2020 Edition Three

FARRAGO EDITION THREE 2020

Acknowledgement of Country Despite the absence of staff and students on campus in recent months, it is paramount we continue to recognise and respect the traditional owners of the land on which the University was erected.

I acknowledge the Wurundjeri, Boon Wurrung, and Dja Dja Wurrung people of the Kulin Nation, and the Yorta Yorta Nation, as the rightful Custodians of the lands on which the various Melbourne University campuses reside. Sovereignty of these lands was never ceded — always was, always will be, Aboriginal land.

I acknowledge the Aboriginal Elders of these communities, whose presence and wisdom are pivotal to the survival of language and culture. It is vital our Elders be protected during the COVID-19 pandemic now more than ever, for their ontologies and epistemologies of the physical and sacred worlds must be passed down to the next generation of leaders. I acknowledge the perpetual inequalities and injustices faced by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, which can only be combatted when we stand together alongside our present and emerging Elders.

In light of recent events, I also acknowledge the systemic racism that continues to subjugate First Nations people to corporal punishment and death in Australia. There has been no accountability and minimal change at a governmental level since the 1991 Royal Commission Into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody. With the help of First Nations peoples and Elders, alongside allies and platforms like Farrago, the extensive and ongoing discrimination against Indigenous people in this country can be discussed to ignite change. I firmly support the Black Lives Matter movement — without justice, there is no peace.

As I live, study, and heal as a guest on Wurundjeri Country, I respect the land and waters that surround me and implore Bunjil, the creator, to continue to watch over and protect us all in these uncertain times. I acknowledge the importance of sacred sites here on Wurundjeri Country. I acknowledge the importance of sacred sites for all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, and condemn their destruction at the hands of rapacious corporations that fail to consult with local communities or Elders. The protection of sacred sites is paramount as we continue to denounce settler-colonial institutions that restrict Indigenous movements and occupations of their land. Connection to Country is central to First Nations customs, ceremonies, stories, and ways of life, so respect, conservation, and care for Country by all its inhabitants are vital.

Shanysa McConville (she/her) Eastern Arrernte woman from Mparntwe (Alice Springs)

EDITORS

Amber Meyer Bethany Cherry Sarah Peters Tharidi Walimunige

COVER

Abir Hiranandani

SOCIAL MEDIA

Ailish Hallinan Cat Ingham Emma McCarthy Helena Wang Isabella Ross Janelle Wong Joy Ong Ly Luong Natasha Jose Kalath

ILLUSTRATORS

Abir Hiranandani Alice Tai Anya Wong Annette Syahlani Arielle Vlahiotis Bethany Cherry Cathy Chen Elmira Cheung Geraldine Loh Kitman Yeung Yeung Michelle Pham YukKei Lo Yuki Phuong Ngo Phoebe Owl Rohith Prabhu Rose Gertsakis Reann Lin Stephanie Nestor Sue Park Vivian Li Wendy Lin Wendy T Lin Yena Kim Zino Feng This magazine is made from 30% recycled paper, excluding the cover and gloss pages, which are 99% recycled. Please recycle this magazine after use.

Farrago is the Newspaper of the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU). Farrago is published by the General Secretary.

The views expressed herein are not necessarily those of UMSU.

CONTRIBUTORS

A’bidah Zaid Shirbeeni Abir Hiranandani Ailish Hallinan Alexander Oswald Allen Xiao Anthony Jenkins Angus Thomson Ashleigh Barraclough Birdie Carmen Caity Charlotte Armstrong Emily White Felicity Lacey Felicity Smith Finley Tobin Gabbi Lobo Glenda Lu Isabelle Rieger Jack Buksh Jamisyn Gleeson Jasper MacCuspie Jean Baulch Jennifer Chance Joanna Guelas John Smith (1) John Smith (2) Kitman Yeung Lucy Seale Lucy Turton Mae Horsley Marija Mrvosevic Mark Yin Maya Hall Melanie Volf Mingyu Tan Mollie Wilson Natalie Chun Min Fong Nicole Moore Pavani Ambagahawattha Phoebe Edwards Rebecca Fletcher Rose Gertsakis Sarah Peters Shaira Afrida Oyshee Shanysa McConville Sidonie Bird de la Coeur Sophie Berrill Stephanie Mortlock Stephanie Zhang Thomas Spiteri Vanessa Lee Wen Yee Ang

SUBEDITORS

Ailish Hallinan AJ McFadden Allen Xiao Amelia Costigan Anindya Setiawan Asher Harrington Charlotte Waters Claire Yip Dana Pjanic Elizabeth Seychell Evelyn Ranogajec Felicity Lacey Finley Tobin Janelle Del Vecchio Jo Oakley Lindsay Wong Lucette Moulang Marcie Di Bartolomeo Mark Yin Markella Votzourakis Nicole Moore Nishtha Banavalikar Noa Abrahams Nurul Juhria Binte Kamal Poppy Willis Pavani Ambagahawattha Rebecca Fletcher Rohith Prabhu Shahrizad Zaina Choudhury Stephanie Zhang Tessa Marshall Tiia Kelly Tom Shute Victoria Thompson Wen Yee Ang Wing Kuang

MANAGERS

Alan Nguyen Emma McCarthy Finley Tobin Lauren Berry

COLUMNIST

Elmira Cheung Klesa Wilson Lee Perkins Tessa Bagshaw Tessa Marshall Tzur Ko-Geen Rochvarger Sunnie Meg Wendy Lin

ONLINE COLUMNIST Annalyce Wiebenga Shaira Afrida Oyshee

PHOTOGRAPHY

Abir Hiranandani Ailish Hallinan Alicia Christabella Andreas Alice Tai Andy Xu Ben Levy Ella Davidson Finley Tobin Helena Wang Jean Baulch Jing Tong Teo Jocelyn Deane Kashish Sandhu Ly Luong Mingyu Tan Nguyen Nguyen Rida Fatima Virk Stephanie Zhang

MUSIC TEAM

EVENTS Bec Meier Kashish Sandhu Choudhury Lian Ren Cat Ingham Chelsea Rozario WEB DESIGN Gina Song Wei Wang Jem Smith Kevin Yuan Lauren Berry Marsya Ali Shahrizad Zaina Choudhury

Illustrated by Rohith Prabhu

TEAM

03 04 06 08

Editorial Calendar OB Reports UMSU Updates Jack Buksh

09 Feature Art

Abir Hiranandani

10 University of Melbourne Fossil Fues Ties Run Deep Ailish Hallinan and Finley Tobin

12 UMSU Election Engagement Jasper MacCuspie

14 Bike Collective Cycling On Sarah Peters

15 International Students Bashed in the Melbourne CBD Stephanie Zhang

16 COVID News Update Angus Thomson

18 Education Sector Responds to COVID-19 Mark Yin

19 Secret Spaces: The Farrago Archives Joanna Guelas

20 Publishers Preparing for PostSelf Isolation Inundation

28 Horoscope

58 don’t worry, be happy

30 A Third Culture Kid’s Experience: Interracial Dating and Racial Fetishism

59 Masterpiece in Retrograde

31 The Curtain Calls for you to Think: Friends

61 Wake Early to be Late

Charlotte Armstrong

Klesa Wilson

Tzur Ko-Geen Rochvarger

32 Feature Art Melanie Volf

33 Photography

Sophie Berrill Lucy Seale Kashish Sandhu Kitman Yeung Mingyu Tan

Felicity Lacey

Isabelle Rieger

60 Spent Thrift

Natalie Chun Min Fong Natalie Chun Min Fong

62 Lonely Hearts of the Animal Kingdom Tessa Bagshaw

64 The Cherryman: The Day of Grey Mourning Lee Perkins

66 Rain

Pavani Ambagahawattha

41 Feature Art

67 Fruit Fly Aspirations

42 Twenties in the 21st Century Friend is a four letter word

68 Auspicious Flickers

Stephanie Mortlock

Elmira C.

44 Badass Women: Noor Inayat Khan Sunnie Meg

46 The Melbourne School of Design vs Union House Sidonie Bird de la Coeur

Marija Mrvosevic

Jean Baulch

69 soliders

Wen Yee Ang

70 Hot Air Balloon Jamisyn Gleeson

71 Ruby

Shaira Afrida Oyshee

72 bitter dust

Jennifer Chance

48 Autum Feast

73 Hum, thrum

50 The Tyranny of Sportsmanship

74 Red Liquorice

22 Feature Art

52 Running Our of Time

75 How I Would Like to Believe in Tenderness

23 Feature Art

53 Feature Art

76 Egyptian Studies

24 My favourite Book is the Virgin Suicides

54 The Other Theory of Evolution: Expanding, Shringking Earth

77 Isolation

Charlotte Armstrong

21 Extension Email Gets Extistential Rebecca Fletcher Emily White

Mollie Wilson

Nicole Moore

25 and much besides, your life depends on it Birdy Carmen

26 A Sex and Dating Guide During COVID-19 A’bidah Zaid Shirbeeni

Wendy Lin

Anthony Jenkins

Gabbi Lobo

Emily White

Tessa Marshall

56 Australians All Let Us Rejoice: A Reflection on the Birds and the Heart of Our Country Glenda Lu

Correction Notice Edition Two Credit to Phoebe Edwards as contributor

Illustrated by

by Alice Alice Tai Tai Illustrated

Mae Horsley

Phoebe Edwards

Birdy Carmen Felicity Smith

Rose Gertsakis

78 Paralysis By Analysis, the Terrifying: Freedom of a University Student Alexander Oswald

80 Flash Fiction: About Time Assorted authors

81 Radio Fodder Playlist Radio Fodder Music Team

EDITORIAL EDITORIAL

Bethany Cherry The world has become overwhelming. Our lives have become numbers, names have become movements, and reminders of how ‘well’ everyone else is handling this pandemic are being projected all over the walls like trophies. I want an honest conversation about how unhealthy this is. The inclination of the human is to connect, something social networks like Facebook and Instagram have capitalized on. But in our search for stability, normality and control, are we losing touch with happiness and fulfillment? Are we harming others? Are we forgetting to take moments for ourselves, when all we do is compare and share? Test this theory. The next beautiful thing you see (hint: you’re holding it in your hands), look only for yourself. Let’s start living.

Amber Meyer Mentions of white supremacy and police brutality. Cultural warning for First Nations deaths in custody.

Since the Bla(c)k Lives Matter rallies in Australia, the number of Aboriginal deaths in custody since the Royal Commission’s 1991 report has grown from 432 to 438. Our institutions are founded on white supremacy; police brutality is upheld through the lack of accountability for cops that murder. So, we must keep fighting. A non-exhaustive list of organisations to support: Warriors of the Aboriginal Resistance, The Healing Foundation, Pay The Rent Grassroots Collective, The Aboriginal Legal Service (NSW/ACT), Sisters Inside. Please donate to campaigns including Justice for David Dungay Jr., Justice for Joyce Clarke, Justice for Kumanjayi Walker, Justice for Tane Chatfield, Justice for Tanya Day. Sarah Peters Print media can perpetuate canons of silence as we try to cover every news event occurring.

With limited print editions, we will not catch everything and hope our online content has reached you. But still, it is our responsibility to give spaces to all students. It is my responsibility to use my privilege as a white editor to amplify voices of colour and make spaces accessible.

What can you do to do your part? I recommend supporting organisations like Black Rainbow, Indigenous Literacy Foundation, Magabala Books and Djirra. Please note that these websites have attributable content and cultural warnings.

Tharidi Walimunige Like many years before it, 2020 has pushed humanity to the extremes and roused outcries for change. Interwoven throughout such conflicts is the media. Influencing and proliferating opinions, the media can turn tides. In deciding what deserves to be inked permanently and distributed to the masses, I’ve learnt a valuable lesson — before putting fingers to keyboard, ask yourself: ‘Am I the best person to be telling this story?’ Lived experience makes all the difference. As we at Farrago reflect on privilege, positionality and publication, I hope you consider when and how best to use your voice. Reader, language is power.

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SECTION TEXT

AUGUST MONDAY 3

Queer x Disabilities Zoom Collective 12pm Bike Collective 9am

Enviro Collective 12pm Trans Collective 2pm

TUESDAY 4

WEDNESDAY 5 Queer Collective 1-2pm

QPOC Collective 12pm Christian Union International 6pm

MONDAY 10

TUESDAY 11

WEDNESDAY 12

THURSDAY 13

Queer x Disabilities Zoom Collective 12pm Bike Collective 9am

Enviro Collective 12pm Trans Collective 2pm

Queer Collective 1-2pm

THURSDAY 6

Climate Action Collective 12pm (SouthBank) QPOC Collective 12pm

FRIDAY 7

First Nations & POC in Media Collective Creative Arts Collective 3pm

FRIDAY 14

UMSU Election Nominations close

FRIDAY 22

MONDAY 17

TUESDAY 18

WEDNESDAY 19

THURSDAY 20 QPOC Collective 12pm Christian Union International 6pm

First Nations & POC in Media Collective Creative Arts Collective 3pm

MONDAY 24

TUESDAY 25

WEDNESDAY 26

THURSDAY 27

FRIDAY 28

Queer x Disabilities Zoom Collective 12pm Bike Collective 9am

Queer x Disabilities Zoom Collective 12pm Bike Collective 9am

Enviro Collective 12pm Trans Collective 2pm

Enviro Collective 12pm Trans Collective 2pm

Queer Collective 1-2pm

Queer Collective 1-2pm

Climate Action Collective 12pm (SouthBank) QPOC Collective 12pm

FRIDAY 21

Creative Arts Collective 3pm

SECTION TEXT

SEPTEMBER MONDAY 31

Queer x Disabilities Zoom Collective 12pm Bike Collective 9am

MONDAY 7

FRIDAY 4

TUESDAY1

WEDNESDAY 2 Queer Collective 1-2pm

QPOC Collective 12pm Christian Union International 6pm

First Nations & POC in Media Collective

TUESDAY 8

WEDNESDAY 9

THURSDAY 10

FRIDAY 11

Enviro Collective 12pm Trans Collective 2pm

THURSDAY 3

UMSU Eections Queer x Disabilities Zoom Collective 12pm Bike ColUMive 9am

UMSU Eections Enviro Collective 12pm Trans Collective 2pm

MONDAY 14

TUESDAY 15

WEDNESDAY 16

THURSDAY 17 QPOC Collective 12pm Christian Union International 6pm

First Nations & POC in Media Collective

MONDAY 21

TUESDAY 22

WEDNESDAY 23

THURSDAY 24

FRIDAY 25

Queer x Disabilities Zoom Collective 12pm Bike Collective 9am

Queer x Disabilities Zoom Collective 12pm Bike Collective 9am

Enviro Collective 12pm Trans Collective 2pm

Enviro Collective 12pm Trans Collective 2pm

UMSU Eections Queer Collective 1-2pm

Queer Collective 1-2pm

Queer Collective 1-2pm

Illustrated by Zino Feng

UMSU Eections Climate Action Collective 12pm QPOC Collective 12pm

Climate Action Collective 12pm (SouthBank) QPOC Collective 12pm

Collective 3pm

FRIDAY 18

Creative Arts Collective 3pm

OB REPORTS

President | Hannah Buchan

Hey all you zoomers! It’s been an incredibly intense and weird time over these past few months and I hope everyone has been holding up. UMSU has been super busy in our response to COVID-19, and we have been advocating for a lot of student issues. We have been running campaigns about WAM, fee remission and financial support, and have seen a lot of action on issues that affect students. We will continue to campaign for accessible education and oppose any cuts to our courses. Check out the UMSU Facebook page for more information about getting involved in our campaigns!

