teacher, Mr. Dario, interrupts them.

Victorian Curriculum

‘Time to move off to assembly girls.’

and Assessment Authority. Her responsibilities including managing the VCE Philosophy curriculum.

Prior to joining the VCAA she taught in secondary schools for 12 years, in the areas of philosophy and commerce.

‘What do you think of my haircut, sir?’ Kara asks him.

Isabella thinks Mr Dario looks doubtful, but he smiles and says, ‘It’s great, Kara.’

Isabella puts on a smile, ’Yes, it’s great, Kaz’.

In assembly there is a guest speaker from Doctors without Borders. The principal makes a speech asking the students to support fundraising for this cause.

Isabella shuffles off to class. First up the teacher asks about the students’ weekends. One boy helped feed the monkeys live mealworms at the zoo. He thought it was pretty cool. ‘Yeah, but would you feed live goats to the lions?’ asks Isabella. A lively discussion follows. The teacher guides it, asking questions such as ‘Why did you say that?’, ’How is that different to what was said earlier?’ and ’What follows from that?’

Just before home time, Isabella has a maths test. The students are allowed to have their bags next to them and Isabella can see some worked problems poking out of her notebook. She stares, wondering what to do. Just then, the teacher notices and gives her a detention for cheating.

students to act in a particular way, but rather with fostering a kind of critical understanding that can inform student choice. Its inclusion is justified on the grounds that increasingly workplaces are incorporating an ethics focus (e.g. bioethics) and recruiters are increasingly demanding ‘fit’ with the values of an organisation. Further, one important way that ethics is strengthened and developed in a pluralistic democratic society is through dialogue. Ethics can be contentious and education provides students with debate and investigation in a (hopefully) safe community, creating a bridge to an active and informed life in the broader adult community.

The study of ethics can be summarised as a study of: Ethical concepts (for example, ‘right’, ‘wrong’) and the nature of the moral domain (for example, are issues concerning the treatment of animals or the environment moral issues?) Ethical principles (such as ‘one should always act to maximise the happiness of the greatest number’). Values (for example, regard for the truth).

Virtues (that is, character traits that are socially valued, such as fair-mindedness ). How to go about making moral decisions (for example, is it a matter of emotion, reason or both or...?)

Morality is concerned with practical judgment and ethics is concerned with the principles (and their supporting theories) that may inform that judgment. So there may be a practical moral judgment to be made in deciding whether to look after a sick parent or move interstate for a dream job and particular conceptions of or beliefs about duty and obligation may inform this choice.

Where is the education in ethics taking place in these four experiences? Perhaps in all four. This will depend on the details of each scenario and Did Isabella deserve a detention? The terrain of on Isabella herself. This will become clearer as we moral judgment is tricky. It is not possible to simconsider current ethics education in government ply consult a rule book for every situation, so it is schools. important that students undertake a critical study For many years, government school curriculum of ethics, including times when particular values or has set out what students should know and be virtues may not apply. Should regard for truth apable to do. More recently, a third element has been explicitly included. This is concerned with student ‘being’.

One aspect of ‘being’ is related to ethics. How we treat one another matters. The inclusion of ethics in curriculum is not concerned with forcing page

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ply in every situation? Isabella lied to Kara. Does that matter?

research into an ethical theory can also complement dialogue.

In 2005 the Federal Government released the National Framework for Values Education in Australian Schools (http://www.curriculum.edu. au/values/). It includes practical guidance for implementing values education, together with an underlying vision and eight guiding principles.

It also includes the Nine values for Australian Schooling, which are: Care and compassion, Doing your best, Fair go, Freedom, Honesty and trustworthiness, Integrity, Respect, Responsibility, Understanding, Tolerance and inclusion.

Currently, the presence of ethics in State and Territory curricula varies widely. Most states offer a senior (year 11 and 12) philosophy course, which generally includes ethics. Aspects of ethics may be found in other senior courses such as business ethics in Business Management. The K-10 curriculum documents may have aspects of ethics in some disciplines, particularly Health and Wellbeing, or in some more generic areas such as Interpersonal development in Victoria, the Essential Learning Achievement ‘Acting with integrity and regard for others’ in the ACT and the values clusters in the W.A. Curriculum Framework. None have a comprehensive ethics curriculum as yet.

The Federal Government allocated $29 million to values education. Schools undertook projects , research was done and resources developed.

It was found that best practice values education incorporated a whole school approach, that is, values were not only explicitly taught, but were part of the broader school culture. So at Isabella’s school the guest speaker at assembly might be a deliberate choice in education in care and compassion. Perhaps the school charter includes care and compassion. Best practice also aims for an alignment between what is espoused and what is actually done both in and out of the classroom.

Thus implicit education may have occurred for Isabella in the school yard when Kara was complimented on her haircut.

Learning about ethics could involve being given a definition of ‘right’ and copying it down. This approach is unlikely to prepare students for the messy nature of everyday living. The ‘community of inquiry’ methodology used in some schools across Australia and internationally, attempts to meet this challenge. This method has at its heart inter-student dialogue, guided by the teacher.

Students practise reasoning in a student community governed by norms that create a safe place for intellectual risks. The discussion that Isabella’s class had on the zoo animals could have been a community of inquiry.

The Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority (ACARA), is the body responsible for the Australian Curriculum currently being drafted in History, English, Mathematics and Science. General capabilities have also been identified and one of these is Ethical Behaviour. It is as yet uncertain how comprehensively ethics will be covered in these four learning areas or in the whole curriculum.

In sum, education in ethics happens implicitly and explicitly to varying degrees in Australian government schools. Students like Isabella will develop in different ways, depending on their life experiences, sense of self in the world and cognitive capacities. Having an education in ethics and critical thinking will assist them to maximise their ability to live up to their full potential as individuals and members of the wider society. You might like to enquire more about how ethics are taught in your child’s school.

At the end of a long day at school, Isabella goes home. But what happens there will be the subject of Part 2…available in the next edition of Barefoot.

This method might be complemented by other strategies such as service learning. Perhaps in actually doing the fundraising for Doctors without Borders, Isabella might further develop her sense of care and compassion. More traditional strategies such as an assignment on an ethical issue or

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At home....‘Just like us’ words & image Maria Lerch Maria Lerch is mother to two boys, aged ten and six.and eleven They seven. live in rural live They Victoria. in rural Victoria.

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Cooler weather, hot soups, fires, stories and sitting surrounded by our ‘special people’. You may wonder about our special people, being homeschoolers and how we manage to create a community around us. Not always without challenges as we wander the rural towns, seemingly with a flashing warning sign of being ‘definitely different’ stuck to our homeschooling heads. However, many wonderful opportunities, meetings and community experiences also occur thanks to our sign.

had some fun with the year of the potato as one mum had us explore 101 ways (well nearly) to use a potato. Let me explain here that I don’t just mean potato printing…but things like balancing a potato on the back of your neck or on your eye, going over obstacles and having another person guide you along. Try that with a straight face! We laughed a lot at our potato mash. Last year we worked with the theme ‘natural fibres’, exploring the various fibres and their uses (felting, knitting, weaving).

Each homeschooling family goes about creating their community in individual ways. For us, we are lucky to have a lot of support from our family as well as friends. And we have a little haven when we meet with our homeschooling group.

We belong to many groups through the boys’ activities and yet, the homeschooling group is special because they are ‘just like us’. Is that community? Gathering with people on a similar wavelength? I think so—for us it is—being on the same frequency for the afternoon. We share different frequencies with different groups and this creates tiny communities within our larger one.

Our outdoor adventures have been to zoos, gardens, pools, rivers, museums, Ned Kelly country and walks in beautiful and interesting places.

So let me introduce you to the workings of our ‘just like us’ homeschooling group. They are like us because of the fact that we have in common homeschooling all, or some, of our children.

How we each homeschool varies greatly, yet we often share ideas and ‘philosophy’ together and I love the respect (and at times the healthy frustration) we have for each other. Every fortnight we come together alternating between a venue activity and an outdoor adventure.

For a venue we use a hall or each others’ houses. There, we generally make something with our artistic skills, with one person having the knowing or the wish to make a particular something. It’s fun for all of us, children and adults alike. Something out of felt, mosaics, clay, papier maché etc. And we have made things like cheese, cards, lanterns, treasure boxes and coloured eggs. As a guide we have sometimes used the international theme of the year. We

This year we plan to do some things that are more ‘do-able’ with other people, i.e. in a group, like singing and baking for the elderly, performing a play and celebrating the seasons together.

When we meet, everyone brings their own lunch.

Meeting at 11am we spend most of the afternoon together. We are an intimate group because of our size (six regular families), but we’re growing in numbers this year. Some families live one hour apart, so we all have to travel at some stage.

Overall we come equipped with our challenging bits as every group does…and we love and enjoy it because, hey, ‘they are just like us’!

This is what my two sons have to tell about our special little group: Jai (seven years old)—‘Well I’m practising how to finger knit, so I was thinking I could show my friends at homeschooling how to do it and Mum can show her friends! We learn other things from each other too. Like we talk about what we might do together when we’re older.’

Kian (eleven years old)—‘We all homeschool but everyone knows different things…so we can learn from each other…so someone knows how to make say a Jacob’s ladder, so we all learn from them, or coming together to do woodwork. We also learn how to talk about stuff with each other and that’s nice!’

The Mother of all teenagers words SarahYoung artwork Brooke Pyke Sarah Young has two daughters and loves living in inner city Melbourne. She is a freelance arts educator and works across many settings. Her work includes classes in dance and drama with young children and lecturing in the arts education at university.

This tale begins with me, as a teenager in a market somewhere in London where I was born and raised, with my mother and my oldest sister. We were looking for clothes for me, who lived in jeans and tee shirts, which frustrated my mum no end. I must have said something, or I gave a look, and my mum stood still, in the middle of the busy market and slapped me across the face with her bare hand. I stood there shocked, hurt, and humiliated but the shopping expedition went on as if nothing had happened and nobody seemed to notice.

There are times in my life I have thought of this scenario and times in my life I have judged my mother for this. But, as I sit here, myself a mother of a teenager, I understand and am reluctant to say, envy her actions. Don’t get me wrong I am not condoning slapping children, or youth as they are now known. I am a parent who firmly believes that no physical or emotional violence is acceptable. However, I do understand that there were no words that could have described the emotions my mum was feeling. Sometimes there are just no words—you just snap.

This snap does not occur in this way with any other relationship I have in my life, only with my teenager and thankfully only very rarely. However, it does occur and it makes me feel many things.

After the snap I feel weak, overbearing, controlling and just a plain old bully and yet at the time I can’t seem to distance myself from the intense twisted feeling that makes me want to act out like a toddler. What is going on in the mother-daughter relationship (and possibly parent-child relationship but I only have daughters) that can bring up a side of you that is unrecognisable?

Some may say it is shocking to think such things but if we are honest, don’t we all sometimes just snap and want to slap? Or do we spend so much

time keeping up the appearance of the all-giving, all-knowing and all-caring stereotype that we don’t allow ourselves to try and work out why sometimes something deep inside rears its ugly head? I want to make it clear I have never acted on my feelings but the thought crosses my mind— just crosses.

We all know the bigger thing to do in a situation like this is to walk away but we also know that sometimes, as a parent of a teenager, you just want to slap them. I know it is not very Zen but parenting and Zen do not necessarily go hand in hand. For other people I can be tolerant, calm, understanding, but sometimes, and I mean just sometimes, I covet my mother’s slap.

My daughter is a wonderful individual and I enjoy her creative mind, full emotions, and fantastic humour, but this all goes out the window when the snap is happening. What is at the core of the snap I ask myself? Maybe it has something to do with the wonderful sense of hope and possibility that the teenager brings with them. As a parent, you are often trying to get things done, or managing other people to get things done, and hope and possibilities can just get in the way. Of course we all try to live in the moment, blah, blah, blah, but the snap does something else to the parent, something deep inside.

Maybe though, we could stop seeing their endless imaginings of the future as a mirror to our own disappointments, and rather see them as a reason to start imagining again. Perhaps if we listen to their hopes and dreams some of their enthusiasm may rub off on us. Or what if, with all their knowit-all ways, they actually have something to teach us?

Okay, what was I thinking? I have to go and help organise a Year 11’s homework schedule. page

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Winter products we love..

Woolerina Woolerina’s 100% pure Australian Merino garments are natural, sustainable & biodegradable & bring with them the best qualities of merino wool making them the ideal choice for your little ones (and you!), everyday.

Woolerina garments breathe, enabling children & babies to better regulate their own body temperature. Wicking capabilities enable moisture to be drawn away from the skin into the atmosphere, keeping skin dry, preventing dampness & a chill effect which occurs with synthetic fibres. Combined with wool’s anti-microbial properties, this helps to reduce skin allergies & sickness in children & babies. Wool is also famous for its low odour retention & reduced “soiling” properties.

Woolerina garments also come with an in-built safety aspect as they are naturally anti-static, acid-resistant & fire retardant.

BodyMate by Woolerina features a children’s range of tops is sizes 2-8 while BabyMate by Woolerina includes tops, bottoms & wraps in sizes 000-1. www.woolerina.com.au t: (02)6851 2100 e: office@woolerina. com.au PO Box 925 Forbes NSW 2871

Tetra Tea Tree Natural Mattresses (est. 1949) Over 1 million Australian mums and bubs have slept safely on Tetra. The mattresses are comfortable, firm, and proven to promote airflow and, to accumulate less CO2 than foam.

Tetra mattresses are filled with organic Tea Tree flakes that are naturally anti-bacterial, hypoallergenic and insulating. This filling gives zero exposure to Newborn of petro-chemicals (foam) or VOC’s (latex stabilisers).

The Tea Tree filling is created from a special native Tea Tree bark.

Collecting the bark makes the tree healthier, promoting oxygen production and making it re-harvestable. The filling-creation process uses renewable energies and is chemical-free. As Tetra Tea Tree flakes are grown locally and made locally the overall carbon footprint of Tetra mattresses is relatively minimal.

Every Tetra Tea Tree mattress is hand-filled and hand-made with love in Australia under a transparent, fair-work environment.

Tetra mattresses are genuinely natural Australian infant Bedding.

Find “Tetra Tea Tree” on Facebook.

Blessed Earth The genuinely healthy mattress.

The humble mattress has come a long way in the past 100 years, however most of the progress that has taken place has been by engineers, to the detriment of our health and wellbeing.

Queen B Candles Queen B candles are individually hand-made in Australia from 100% pure Australian beeswax, passion, cotton wick and integrity.

They contain no paraffin, soy or palm wax or any other toxic ingredients... so there are no toxic emissions when they are burning.

Metal springs that create electro-magnetic fields; vulcanised latex foams; sanitisers and glues that would kill a cockroach… are all things the bedding industry have developed to help us sleep better.

Add a little sweetness and light to your home with pure beeswax candles from Queen B. You are safe in the knowledge it was made, by hand, from the finest, natural ingredients.

The Blessed Earth organic wool mattress is wonderfully, naturally comfortable, providing relief for pressure points and support where you need it.

Choose from Queen B’s extensive range or order one of their bespoke design candles for your child’s birthday, baptism or naming day.

It breathes like no other and keeps you dry at night, so it is ideal for those with allergies, skin conditions or any illness.

Children love them – they are the perfect choice for any child!!! We have glowing testimonials from delighted parents all over Australia (Please see website).

Every Queen B candle is made with care for you and your environment.

Queen B queenb@queenb.com.au

Blessed Earth have a store in Maleny, Queensland and deliver Australia-wide. www.blessedearth.com.au PH:(07)54943389

Ph: +61 2 9905 1188 Fax: +61 2 9475 0427 www.queenb.com.au

Please note that while Barefoot endorses the above products, our product reviews are paid advertorial..

If you would like the opportunity to share your product with our readers, please email us for more details at advertise@barefootmagazine.com.au page

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Issue two

Winter

2009

$5.95

Issue three Spring 2009 $5.95

Issue four Summer 2009 $5.95

Issue

five Autu mn 201 0 $7.9 5

Family Life in Australia Rituals Home death Eco Psychology hood

er Moth g Art & therin f Mo Manne lue o by Anne The va re ate ca Clim food Slow

The wisdom of our han ds Peaceful fam ilies Conne The ‘m’ wo rd ctions Resilie nce Raw food Kitche n rem edies Fair tr ade

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Fatherin porary Contem g Brats?

Breedin ply Living Sim t of... d the ar Zen an

...need an entire weekend away?

Why not subscribe to barefoot for yourself or a loved one?

If you subscribe during June/July, you go into the draw to win two nights accomodation for two in either a self contained cottage or a deluxe tipee at Huon Bush Retreats in Tasmania, valued at $550.

Located in an extensive private habitat reserve, Huon Bush Retreats is an award winning, carbon neutral retreat offering guests a choice of accomodation against an inspiring backdrop of Tasmanian native forest. With easy access to 5km of interpreted walking tracks through rainforest, to a hidden waterfall or a mountaintop, you will not miss internet or television here.

Cabins are comfortably catered for with gas cooking facilities, fresh rainwater, solar powered lights, an eco-friendly composting toilet, a cosy wood heater and a private outdoor bath.

Tipees are hidden away amongst tall stringy-bark trees and silver wattles, they have a private deck with outdoor seating, a comfortable queen bed that folds away into a couch, and a cosy wood-heater. It is a minute’s walk from shared facilities including a large undercover kitchen area with gas cooking and an outdoor fire, also, a modern shower block with instant gas hot water and eco-friendly composting toilets. A large, outdoor bath tucked into the forest nearby is available on a booking system.