General Secretary | Jack Buksh

What a semester it has been. COVID-19 has presented all of us with new challenges, especially when it comes to our semester at uni. What it has shown us is that the University does not always have students’ interests at heart, and its bureaucratic structures result in an organisation that is unable to adapt and change. UMSU has spent the semester ensuring that no student is left behind, as well as advocating for changes to University policy. Thanks to students getting behind us, we’ve had some really great wins. But one thing is clear — it’s not over, and there will be a lot more work to do next semester.

Clubs and Societies | Jordan Di Natale

Even though COVID-19 has put a halt on in-person events, it hasn’t stopped clubs doing what clubs love: connecting with students and creating a fun atmosphere for all! There have been many online club events – from study groups to online trivia! Every club has done an amazing job under these circumstances this semester! I’m so proud of them!! The C&S have been keeping busy during this time with the University Mental Health Day, the online virtual campus, planning Clubs Council and creating sustainable club environments with the help of UMSU Enviro! KEEP BEING SUPERSTARS!!!

Creative Arts | Emily White and Olivia Bell

We may be stuck at home but we are still making art! That’s why we launched the At Home Arts Festival — a digital space for finding community and sharing your art in the midst of a pandemic. If the pandemic is still going, then the festival is still going, so check out athomeartsfestival.com/submit. We have also been running the Creative Arts Collective online because we’re Zoom masters by now. Stay safe, stay sane, and keep making art!

Education Academic | Joshua Munro and Georgia Walton Briggs

Education Academic has been busy as a feasting feline this semester, advocating for students affected by bushfires and the maladapted mess that was the timetabling system. As the plague has brought the end of days, the Department has fiercely fought against the calamitous Cadmus for fairer WAM and a system that leaves no student behind. With the ever-affable UMSU Advocacy we have finished the semester by advocating for the fair treatment of students in exams; so if you feel that you have been disadvantaged by your online exam, get in touch.

Education Public | Charlie Joyce and Noni Bridger

EdPub has been very busy adjusting to Corona World. We’ve had to cancel heaps of exciting events we had coming up, including EdFest and Surge Camp. Even still, this pales in comparison with what heaps of students are going through: being stuck overseas or interstate, losing work or even getting sick. We’re working with the rest of UMSU to make sure your union is here for you in these times, giving you the support that you need. We’re also working with the NUS and Education Officers around the country to make sure that students are looked after by our governments and universities. Yours in solidarity, Charlie and Noni xx

Burnley | Kaitlyn Hammond

We hope you are well and enjoying the chance to catch up with friends and spend time outside! I don’t know about you, but we are definitely missing our walks through the Burnley Gardens and the happy hum of activity at Burnley campus. Be sure to check out the awesome virtual activities put on by the many UMSU groups to let off some steam between study sessions! Keep a look out for new Burnley events by following us on social media!

Facebook: /burnleystudentassociation Instagram: @umsuburnley

Disabilities | Hue Man Dang and Srishti Chatterjee

If you haven’t already, now is the time to join our Discord chat channels, as well as our online collectives. The Disabilities Space may not be accessible, but we will always strive to create a supportive space online to make up for all of the missed opportunities. We’re looking to organise a variety of workshops and support groups online as well. If you’re facing any issues or need some peer support and connection (even if that is someone to drink tea or study with), please don’t hesitate to contact us via email or through our socials. We’re here to support you!

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Indigenous | Hope Kuchel & Shanysa McConville

People of Colour | Gurpreet Singh & Nicole Nabbout

Over the past few weeks we’ve been engaging with online campaigns, particularly with the trade union movement’s campaign to extend JobSeeker, the student union’s WAM and fee refunds campaign and our own campaign to get the University to acknowledge the racist attack on two students. We have also been in touch with the CAPS team around increased PoC representation in campus services. We’ve also created an online interactive Padlet that provides an autonomous space for students to share advice on self-care. Although online political organising has been a challenge, we hope we have adapted to provide safe spaces for students.

OB REPORTS

Since moving online, UMSU Indigenous has tried to keep the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander student cohort informed and engaged. With Murrup Barak providing academic support, we have focused on providing social events to allow people to catch up and have fun! On Zoom, we hosted a Trivia Night and an Art & Wine Night, where students were asked to recreate a classic artwork, with prizes awarded for the most accurate and the most creative. We also promoted ‘Move It May’, an initiative to keep all students engaged in exercise and caring for their bodies and minds during the COVID-19 crisis.

Activities | India Pinkney and Hayley Stanford

Hi again! We hope everyone has been keeping safe at home. The Activities Department has been very busy the last couple of months. We have resumed our traditional Tuesday bands, this time live from their home to yours! We have had a number of great acts performing including Georgia Maq and Eliza & The Delusionals! The Activities Department has a bunch of exciting events coming up for you in Semester 2, whether they be online or in person.

So make sure you watch this space and check out our Facebook page to stay updated!

Queer | Ciara O’Sullivan and A’bidah Zaid Shirbeeni

Adapting to online collectives has been a challenge, but thanks to everyone who came! The amount of time we’ve lost to Animal Crossing is embarrassing and we’re hoping everyone is staying safe and taking care! Here’s to better, fun, queer times in the future.

Southbank | Verity Crane and Hayden Williams

Did you know dance students are the only students at UniMelb who aren’t covered by insurance? Why would this be? Among other things, we have been working with dance students who remain dissatisfied about course fees. At a meeting with the Head of Dance, cohort reps were essentially gaslit, being told they were ‘mistaken’ about the issues they face. We love working with the dance cohort. They have a deep sense of community and an incredible understanding of embodiment. A win for dancers will necessarily affect the Uni’s approach to fee relief for other cohorts.

Welfare | Natasha Guglielmino

Hey everyone <3 We hope you are safe and well and have been able to enjoy the semester despite the recent challenges. We have tried our best to bring our events online where possible. It has been a pleasure to bring you our first ever online Stress Less Week! We hope you enjoyed our yoga and Pilates classes, online breakfast, virtual penpals and workshops with the Creative Arts and Environment Departments and CAPS. Congrats on making it through a tough semester. We wish you the best of luck for exams, you can do this! xx

Women | Aria Sunga and Naomi Smith

We have set up an UMSU Sexual Harassment and Assault Working Group to strengthen our Safety on Campus campaign — check out our website to find out more! Thanks to everyone who came to our Safety on Campus campaign workshops — we’re definitely holding more of these in the future. Our giveaways this semester have been really successful, and congratulations to all of the winners. During the break, don’t forget to submit a piece of writing or some art for Judy’s Punch. We wish you all the best during this exam period, and see you in Semester 2!

Environment | Olivia Sullivan and Sophie Kerrigan

We hope everyone’s exams are going as well as they can and that everyone is staying safe and healthy. We’re really passionate about the University divesting from fossil fuels and other unethical industries. If you’re interested in getting involved in our campaign for divestment, or finding out more about this issue, check out our Facebook and come along to a Divestment 101 event. In Semester 2 we’ll be running a Radical Education Week; if you’re interested in running or attending a workshop, stay tuned to our social media. We’re also starting a volunteering program, so if you’re interested in volunteering opportunities, check that out!

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NEWS

UMSU UPDATES Written by Jack

W

elcome to Semester 2! Semester 1 sure wasn’t easy for anyone, and with COVID-19 worsening in Victoria and around the globe, it won’t be getting much easier for Semester 2. All of your student reps have been working really hard to make sure that your time at Uni is a bit easier – drop us a line if we can do anything! Here’s some of what has been happening since the last edition of Farrago.

UMSU was able to secure some big changes to University policy early on. Of these, most known were the changes to how WAM calculations are made this semester. WAM and study changes were some of the biggest concerns as students indicated that they would not be able to study as effectively during isolation.

The University was quick to dismiss this as an issue, so we launched a campaign. With 14,000 signatures and a number of emails direct to the vice-chancellor, students secured a win alongside UMSU. It was as a result of students coming together that we were able to secure this win for students. Further, we got the University to push back the census date, allowing students to make an informed decision about their enrolment: made changes to the special consideration process, allowing a statutory declaration form to replace doctors’ certificates, as well as following up on specific faculty and subject issues raised by the hundreds of students contacting the advocacy service.

We got the University to introduce the ongoing ‘Emergency Support Fund’, which would provide students with financial support if they were impacted.

It is really important that the University financially supports students who have lost their income as a result of COVID-19 as international students and some domestic students cannot access government support payments.

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Buksh

While we were greatly supportive of the initiative at first, over time we have seen that it has been ineffective, over-bureaucratised and does not deliver real solutions for students. It is, unfortunately, part of a greater theme we are seeing at the University – one of austerity and not putting students first.

Fee remission has also been a key concern for students. Sadly our campaign for this did not result in any change from the University - even after we provided them with the testimonials of over 6000 students outlining why they want fee remission.

While the University is refusing to budge, UMSU is now assisting various student cohorts in taking up formal grievances with the University in order to address this issue.

Social distancing measures continue to change with the tightening and reducing of restrictions.

However, UMSU thinks there is a real opportunity for the University to embrace better approaches to accessibility, and we will keep fighting for this.

COVID-19 is not over and its impacts will continue into next semester. Students now, more than ever, are struggling and institutions need to step up. UMSU encourages you to contact your student representatives directly or join an UMSU Students’ Council meeting to have your voice heard.

Until next time, take care.

Illustrated

by Abir by Hiranandani Illustrated Name

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NEWS

UNIVERSITY OF MELBOURNE FOSSIL FUEL TIES RUN DEEP Written by Finley

Tobin and Ailish Hallinan

After years of campaigns calling for a transition away

from the fossil fuel industry, the University of Melbourne continues to foster ties with the world’s largest carbon emitters, including Saudi Aramco and ExxonMobil.

This comes despite the University’s claim in its 2030 Strategy Discussion Paper that “The University of Melbourne will be known by the company it keeps as much as by what it accomplishes.”

Last year, the Climate Accountability Institute, a leading authority on the fossil fuel industry’s contributions to climate change, published their list of the top 20 carbon and methane emitting coal, oil, and gas companies. The Saudi Arabian Oil Company (Saudi Aramco) came in at number one, producing over 59 billion tonnes of CO2 equivalent between 1965 and 2017.

Until recently, Saudi Aramco was privately owned by the Saudi Arabian government, which was accused in 2015 of obstructing the Paris Climate Summit to protect the value of its oil assets. Saudi Arabia also has a history of human rights abuses, including the alleged murder of author Jamal Khashoggi in 2018, and the arrest and alleged torture of women’s rights activists in the same year.

In December last year, Saudi Aramco became a publicly owned company with an initial valuation of nearly $2 trillion, making it the most valuable listed company in history. According to a University of Melbourne staff member, who wished to remain anonymous, Saudi Aramco approached the University last year and requested that the Master of Data Science course be taught to its employees.

A University spokesperson confirmed this, telling Farrago, “Last year, [the] Faculty of Science and Melbourne School of Engineering were presented with an opportunity to teach the Masters of Data Science course to Saudi Aramco employees and declined the opportunity.”

Although the Faculty of Science and School of Engineering declined the offer from Saudi Aramco, documents obtained by Farrago suggest that the University engaged with the company to determine the details of the proposed arrangement. At a School of Mathematics and Statistics meeting in June 2019, a member of the University’s Research, Innovation and Commercialisation (RIC) wing presented details of the arrangement.

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According to the meeting minutes, the proposal entailed “a duplicate of the Masters of Data Science program delivered as a 2 year program.”

The presenter said, “RIC are investigating the possibilities and ascertaining interest in going to Saudi to deliver face-to-face units.” Farrago understands that some members of the School raised concerns with the proposal at the School of Mathematics and Statistics meeting.

In an email to School of Mathematics and Statistics staff, Head of School Jan de Gier provided further details of the proposal, writing, “Other than online delivery this would also involve lecturing in Saudi Arabia for two blocks of four days over weekends (Fri-Mon).”

De Gier conceded that “The University very much acknowledges that there are several non-trivial issues associated to this proposal that need to be mitigated.”

The University did not respond to Farrago’s request for comment on whether it deemed it appropriate to engage with Saudi Aramco—which was owned by the Saudi Arabian government at the time of the proposal—given Saudi Arabia’s environmental record and history of human rights abuses.

Concerns about the University’s ties to the fossil fuel industry extend beyond those held about Saudi Aramco.

In 2018, Kimberley Reid, a PhD candidate at the University’s School of Earth Sciences, saw posters around the School advertising graduate positions at ExxonMobil.

Reid learnt that the School allowed ExxonMobil to conduct interviews of graduates on campus. She sent an email to the School in March 2018 expressing her concerns about “endorsing and providing a platform for the fossil fuel industry, especially companies with known links to climate denial campaigns.” After receiving support from several students and staff, Reid sent another email to the School with a link to an anonymous poll, asking, “Should the School host fossil fuel companies?”

A senior lecturer from the School replied to the email, calling Reid’s suggestion of a poll “nothing but divisive and unhelpful.”

“For your stats, please count me as one who was unhappy with your communications and your sentiments regarding recent recruitment visits in the school,” the senior lecturer said.

In another reply to Reid’s email, the Head of School of Earth Sciences David Phillips defended the hosting of Exxon.

“As a School of learning, research and engagement within the University, we value academic freedom, respectful debate and freedom of choice,” Phillips wrote.