Note: Winner will need to make their own travel arrangements.

Not available on public holidays or long weekends.

Offer expires December 1st, 2010.

For more information about Huon Bush Retreats, go to www.huonbushretreats.com Subscribe at www.barefootmagazine.com.au or send us your postal details plus payment ($30) to: Barefoot Magazine, c/o Budding Iris Publications, PO Box 401, Eltham VIC 3095 You just need to email and tell us in 25 words or less the most interesting thing you’ve learnt this year...

If you’re already a subscriber, why not subscribe for a friend?

We’ll enter you in the draw, and your friend will love you forever (or at least every season)!

winner...

Our Autumn subscription prize, an overnight stay for two in a luxury tipi at ‘Dja WIlliam’ in Daylesford, Victoria was won by Pat from Northcote, VIC. www.gentleearthwalking.com.au

Bushfires and other burning relationship issues Regaining our relationship with fire

words Vivienne Colegrove artwork Julia Symons Vivienne Colegrove is a relationship counsellor and family therapist living and working in Eltham, Victoria.

She is passionate about deepening her relationships with ‘all that is’ and providing ritual and therapeutic structures that assist others to do the same.

She can be contacted on 03 9431 4689 or at vivienne.colegrove@ pb.ozemail.com.au

Like many of us who love life in the beautiful Australian bush, last year’s fires came too close for comfort to our tree-canopied Eltham suburb.

It has been a year of bombardment—the media, stories from friends, acquaintances and strangers about trauma, grief and tragedy—confronting me over and over again with the devastating impact of the fires on people’s wellbeing. In our communityminded and creative part of Melbourne, groups have come together to mourn and to heal. Armies of professionals and volunteers are poised to offer practical support, counselling and more. Much advice and education has been provided to our community about trauma, its effects on individuals and relationships, what we might experience, what support we may need in order to recover, and so on. Together we have reflected on the impact on us as individuals, as families, and as a community.

I convinced myself that I was relatively unaffected—after all, my partner Bronte and I, through good luck rather than good management, were out of the country on Black Saturday, and returned home to find our house and property completely undamaged. We set ourselves to the task of supporting those who had been more directly affected, and getting our house and garden better prepared for future onslaughts. It wasn’t until this summer, when we were preparing to go camping at Cape Conran National Park, that I began to notice that I was behaving in ways I had not previously before behaved. Day after day, before our holiday, I caught myself checking anxiously and repeatedly how close the bushfires had gone, and were predicted to go, to our holiday spot. Once we settled in to our campsite, I found that I was reluctant to get too close to a campfire, and that I became more relaxed when our neighbours had extinguished their fire for the night. One evening, when Bronte lit a fire for us, the wind pushed and pulled the flames quickly and suddenly we found ourselves putting out the fire and turning in early.

It occurred to me that although my relationships with family and friends had emerged unscathed, my relationship with fire (and with the north wind!) had changed substantially after Black Saturday.

With this realisation came some grief. I began to

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think about my previous relationship with fire— fond memories of comfort and warmth from a winter’s fire in the hearth, staring into the leaping flames and marvelling at the beauty of glowing embers, fantasiszing that I could see wonderful other-worldly creatures inside. I recalled dancing with fire as a child long ago, imagining myself able to move and grow/shrink, glow and spark as fire does, glorying in the sensual power of heat and movement. I found myself recoiling from this memory, reluctant to reconnect to a time when I would have given myself over to fire in this way. I wondered if I would ever feel that way about fire again. Like mourning a lover’s betrayal, I cried for the loss of a relationship that may be irretrievable.

Shortly after the 2009 bushfires, I remember hearing a poem on the radio, by Peter Auty, an experienced CFA volunteer who had witnessed first-hand fires that were different from any he had seen before. He spoke movingly about how this fire broke all the rules, how none of his training or experience had prepared him for that day. It struck me that his relationship not only with fire, but with a world that allowed fire to behave in such an uncharacteristic and terrifying manner, had changed forever.

In reflecting on my experience, and thinking about Peter Auty’s poem, it came to me that we are unaccustomed to thinking about our relationships with the non-human world as ones that matter to us, and which require the same effort and care that we give to our human loved ones. In our failure to realise this, we may not acknowledge the impact, on us and the system we are embedded within, when these relationships are ruptured through trauma and/or loss. Notions of mutual respect and reciprocity have developed some currency when we think about our relationships with nature—thanks to the efforts of ecologists, conservationists, climate change scientists/activists and the like—but we have yet to fully grapple with ideas that we routinely apply to our human relationships. What would it take for us to acknowledge that the non-human part of our world is as significant to us, and as worthy and capable of a reciprocal, respectful relationship as the human

part? What would it look like to fully own the importance of—and take full responsibility for working on—our relationships with fire, with water, with the earth, the air, plants, the animal world? How would we apply the principles of healthy relating to our relationships within the natural world? In acknowledging our vulnerability as partners in relationship, how might we communicate respectfully, listen actively, peacefully resolve conflict, repair relationship ruptures—and perhaps most importantly, choose non-violent ways of interacting with ‘all that is’?

To find adequate ways to do this, perhaps we need look no further than the indigenous peoples of this and other countries—and for us ‘Anglos’ to our own her/history—to rediscover the myriad of rituals, ceremonies and techniques that enable us as humans to imaginatively engage with nature in a way that fosters truly respectful and non-violent relationships, characterised by mutuality, reciprocal obligation, and acknowledgement of the intrinsic integrity and right to life of all things. Community circles that reconnect humans with the natural cycles and rhythms of the seasons, rituals that celebrate rites of passage (both human and non-human) and collective processes that engage the whole community in healing ourselves, our relationships with each other and with nature provide multisensory and creative tools for entering into non-verbal and imaginative dialogue. For those of us who are working with individuals, couples, families and communities to recover from the bushfires and other nature-generated traumas, maybe it’s time to enlarge our definition of who is in our ‘family’ system, and acquaint ourselves with—or further develop in a way appropriate to our contemporary culture and community—therapeutic tools that will assist our work in facilitating relational repair, maintenance and change within the entire ecological system of which we and the clients we endeavour to help are just a small, though pivotal part.

I have drawn on both human and non-human relationships to commence healing my relationship with fire. I think it may be an ongoing process. Thanks to the generosity, humour, good spirit and downright cheek of the resident Cape Conran goanna, campfires, kookaburras, the magnificent ocean, and of course my friends and family, I am beginning to re-vision a changed yet mutually respectful relationship with fire—one where I never under-estimate her power as she completes her part of the Aussie bush life/death/ rebirth cycle, and remember to respectfully ask her, and express gratitude for, her generous offering of warmth and light. page

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Book nook

‘Book Nook’ Reviewed by Mandy Podhorodecki Eltham Bookshop The bookshop proudly supports this magazine and will offer 5% off the RRP for the reviewed titles.

Let’s Talk About Sex Robie H.Harris and Michael Emberley

Pregnancy Food Jody Vassallo

Cloud Tea Monkeys Mal Peet and Elspeth Graham Illustrated by J. Wijngaard

ERIC Shaun Tan

This best seller has set the standard for communicating with young people about sexual development and health.

Originally published in 1994, this updated version contains the latest information about birth control, the HPV vaccine and sexually transmitted diseases including HIV/AIDS. It also includes a section on safe and responsible internet use.

Millions have turned to this book for honest, reliable and accessible information regarding puberty, changing bodies, reproduction, sex, pregnancy, birth and families. The book is illustrated with humorous cartoons in an easy to read format which makes it accessible and reassuring for the young reader and adults alike.

This small gem of a book would make a welcome addition to any cookbook collection. It is brimming with delicious, health giving recipes based on fresh and readily available whole foods. These are beautifully presented with colour photographs that compliment the concise and easy to read text. The recipes are divided into mealtime sections with tantalising meals and new, exciting ideas for drinks and snacks. This book is a culinary delight and aimed at providing expectant mothers with an innovative and nutritionally analysed diet to maximise the health of both mother and child during this special time.

This delightful tale is set in a tiny village in India below tea plantations where the young Tashi must go to work when her mother falls ill. It is a magical story about monkeys that come to her aid and harvest Cloud Tea which grows so high up on the mountain that no human hands can reach it. When the Royal tea taster pays a surprise visit in search of the best tea, he tastes the Cloud Tea from Tashi’s basket declaring it to be the best tea in the world. The authors have woven a heart warming story that will change the course of Tashi’s life from an age old legendary tale of tea picking monkeys in India.

Fortiori Publishing/$9.95

Walker Books/$29.95

This little book has a lot to say about cultural differences which are often subtle— defying easy description and explanation. When Eric, a foreign exchange student, comes to stay with a local family, he creates an air of mystery that fascinates the young narrator and other family members.

This whimsical story is in hard book format with lots of modern illustrations and very little text. It is aimed at the young reader and deals with complex concepts that are reduced down to simple notions. These are expressed beautifully by the mother when she says that what they don’t understand about Eric and his ways must be a ‘cultural thing’. This is a story of acceptance and surprises that leaves much to the imagination and encourages attempts at understanding however confusing they may be.

Walker Books/$24.95

Age range: 8+

Age 8+ Allen and Unwin Publishers/$9.99 page

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More books and a CD too...

Wholefood for Children Jude Bledeau

This book offers a fine combination of passion and practical advice, inviting the reader to dive into a healthy (and yummy) food culture. Jude Blereau’s desire to truly nourish the child and her wealthy and grounded knowledge of what good food is—and how to use it—are great motivators.

There are over 165 recipes, split up into age relevant sections; 6-8 months; 8-12 months; 1-3 years and 3-7 years. Even though two of my children are well beyond these ages I was still inspired by many of the recipes.

In a concise yet conversational manner, part one covers areas such as food culture, fussy eaters, special diets and building blocks for body and soul. The ‘Wholefood Kitchen’ section and ‘Recipe Foundations’ are bursting with useful information.

I love this book!

Reviewed by Charlotte Young

Turning Tears into Laughter Lou Harvey-Zhara

The Tall Man: Death and Life on Palm Island Chloe Hooper

Divine Child - Soothing Harp for the New Soul Hayley Erin

This little book is full of gems.

It starts by putting children’s behaviour within a context (for example, what’s going on in the child’s environment or in the family) and looks at many explanations for why a particular child might be behaving in ways that are challenging. The author draws on her many years of experience as a teacher and parent to provide readers with useful, practical and gentle ideas for disciplining children. The chapters are peppered with real-life stories and tips which make this a very accessible and readable book.

In 2004, a Palm Island resident Cameron Doomadgee died while in police custody.

The Tall Man is Hooper’s account of death, riots, the inquest and the subsequent trial of the police officer Chris Hurley.

Everything about this CD is beautiful and inviting; the cover, the eco-packaging and, of course, the music.

The harp, Native American flute and faery chimes are played in such a way so as to soothe and calm infants and children, but really this is a CD for everyone. Hayley’s compositions have a magical quality to them. My favourite track is titled Angel Dreaming.

It is long enough (nearly 12 minutes) to get happily lost in.

This CD is certainly gorgeous for children, but would also be perfect for yoga, meditation or for calming a whole household between 5 and 7pm (which is how I’ve been using it!)

The Five Mile Press/$12.95 www.skiptomylouparenting. com.au Reviewed by Rachel Watts

Hooper explores the not only unfolding events but also the histories of those involved. The history of Palm Island, the culture, the relationships between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians, the justice meted out and the legacy this has left behind; they all combine to create current circumstances and an atmosphere where such tragedies can and do occur.

The Tall Man is an engrossing tale. While reading it I was engaged, saddened, enraged and informed. It is an accessible and thought provoking story of our history which deserves to be widely read and discussed.

Available from www.hayleytheharpist.com.au and www. brumbybooks-music.com.au $29.95 inc postage Reviewed by Rachel Watts

Reviewed by Jenny Heslop page

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presents

Our boys - where are they heading???

How can parents, teachers and the wider community support boys and young men through childhood and adolescence as they grapple with issues of technology, bullying, relationships, violence, drugs? How can we help them to grow into confident, happy and balanced men?

Speakers Maggie Hamilton - Writer, teacher and social commentator Andrew Fuller - Clinical psychologist and author Wednesday Sept 1st, 2010 7pm (doors open) for a prompt 7.30pm start Where: Eltham Community and Reception Centre Eltham, Victoria Cost $15 ($10 conc) Paid prior to event.

RSVP by 25th August Email rachel@barefootmagazine.com.au Other enquiries please call 0400 683 430

Surrender Boys, testosterone and wild play words Lucy Dawson (not her real name) photo Charlotte Young Lucy Dawson is a self appointed relationship guru, with a passion for all things sexual. She lives in inner city Melbourne with her lucky husband and gorgeous children. She stays at home by day and is a freelance writer & researcher by night.

‘I’m going to GET you...’ Bang! Crash!

Thwack! (Flying leap and seemingly rough tackle to the ground.)

‘You be the robber and I’ll attack you when you’re not looking...’ Whack! Bam! (Foam sword to the back of the head.

Much laughter.)

Cue, me intercepting with a variety of different sentences all along the same theme: ‘Be gentle!’, ‘Not around the neck!’, ‘Be careful—that stick is very sharp.’

I feel like it’s a relentless, endless reminding of gentleness, carefulness, awareness...

Sometimes I’m not sure I’m cut out for being a mother to a boy. Because despite my aversion to all things violent, the avoidance of violent television shows and the constant calming of aggression—my beautiful, sensitive boy still loves to play rough. He loves to play really rough, testosterone fuelled games.

I grew up in a family of girls. We didn’t have guns and swords as part of our play. I remember playing ‘schools’ a lot, and we loved playing ‘spies’ (involving the younger children in the street being

the guards and the older kids having to escape the prison), but I don’t remember feeling any urge to play fighting games.

Mum tells me we rarely picked up sticks to hit trees for no good reason, or created guns out of connectable textas...but my son has done this since he mastered manual dexterity.

We have a very strict ‘no guns’ policy in our house—I don’t like them. I don’t like the play they inspire and while I know some of my best friends have vastly differing opinions, I will never change my opinion on guns as part of play. We have cutlasses for pirate play and swords for knight play, but I still haven’t found a situation where I’ve thought to myself, ‘What we’re missing is a gun!’ Even the striking weapons still took a while for me to come to grips with, but they came with a certain surrender; an uncomfortable, but conscious surrender to the maleness of my boy.

Being away with a friend and her older boys really opened my eyes to how much I ‘smooth’ out the more boisterous behaviour of my son. I often tell him to stop because I’m uncomfortable with it, but as my friend said when our sons

were belting each other with foam swords, ‘If they’re both happy, then leave them’.

It was my turn to surrender to their way of playing. Boys often act out situations where they explore right and wrong, use their organisation skills, show courage and foster teamwork, which are all characteristics that we want them to understand and develop. I just wish they could work it out in a less violent way!

I don’t pretend to understand men, but as a mother trying to raise a boy in today’s world of media saturation, violence and aggression, I want to be part of the solution. I want to show my boy that being aggressive isn’t the answer to anything.

So I guess what I struggle with the most, is how to balance this desire to bring up a boy who is aware of the effect of violence, but in doing so, not to squash the ‘maleness’ that is bursting at the seams. I don’t have the answer—I don’t even an idea of what the answer might be, so I’d like to hear from all of you out there with boys…

How do we do it? How do we protect our boys from violence, yet honour their desire to play?

Email Lucy at admin@barefootmagazine. com.au page

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My lucky baby A naturopath’s story of meningococcal words Jacqui Fee photo Shellie Drysdale Jacqui Fee is a Naturopath and Herbalist in Melbourne CBD and Eltham. One of her greatest clinical rewards is in helping individuals and couples to prepare for, conceive and produce happy, healthy children. In addition, she has a great passion for teaching and mentoring naturopathic students, and is currently writing a professional course in fertility. page

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down to a very busy few days of travel and activity and so we let her sleep for a little longer. When she woke again she was flushed and hot. Trying not to panic and feeling rather paralysed, I willed my therapeutic brain to turn over. I thought of fever management techniques like tepid baths Our six month old baby Jade has just survived and stripping her off. I even fleetingly thought of an infection of meningococcal meningitis and septicaemia, which even as I write this I still cannot nurturing naturopathic things like soaking socks believe. Not the surviving unscathed part, because in lemon garlic water. I thought of my friend Eve, the emergency nurse who says that included in strangely I had stern optimism about that, but her array of medical skills, is a healthy dose of gut the horror of contracting a potentially lethal and uncommon disease and the trauma of the medical instinct. This is what we followed, whipping her off to the local clinic where the nurse was on duty. investigations and medications on our little bub.

We quickly took her temperature, gave her a tepid Despite never wanting our child to become ill, I bath and paracetamol and thereby reduced her do relish the comfort of being able to heal and very high fever. soothe my loved ones through little afflictions with With the fever managed and Jade in good mediour home first aid methods. My biggest anxiety cal care, we felt much better. The tiny medical however, had always been how I would deal with centre had no equipment to monitor babies, so fever. she was hooked up to the instruments they had for Our daughter had never had a hint of illness until adults, which included an ECG, oxygen mask and we arrived at my childhood home, in a remote electronic red light thermometer. She had stabiTasmanian town. We woke in the morning to a lised well, but it was a dramatic sight to see her quiet, listless child with an unusually small appetite hooked up so comprehensively for what I was still and a haunting stare. Initially I put her behaviour Our paediatrician said, with a meaningful and intense stare, that she is a very lucky baby. In fact, he said that we should buy a lotto ticket with our luck; however, to quote my sister-in-law Melissa, we have already won all the luck we need.

hoping was a little fever. Her haunting stare continued though, and there was no doctor for about 200km. That’s when we decided on an emergency air evacuation and that’s when I menstruated for the first time since her birth.