In 2019, the same posters went up around the School.

This time, Reid put her own posters next to the ExxonMobil advertisements, including excerpts from ExxonMobil’s 2019 Energy Outlook, in which the company outlines its plan to continue mining oil and natural gas as far into the future as 2040. Reid believes that the School of Earth Sciences will continue to support ExxonMobil’s recruitment drives.

“ExxonMobil will visit again to recruit, while down the hallway, climate scientists will be working on studies to understand how flooding and fires are getting worse under climate change, and how limiting warming to 1.5 degrees, and avoiding more dangerous climate change is impossible if we keep burning coal and other non-renewables,” she said.

Phillips still believes in hosting ExxonMobil at the School of Earth Sciences. He told Farrago, “We don’t have a lot of opportunities to engage with ExxonMobil.

If we said ‘OK, you can’t come on campus’, you know they would simply conduct interviews at their offices and we would lose the opportunity.”

“It’s not that we condone anything that ExxonMobil does, or many other companies for that matter, it’s keeping the communication lines open.”

Phillips said that the University is also taking a careful approach to divesting from fossil fuel assets.

“Across the University, there’s no doubting that [climate change] is a crisis, but the debate is about ‘OK, how do we deal with it, what’s the best approach.’”

According to the 2017–2020 Sustainability Plan, the University invests part of its $2 billion portfolio into Carbon Underground 200 (CU200) companies, which are the 200 biggest publicly-listed coal, oil, and gas companies.

The CU200 includes ExxonMobil, Adani Enterprises, BP, Chevron, and Shell. The Sustainability Plan rules out a strict divestment strategy, saying, “investing in climate solutions will have a greater and more positive impact on future generations than simply exiting fossil fuel holdings.”

Instead, the plan sets a target to “have divested from, or be in the process of divesting from within a reasonable period” any investments that do not comply with the University’s Sustainable Investment Framework (SIF) by 2021.

In the SIF, the University doubles down on an anti-divestment approach, saying it “does not believe that a strict exclusion (or divestment) approach is the most effective way for it to meet its fiduciary duty in regard to climate change risk, nor to drive progress on climate change mitigation.”

Last year, the annual Sustainability Report assured students that the targets set by the Sustainability Plan were “on track”, citing consulting firm Mercer’s assessment of a “strong alignment” between the University’s fund manager and the SIF. The University did not respond to Farrago’s request for updated details on their holdings in CU200 companies. A long-running campaign calling for the University to enact a more decisive and transparent divestment strategy has been ultimately unsuccessful.

Student-run Fossil Free Melbourne University (FFMU) began campaigning in 2013 and is responsible for protests such as Drop Your Ass-ets and the blockade of the Raymond Priestley building.

However, the group has been inactive since April 2018, around the time that the SIF was released. At the time, the FFMU stated, “The lack of consultation and commitment to future divestment is a betrayal of trust with the staff, students, and members of the community.”

Former FFMU member Zeb Peake partly attributes the decline of the group to the release of the SIF. “We didn’t really know how to approach pushing the Uni further on it,” Peake said. “They do mention climate change as a problem, but a lot of the language they use around investments is about climate change risk to investments.”

“It’s very financial-speak and it’s avoiding the moral issue of whether we should invest in these companies,” she said. The University is set to release its annual Sustainability Report in the coming weeks, which will include an update on the progress of the SIF. This piece was published online on May 6 2020 and has been shortened for print. The full version is available online.

Illustrated by Michelle Pham

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NEWS

UMSU ELECTION ENGAGEMENT Written by Jasper

The University of Melbourne Student Union

(UMSU) elections in Semester Two of each year generates polarising views. Student representatives ardently campaign for the value of UMSU, in the attempt to convince students to vote. Some students are apathetic, choosing not to be involved. Others actively dislike the process, choosing not to attend campus during election week to avoid being badgered by campaigners.

It is unclear, however, how effective UMSU’s elections have been at delivering a representative voice for the student body. This piece tracks UMSU’s voting record and compares it to other universities across the country. Additionally, the causes and effects of relatively low voter turnout will be analysed. This piece will conclude by suggesting a series of ideas about how to increase turnout going forward.

MacCuspie

The most recent data possible has been sourced, however, not all elections presented are from the same year, and are indicated as such. To account for this, a five-year average has been drawn from the University of Melbourne’s participation rate.

This data was sourced from publicly disclosed information, and relevant student unions.

Voter Participation Rates The table below shows the turnout figures for the past 5 years of UMSU elections.

*Official University enrolment figures for 2019 not yet published

What can be seen from this data is despite a steady increase in students, voter participation has declined - both in raw votes, and as a percentage of eligible students, year-on-year since 2016.

The next table compares the University of Melbourne’s election turnout with other universities around the country.

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It is important to note from the outset that different institutions conduct elections in different fashions, with different rules in place. As such, the strict comparisons that can be drawn are limited.

Nonetheless, it is concerning to note that participation in student elections nationwide is relatively low, highlighting that this is a problem not specific to the University of Melbourne nor UMSU. However, it is notable that the University of Melbourne ranks third-last of the surveyed institutions.

This may indicate that the nationwide problem is more pronounced here.

UMSU President, Hannah Buchan, acknowledged that this is a matter of grave concern.

“Of course, it is concerning that many people do not see the value in voting in the UMSU elections,” she said.

“I would like to see voter turnout go up so more people can get involved with UMSU.”

Causes of Low Turnout It is important to identify which factors are inhibiting participation. There are a number of reasons that students may choose not to vote in elections.

Buchan notes that the first of these may be constitutional limitations.

“It is part of UMSU’s constitution that we have to have a physical ballot”, she said.

“I am aware that other universities use incentives to increase voter turnout, such as a voucher or a sticker which tell campaigners that a student voted.

We cannot use incentives at Melbourne.”

The election process, as well as the role that UMSU plays in broader university life, can be confusing for those not actively involved in it. This is particularly relevant for first year students, who may be put off by the intensity of the process.

Tessa Gould, who subsequently ran for the Women’s Office Bearer portfolio in 2017, and is currently standing for election as a councillor on the Graduate Student’s Association, did not engage in her first year at the University.

“I didn’t vote in my first year of uni. I just didn’t really understand what it was all about and was a bit intimidated and confused by all the coloured t-shirts,” she said.

Buchan recognised these concerns.

“A lot of people don’t know what UMSU does and they therefore don’t see a need to vote in the elections,” she said. Another common concern for students are campaigners being overly forthright, disincentivising students from engaging in the election.

Masters of Marketing Communication student, Mayank Gurnani, felt such pressure.

“I was bombarded with volunteers during election time, but literally no one, and I mean no one, spoke to me about what their respective parties/candidates would do if elected,” he said.

“They all seem to just be in a hurry to drag me to the nearest polling locations, and often while I was speaking to the volunteers of a specific party, others would just hover around and make us both extremely uncomfortable.”

Buchan acknowledged the issues raised by campaigning, noting that it “can also get quite hostile”.

Effects of Low Turnout The primary effect of low voter turnout is a perceived decrease in the legitimacy of UMSU as a representative body. When only 5.5% of students vote for a body that is designed to represent them all (as was the case in 2019), that role is inherently undermined. Buchan, however, disagrees with this analysis.

“UMSU is still representative of the student body,” she said.

“Every office bearer works extremely hard to do what’s best for students.”

“All of UMSU’s decision making processes are open to all students, regardless of if they voted in the election or not.” One other impact of the low turnout is the difficulty in justifying the expense of running the election in its current format. The 2019 UMSU budget revealed that the election cost $105,000 dollars to operate. With voter numbers under 3000, this raises the question as to whether the money is well spent, considering that this is at least partially funded by the Student Services and Amenities Fee. Possible Changes for the Future If UMSU wishes to improve voter participation in the future, there are a number of potential actions it could take. Changes to the election process would require constitutional amendments for UMSU, which itself is a complex process, but is likely to be worthwhile. A similar approach to the University’s Graduate Student Association (GSA) might be taken, whereby annual elections are conducted entirely online.

In 2018, the GSA received 4,379 votes out of 25,994 students enrolled in postgraduate coursework and research, at a participation rate of 16.85%.

Above Quota Elections have made a series of suggestions to UMSU, according to Luntz, about how election turnout might be increased.

“AQE have suggested amalgamating some of the committees and scrapping some of the representatives on council,” he said. “This idea has not been taken up.”

Circumstances may yet result in UMSU being forced to make changes, with the ongoing COVID-19 crisis perhaps necessitating alternatives to in person voting. However, the crisis has led to an unprecedented level of student engagement in UMSU campaigns.

“I think there will certainly be increased student engagement in elections going forward,” Buchan predicted.

“We are currently seeking legal advice about what can be done about the elections this year, but we don’t have anything concrete,” she said.

Buchan committed that UMSU would continue reaching out to students to promote the importance of the election. She stated that this would be more successful than previous attempts due to the room to engage students on a diverse range of platforms.

What this outreach will look like remains to be seen. Whether election turnout is different this year, as well as what actions UMSU takes to address this problem will be followed up by Farrago.

*This is an incomplete version of this story, edited for print. The full version is available online.

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NEWS

BIKE COLLECTIVE CYCLING ON Written by Sarah

Two years after its original shutdown, the University

of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU) Bike Collective was re-opened to students on 16 March 2020. UMSU Environment Officers Sophie Kerrigan and Olivia Sullivan marked the occasion with a BBQ breakfast, which they told Farrago was a success.

The Bike Collective has had a rocky history. The collective was initially re-opened in July 2019 as the Bike Co-Op, however, they experienced difficulties in staying open on a regular basis.

Despite last year’s mishaps, Kerrigan and Sullivan believe that they can get the collective up and running again.

“There was a core group of volunteers that was established after last year’s reopening and many of them have returned to volunteer this year. This year we’re focused on increasing the number of volunteers we have and with that, increasing our capacity to serve students,” Kerrigan said.

The success of the 2020 Grand (re)Opening, however, could not have predicted the changes to the University in late March.

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Peters

Days afterwards, the Bike Collective was forced to close as a result of COVID-19 restrictions and mandated shutdowns.

Kerrigan and Sullivan are determined to continue the collective as best they can. On their Facebook page, the Melbourne Uni Bike Collective, the pair have shared a Google Form to continue their services online.

A Facebook post read: “Although our doors will be closed for walk-ins we want to continue to provide services for those who need them where possible. If you are having trouble with your bike please fill in the form below and we will be in contact as soon as possible to arrange a video call diagnosis and guide you through fixes if possible.”

Kerrigan indicates that whilst the Bike Collective and general repair inquiries have declined, students are still encouraged to message their Facebook page with questions.

Despite its struggles to remain open, the Bike Collective rolls on as Kerrigan and Sullivan hope to build their community further in Semester 2 with online collectives.

Illustrated by Phuong Ngo

CONTENT WARNING: COVID-19, racism, physical and verbal assault SECTION TEXT

Written by Stephanie

NEWS

INTERNATIONAL STUDENTS BASHED IN THE MELBOURNE CBD Zhang

Two international students were assaulted in a

racially motivated attack in the Melbourne CBD on 15 April.

The incident occurred at approximately 5:30PM on Wednesday, when C and S* were walking down Elizabeth Street and saw two caucasian women shouting “coronavirus” and “get out of the country” to other Asian pedestrians. The students, studying at the University of Melbourne, recounted to Farrago that the women began directing their verbal abuse at them when they made eye contact. They tried to walk away but the altercation became physical after one of the women said, “I’m going to kill you”.

“She grabbed something and threw it at [C]’s head,” S said, and claimed that the woman’s friend blocked her from helping C. The assailant grabbed C’s head and repeatedly punched and kicked, as shown in a video that later emerged online, filmed by a witness. “[C] and I are both really scared to go outside,” S told Farrago, and C described the incident as “traumatizing”.

They said they were subject to several instances of verbal abuse in the past month. C said she wanted to speak out this time but did not expect to be assaulted in broad daylight. The pair reported the incident to Victoria Police, and wanted to share the video so that the women can be caught.

“This could happen to anyone,” C said, “If they’re not caught, they think it’s fine for them to do this to other people, but other people might not be lucky enough to have someone film it at that moment, and it might end up worse for them.”

“It’s not okay for you to use the virus to take out your hatred towards Asians.

Vice-Chancellor Duncan Maskell said in a media statement, “This is a disgusting and unprovoked attack on two of our female students. There is no place for violence in a modern, future-facing society like Australia. These senseless and vicious attacks on two young women must never be tolerated in our community. The people who did this are a disgrace.”

There has been an increase of anti-Asian hate crimes around the world. The Guardian reported that a survey of COVID-19 racism against Asian Australians recorded 178 incidents in the last two weeks. Last month, a 17-year-old girl was arrested for a “racist spitting attack” in Marrickville. *Names have been removed for confidentiality reasons.

Photography by Kashish Sandhu

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NEWS

COVID-19 UPDATES & NEWS Uni Response to Coronavirus Shocks Chinese International Students Brief shorts from Farrago News coverage of COVID-19

MORE ON THE UNIVERISTY OF MELBOURNE

Written by Allen Xiao and Wing Kuang

The announcement, which was also circulated via the vice-chancellor’s email on 3 February, indicated that no disruptions to the usual summer term and semester one schedules would occur.

It indicated that the University was providing “ongoing advice and support to students and staff ”.

“Summer examinations are proceeding as scheduled from 17 February, orientation activities will commence on 24 February and semester one will commence on 2 March as planned,” the announcement read.

Several Chinese graduate students told Farrago about their disappointment in the University’s decision. Chen, who was a postgraduate student, noted that the travel ban has already affected their ability to resume their internship and apply for graduate roles.

They were also angered at the lack of targeted assistance from the University; the consequences of remaining in China include visa delays and inability to find accommodation.

Published 6 February 2020. Read more online for information on how travel restrictions began and the responses of UMSU.

COVID-19 Welfare Explainer

COVID-19: International Students Written by John Smith and John Smith (2)

(1)

The campus should close for the safety of all students and staff. But, we ask that the University make the necessary accommodations that would be equitable for ALL students moving forward. Suggestions that international students should “defer” or “withdraw” seem like attempts to stall for a feasible solution.

Everything’s defer, defer, defer. The University’s approach is, “We’ll deal with it when we get to it”, although international students don’t have the luxury of time.

We also want to emphasise the burden that has become the responsibility of our teaching staff and subject coordinators. We are aware that the only reason they are offering us this advice is due to their genuine and understandable lack of preparation. Staff have had to deal with us case by case, making specialised accommodations where necessary.