In a surreal moment, both Jade and I were stretchered into the ambulance and in a flash we were at hospital in Emergency. She was quickly cleared of most likely causes of infection and she did not have the hallmark features of major infection such as a rash, but considering our dramatic entry and isolated home, we were kept overnight for observation. During the night her fever worsened and in the morning worried doctors started rushing about talking of bacterial meningitis. My naive optimism was dashed and terror set in.

I had no inkling that taking blood was so difficult and painful for babies. This was obviously made worse by the reduced blood to her peripheries induced by the disease. After the doctors made about a dozen attempts with Jade screaming and vomiting from fear and pain, blood was taken, antibiotics were started and it was quickly established that she had bacterial meningitis. Then we were taken for a lumbar puncture and I thought this surely couldn’t be happening. Gloves were on, blue medical sheets were out and the needle was ready. We held her and chanted quiet and stillness to her, but she writhed about screaming. Sedation was needed and our stressed, flushed, staring baby’s eyes rolled back and there was stillness.

The spinal fluid didn’t flow easily and we—myself, my husband, the doctors and nurses—were in a suspended void, holding breath, panting, sweating. I cracked, and just as I said, ‘Surely that’s enough’, the fluid started to flow. We took her out of there, wrapped her up, cuddled and sobbed.

my baby. Then I watched as her little body flushed and prickled. I called the nurse and she called the doctor. The nurse had accidentally administered three times the dose of a very strong antibiotic. I demanded to speak to the doctor. Apologetic and horrified as the staff were, nothing could be done.

We sat by her bedside in renewed panic, hoping for her body not to display the side effects that the doctors listed and praying that our tiny baby could cope with a drug overdose at the same time as having a severe form of bacterial meningitis.

She did. She slept soundly and had only one more fever. There was no space for peace yet however, because as her body and mind came out of the haze of infection, her little stomach was wracked with antibiotic toxicity and every few hours her body was thrown into spasms of colourful vomit and diarrhoea.

Needless to say, I checked each and every dose and investigation meticulously, and finally the last dose of antibiotics was administered to ensure complete eradication of the bacteria. We were then able to start her on baby acidophilus (good gut bacteria), which made me feel wonderful, as I could finally contribute to her healing through my medicine rather than solely with the power and simplicity of love and presence. As they say, she ‘bounced back’ and after fighting a mammoth disease and the medical treatments, she giggled and laughed as we left hospital nine days after our arrival.

We will have to have several tests all year, but the paediatrician assessed her through her grins ten days later, and gave us a 99% chance of a complete recovery.

Concluding our story, I am left with three reflections:

She was given mega doses of several antibiotics to cover the possible bacteria that could be infecting her until it was established that she had meningococcal. There was only one incidence of this in Tasmania last year. We sat by the cot with our hands over her. It felt as if I was literally holding her hot little heart as it raced and bumped seemingly out of the chest cavity and against my palm.

Have a healthy respect for disease risk—I am sure I am not alone in feeling that major infections such as this are quite unlikely to happen to ‘my’ family. But now that it has happened, I am left finding a balance between feeling fortunate that there is a low risk that these things can happen to us, and maintaining a healthy respect for the fact that they still can.

The fevers lessened the temperature reduced and she smiled. Wow.

Monitor medical procedures—it is essential that we have faith in our caregivers, however, respectful enquiry is prudent.

We had been in hospital for three nights and we were told she would be there on IV antibiotics for up to two weeks. The dose of antibiotics had increased every day and on the third night the nurse came in and said she was administering a higher dose again. I stopped her and questioned her; still feeling uncertain. I also questioned the other nurse. Confused, but focused on getting these antibiotics into her to kill this infection, I cuddled

Trust your parental gut instincts—despite whatever medical knowledge a parent may or may not have, a parent is experienced in detecting when their child is behaving abnormally, even if fear is a part of a parent’s motivation to action.

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Minmia visits Melbourne Listening to an Aboriginal elder

words Charlotte Young artwork Pru Ervin Charlotte Young is very happy to be a part of the wonderful Barefoot team which is growing!! Currently her favourite word is ‘nutty’.

I’d just finished reading The Tall Man by Chloe Hooper (see book reviews) and had recently watched Samson and Delilah on DVD; I was feeling more helpless than ever about the plight of the majority of indigenous Australians and which way was forwards and up. So when an email dropped into my inbox inviting me to spend the weekend with Minmia who was going to be visiting Melbourne, I jumped at the chance.

‘Minmia is an Aboriginal senior woman, educator and healer. She is a custodian of traditional women’s lore/law of the Wirradjirri people, an Aboriginal nation in New South Wales stretching from Dunedoo into Victoria.

In 1987 the decision was made by some people of the lore/law in Australia to no longer keep the teachings secret. Mother Earth was suffering from the massive scale of humanity’s destructiveness and Indigenous Australia responded.

Minmia was instructed to pass down Wirradjirri women’s lore/law to any woman interested.’

From Michal Armstrong’s introduction to Under the Quandong Tree by Minmia There were about fifteen women attending, with the average age being somewhere around fifty.

We were to make a lightening stick on each afternoon, a traditional gift for a grandchild—a bit challenging for me as my eldest child is eleven and my youngest is four—comprised of a piece of ‘bendy wood’ like tortured willow and our collected treasures from nature and beyond that held meaning for us. We turned the treasures into beads (with the help of a very cool ‘girl’s drill’— one small enough to fit a woman’s hand) and made eight beaded strands that would later be attached to the stick; ‘with this hakea seed I wish for survival for my grandchild; with this gumnut, shelter; with this pearl, wisdom and food for the rainbow serpent; with this shell, protection at sea…’ The strands vary in length so that their hanging shape takes on the form of a lightening bolt, grounding the wishes of the grandmother for her grandchild. My lightening stick is still a work in progress...

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The mornings were spent sitting in a circle listening to Minmia. The art of oral storytelling is a fine, fine skill to have and this woman definitely has it; she peppers her purpose with a fiery tongue that moves so fast and is bulging with humour that you’re instantly swept along; she is humble at times but very, very far from meek. I have heard stories of the dreamtime before, the creation and how animals acquire their various shapes and forms, and I’ve read them too but never really absorbed them. The essence of Biami (be-AR-me) the creator and Nungeena’tya (nun-gin-a-TEE-a) the Earth were beautifully conveyed.

Other stories too were a lesson to hear, modern day ones with the same theme—caretaking the land and the creatures and knowing their place and our place. Like the one about the fish eyes.

Minmia was out fishing one day with her son in his boat when they had to take a quick detour to a jetty which had public amenities. On her way back to the boat she saw two lads torturing a fish…

What would you do if you saw two boys on a jetty sticking a hook into the eyes of a living fish?

Confront them or walk on by? I guess it depends on who you’re with and who they’re with…A friend told me how, in the summer, she and her three children (nine, seven and four) watched helplessly as a group of adolescent boys threw a large, living crab about on the waves. She talked to her children about what they were witnessing and how our job is to look after the animals not to harm them, but she felt afraid to approach the boys. She did manage to give them the ‘evil eye’ and they left it in the end, broken, to perish on the sand.

Minmia had a bit more to say though, when it came to the boys on the jetty. She confronted them and asked them what they were doing. To their response—that they were just investigating—she gave them a tough dressing down, saying you don’t do that to a dead fish, let alone a live one.

How could they? What were they doing? The parents came over and she gave them a telling off too: Why would they let their children act like this?

“To know and not to act is not to know” Proverb Of course they knew what they were doing. Well if they didn’t, why didn’t they know? And what would be the next step? If the kids were doing this today, what would they be doing tomorrow? As the father started to stand up to his full height and get a touch shirty, Minmia carefully pointed out her strapping son in his boat and continued with her indignation until she was done.

Minmia had several other stories of hearty indignation; fronting up to people to question and to care. These led me to reflect later on the nature of fear, responsibility and apathy. I would think twice about what she did, brawny companion or no; out of fear of being bopped one, fear of ‘making a scene’…fear for myself. Where does my responsibility to care for myself or to care for the land/the creatures lie? Someone else will say something, surely… I don’t feel I can…

Helplessness and apathy walk hand in hand.

ing radish seeds because they grew so fast. How many times now do we take our children out and connect them to the Earth? Watch someone who’s garden mad, they’re so grounded, they’re in the Earth all the time. They’re grounded because all their negative energy is absorbed, that’s what Nungeena-tya’s for. You must have your shoes off for at least ten minutes a day and stand barefooted on the Earth. When your kids get really angry don’t say, ‘Go to your room.’ Instead say, ‘Go straight to the yard! And gimme your shoes!’

Watch what happens in ten minutes! Without fail, every single time, whenever you’re angry take your shoes off and go and stand out on the Earth. Come after me if this doesn’t work! Within ten minutes you are absolutely back down and grounded. We must do this every day otherwise we’re just not grounded.’