But that’s just the thing. They had to be aware of our differing circumstances to adjust courses accordingly, with no guarantee of module safety. They often seem just as lost as us.

Published 30 March 2020. Read the full article online for more on visas, price differences in tuition and useful sources for international students.

Written by Stephanie Zhang and Angus Thomson

Over the past month, the Australian Government has announced a range of unprecedented spending measures aimed at minimising the economic impact of the pandemic on individuals, businesses and the economy.

The Government is expected to spend $192 billion – around $7,600 per Australian citizen – but, who does all this money go to? The Government believes the JobKeeper package could benefit up to 6 million workers – nearly half the total workforce. But it won’t help everyone, and the package has received criticism for not including support for 1.1 million casual workers and temporary visa holders. International students have also been calling for federal support.

Published 5 May 5 2020. Read the full article online for information on Centrelink payments, eligibility and International Student aid.

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UniMelb online learning transition leaves students and staff without support Written by Ashleigh

Barraclough

The University of Melbourne is transitioning away from face-to-face learning to prevent the further spread of COVID-19, but moving classes online is creating problems for students and staff.

On 16 March, the University announced lectures and tutorials with over 500 students were required to cease face-to-face teaching by the following day.

Classes with over 25 students but fewer than 500 will need to be online-only by 30 March.

The Faculty of Arts said all classes will go online by 23 March, regardless of numbers.

Published 20 March 2020. Read more online about the impact of online classes leaving students considering withdrawals and the initial maintenance of face-to-face classes.

Melbourne Law School’s Response to COVID-19 Written by Amber Meyer and Jasper MacCuspie

The Melbourne Law School has announced plans to make available recordings of all streams of compulsory subjects in response to growing concerns around COVID-19. An email sent this afternoon (March 12) informed all Juris Doctor students that this was a temporary response to what Associate Dean (JD) Arlen Duke called “challenging and ever-changing circumstances”.

This decision runs counter to the Law School’s established policy of not making recordings accessible, despite lobbying from student bodies. This includes campaigns from the University of Melbourne Student Union (UMSU).

In the email, Duke explained the reasoning behind the decision.

“We have decided to suspend this policy due to the exceptional, unprecedented and constantly evolving situation that has arisen because of COVID-19,” he said.

“We hope that doing so will allow students to comply with safe health practices and stay at home if they need to whilst not being penalised.”

However, Duke also stressed that this measure did not reflect a change in Law School policy.

Published 12 March 2020. Read more online for the changes made to the Law School’s lecture recording policies.

Students and Staff Critical of Residential Colleges’ Response to Coronavirus Written by Lucy

Turton

As of 27 March, the University of Melbourne reported that three students and four staff members had contracted coronavirus. All three of the students had recently returned from the United Kingdom and immediately self-isolated upon their return, the University’s statement said.

The University announced on Wednesday that it would be adjusting academic dates and extending the Semester One mid-semester break. It has officially advised students and staff to avoid coming to campus.

Published 1 April 2020. Read the full article online for more on student and staff experiences in their colleges as the changes in early March began.

Transitioning to Online Classes Leaving First-Year Students with a Memorable Start to Their Courses Written by Joanna

Guelas

I thought it would be hanging out on South Lawn between classes. Really, I thought it would be wearing my best high-waisted jeans across campus in the hopes of receiving a UniMelb Love Letter.

But, starting from 17 March, the University of Melbourne began its transition to a “virtual campus” in an effort to flatten the COVID-19 curve. With this shift to online learning, the University also introduced a new way of experiencing the university lifestyle to first-year students such as myself.

Each week brought a revised academic calendar, the tribulations of a silent Zoom tutorial, and a great sense of never knowing what’s next.

Who would’ve guessed an awkward tutorial could be even more painful online? It’s only eased by the comedy of neither you nor your tutor knowing what’s happening. In your first online tutorial, you will ask when the assignment will be due, and so your tutor will say it’s due in Week Four. The joke is that Week Four will be cancelled.

Published 10 April 2020. Read more online to understand the impact that online classes have had on first year students and opinions on the delayed action of universities.

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NEWS

EDUCATION SECTOR RESPONDS TO COVID-19 Written by Mark

Yin

Primary and secondary schools around Australia

have experienced a chaotic start to term two this year faced with conflicting advice from different levels of government.

In Victoria, Premier Daniel Andrews had initially been adamant that state schools would be closed for the entirety of term two, a position which had drawn criticism from federal Education Minister Dan Tehan.

Few other states have followed suit—Queensland and New South Wales, are planning to gradually reopen schools throughout the term, while South Australia is keeping schools open, but with attendance optional.

Tuesday’s announcement from Daniel Andrews, however, reflects an approach that is more consistent with the rest of the country. As of May 12th, Andrews announced that VCAL, VCE, Prep and grades 1 and 2 would return to the classroom on May 26th. Years 3 to 10 are expected to return from June 9th.

From the beginning however, the federal advice has been to reopen early, with the Morrison government offering independent and Catholic schools financial incentives to reopen by June. This is complicated by the nature of school administration in Australia—while state schools are run by state authorities, independent schools are funded by the federal government.

A University of Melbourne alumna currently teaching at a Victorian K-12 independent school Jacqui Lupton says, “Generally, I think that the [federal incentives] come across as a bit of a bribe, and I don’t think anybody’s happy with that.”

“The health and safety of staff and students is paramount, so if the medical advice of the state government is saying schools should stay out for term two, that’s what [independent school boards] will abide by.”

Current University of Melbourne students are also affected by the ambiguity, particularly students with children of their own. PhD candidate and the Graduate Student Association Families Officer Lubna Meempatta said, “The lockdown has definitely put us in a difficult position as we have to spend a lot of time home-schooling our kids while keeping up with our university studies.”

“Schools reopening will definitely help our families, but this should be done only when it is perfectly safe to do so, otherwise there will be so much stress and anxiety around the health and safety of our kids.”

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It remains to be seen whether changes in primary and secondary education will also affect the delivery of semester two for tertiary students. The University of Melbourne is “preparing for possible scenarios”, from full continuation of online learning, a resumption of in-person classes, or a mixed-mode delivery.

Besides this, the COVID-19 Emergency Support Fund will remain open until August 31 this year.

However, no concrete changes to Student Support (Financial Aid) or Counselling and Psychological Services capacity has been earmarked for certain as yet.

Other universities are also monitoring the situation as it develops, though some, such as Flinders University, are already planning to make semester two classes available online while others, such as Monash University, have delayed the start of next semester altogether. The University of Queensland has done both.

However, while semester two 2020 remains tentative, a delayed start to semester one 2021 appears likely in Victoria. Following the postponement of Year 12 exams to December 2020, the Andrews government has asked tertiary institutions across the state to adjust their academic calendars to accommodate this change. Swinburne University has announced a delayed 2021 commencement, as well as adjust their admissions procedures; however, other institutions are yet to follow suit.

Photography by Mingyu Tan

NEWS

Written by Joanna

“

Guelas

Share that laugh with us, whisper us that scandal.

”

Carefully filed within leather binders and wrapped

under plastic, these words belong to the inner pages of Farrago’s first edition, dating back to April 3, 1925.

Thus began the long history of students dictating their own narratives, amid ever-increasing tuition fees and changing course structures.

In the 95 years since, Farrago has been host to a plethora of news, prose, photographs, art and poetry.

Printed in every page is a detail of student life, whether it examines the chancellery actions taken by the University or a photo-by-photo crochet tutorial printed in technicolour.

“When researchers and others utilise Farrago as a resource … they are seeing and reading student history at its most raw, rough, hotly-debated and creative,” said Cilla Youl, Senior Library Officer and Archivist at the Rowden White Library.

“Collecting Farrago archives then gives tangible form to the past, present and occurring history of the student body and the University as a whole.”

Hence why the Library has dedicated itself to the upkeep of the Farrago archives, with the UMSU archive operating since 1993.

The archives are split into two sections. The publications made from the 1980s to the present day are to be found to the right of the library, past the out-of-order printer and up the stairs.

The sepia-paged editions dating back to the 1920s are tucked behind cardboard Tony Abbott, kept within a storeroom with only issues from 1951 missing. If anyone has any publications from 1951 lying at home, UMSU would be happy to complete the archive!

However, the UMSU archive is not limited to just collecting Farrago editions. It’s a wide collection of the collective student memory — anti-fee campaigns, budgets and picket signs.

“Collecting archives constructs the ‘memory’, or history if you like, of an organisation,” said Youl.

“Its purpose is to collect, preserve and make accessible to future generations material relating to the life and activity of students as it occurs in relation to the Student Union.”

It was because of the significant need for archiving that in late 2018, a project was launched to begin digitising the entire back catalogue of Farrago.

“In partnership with the Research and Collections Department and with the assistance of the amazing staff at the University Digitisation Centre, the slow but necessary process began of assessing each page for its suitability to be digitised,” said Youl.

“Without the work of the many student volunteers who willingly gave their time, this project would not have been able to move as swiftly as it did.”

But for now, should one ever wonder what filled the motley subjects of previous pages, it is to the Rowden White, amongst the comfort of beanbags, they should go. What awaits the eyes of readers post-coronavirus quarantine are love letters to coffee kiosks, hot takes on vice-chancellor resignations and comics.

“We are here to serve you! Won’t you help us?” ends the 1925 call for contributions. The editors today ask no less.

Illustrated by Arielle Vlahiotis

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SATIRE

PUBLISHERS PREPARING FOR POST-ISOLATION INUNDATION Written by

Charlotte Armstrong

Note: As this reporter has a personal vendetta against known pretentious wanker T.S. Eliot, all literary allusions will be explained in footnotes like so1.

P

ublishers globally are preparing for the true pandemic that will follow social isolation — the flood of vanity project2 novel drafts. With a deluge of unfettered hubris expected to hit submissions inboxes, publishing veterans have begun preparing the way they know best: stockpiling tea, chocolate and copious amounts of alcohol.

What drives someone into taking the dramatic and unnecessary step of attempting to write the next “bestselling” novel?

“I just thought the timing was right,” said a soggy croissant of a man, unprompted by anyone within the allotted safe social distance.

“This pandemic has truly taught me the limits of human suffering, and now I feel ready to create a masterpiece.”

When asked whether it was the massive loss of life, socioeconomic effects, or even emotional isolation that prompted this declaration, the pit-stain of humanity replied, “What are you on about? My Wi-Fi is down, so I’m embracing my Byronic3 En-noo-ee.”4 While creativity should always be supported, hesitant caution is offered to people who believe the only requirement of novel writing is being able to construct a sentence.

This sentiment is echoed in the editorial team’s howling at the sheer gusto it takes to believe that yet another novel about a newly-divorced man “finding himself ”, then marrying the character equivalent of a female cardboard cut-out is, by anyone’s standards, revolutionary. Publishers are hoping this epidemic of completely unwarranted chutzpah will spread beyond the printing press straight into the online realm, where they can go back to ignoring it.

BREAKING — It appears this epidemic of vanity projects is not limited to the written word, with music streaming services straining under the number of self-published artists releasing covers of songs, such as the 44,568,364,127th cover of Leonard Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’. More to follow.

1

2

3 4

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T.S. Eliot wrote The Waste Land, a bullshit poem whose primary purpose was to use a series of classist, elitist references to accuse the ‘lower classes’ of degrading society.

Audience members will be familiar with this concept if they have ever heard anyone in their life say meaningless blather like “Oh, I’d totally write a great novel if only I had the time” or “I’ve been working on a story that’ll put me up there with the greats” or the far more sinister “You sound just like a character for a novel I’m writing about a man’s journey to find himself ” as if the only prerequisite for sounding like a character from a novel is to express one opinion at any stage in your life.

Lord Byron is the father of Ada Lovelace, whose understanding of mathematics helped build the first computer. Oh, and Byron wrote some poetry.

Ennui (pronounced EHN-oui or AHN-oui) — a state of dramatic boredom and longing, such as staring into the fridge for the fifth time in a day waiting for new food to just manifest itself.

Illustration by Bethany Cherry

Written by Rebecca

U

SATIRE

EXTENSION EMAIL GETS EXISTENTIAL Fletcher

niversity of Melbourne student Martin Hoodwink has a problem. For three days he has been drafting an email asking his coordinator for an extension, and he’s still not done.

What started as a simple request has quickly grown into a complex ratio of urgency to email length, a balance that Martin has struggled to maintain.

“I thought it would be a quick two-liner,” he explained, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses.

“But that seemed too short when I was asking for an extension, so I wanted to make it a little bit more conversational.”

Evidently, things were not that simple.

“Everything I wrote felt wrong. If I sounded too relaxed, it didn’t make sense to be asking for an extension. I didn’t want to sound desperate either. I had to think of a reason for the extension that wasn’t too alarming, but convincing enough that they definitely wouldn’t say no.

“Then I realised that the closer it gets to the due date, the more compelling the reason needs to be,” Martin said, gesturing towards a large whiteboard covered in diagrams and arrows.

When asked how long he has left until the assignment is due, Martin grows visibly distressed.

“A week. A week! I’m not sure I’ll have it worked out by then.” As he wanders back to his board, he mutters, “Can you get an extension for an extension?”

An assignment outline rests on Martin’s desk, absolutely pristine. What is it that could be causing him such consternation? A 1000-word personal essay on how perfectionism can negatively impact productivity.

Perhaps we’ll never know.

Illustration by Lo Yuk Kei

21

NEWS 22 20

Art by Emily White

SECOND PLACE IN CREATIVE WITH COVID DRAWING Isolation

by Mollieby Wilson Illustration

23 21

THE MY FAVOURITE BOOK IS VIRGIN SUICIDES

SECTION CREATIVE TEXT

Written by Nicole

Moore

and how the men’s gaze cannot penetrate beyond the spectral glare of the girls’ skin despite their longing although, even now I won’t risk laying naked beneath the sheets. and you? sometimes I drink too much, and lay naked beneath the sheets and forget time has passed, my grief fermenting like an old cabbage, growing its own shrunken heads behind a display case I didn’t know you as a kid, but saw you piss the bed anyway behind glass, Fear is a pigeon spiked on a metronome An Old hand conducting over a shallow dish of saliva on the phone you said you couldn’t move for hours, the liquid was like amber preserve, our strange and viscous recipience to Manliness, to the enormous landscape we discover of our bodies when it’s done in Virgin suicides, the dead Lisbon girls are just simulacrums in the boys’ minds.

I stepped out once, leaving my double behind, a wide-eyed stillbirth pinned to the crux of a man’s chest, still blinkingfirst time we met you knew already something about how easy I got in cars, how I could respond to any name and thinking back to the night the sky opened its wet mouth and swallowed me, maybe I heard someone behind the trees whimpering too Terror I said into the receiver, the rusty needle of my tongue scraping the record, is a tiny milk dispersing on our lips, so might we hope only to rest a while before we kiss our children too so like the Lisbon girls wilting inside the vase of curtains we waited all summer in the curled ribcage of a deer halfway between your house and mine practising our smiles in winter, we made love on a pile of burning roses in my parents’ garage, like an American beauty sequel, where all the girls save each other and all the Dads waste their anger on walls and old crockery, instead of us we did many things, to wait even fell in love in unwanted re-enactment two friends in a toyota in the bushes with no underwear sucking the old man’s fat thumb, and kissing each other’s thighs, the spit trailing like a spider’s web of unlearning across our bodies

24

Illustrated by Cathy

and when we were done we loaded the rest of the condoms with the limited cargo of our mouths, and released them like missiles across the playground.

Chen

Written by

Birdy Carmen

danger wears a bolt purple dress he reads poems as bedtime stories to the children kneeled at his feet in bewildered woods widowed where he could have been jesus he borrows tongues like promises like weapons so to dance in dapples he doesn’t let me in i had seen him before in somebody else’s arms don’t tell me of romance, that slumbering beast whilst you caress the deer slung over your shoulder he is scarred from elbow to terrace his boots have spurs he screams when he runs with his slunken soul dragging behind claw marks in the wet soil he smells of your brother’s uncle fresh from a shower steamy like rice, and soup he taught me how to write how to steal words as prey why ants scatter in circles to brandish my urgency like the ripening plum enduring a simpson summer who were you to tell him of beauty and grace and pearls that blossom and a woman’s hip Cecil’s violent silence shatters and we eloped back in March

Illustrated by YukKei Lo Yuki

CREATIVE

and much besides, your life depends on it

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NONFICTION

A SEX AND DATING GUIDE Written by A’bidah

Zaid Shirbeeni

W

ith many countries going into lockdown and millions staying home, the coronavirus is definitely the biggest cockblock of 2020.

Couples and single folks alike are wondering: “How the hell do I get freaky in a time like this?”.

After all, sexual desires are natural, and physical touch is the love language of many. Sex and physical proximity can play important roles in maintaining relationships and regulating mental health due to isolation.

I’m not a doctor, or a sexual health professional.

Just a girl in love, sharing the love. So, in the name of sex, I feel like it’s pretty apt to start this guide off with some very wise words from Salt-N-Pepa: Let’s talk about sex baby, let’s talk about you and me.

Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be.

Can you have sex?

The answer is much more straightforward than you think – yes. But, some complications lie ahead.

The safest person to have sex with is yourself. But, if you are living with a partner, or you’re both living alone and have been practising social-distancing, then, by all means, get down and dirty. However, the moment anyone displays symptoms such as a cough or fever, it might be time you put a pause on the latenight or day-light (what is time, anyway?) romps and see a doctor.

Whilst we no longer fully subscribe to monogamy in this society (get on with it), sexual health professionals have emphasised the importance of having one partner during this time. Meeting new partners — sexual or non-sexual — is not advisable.

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How do you have sex?

I’m skipping the whole birds and the bees talk — I’ll leave that to your parents — but there are plenty of ways you can have sex with your loved one(s), your casual buds or your brand new Tinder match since meeting up is not an option.

I present to you: Cyber Sex. If you can’t give head, you can give Facetime. When they’re off work, you can meet them on Skype, and trust when you finally meet them you can get to loving on sight.

If video calls are not your thing, you can try sending sexy texts or share some saucy photographs. It is important to only do so with people you trust, and if your trust has been misplaced and you’ve fallen victim to revenge porn, report immediately to your local police or the eSafety Commissioner.

You can also report it online via the Australian Cybercrime Online Reporting Network. If you need further advice, UMSU Advocacy provides free and confidential advice to all UniMelb graduates, undergraduates, domestic and international students.

But, I’m not sexual? Or maybe I just want to date?

Spending quality time is just as important in maintaining relationships and is key in getting to know someone. Virtual dates can change the dating game by tenfold. Instead of getting coffee, you can play a video game or make dinner by the computer together.

Virtual dates from home also mean you’re in a space you’re more comfortable, so chances of a first date going smoothly and not getting wrecked with nerves are higher. Plus, if your date is being a dick or making you uncomfortable, you can just end the call and block them without hesitation.

Illustrated by Phuong Ngo

DURING COVID-19 There are also multiple apps out there that allow you to stream and watch a movie or tv show in real-time with your partner — ask your friends in long-distance relationships, we tend to be pros at these. Get under your blankets, lay on some fluffy pillows and put on a show. It may not be the same, but it’s as close to the comfort of “Netflix and chilling” with your lover. And before you fall asleep, to pixels that make up your baby, lean in a bit closer and give them a kiss through the phone. You’ll see them later on.

Maintaining relationships or just straight up boning may seem difficult when you’re living through a pandemic. However, with these little tips, it’s possible. Please do your best to stay connected during this time and read up on as many resources (from verified sources) as you can. Needless to say, our situation is far from ideal — but hey — what a time to be alive! We’re living in the future, blinging on each other’s hotline.

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CONTENT WARNING: violence, body horror, supernatural themes

HOROSCOPES

I asked the stars for their guidance in this strange time. They offered me only the cryptic reply “Wash Your Hands”.

Written by resident cryptid Charlotte

Armstrong

ARIES

Check your engines and remember to fuel up accordingly. The season of Aries is in full force and we can’t have you back out of the race now — the riders of the Apocalypse were so very excited to have another join their ranks.

Brakes won’t be necessary.

TAURUS

Breathe in. Breathe out. Feel the air move in and out of your lungs. The passage of the air should help delay the calcification of your organs. You won’t be able to stop it, but at least this buys you time to take up a hobby.

I hear masonry is interesting.

GEMINI

Time to drink the mercury Gatorade. You’ve waited patiently for so long. You even managed to get a nice bottle for it and everything. Now, go and enjoy it outside in the sun and finally quench your thirst.

Tell me, what does the universe taste like?

LEO

Be wary of those offering golden opportunities. They seldom tell you how much dirty work is involved in achieving your glory, and you definitely don’t have the time to go around digging up graves and carving out organs — gods forbid you miss the new season of The Bachelor.

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CANCER

Enjoy the breeze. After all, as you descend into the catacombs, it is the wind that will help guide you back out again. Keep on your guard though, as the breeze would just as much rather flow through your skull than around it. Let’s hope you make it back out to us in time.

VIRGO

Can you feel it? The vibes approach. The buzz is deafening.

The roar of collective consciousness rattles through your soul. It breathes. It consumes. You cannot help but wonder if this, at last, will finally give you the feeling of being cool. That, my friend, may take a lifetime. .

LIBRA

SAGITTARIUS

Doom approaches but can be staved off with tea and a good conversation. Little biscuits wouldn’t go astray either, like a nice melting moment or something. I hope you have a good pot of water boiling already, and you’d better start looking for a teabag. Your time is almost up.

Joy becomes you. Sadness becomes you. Rage becomes you. Craving a Boost smoothie at inopportune moments becomes you.

Exhaustion as you contemplatethis weary existence becomes you. A burning desire for righteous vengeance upon your enemies becomes you.

All becomes you, in due time.

SCORPIO

The void has been screaming ceaselessly for days now. Honestly, Scorpio, could you not have picked a better time for your little fight? Check your texts — it’s furious. Can’t you just go and apologise or something? I’m getting a headache.

AQUARIUS

The ink will run out of your favourite pen. Use it as an opportunity to consider the number of demonic contracts you’ve been signing lately. I mean, chocolate banana cupcakes? At least it looks like the demons who have claimed your soul have agreed to time-share. Good for them.

PISCES

CAPRICORN

The Mood is lavender. No, I don’t know what that means either. Do you really think I have the time to decipher all the cryptic musings of the stars?

I’ve got assessments due, plus I’m right in the middle of a binge-watch — you’re on your own here.

Give your friends a hug. Tell the people you care about that you love them. Give up your seat on the tram. Be kind to strangers. Yes, even the non-corporeal entities that lurk in the corners of your vision. They need love from time to time too, you know.

Illustrated by Rose Gertsakis

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NONFICTION

A THIRD CULTURE KID’S EXPERIENCE: INTERRACIAL DATING AND RACIAL FETISHISM Written by

M

Klesa Wilson

y skin is the burnished bronze my Indonesian mother gave me, and his is the pale olive passed down through several British generations. We’re both Australian, yet my partner and I’s childhoods are separated by different cultures, customs and two oceans. We often fall back on whether soccer should be called football, if shoes are allowed in the house, and what the appropriate application of soy sauce is — these are the byproducts of interracial dating.

Like all relationships, complications arise — arguments, miscommunication, snoring — yet our hurdle is racial dynamics, an aspect that’s had me struggling with the simplest form of intimacy: holding hands.

I can’t deny that if the streets are too crowded I shy from his grip; I avert my gaze from passersby; I pretend my fingers are cold and wrap them into my coat.

The streets we walk dwn in Melbourne harbour past anxieties of what life growing up in Thailand had been like: watching idly as older Caucasian male tourists slunk their arms around petite Asian girls, swallowing them in their embraces. Then the flip side of my sixteen-year-old body being called “sexy” by these same hawk-eyed foreigners, twice my senior.

Or the Thai taxi driver with his inquisitive gaze telling my Australian father his wife is very beautiful, and that awkward pause before he announced, “She’s my daughter.” It was an obvious and yet unspoken phenomena to witness ‘yellow fever fetish’ — the colonial overtones of desiring a sexually-suggestive yet subservient Asian woman that were accepted as a normality between both the Thai people and the foreigners who came to Bangkok.

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Twice in Melbourne I’ve had men at bars comment on the exoticness of my appearance. “Am I a parrot?” I bat away their ‘compliment’. Though biracial and an Australian citizen, I pass as Asian — before I have a chance to explain this they’ve laughed at my joke. After all, why should I take offence?

They just complimented my skin tone, the colour of my eyes, my small frame. They have just chosen to see my heritage in a crowd of white skin, my most alluring feature, my Otherness. They have just made me feel unwelcome, but it’s okay because they’ve called me beautiful, too. And yet it’s times like these that make me forget I come from the same country as these men, as my Dad, as my partner.

Moments like these transport me back to the vibrant streets of Thailand, to when I was young and foreign, but alluring-foreign. When my partner and I hold hands, a part of me thinks I look like an object of this racial fetishism, that my Southeast Asian features next to his white skin portray me as compliant arm candy, that I’m fragile and subservient. It’s an absurd thought process as he’ll never treat me this way, but it’s a fear rooted in years of racial microaggressions from older white men who have objectified my features. I remember wondering when we first started dating: Does he actually think I’m beautiful, or does he just like my Asian background?

My twisted train of thought doesn’t want to further perpetuate that idea by being affectionate in public. The other part of me just wants to hold his beautiful, sweaty hand

Written by Tzur

NONFICTION

THE CURTAIN CALLS FOR YOU TO THINK:

Ko-Geen Rochvarger

The Mean Girls movie taught us that “on Wednes-

days we wear pink” and taught me that I related the most to that girl who cried and wanted to bake a cake made of “smiles and rainbows” because I too have a lot of feelings. So while the Mean Girls musical teaches us very similar things, it also teaches us to appreciate ourselves for our individuality and that “we are all stars” as the last song says. Plus that Tina Fey is a legendary queen! She is the creative mind behind the film screenplay and the musical’s playwright.

In all honesty, the Mean Girls soundtrack really has been on loop on my Spotify since the moment the show opened on Broadway in 2018; it’s a 00s classic brought to you on the mainstage with jazz hands, no complaints from me. While listening to it during this quarantine madness, I realised that part of me longed for high school because it seemed so much simpler, and then I realised I just missed my friends.

Which brings me here — I miss my friends from high school, uni, the lot. While I seem to preach betterment, today is different. Today we are here to appreciate and love those around us. It is very hard to come out and say “I appreciate you” out of nowhere, so this is also my love letter to all my homies out there.

COVID-19 quarantine has made us feel the important role socialisation plays in our mental wellbeing, and it’s hard to check up on everyone, because you might be in your own cocoon of weight-bearing isolation. I’ve scrolled through Instagram quite a bit lately and I’ve seen people posting, “Now you know who your real friends are, because they check up on you” — but do you check up on them?

Why are we so quick to judge someone for not doing something for us, when we haven’t reached out to them? Don’t start your own mental ‘Burn Book’!

No one mentally prepared for a pandemic, and if you did, then props to you because you’re set for every curveball coming!

So, I propose a question — when did you become the centre? When does appreciation start with someone appreciating you first? We all like to think that we are loved and that people will reach out to us, but this environment is not the time to make that judgement.

Everyone responds differently to the shock that is a pandemic.

Take my words lightly, enjoy this cookie of a conversation with a pinch of salt — much more tasteful — because friends make the world go round. If the world is a massive Savannah, and high school is the little metaphor for the big bad world, then friends are truly what make us. Right now the big bad Regina George is Ms. Rona and no one wants her as the apex predator. Give your friends the benefit of the doubt, reach out to them if you can — if not, then later.

When this finally all blows over, you can have your own tap number together, because that’s what Damian does and what he does is a way of life — so listen to Damian.

So love your friend for putting ‘d’ in the word orange. Let them make “fetch” happen, and if you have the time, tell your mum she’s a cool mum. And make sure you keep your friends — don’t pull a Cady and ditch Janis and Damian because they could really come in useful in planning a corona-revenge party when corona hits the road (it’s not time yet!). For now praise your Glen Coco! *Listen to the soundtrack and reread this. Have a drink for every reference I make*fun doodle.