Under the Quandong Tree by Minmia

But I didn’t come away feeling helpless after meeting Minmia. I felt positively inspired; more inspired Minmia, 2007 Under the Quandong Tree, Quandong Dreaming Publishing to deepen and nurture my relationship with the Earth. And more capable of responding to my own helplessness when I submerge myself in the quagmire of reported horrors and losses that confront many Aboriginal people on a daily basis. I recognised the first step at least: to seek out more indigenous folk who I can listen to and learn from.

I can—at least—start by listening.

I loved hearing Minmia’s teachings, from mythical stories, to practical women’s business (such as what to do with the placenta and why not to cut the cord until it has stopped pulsing), and ceremonies; she covered a lot of ground with a very large dose of down to earth humour.

Towards the end of her book, Minmia has some really practical advice, which I have to share, for reasons which will become obvious on reading: ‘And we need to teach our children. Years ago the first gardening you taught your children was plantpage

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Ordinary people doing extraordinary things...

A typical day for mother of two, Katie Franz, reads like many other working mums: up early to organise her two young daughters to get them to school on time, some quiet reprieve in her car while she drives to work, a busy day at the office, then back to school to pick her girls up and home for dinner. What sets Katie apart from many other mums is that she uses a wheelchair after sustaining paraplegia in a car accident when she was sixteen. words Megan Ilmer Megan Illmer is the Communications Coordinator for the Spinal Injuries Association, a Queensland-based charity.

Prior to her current role, Megan was a newspaper journalist for several daily Queensland newspapers. She’s inspired and humbled daily by the people she meets and works with at the Association.

’At the time I had just left school, got a job and had moved out of home. One night some friends and I and my boyfriend at the time went out to the city, but on the drive home my boyfriend was speeding and being stupid,’ Katie says. ‘We all screamed at him to slow down but he wouldn’t listen; he lost control and hit a power pole. My L1 vertebra was shattered from the impact and the T12 was dislodged. Both vertebrae are in the lower back.’

was basically to get out there and have fun,’ says Katie. Katie doesn’t like to say ‘no’ to any opportunity; a philosophy her parents have always supported and fostered. ’Of course at the beginning it was a huge shock and there’s definitely a grieving period involved when you need to cry, but in general I think I got used to things pretty quickly’.

Katie met her husband-to-be, Danny, three months before she was discharged from the Ironically, Katie’s mum is a nurse and was working Spinal Injuries Unit and they married three years at the Princess Alexandra Hospital’s Spinal Injuries later.

Unit in Brisbane at the time of Katie’s accident.

Katie says she always knew she wanted to be a It was her mother’s worst nightmare that Katie mum, ‘As well as the usual decisions that are typishould end up on her ward. Katie spent the next cal for any couple contemplating having a baby, eight month’s recovering and learning how to live we also had the added questions of what my using a wheelchair. injury would mean during my pregnancy, the birth Now aged thirty, Katie says when it did sink in that itself and of course the everyday issues of raising she had a permanent injury, she had to make a children.’ Katie saw her situation as a challenge conscious decision to continue making the most of that was worth much more than the tough times. every opportunity. ‘I have always had an optimistic Chelsea was born in 2001, followed by Tiana in mindset. I was a kid; just sixteen years old when 2004. Both girls were born by caesarean section I had my injury and my philosophy of life then at thirty eight weeks because Katie’s doctor had concerns about autonomic dysreflexia affecting a natural birth. Autonomic dysreflexia is a common condition experienced by people with a spinal cord injury, which can cause an abrupt onset of excessively high blood pressure and in extreme cases can cause seizures and strokes.

‘Surprisingly there’s little documentation about women with spinal cord injuries having babies,’ Katie says. ‘While many women with this type of injury who want children can have them, it seems to be an area of medical research that’s been overlooked.’

With her first pregnancy, Katie said the most difficult part was transferring in and out of her wheelchair once she hit the six month mark. ‘I had carpel tunnel in both arms from all of the swelling,

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Katie believes parenting is hard for anyone, not just for people who use wheelchairs, but stresses that the rewards for all parents far outweigh the challenges. ‘Being a mum is a right any women should have, regardless of whether or not they use a wheelchair.’ double take when they see me slide from my wheelchair into the pool, but they’re always positive, giving me the thumbs up and saying ‘Good on you,’ says Katie. ‘It’s always a good feeling to challenge people’s perceptions of what people with a disability can do.’

Katie’s positive attitude has made her a highly regarded member of the Spinal Injuries Association’s Peer Support Team.

As a Peer Support Officer, Katie meets and shares advice with newly-injured patients at the Spinal Injuries Unit in Brisbane—the very same ward where Katie recovered after her accident.

which made it hard to brace my hands on my chair to transfer. And when you shift from your wheelchair to your bed, car seat or lounge, normally you bend forward at the waist. But because my belly was so big it became quite challenging,’ she says.

The first of many challenges about how to parent using a wheelchair occurred when they bought their first cot. ‘When we got it home we quickly realised I wouldn’t be able to reach over the side of the cot to pick up our baby, so Danny went to work on it. He modified the cot so it worked like a door. That way I just had to open the doors and I could lean right in to pick bub up.’

Katie believes parenting is hard for anyone, not just for people who use wheelchairs, but stresses that the rewards for all parents far outweigh the challenges.

‘Being a mum is a right any women should have, regardless of whether or not they use a wheelchair.’

‘My daughters have their own views on my disability,’ says Katie. ‘Sometimes they say it sucks because they want me to help them climb a tree or go to the beach. But we have lots of aunties and uncles around to shove them up that tree

or take them to the beach. My girls don’t know any different. That’s the up-side of it. They have only ever seen me use a wheelchair so to them it’s the complete norm.’

Katie believes it is important for her to remain positive not only for her frame of mind, but to set a good example for her girls. ‘If I don’t care, they don’t care.

If one of their friends asks them, ‘Why is your mum in a wheelchair?’, they just say, ‘She hurt her back and her legs don’t work and come on now, I’m going to the tuckshop because I’ve got $2 to spend!’

Katie gives an example of when one of her girls used her wheelchair to their advantage at a major shopping centre.

‘Chelsea was standing at the top of some stairs and said “Nar, nar, nar, you can’t catch me.” I used my best Darth Vadar voice, and said “Get down here now” and she quickly scurried down.’ Katie thinks her physical disability has made her girls more open minded and accepting of all people.

Apart from being a mother, Katie is a qualified personal trainer. She enjoys regularly swimming with her daughters.

‘I must admit I often see people doing a

‘Being in the Unit is like being a baby. You feel completely vulnerable and have to relearn everything that you used to do easily,’ says Katie. ’Being a Peer Support Officer is the perfect job for me because it allows me to share my experience with people that are still in the recovery and grief phase of having their spinal cord injury. I can give them the tools to inspire themselves.’

‘My outlook on life is extremely positive; I push the boundaries of disability on a daily basis and I want to inspire others to adopt that same philosophy.’

Katie credits her own positivity, combined with motivation from her husband and children as the tools that help her achieve an independent and fulfilled life.

‘Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you choose to react to it. Anything is possible with the right attitude,’ she says.

For more information on the Spinal Injuries Association, which celebrates its 50th anniversary this year, please visit www.spinal. com.au.

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Seasonal table Winter recipes

word and photo Sarah Foletta artwork Pru Ervin Having inherited a love of cooking from her grandmother, Sarah Foletta trained as a chef at some of Melbourne’s best

Winter has finally arrived; time to enjoy cooking warming winter fare. Risotto is a beautiful dish to make for friends and family as it requires time, effort and love. Use the best quality cheese and rice that your budget allows—I think buying the more expensive cheese is a better way to spend your money, if you have to choose between expensive rice and expensive cheese. Grana Padano is the best cheese for risotto. I also like to add a leek, a great winter vegetable, because it’s so flavoursome. Any left over stock can be frozen and used in soup. If you have leftover risotto, it makes delicious risotto balls. Simply crumb golf ball sized balls of risotto, pan fry, and heat through in the oven. I’ve also included a pudding recipe this season. It’s really rich and easy—about five minutes to prepare and then just forty-five minutes in the oven. This pudding is lovely with poached pears, or rhubarb served on the side—fruit that isn’t too sweet, to balance the sweetness of the pudding. It’s lovely served with yoghurt instead of cream.

restaurants. She and her husband have

Mushroom Risotto

since opened three

(serves 4 people)

wildly successful cafes

1. Bring the stock to a simmer.

in Melbourne, one of which won Delicious’

Ingredients

Cafe of the Year in 2009. Amongst all her cooking, she has still

3 tablespoons of extra virgin olive oil

managed to find time

1 finely diced onion

to start a family and

500g of arborio rice

has a gorgeous five month old daughter.