Illustrated by Bethany Cherry

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FARRAGO

SECTION TEXT

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FIRST PLACE IN CREATIVE WITH COVID DRAWING Artwork

by Melanie Photography

by Volf

SECTION TEXT

FARRAGO

FIRST PLACE IN CREATIVE WITH COVID PHOTOGRAPHY Photography by Sophie Berrill

FARRAGO

SECTION TEXT

SECOND PLACE IN CREATIVE WITH COVID PHOTOGRAPHY Photography

by Lucyby Seale Photography

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FARRAGO FARRAGO

Photography

by Kashish Photography

by Sandu

FARRAGO

Photography

by Kitman Photography

by Yeung

FARRAGO FARRAGO

Photography

by Kitman Photography byYeung

FARRAGO FARRAGO

Photography

by Kashish Photography

by Sandhu

FARRAGO

THIRD PLACE IN CREATIVE WITH COVID PHOTOGRAPHY Photography by Mingyu Tan

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CREATIVE FARRAGO 40

Photography

by Kitman Yeung Illustrated

by Bethany Cherry

NON-FICTION FARRAGO

Written by

‘White Rhododendron’

by Stephanie Mortlock Illustrated by

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TWENTIES in the 21st Century: Friend is a Four Letter Word

You’re happy to pretend this isn’t happening Between me and you

This isn’t significant (you say)— ”no one will ask for the stories”

If that’s the case I ask you why,

Why?

Can’t we just do it and you pretend we didn’t?

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I ask you why?

You simply Fall asleep on my lap And breathe into the unexplored Then I, Want to protect you forever People like us, You keep us under the bridge Submerge us in your waters Not long enough to drown us Still us in a loveless trance

O please then,

give me the Closest Thing to a Kiss

Breathe out so I can breathe you in Look me in the eyes at least long enough For you to sympathize For my mind to submit to itself “I am vulnerable, not in love.”

I am vulnerable, not in love.

‘Friend is a Four Letter Word’ by Elmira C.

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CREATIVE

Who’s in the mood for a Nazi hunter? While this next

badass didn’t technically kill any Nazis, she did play a firsthand role in destroying their regime from inside German-occupied France. Noor Inayat Khan joined the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force at the outbreak of World War II, after leading a life drastically affected by the Great War. She was quickly recruited to the French section of the Special Operatives Executive (SOE), who required someone that could seamlessly blend into French society while transmitting information between the French rebels and the London SOE headquarters.

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Her first mission and entry into France was a disaster, and any lesser man would have given up then and there.

But not our Noor.

“Madeleine, are you there? Over.”

“This is Madeleine. Over.” Noor whispered into a microphone. This was not how Noor had expected her welcome into France. The smell of animals and their excrement clung to her nose, the thin, leaky walls of the crumbling barn useless against the chilly breeze of the countryside.

Illustrated by Stephanie Nestor

Noor and the huge radio seemed comically out of place in their rustic surroundings – the equipment being top of the line, gleaming as if freshly polished.

Noor was dressed in her pencil skirt and blazer, ready for her transport to Paris.

“Report status. Over.”

Noor wondered whether it would be appropriate to say she was exhausted, her head aching from a parachute fall that almost went disastrously wrong.

She was silently terrified being so far from her fellow agents.

“No one has come to meet me. I landed at 1100.

I’ve taken refuge within a barn belonging to a known sympathiser, but I cannot risk jeopardising their safety to make contact. The drop was successful. Over.”

Dread once again filled the room as Noor leaned in closer to the equipment, checking everything was in order and holding on to hope that she would soon receive intel.

She had dropped into France as Madeleine – a code name that would protect her own identity and those of her loved ones. But that was only for her official work, to transmit French Resistance messages to the SOE and vice versa. In her daily life in Paris, she was known as Nora.

Paris had been her home for almost twenty years before her entire family had uprooted themselves back to England, and Noor had always yearned to return home: to the capital of fashion, glamour and proper cuisine. She’d just never pictured herself returning in such an outrageous – and frankly illegal – fashion.

“We can confirm that your fellow agents have been compromised. Arranging a pick-up from your current location at 0200 hours tomorrow. Over.”

Noor’s mouth dropped to the floor, outrage flooding her face, “Wh–No! Please! You can’t just pull me out!”

There had been so many grueling hours of training and study to get her to where she was right now. There had been people standing in her way, telling her she couldn’t handle being in enemy territory or withstand the rigorous preparation. And now they wanted to send her back to England.

“We don’t know what information the Germans now possess. It’s no longer safe for you to be behind enemy lines. Over.”

Noor took a steadying breath, considering her next words carefully. “We cannot abandon these people – the SOE link between the resistance and headquarters is invaluable. Someone must stay and maintain it.

Over.”

No reply.

“I lived in Paris for twenty years. I have friends who will support me. I can make it there on my own. Over.”

Noor hadn’t even realised how badly she’d yearned for this before now – but for what exactly? An opportunity to prove herself, a chance to help the people who accepted her when England and Russia would not? The sneering operatives in London had known she wasn’t one of them, that she had loved music and writing and her God was called Allah. And the people in Paris, where she had thrived, had never turned up their noses or treated her any different from the others. Paris was her home.

“To confirm, you are refusing extraction? Over.”

“I am, yes. Send me the French frequency so I may arrange a separate extraction to Paris. Over.”

Determination and hope flooded Noor as the agent detailed to her the French frequency, a series of numbers that would ensure the end of the War. And that her training hadn’t been for nothing. And that she was finally on her way home.

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VERSUS

UNIMELB’S GRAND vs BLAND DESIGNS: The Melbourne School of Design vs Union House Written by Sidonie

Bird de la Coeur

7:30pm, Monday night. I switch the television on.

CHANNEL NINE EXT. UNION LAWN, DAY SCOTT CAM, host of the hit Australian television series, The Block, stands in front of Union House, greeting his audience with a plastered-on smile and open arms.

SCOTT CAM G’day Australia, I’m Scott and welcome to a massive new season of The Block—University.

Dramatic high speed zoom out. Embossed letters crash onto the screen, shattering the scene: “THE BLOCK—UNIVERSITY”.

EXT. NORTH COURT, DAY Contestants of The Block huddle in a semi-circle around Scott, who continues to shout at them even though they’re only metres away from him.

SCOTT CAM Welcome contestants, to the biggest Block ever! In this series you’ll be renovating the iconic Union House. Each of you will have to remodel two rooms by the end of the week. The best concept will win this...

Dramatic pause. SCOTT reaches to his left and yanks a red sheet off a pedestal. The contestants’ eyes boggle and they join in a chorus of “wow”s and “oh my god”s. Pause on the contestants gasping to maximise unnecessary suspense. Cut back to the revealed prize— SCOTT CAM (cont.)

A $50 EFTPOS voucher, because Melbourne University can’t legally pay you for your time! A massive prize to kick off a massive series.

CUT TO AD BREAK—

Oh man, an ad break. Can’t be bothered watching this. I’ll switch over to SBS, see what’s on there.

SBS EXT. THE FRONT OF THE MELBOURNE SCHOOL OF DESIGN, DAY Montage set to graceful orchestral music—cherry blossom trees waving in the breeze, a detail of the wooden panelling of the building’s exterior, an elegant sweeping shot of the MSD. KEVIN MCCLOUD (V.O.) The Melbourne School of Design was completed in 2014 and was nominated for several prestigious architectural awards. As a collaboration between John Wardle Architects and NADAAA, the building itself is designed for the education of a new generation of architects, urban designers, developers and landscape architects.

GRAND DESIGNS opening plays.

INT. THE ATRIUM OF THE MSD, DAY Kevin McCloud walks steadily towards the camera, addressing his audience in a tone as measured as his pace.

KEVIN MCCLOUD With its light-filled atrium and central open plan spaces, the Melbourne School of Design has been created to facilitate a collaborative working environment.

Kevin McCloud pauses to gently caress a wooden banister.

KEVIN MCCLOUD (cont.)

On the design of this building, architect John Wardle stated that he wanted to “provide a place for learning and research that in itself illustrates an abundance of possibilities for students to consider when responding to the demands of complex problems”.

Fair enough, I suppose the Melbourne School of Design is easily one of the nicer buildings at the University. I’ll switch back to Channel Nine.

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CHANNEL NINE EXT. THE FRONT OF UNION HOUSE, DAY Establishing shot of Union House, with the words “The Block—University” gaudily embossed over the image.

SCOTT CAM (V.O.) It’s the second day of renovations and the contestants are all hard at work creating the perfect student services building.

INT. UNION HOUSE, DAY In an interview segment, an upper middle Bogan CONTESTANT talks to the camera. Her HUSBAND sits beside her, nodding at every word.

CONTESTANT Ya know, our vision for this renovation is to have a cute and vintage 1970s asylum theme.

HUSBAND Yeah, we also don’t want an ATM to look out of place here.

INT. UNION HOUSE, DAY A contestant is painting the walls of Union House. They look down at their paint bucket to discover it empty. Cue dramatic music. Interspersed with the revelation is them explaining the situation in an interview segment— CONTESTANT I was shocked and horrified to discover that I had run out of eggplant purple paint. This is an absolute disaster.

INT. UNION HOUSE FIRST FLOOR, DAY Scott approaches CONTESTANT DAVE as he stands in front of the Student Flights Shop, pouring over messily drawn blueprints.

SCOTT CAM Well Dave, what are you planning for this space here?

CONTESTANT DAVE Oh Scott, I just had a stroke of genius. Crammed into this little corner here, I’m gonna put a Student Flights Shop. Opposite the sushi shop. Coz this is what university students really need, ya know?

SCOTT CAM Never in my three years of hosting this show have I ever seen something so inspired.

Man, did they pull the people building this ugly student hub off the street? Why do we need a Student Flights shop? Does anyone actually use that?

I could probably design a better space with a crayon and a napkin. Oh—another damn ad break. Classic commercial TV, I’ll switch back to SBS.

SBS EXT. MELBOURNE SCHOOL OF DESIGN, DAY Kevin McCloud stands with a University of Melbourne STUDENT, who keeps anxiously fidgeting and glancing off-screen.

KEVIN MCCLOUD And what would you say is the best part about studying in this award-winning building?

STUDENT I dunno, I...like the coffee at Standing Room. Um, the atrium is full of natural light so it’s easy to read and stuff, I guess? But there are never any seats when you wanna study, so I usually have to go elsewhere and um...that low bench in front of the library is kinda weird. But yeah man, I’d much rather spend my time here than like, I dunno, greasy old Union House I suppose. Hey, can I go now I’m late for my exam— KEVIN MCCLOUD (Interrupting the nervous and fidgety student, who anxiously remains on camera out of obligation while Kevin talks) And there you have it—overwhelming student consensus that the Melbourne School of Design indeed deserves the accolades it has won. I’m Kevin McCloud and this has been Grand Designs. Good night.

GRAND DESIGNS outro music and credits.

Yep, sounds about right. I’d definitely much rather spend my time in the MSD than feel trapped at Union House.

Sources: Jonathan Russell and William Cassell. “Architecture and Pedagogy: The Melbourne School of Design.” Architecture AU, 5 Jan. 2015.

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‘Autumn Feast’ by Wendy Lin

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NONFICTION

THE TYRANNY OF SPORTSMANSHIP Written by

Anthony Jenkins

He had finally succumbed, enduring one unfair

free kick too many awarded by dogmatic referees.

The man with the power to change it all did what any good sport fan dreams of and outlawed their presence in sport.

The scourge of umpires had run rampant. Ever-increasing amounts of rules regarding academic points of gameplay had left sporting stagnant, clogged with bureaucracy. More of the game was spent blowing whistles and lining up free kicks than players doing their job. Sport no longer resembled the contests of old; the sanctity of two gladiators, locked in the struggle for victory; it was cruelly supplanted by appeals to the referee’s squeamishness.

Addressing the globe from his pulpit, his declaration was this: “Too long have the repeated failures of arbitrators paid to interrupt sporting contests gone unchallenged. Every legitimate tackle called illegal because the official had an obstructed view and had to infer, each goal disallowed because the umpire was looking elsewhere, is a blight on what sporting should be, and should not be tolerated. Until matches are presided over by a wholly impartial and omnipresent umpire — one who can see all things on the field at all times and whose constitution will not waver — human referees will always be inferior stand-ins. Referees, as they stand, are prone to extravagant inaccuracy and blatant corruption. To let them continue to malign our favourite pastime would be unjust. I have taken it upon myself to rid them from the field of play.”

In the Great Referee Trials that followed, the accused professed their innocence, claiming they were simply following orders, upholding the values of sportsmanship. Sportsmanship is merely the propaganda which losers-to-be appeal to to cover for their failures on the field and secure preferential treatment that is not earned.

What was always meant to be a contest between the total sum of efforts of the individual members of each team — coordinated and uninhibited, but was perennially hamstrung by the referee’s commitment to and enforcement of “equality” — was rectified of its fatal flaw. No more could a small man with a whistle intervene in the otherwise truthful affairs of tribes, clans, teams; sporting was liberated from impingement.

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Tennis was freed from the net. Football was emancipated from offside and pedal bondage; players could now pick up the ball and run into the goal — who was telling them not to? Basketballers no longer had to bounce and the hoops were lowered. Marathon runners hopped on bicycles. Cyclists held onto the backs of cars. Swimmers waited on idling jet skis for the starter’s mark.

As more rules waned, physical capacity took precedence as the sole factor that determined which team had the most points at the end of the last minute. All the shameful breaks in play due to discrepancies over whether a tackle was genuine or embellished by the fouled were obviated by the anti-referee reforms. There is no longer a reason for diving and theatrical, sensual writhing to entice the referee’s whistle to his mouth; when all tackles are legal, if a player goes down, they’ll stay down.

The power to achieve victory was returned to the hands of those to whom it belonged: the ruthless, those who took it.

And so the refs went, and with them the flawed implementation of imperfect rules imposed on an otherwise perfect display of physical prowess and power.

No-holds-barred: the freedom of unfettered, unregulated competition, trickled down to other iterations of sport and life. Soon, no corner of the globe remained untouched or unilluminated by the torch of true competition. Gamesmanship triumphed over sportsmanship, and we were better for it.

Ice hockey became the art of surviving blade wounds longer than the other team. Players spent their thirds slipping and sliding over the ice and blood. Their counterparts on the field made do with simply bludgeoning their opponents with their sticks.

Fencing? Sabres made way for steel blades, which made way for spears, which made way for firearms.

Horse racing? Jockeys could now whip their competitors as they whipped their horses: with impunity and vigour! Improvements imposed upon polo followed comparably.

Soon the timed imperative — another restraint — became less important than the ultimate, divine goal, and the only purpose, really, for competing at all.

Matches would persist until only one team remained standing.

Victory should be won through hard work, not by default, or by hidden conditions, and not by preferential redistribution to the meek. Remember that the joy of victory, your joy, your ecstasy at watching your team win, cannot exist without the loss, the pain and humiliation of the anti-win handed down to the far more numerous competitors and their fans.