Method

4 cloves of garlic, finely diced 1 leek, washed and then sliced 1-2 litres of vegetable stock (see below) 100g grated parmesan cheese 1kg of Swiss brown mushrooms, wiped over with a damp cloth if dirty, and then sliced

2. In a heavy based saucepan sauté the onion, the garlic and the leek until soft. Add in the mushrooms, and cook on a medium heat, until they begin to caramelise—start to brown on the edges.

3. Add the rice to the onion mix, stir continuously until the rice is too hot to touch with your hands.

4. Begin to add the stock, 200mls at a time. Continue to stir, and add the stock as needed. When the rice is cooked to your liking, add the parsley, the cheese, the butter. Taste for salt and pepper, you may also at this point like to add a squeeze of lemon, and some lemon zest.

1 bunch of chopped continental parsley 100g of cubed butter (optional) juice and zest of a lemon (optional, but it does make risotto smooth and creamy)

A rocket and raddichio salad would be a nice contrast to the sweet, buttery risotto.

Other risotto gems are: * Leek, thyme and goats cheese * Fennel, lamb shank and almond * Pumpkin, sage and pinenut * Taleggio, tomato and pea * Pumpkin, chorizo and rosemary

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Vegetable stock Ingredients 2 large onions (leave unpeeled if you don’t mind the stock being light brown in colour) 4 medium carrots, peeled 4 stalks of celery, leaves removed 4 cloves of garlic, unpeeled, and halved 6 tomatoes 6 peppercorns

Method

1. Set oven to 180°C, and grease a small casserole dish with butter.

2. Combine the dry ingredients for the base.

3. Then add the melted butter, and the eggs, combine into a smooth batter.

4. Place the batter into the dish, and then sprinkle on the sugar, the cocoa, and then lastly pour the hot water over the top.

5. Bake for 45 mins, and then serve with your choice of ice-cream, cream, sour cream or yoghurt.

12 thyme stems 1/2 a bunch of parsley stalks

1. Clean all of the vegetables, and chop into golf ball sized pieces.

Chocolate Self Saucing Pudding (serves 4-6 people)

Ingredients

The base 100 g of butter 125 g of self raising flour 120 g of caster sugar 2 tablespoons of cocoa 125 g of dark chocolate chips 2 eggs, beaten

The sauce topping 150g of soft brown sugar 3 tablespoons of cocoa 250ml of boiling water

Ingredients 4 Willam pears 400 grams of sugar 1 litre of water 1/2 a vanilla pod (optional) 1 cinnamon stick (optional) Peel of a lemon (optional) 2 star anise

1. Place the sugar and the water into a saucepan, and bring to a simmer.

Method

3. Strain, discarding the vegetables. You should now have about 4 litres of liquid.

(serves 4)

Method

6 litres of water

2. Place all ingredients in a pot, bring this to a simmer, and then keep simmering for a further hour and a half.

Poached Pears

Shown with poached pears (see recipe below) and ice-cream Pears are a lovely fruit. They are so cheap, and readily available. For the ‘wow factor’ when presenting, keep them whole, and keep the stem intact.

This poaching syrup is also good for quinces, which should be cooked really slowly(about 2-3 hours), so they can develop that lovely warm Autumn orangey pink they become. In the recipe I’ve included optional flavourings, decide which flavour best suits your needs. If you are serving your pears with the chocolate pudding the plain or lemon ones are lovely.

Poached fruit should be stored submergered in its poaching liquid in the fridge.

They will last up to 10 days.

2. In the meantime, peel the pears, leaving them whole, and also keeping the stem intact. Place them in the poaching liquid as you peel each one, or else they will discolour.

3. When they are all in the liquid, cut a piece of baking paper into a circle just larger than the pot, and place on the pears. Paper used for this purpose is called a cartouche. To poach properly the pears will need to be completely submergered in the liquid. You will need to hold the pears and the paper down with a saucer or two.

4. Bring to a simmer again, and then turn right down. The pears will take about 1/2 an hour to cook, but will need more time if they are a bit hard.

5. Allow to cool, keeping the cartouche in place so they don’t discolour. Refridgerate.

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Seasonal craft Winter inspirations

words Sandra Pyke artwork Deanne Lawn Sandra is a single mum of three wonderful children: 27 and 18 year old daughters, and an 11 year old son. She started Winterwood as a hobby and now twelve years later it is a full time business that supports her. Sandra’s after hours passions are listening to Krishna Das chants and audio books by Eckhart Tolle.

Deanne is passionate about teaching art and craft to children and adults. She shares her evolving home and collection of whimsies with two beautiful teenage daughters and a patient husband.

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Winter is muddy puddles, icy mornings, a time when it’s hard to get out of bed, warm singlets, knitted jumpers, slippers, the bare branches of our deciduous trees, lantern walks, inward reflection, insight, a deeper understanding of self, open fires to dream into.

In our modern world it’s easy for children to be deprived of nature, particularly in winter when we tend to stay indoors to keep warm and drive from place to place. Take the time to dress yourselves in warm clothes and go outside for a walk to experience the elements, feel the cold air on your face, observe the changes in nature around you and collect interesting things from nature. Reconnect with Mother Nature. Take the children to the snow to experience the element of snow. When you’re home warm-up in front of a fire/heater, take a warm bath, cuddle a hot water bottle, whilst reading a story and drinking a cup of winter soup.

In the Autumn issue of Barefoot I wrote about a seasonal/nature table. In winter I like to use a grey, blue or purple cloth and on this I like to place bare mossy branches in a vase or interesting glass jar, crystals and items found on our walks outside on the ground in winter.

The moon and stars mobile can be used to hang above the table. Some varieties of native Australian flowers—correas or native fuchsias, for example—flower in winter, and make a welcome addition to the seasonal/nature table.

A little winter gnome would also be at home on the winter table.

Winter craft ideas

Make a lantern

You will need:

Different colours of waxed paper or kite paper Wallpaper glue (this works best, but watered down pva glue will suffice) Round balloons Paint brush String Tealight candle Permanent marker A flat dish Blu-tac Scissors

Tear or cut the paper into any shape or size, 2 to 3cm is a good size. Mix up the wallpaper glue, pour a small amount into a flat dish. Blow up your balloon, tie some string to the knot of the balloon—this is the top of the lantern. With a marker draw a line around the balloon about half way up. Make sure you glue the paper to the bottom half of the balloon. Find a bowl to sit the top part of the balloon in. Start by dropping a few different colours of the wax paper into the glue, then with your paint brush or fingers, pick up the paper and start to spread it around the balloon, overlapping slightly to just above your marked line. Then paint over the top of the paper with more glue—not too sloppy. Do this until the balloon is covered to the marked line. You don’t need to glue layers and layers as with paper mache, just one layer of overlapping is enough.

And, don’t use too much glue! For young children keep the balloon small so it doesn’t take too long.

Hang up the balloon, and wait until it is dry—usually overnight. The best fun is popping the balloon with a pin and watching the balloon shrivel away from the waxed paper. Remove the balloon.

Put a little blue tack to the bottom of the tealight and place in the bottom of the lantern. Trim the top of the lantern with scissors. Make two small holes near the top to put the string through to make a handle. You now have a beautiful coloured lantern.

Create a moon and stars mobile

You will need:

Hand dyed 100% Pure New wool felt Wool fleece Embroidery needle Sharp Scissors Blue and yellow embroidery thread Pen

Learn to finger knit

Jute, hemp string, or wool

Finger knitting is a good introduction to knitting. It can be taught from four years of age. Finger knitting makes wonderful ropes which can be used for the string on your lantern, belts, crowns, a string hung across a wall for pegging photos and drawings to.

We had so much finger knitting going on in our house at one time and over the years I have found many uses for it…cut out coloured paper shapes which can then be sewed to the finger knitting for a birthday decoration hung around the room, or tie some around balloons for birthday guests to take home, or wrap it around a present instead of ribbon…

Satay stick or a crochet hook

All you will need is some wool—100% pure new wool preferable.

Look out for wool at the op shop. Personally, I prefer thick coloured craft wool..

Make a loop/slip knot (see diagram). Place the knot on your left index (pointer) finger, let the short end fall to the left. Take the yarn, place it from the back of your finger to the front, then pull the loop at the back over the yarn (see diagram). Keep doing this until you have the length you require. To make a tighter finger knit, tension it each time by pulling on the yarn. When finished, cut the wool and pull the cut end through the last loop.

Cardboard Hot glue gun or fabric glue Bare branch about 20cm long and 1cm wide (mossy branches are the best) Glue pattern onto cardboard (cardboard from a cereal box is the ideal weight). Cut out your pattern pieces and place them on the felt. Trace around all pattern pieces carefully with a pen before cutting. Hint: when cutting out felt pieces only cut one layer at a time, never pin two layers together and cut. Cutting out the felt pattern pieces carefully makes for easier sewing together. Pin together the 2 moon pieces. Cut out as many stars as you would like on your mobile. Pin the moons together and blanket stitch around the sides, leave open about 2cm and stuff a small amount of wool inside with satay stick or crochet hook. Continue sewing up until closed.