Limits imposed on the financing of teams and athletes were graciously lifted. To win by being the best, by having the most unrelenting commitment to victory, and by utilising whatever resources one may or may not have at their disposal, was legally instated as the guiding principle of sporting.

Whatever publiclyowned clubs that remained were snapped up and developed by those most devout. Talismans of middle -tier clubs were (strongly) encouraged to play at teams more befitting of their ability, while the mediocre, the liable, the injured, and small members of otherwise ascendant teams, were promptly shown the door. The best became, and remained, the best; the rest were forced to acknowledge and celebrate supremacy in its splendour.

There is something innate in our nature that declares that those doing the complaining would act identically, if their fates were reversed.

A few injuries here and there is an infinitely better, fairer trade-off than being forced to toe the line of some tyrant with a whistle, who would be just as happy if no one ever won. As the man who banned refs said: “Why should those of us with the tenacity, ability and skill to maintain a grip on the sweet ‘it’ — while others fall off the ladder to the podium — be mandated and humiliated?

Why should we be forced to relinquish sacred portions to those too lazy or feeble to win? Those who then climb over other competitors with their own two hands and feet, and pull themselves up into the ascendant, victorious position?”

It is unarguable that referees are an unjust scar on sport, embondaging autonomous individuals, some of whom make up teams, with their imposition of equality and fair play. Things are much fairer now, wouldn’t you agree?

Illustrated by Michelle Pham

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NONFICTION NON-FICTION

Written by

Gabbi Lobo

Hey Google, how do I succeed by 25?

According to keepinspiring.me, 8 Things To Do in Your 20s to Prepare Yourself for Success include: 1) Travel your heart out.

2)Resolve your childhood issues—

A lright, I’m going to stop you right there. Not because I’ve repressed my childhood issues so deeply that the only

way I can resolve them is through much-needed, hour-long therapy sessions. But because, the fact is, we can’t all be rich influencers. We can’t all be given a “small loan of a million dollars.” So where does our societal obsession with achieving success as early as possible come from?

Throughout our schooling, we are taught that it is necessary to set goals, and that it is important to work towards them. Honestly, this is true. In setting goals for ourselves, we learn focus, self-discipline and time management skills.

I’ll admit, I probably wouldn’t be as academically successful if I hadn’t pushed myself to memorise how to spell ‘restaurant’ in grade four.

But the rigidity of institutionalised educational systems forced us to compete and conditioned us to compare ourselves to one another. They nurtured those who were ‘gifted’ and ‘talented’ but often neglected those who were not.

They put us through standardised testing and compared our results. They never prepared us for the reality of failure. Expecting young people to have meticulously planned our route to university, then unleashing us on the world as young adults, has led to us feeling lost and directionless.

The CEO of Headspace, Jason Trethowan, says that, “After finishing year twelve, young people can be more vulnerable, they are an at-risk group with no clear check-in point for mental health difficulties”. There are many factors involved when it comes to mental health, and it is clear that the immense pressure to have a steady job, find love, and become the best version of yourself by the end of your twenties, plays a massive role. Much of our early twenties experience is spent simultaneously fighting this mentality, whilst also striving for success.

The rise of social media has confronted us with people posting about their carefully cultivated successes and life achievements. It’s easy to think that people put forward a realistic representation of their life; we often forget that they leave out their rejections and mistakes. We see what they want us to see — that, coupled with our early conditioning to constantly compare ourselves to others, can lead to feelings of failure and unworthiness.

But how do we define success? Is it earning so much money that you don’t have to work another day in your life?

Is it starting a family? Is it achieving independence? All of the above?

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Like most existential issues, our perception of success varies between cultures and gender and other aspects of our identity. There are many conventional expectations for women that impede our ability to move forward with our careers, causing us to revise our goals, and miss out on opportunities. As a South Asian woman, there is an immense social expectation to be married and have children in your twenties. I’ve heard the patronising phrase “time is running out” directed towards an unassuming woman in her late twenties too many times, and I’ve internalised this idea to the point that I automatically fantasise about marrying anyone who holds the door open for me. Recently, there has emerged a new expectation: the “girl boss”.

This is the idea that we are expected to ambitiously and independently pursue high flying careers, reach the highest rank, and earn the most money. While this may seem like a progressive step towards equality, it isn’t necessarily the better option. In fact, it can make women feel like professional success and choosing to have a family are mutually exclusive.

Being a first-generation immigrant adds another layer of complexity to this. Good university education is highly sought after. Parents move their families across countries to ensure a clear pathway for their children to succeed educationally. As a result, many immigrants subscribe to the “scarcity mindset”, a term coined by Stephen Covey in his book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. Covey writes that people see “life as having only so much, as though there were only one pie out there. And if someone were to get a big piece of that pie, it would mean less for everybody else.”

Hence, we’re stuck performing a balancing act. We feel the need to make our parents’ sacrifices worthwhile, holding their expectations on one shoulder, and our own aspirations on the other. Feminist writer Sahaj Kohli writes that, “Happiness is still worth chasing even after you’ve hurt or failed…success may look different than how you or [your family and community] expected, but it’s still worth celebrating”.

All this talk, but no resolution? I wish I could offer some sort of answer. But much like other toxic, ingrained mentalities, it takes a lot more than a few positive posts on social media to unlearn this — the idea that we need to “make it” as early as possible to be worth anything. The most that we can do is regularly remind ourselves that life isn’t a race. It’s easy to get tunnel vision toward the ultimate dream of success, but sometimes you need to zoom out and put things into perspective. Enjoy the process and look around you.

We’re all on this ride together.

Illustrated by Phoebe Owl

CREATIVE

Art by Emily White

53 45

NONFICTION

THE OTHER THEORY OF EVOLUTION: EXPANDING, SHRINKING EARTH Written by Tessa Marshall

Is the Earth growing?

Theory #2: The Expanding Earth

In 2011, NASA scientists estimated that the Earth’s

radius changes by 0.1 millimetres each year — the width of a human hair and statistically insignificant.

Today we take for granted that the Earth has been the same size for a long time. But just last century, this was a topic of fierce debate. Is the Earth’s size unchanging? Or is it shrivelling like a sultana, or even expanding like a balloon?

Each idea tries to explain why the continents, despite the vast oceans between them, have coastlines that fit together like jigsaw pieces. You might assume (because you had one plate tectonics lesson in high school) that the Earth changing size is a ridiculous concept. But if you were a geologist last century, what would you have believed?

Theory #1: The Earth is Shrinking According to this theory, Earth started as a molten metal blob that has been cooling (and shrinking) ever since. James Dwight Dana, the American geologist who developed this theory, used it to explain how mountains form. He compared the Earth to a drying raisin, where mountains appeared like wrinkles. Or for those who don’t like raisins, a wrinkly old apple could substitute. The Earth’s layers don’t escape the food analogy either: Dana said the crust was like the skin on a cold bowl of custard. He must have formed this theory just before lunch.

In 1912, Alfred Wegener was the first to propose that continents move. This continental drift concept was the precursor to plate tectonics, which is widely accepted today. He also suggested that all today’s continents were once connected as one ancient supercontinent, Pangaea.

A few decades later, German geophysicist Ott Christoph Hilgenberg studied Wegener’s Pangaea proposal. His toolkit? A desire for order and a childlike enthusiasm for papier-mâché. Hilgenberg built dozens of papier-mâché models of the Earth. He found that Pangaea would cover the entire globe — no oceans required — if it were 60% smaller than our current Earth. He believed that the globe had expanded since Pangaea was formed, leading to the oceans and continents we know today.

Hilgenberg’s ideas went unrecognised. Instead, an Australian geologist named Samuel Warren Carey is credited with the Expanding Earth theory, which he developed independently of Hilgenberg. Carey was key in advancing Wegener’s ideas of continental drift before they were popular. But, long after discoveries by Marie Tharp and Bruce Heezen had brought mainstream acceptance of plate tectonics, he advocated until his dying day that the Earth’s expansion was the reason for it all.

The shrinking Earth was accepted in scientific circles for some time, particularly throughout the 19th century. But there were still unanswered questions.

According to the theory, mountain ranges should be randomly scattered across the Earth. There was no explanation for why mountain ranges cluster and earthquakes are more common in some areas than others. These flaws, among others, ultimately led to the shrinking Earth theory being discredited.

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Illustrated by Vivian Li

Theory #3: Plate Tectonics Plate tectonics is widely accepted today, but that doesn’t mean it sounds any more intuitive than an expanding or shrinking Earth. We can’t see the colossal movements of continents in a human lifetime — coastlines shift slowly, and mountains take millennia to grow. Geologists tell us about seafloor spreading, where diverging plates allow magma to bubble to the surface and form new seabed. We see diagrams of subduction, where one plate pushes under another to form trenches. But the average person cannot observe these deep ocean phenomena.

So, stifle your sniggers at the bizarre ideas of papier-mâché enthusiasts and hungry geologists.

Conspiracy theorists should not be the only ones to appreciate their work. These scientists advanced our understanding of the world around us. Without them, we might still blame vengeful deities for earthquakes and volcanoes.

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NONFICTION

SECOND PLACE IN CREATIVE WITH COVID WRITING COMPETITION

AUSTRALIANS ALL LET US REJOICE: A REFLECTION ON THE BIRDS AND THE HEART OF OUR COUNTRY Written by

Glenda Lu

Author’s statement: This piece was written in early May 2020, before the death of George Floyd sent shockwaves of anger and sadness throughout the world. It was written as a purely personal reflection on issues of immigrant identity and racially charged abuse toward Asian Australians, both amidst and outside of the COVID-19 pandemic. In light of recent events, however, I would like to use this platform to advocate for and promote the urgent need to confront and rectify our judicial, socio-political and cultural institutions which irrevocably harm Black and Indigenous Australian lives and communities.

If there is any message I would like this piece to convey it is the plea to listen, respect and lift the voices which need to be heard the most right now, whilst not forgetting that there is never an excuse for anti-Asian racism or racism against other racial and ethnic minorities in our community.

These days, there isn’t much to do, so I walk. I pass

streets full of suburban respectability, townhouses standing at attention, toeing the line of manicured council strips. When my eyes meet with strangers, a beat of understanding is followed by an inelegant dance around the pavement. A dog tail wags, guileless, a flurry of movement accompanied by the scamper of grassy paws. Across the road lies my destination — the lush open parkland that abuts my street. I’ve been a regular here ever since I can remember, and the birds have always been my favourite part. I birdwatch as I walk, watch the lorikeets tussle amongst the treetops and raucous cockatoos scrabble cheerfully around the dirt, crowing at a successful find. If I’m lucky, I might see a tawny frogmouth up above, safely nestled out of harm’s way, or catch a burst of pink as a galah’s breast flashes from the tussocks of grass.

These days, the birds are a welcome distraction. The news is heavy and hard to swallow as it is, but one particular report has lodged itself in my mind like a bone in the throat. A video I saw the other day — a lady on the metro, seething at two young men. “Australia is my country,” she barks, “disease infected dogs… Are you as Aussie as me? You get out of my country.”

Her words crackle as she rages, as loud as a vexed cockatoo, screeching with crest raised and wings flapping frenziedly. I know I should pay her no mind. I know these words speak of the individual, not the crowd — maybe even an individual caught on a particularly bad day, snapping under the perpetual stress and tension of current circumstances.

But her question lingers. Are you as Aussie as me?

Am I? What makes me Australian, besides a status on a birth certificate? Does the number of native birds I can rattle off on my fingers count for anything?

Lyrebirds, bowerbirds, fairywrens, moorhens, apostlebirds that flock in twelves and frogmouths who can hide themselves.

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Does that make me Australian?

I think back to mock rounds of Australian Idol played with friends in primary school, watching the magpies strut across the tanbark as I waited for the elected “judge” to watch my “audition”. Growing up I never listened to the Top 40 charts, never watched rage or had older siblings to indoctrinate me into the pop culture scene. My audition repertoire was the only song I loved and knew back to front — ‘Advance Australia Fair’ — and I would belt it every single audition to the frustration of friends who critiqued my lack of originality. In retrospect, the image feels so discordant to me: a child of the 2000s with no idea of Beyoncé or Britney, who could only rattle off the Australian Anthem in a heartbeat.

Did that make me Australian enough?

On days when I’m up for it, I’ll stroll beyond the park into the bordering bushland and golf greens.

Here, I might catch the sudden trill of alarm as a group of eastern rosellas take flight across the horizon, a streak of sulphur and crimson on a blank canvas. This is my dad’s favourite spot to take his walks, and he has done so for the last two decades. Gentle-spoken, reserved but industrious, he catches the train to work at the same time every day, coming back just in time for dinner every night, as he has for the last 30 years.

He does not complain, does not ask for thanks.

Instead he comes here, looking to find the wild kangaroos grazing on the golf fairways, and sends us photos of the new ducklings every spring. On the occasions I walk with him, you can see the glint of contentment in his eyes if we happen to stumble across the kangaroos. It’s like we’ve unearthed some joyous secret, emerging musky and primal from the earth just for us, before they disappear in a flash of bounding paws. I reckon he enjoys the walks where we see them just a little more, though he’d never admit it.

Is he Australian enough?

As the sun sets, the birds call louder, with urgency, chittering, crooning and warbling their last messages of the day. Sometimes I wonder what they are saying to each other, but these days the palpable absence of human activity makes me feel like I’m an interloper trying to decipher a foreign language, on the precipice of some conspiratorial secret known to all but me.

What it must be like to have experienced this in reality, to leave family and language behind and start anew in another country, I cannot fathom.

My parents protected me from the hardships they faced, raised me as a birth citizen, spoke to me as well as everyone else in English to nurture the language of their new home over their old ties. This comes at no small cost — our relationship is fraught by the barriers that language and culture impose on intimacy, emotion and love. They themselves have surrendered the small pleasures of navigating the world in one’s first language, like being able to catch the subtle references in a stand-up gig, sing along to a new song on the radio or comprehend the intricacies of an internet gag. Sometimes when a passer-by leers at us and exclaims “ching chong!” my parents will brush it off as an attempted greeting. I don’t have the heart to correct them. And in the end maybe it doesn’t matter, because in spite of it all they stay and they persevere. In the end they still want to love Australia, even in its hard places.

So, what does it mean to be Australian?