Cut 5 to 7 different lengths of jute, ranging from 15cm to 25cm long. Glue or sew your moon to one of the lengths, then glue or sew the stars along the lengths as per diagram until you have used up all your stars. Now glue the top of your jute to the branch, wrap the jute over once as this will make it more secure. Now glue a string across the top to hang it from. You could also make this mobile from blue and yellow cardboard.

page All supplies can be purchased at Winterwood.

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Seneka’s tales Midwife: with Woman

words Seneka Cohen artwork Narissa Butler Seneka Cohen, works part time as a midwife in a small maternity unit and also independently in a group practice in Melbourne, Victoria.

She is mother to two adventurous boys who are eight and six and has a great love of the natural world, other cultures, travelling, organic gardening, and the community in which she lives.

So far the stories I have shared have been lovely straight forward births. I believe strongly that as a culture it is important to generate positive birth stories so that women are able to open to their unique experience of birth free from the sometimes traumatic experiences of others. However, normal births are not always positive experiences, and cesareans aren’t always tragic—it’s not just about the type of birth a woman has but how she feels about her experience and often whether or not she has felt strong, empowered and supported in the choices she has made.

This story looks at the challenge of working as a midwife in models of care where the first meeting I have with a mother-to-be is when she is in labour and in pain. It is a struggle shared by many of my colleagues who work in the hospital system.

It is important not to judge this woman’s choices but bear witness to both her and my struggle as I attempted to explore what she really wanted from her experience.

Keira’s name has been changed to protect her privacy.

I sat silently by Keira’s side, watching waiting for an entry into her world of intensity and pain. I could see the storm was fierce and like waves thrashing angrily against the shore her contractions were relentless. She gripped her husband’s hand and buried her head deeper into the bed, repeating the word ‘epidural’ as she did so. I calmly suggested a shower may help, she cut me off saying she’d tried that; it hadn’t worked.

I silently wished I had known her for more than twenty minutes and that I had more to work with than the facts presented to me in the hospital hand over. It seemed of little use to me that Keira, was a ‘Primip (a first time labouring woman) being induced for post dates’. Yes, I needed to know that this was her first birth and that she was experiencing an unusually painful labour probably due to the use of synthetic hormones on a body and cervix that was neither ripe nor ready to give birth, however more importantly I wanted to know about her inner world, how she felt about pain and giving birth and what this meant for her as a woman.

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Again I attempted to enter into Keira’s world. I suggested she sit on the ball which may relieve the pressure in her back. I sensed she was probably about 6 or 7cm dilated and that her baby may be slightly posterior by the sounds she was making and the way she was moving her body around the bed. This time she bluntly replied that her legs hurt and she’d been on the ball all day. I asked where she was feeling the pain most and when she pointed to her back I lurched into a description of sterile water injections*. She buried her head deeper into the pillow and cried out as another contraction started. I looked at her husband searching for some clue, some support, some way in, but he looked back at me with a mixture of fear and contempt, as if to say, ‘How long are you going to prolong this process? Just give her the epidural and get on with it, I can’t stand this any longer’.

I breathed out and centered myself. Is she choosing this out of desperation because she feels there is nowhere else to go or is she choosing this because it is what she really wants? My inner voice said, ‘It’s not your job to convince women to do it naturally,’ and yet I felt compelled to ensure that her choice to have an epidural was an informed one. I queried her knowledge of epidurals and asked her if she knew that they increased her chances of an instrumental birth and the need for an episiotomy, that it would mean she couldn’t get out of the bed; and she would need intravenous fluids and a catheter. ’I don’t care!’ she snapped back. ’Just get me an epidural.’ I felt defeated and a sense of failure; possibly, if I had had the right words or the right suggestion I could have helped

her through this difficult stage. Yet I knew that without a trusting relationship it would be difficult to traverse these parts of any woman’s labour.

Searching for my inner trust in this woman and her journey I called myself to stay in the present and support Keira in her choices.

The epidural was organised and Keira— now pain free—slept deeply as her body continued to contract.

Several hours later Keira was wheeled upstairs for a cesarean; although her cervix was fully dilated, her baby’s head remained high—too high for the doctors to do a vacuum or forceps birth. Without the epidural, as a midwife, I may have encouraged Keira to have adopted a myriad of positions to encourage her baby to move down. This may or may not have helped. Following the operation I watched as Keira’s baby girl breastfed vigorously, skin to skin on her mother’s chest. I left to change out of my theatre clothes and returned to find Keira’s baby lying floppy and blue across her chest.

I lifted her and breathed on her face, as another midwife called for the paediatrition,

and she stirred. After some vigorous rubbing and a whiff of oxygen she came back into herself, pink and gorgeous. Following this she was transferred to the special care nursery for observation overnight.

That night when I left the hospital, Keira on strong pain medication, alone in her bed with tubes coming in and out of her body and her baby across the hall in another room, I felt like the system had failed. I questioned the importance of ante natal education and I questioned my desire for women to experience normal birth. I realised it’s not that normal birth is the ultimate goal but rather the importance of consciously choosing intervention. Sadly I was unable to debrief with Keira, so am unable to share with you her experience of her birth—another inadequacy of the system.

This story isn’t a criticism of Keira’s choices but more an insight into the impact that a lack of continuity of care can have on both a mother’s and a midwife’s experience of birth. This birth stays with me and lurks on the periphery when I’m working hard to help a woman through a difficult labour. It

also provides a polarity for the times when I am filled with satisfaction after supporting a woman whom I know and trust is capable of making informed decisions about her care, even when the journey is unexpectantly rough and intervention is necessary. I know of women who have had elective epidurals and caesareans and felt incredibly empowered in their birth choices and I as a midwife have felt strong and courageous in supporting them knowing the incredible value of intervention when it is needed. * Sterile water injections involve the injection of tiny amounts of sterile water in four places over a woman’s sacral area.

Through a localised inflammatory response they have the potential to completely take away back pain in labour. The effects can last for 2-3hrs and although initially painful, for the 10 seconds whilst the needles are in, there are amazingly no side effects on the mother or baby at that time.

Homeopathy

resource guide

Safe, natural healthcare for you & your child

• Birthing Kits & Books • Pre & Post Natal Support • Immunisation info & advice

Melanie Creedy

Registered Homeopath Ph: 0409 089965 www.elementsofhealth.com.au

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Seasonal soul food Going within words Lisa Devine artwork Tina Pappasavvas Initially Lisa trained as a youth and community worker and participated in lots of theatre and dance. After working with street kids and unemployed youth she travelled the world before completing a degree in psychology. In her forties she studied for the priesthood and now works as a chaplain in Steiner schools; she counsels adolescents and works with their teachers and parents.

The season of winter touches us like a firm and loving hand, wrapping us like a child in swaddling and laying us into the earth. We can delight in scarves and hats of many colours, in the crunch of the early morning frost on the grass under our feet, in the mist curling in from the sea thick with mysterious sounds. Yet the cloak of darkness drawing in earlier and earlier can feel heavy and even gloomy. The summer journey, outwards, to the cosmic reaches of the stars becomes the journey inwards. We wander through the landscape of our soul and the velvety black of the night sky is now the night of our soul. The darkness outside encloses the darkness within.

In the ancient mysteries winter was the time to enter the darkness of earth, face the forces of opposition and destruction, and seek the flame of the stars within it. After the heavenly sojourn of summer the ancients left the angels behind and dared to seek the heaven that might be found on earth.

As they entered the mysteries of the embodiment of spirit in earthly form, they experienced strongly the forces of darkness that threatened to overwhelm them and take away their dreams.

However it was only in this very darkness that the divine creative spark could be found, like a star against the night sky.

Today we can find an echo of these mysteries when we feel the weight and gloom of the long winter nights calling up the dark thoughts and

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feelings that lie deep in our souls, those impulses that invade our minds and hearts, undermining our dreams and sapping our courage for destiny. If we take a leaf from the old mysteries we find that it is a time when they told riddles, threw runes and sought to understand the divine speech of earth signs and symbols. They kneaded and sculpted and played with forms. It was a time of active contemplation in stillness and in reverence for the mysteries of the earth. She was a teacher without whom no great destiny could unfold.

In the still long nights of winter the earth has truths to speak to us about our destiny’s unfolding path.

They are not always easy to hear. It helps to knit and knead and sculpt, allowing our thoughts to tune into that which speaks in the night. It is our deepest, dearest will that burns in the longest night. In the darkness we find the flame of our true being if we do not give up too soon.

We can choose to surrender to winter’s call; let her place her cloak around us and go into the dark. Like the ancients we will feel the threat of the darkness overcoming us but also like them we can listen for that deeper voice that calls from the heart of our destiny. Then with the poet Rilke we can say: “I love the dark hours of my life” and “I believe in nights”.

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