If you ask me, I think of someone who loves the land, and all of the life that this land raises, from the scorching red deserts to the roaring oceans, from the little penguin to the wedge-tailed eagle. I think of my friends, bright and beautiful, as busy as the magpie-larks scurrying across the grass, constantly journeying towards their next joy, heartache or challenge, but always willing to take out a slice of time for you.

I think of the myriad of different people that I might pass by on a single day, rich threads of heritage, culture and ethnicity interwoven in a collective tapestry.

I think of my parents, who made so many sacrifices and lost so much, but still call themselves Australian without a second thought. I think of all the people who choose kindness every day in spite of life’s cruelty, from those who’ll save lives to those who’ll save a spot for a stranger in the supermarket queue.

But above all, I don’t think being Australian is a status or a stamp, or a collection of the right traits. I think being Australian is a choice made every day, to love the land and to love each other, and to always be kind, no matter what that might look like. And of course, it doesn’t hurt to love the birds.

Illustrated by Michelle Pham

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CREATIVE

CONTENT WARNING: death and mental illness

58

Don’t Worry, Be Happy Written by Felicity

Lacey

It’s 1999 and I’m seven years old. Memories of my childhood are sparse, but I remember this: I had a watch with a pinkish-red band made of the kind of semi-transparent plastic of jelly sandals, popular at the time. Printed around the face of this watch was the phrase, ‘DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY’. I’m sitting on the lap of my much older cousin at his father’s funeral. I look down at the metal and jelly-plastic adorning my tiny kid wrist and think, how absurd.

Well, my vocabulary wasn’t advanced enough for such a succinct thought, but I remember the seeds of shame bubbling in my belly. How could I have been so foolish—so childish—as to have believed the lie of my time-telling device? I should have known better.

It’s 2017, I’m twenty-five years old and, shockingly, jelly sandals have made a comeback. I walk into the office of yet another new psychiatrist and, behind the receptionist, is a tacky poster in a decrepit wooden frame. The words ‘DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY’ contrast offensively against pasty florals. After a succession of medical professionals, and a series of less-than-successful endeavours to improve my mental health through their various treatments, this seems particularly absurd. Seeds of shame have long since morphed into something more mild: diluted by repetition, there’s just a sprinkling of uneasy anticipation. Now, as I’m scanning those words of wisdom on the wall, that bubbling in my belly bursts into sardonic snickers, eliciting a disapproving scowl from the receptionist. Tell me doctor, is this the radical conclusion you’ve drawn after spending ten years in medical school? Well then, perhaps I should have taken the jelly-plastic at its word.

Illustrated by Vivian Li

Masterpiece in Retrograde Dusk nights upon dreary bushfires. I wait holding a crystal glass, filled two-thirds the colour of the sky. Your charcoal fingers knock on the door, leaving ash on oak.

Avant-garde Miscreant is how you signed your works. My house is now a gilded frame. The floor of sketches, the walls of colour theory, the rafters made of pencil lead. Your hard lines, thick curves and feathered edges transpose onto flesh, as I drag my limbs. Tumbling onto an empty landscape, the silence unites, broken only by the windchimes I hung outside the kitchen window when I was five. The gaunt earth yields to the horizon, which bends like a broken wrist. To the bronze ballet of childhood phantoms, I wait. The violent clouds roll in, the dark honey colour of hope. Thunder breaks with the scent of vanilla.

Illustrated by Vivian Li

Rieger

CREATIVE

Written by Isabelle

59

CREATIVE

spend thrift Written by Natalie

Chun Min Fong

spend your days off bottling masochism into remedies; sell them to your isolated self as constructive criticism – criticism is a double-edged sword you’ve been taught to hold by the middle so it hurts only the way power should, must, would. sharpen it with pencil sharpener – wound way too tightly – might but won’t clean it the way you clean browser history protect it the way it should have protected

(itself from) you

there isn’t a double-edged pen so what are you to do to stay civilised, to be understood, to rival the sword with? what are you going to colour your blood with when you run out of crayons and white-out? what are you going to fill your time with if not praying to genies who’ve outgrown their lamps forever? you, your self-invoked exile, speaks to the last straw of their megalomania but did you know, deep down they too are only manically after your masochism?

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Illustrated by Franki Stackpool

snap –

Written by Natalie

Chun Min Fong

CREATIVE

wake early to be late

suppose I set my alarm so I wake graceful, without a start, open my eyes to a squared sky, where the world is only birds and clouds suppose birds are not birds but feathered clouds drifting in and out of not clouds but faded cloth suppose birds are words but words are not birds — words static like anxiety, incapable of flight or fight or fright suppose I get out of bed on the surprising side, fettered still to a Freudian fulfilment dream — I dreamed of getting away with being late, suppose traffic is not rigged against me but against Reason, you’re consumed like a wad of gum caught in the teeth of town, suppose public transport compels me to silence, stench of familiarity drowns painfully gentle excuse me’s, disorienting brakes, shrinking stoma of exit doors, suppose I, too, press for change? — get down the tram and walk, my feet in the clouds, bash the buttons at the traffic lights to exert I am here but — am I sure? suppose the green man winks greener than I’d remembered — am I changing the lights or are the lights changing me?

Illustration by Franki Stackpool

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CREATIVE

LONELY HEARTS

ANIMAL Flatworm (Hermaphrodite) “Challenge me if you dare!”

My name is Binigo Nomtoya. We are both hermaphrodites. Prepare to die – I mean get pregnant. Listen here and listen well. You are about to challenge the best penis swords-worm this side of the sea.

I am both male and female so naturally I could become pregnant if I wished. But who would want to be burdened like that?! Forced to grow fat and weak, and forage for extra food, sapping me of my strength... that would be the ultimate cruelty! I must be able to swim the ocean free of such responsibility. I simply refuse to get pregnant; but I will get you pregnant. As is customary in our kind, we shall duel. A daring dance in which you will attempt to stab me with your double-headed penis and you will miss! I am far too swift to be caught. Then, before you can dodge, I will impale you and curse you to motherhood. So, if you still wish to challenge me, prepare to draw your “sword”.

We duel at dawn!

Sincerely, Binigo Nomtoya

62

OF THE

KINGDOM Written by

Tessa Bagshaw

Male Hooded Seal

Female Nursery Web Spider

“Size does matter.”

“My body is a privilege few can afford.”

Hey hey, little lady. I know ya saw me coming across the ice. Be pretty hard to miss a big rig like myself uhhuh-huh. I just wanna let ya know I’m cool with kids.

I’ll give ya a couple days to nurse ya little bub. I’m just that sorta bloke. But when you’re done with that, I’d love to spend some quality time with ya, uh-huh-huh.

I won’t let any other scrawny males stand in the way of that. Now don’t worry about me, love. I’ll still have plenty of energy to deal with any piss-weak scavengers that only see ya for your blubber. There’s no way any bloke in his right mind would challenge me when he sees the size of my nose balloon. It’s pretty smart really. I don’t wanna tire myself out before we get down and dirty. So rather than fight it out, us males inflate a red balloon-like sack in our nose and wave it around.

Whoever has the biggest sack wins. Easy! Unless of course they’re both the same. Then we duke it out.

Salutations, I wonder if perhaps you’re one of the few men to truly see what I’m worth? I have only one request before you mate with me. I’d simply like a nice gift. Nothing too special, just some food wrapped in your silk. Though do ensure it’s big enough. I’m three times your size and you don’t want me finishing it before you’re done or I might have to eat ya! Hahahahahahaha. But seriously. Here’s a list of acceptable gifts: bugs, insects or literally anything that can sustain me laying YOUR eggs or just ANY. FUCKING. FOOD! Do NOT present me with the following: rocks, twigs, the exoskeleton of the fly you sucked the guts out of, etc. I am SICK and TIRED of fake-ass “men” giving me shitty gifts. I don’t care how nicely you wrapped it with your web of lies! If you disrespect me like that, you’re gonna catch all eight of these hands!

Let me know if ya wanna peak under my hood uh-huh-huh!

Bobby Blubberman

A whole lotta woman needs a whole lot more.

Scarlett Silk

Illustrated by Yena Kim

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CREATIVE

THE CHERRYMAN THE DAY OF GREY MOURNING Written by

Lee Perkins

Young love.

Young pain.

I was raised by slaves and poor servants.

Small women and men scuttling, submissive not to my needs, but to those of the Blackrock.

Some knew my name.

Asked me first.

Knew it was a bad day.

Knew if this week I would tremble.

Knew if I would spend the next sinking in anger.

But they were executed, strung on ropes for paupers and rich alike to learn the punishment for consorting.

And I would continue trapped in their blind and deathly bastions.

I was strung between ropes, curses chanted over me, ceilings collapsing with my writhing. To spite the gods, my kin and sires, and clench their heir, so fair and destined, amongst the sick roots of earthly magic.

To strangle the gods’ blessing into a burden.

That burden is now a storm.

My five years in the shacks of Stormwater.

Planning, growing, becoming more like myself.

Closer to destiny.

With each breath taken I feel the rotting wooden fibres surrounding me creak, tense, then let go.

I feel the tidal surges outside uncease themselves from the canals and fountains of the upper quarters.

And the copper pipes running brine and sludge through the moulded cavities begin to hum.

Rising in pitch the salted planks groan and bend.

Lentil and cave, carrot-stained, clay and shatter.

Rough white linen of my robes pulls on the floor’s once-sunken nails, my body floating in tension between things.

Anticipation.

My followers, a patchwork army of class and skill, await my move through the Stormwaters, the plunge into my Deep State, the core of my Miracles.

The world slumps.

There is silence.

Time slows.

I am at its centre.

The light, the fire, the earth, and the air twist toward me.

Already I feel the crags, the age, of the Blackrock

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------The Day of Resurgence.

The White Robe had launched from the centre of Stormwater, brine and ozone trailing from his ascent.

Amongst the shrieks of curling iron and rising waves came the inner-city bellows of desires unveiled, unshielded from their submission.

Sentries and inquisitors, heralds and taxers—all those carrying the Black Star of the Blessed Son—were assailed, tortured and thrown to the crowds from whence their power came.

The White Robe floated above, calling storm and blue fire onto bridges and towers and splintering chapels.

Oaks and gums were uprooted and flung with his furied hands towards the rotten motte beneath the Blackrock Hill.

His flame cascaded through to the Hill, neighbourhoods left charred by revenge.

Followers of the White Robe, having left the Black Hand wards of the Blessed Son in chains, watched in horror as what little they had was torn up for chaos.

Hidden heirlooms and children’s dolls smashed against sodden banks and cobbled piers.

Surrounded by a scintillating halo of blue and white light against a spray and ash-filled sky.

Miracle of the White Robe outmatched the sun itself that day.

Older ones recall his anger from those moments, his misery and his purpose, so great that the Zatlo Mountains, the Granger Fields beyond, shrunk in size and in might, the world in his hands.

His confidence.

Peak to rubble.

Grass to straw.

------I stand atop Sinistra Spire once more.

This time my arms are raised, head high. White Robes burning.

A tidal wave of screams and wreckage barrels toward me, the dark tendrils slowed and crusted, stilling the Blessed powers.

The air moves angular and restless, and the storm tide of revenge and craving fills the undercaves and soaks the black roots.

Illustrated by Anya Wong

I stand atop Sinistra Spire once more.

This time my arms are raised, head high.

White Robes burning.

A tidal wave of screams and wreckage barrels toward me, the dark tendrils slowed and crusted, stilling the Blessed powers.

The air moves angular and restless, and the storm tide of revenge and craving fills the undercaves and soaks the black roots.

Drowns the Blessed sacristies.

Fills the many punctured hearts of this black order with murky silence.

From the dust and rubble, the first the White Robe’s The Blackrock collapses. patchwork army saw was the Sinistra Spire.

Scraped ------- from its age of dominance. Alabaster again, its inlays sapphire, mosaics malachite From theof dust and rubble, the of White Robe’sand ruby, enamel cream golden dome proud patchwork army saw the Sinistra Spire. beneath the ageless again.

HisofMiracles, however, had not Scrapedsun from an age dominance. outmatched the Spire’s return.

The flood of denizens Alabaster again, its inlays of sapphire, mosaics of and once-hopefuls sworn to the White Robe’ d vision malachite and ruby, enamel cream golden dome floated intonaked the Smoked Bodies, tears, and pitied and beneathFjords. the ageless sun. forces of disbelief surged with the carcasses of buildAnd the White Robe pitied himself. ings and livelihoods out of Zatlo, into the cold deeps His Miracle had also scraped the city from its waters. between mountains.

And the waters flushed its denizens and once-hopefuls

a silent island.

Shade.

Rustling.

Green calm drooping leaves.

Single trunk, gnarled at its bottom and fading from dark forest to pale mint at its top.

A cherry tree.

My mother’s voice.

My father’s footsteps.

The cherry tree.

sworn to the White Robe’d vision down into the S Whoever survived. moked Fjords.

Whoever saved themselves from the surged terror of thethe Bodies, tears, and forces of disbelief with White Robes’ Greatestand Miracle, burrowed the into carcasses of buildings livelihoods out into of Zatlo, Zatlo Mountains. cold deeps between mountains.

Taxers and solicitors of the Cherry Quarter, the Thoughtful of Poth, the Steam-Stained of Westgate, Whoever survived. and the patchwork army of the Stormwater.

Whoever saved themselves from the terror of the White Robe’s Home left drowned.

Greatest Miracle, burrowed into the Zatlo Mountains.

Steaming.

Taxers and solicitors of the Cherry Quarter, the Thoughtful of Poth, Swamp of regret. of Westgate, and the patchwork army of the the Steam-Stained What have Stormwater.I done?

The Blackrock Hall is dust and the Blessed Son unHome left drowned. made.

Steaming.

Sinistra Spire has been sharpened and my desires Swamp of regret. fulfilled.

-----those who would share in my victory have left.

But What have Ihave done?

Thousands perished in blood.

Thecold, Blackrock Hall is dust and the Blessed Son unmade.

My cold blood.

Sinistra Spire has been sharpened and my desires fulfilled.

Casualties of selfishness and torment.

But those who would share in my victory have left.

I am lost in the bracken of hope.

Thousands have perished in blood.

I jump from the Spire into the surge below, uncaring My cold, cold blood. and cold in defeat.

Casualties of selfishness and torment.slow my drifting Copper pipes, planks, and obscurity Itowards am lostthe in the bracken of hope. green salt sea.

I jump from the Spire into the surge below, uncaring Unwaking. and cold in loss.

Timeless.

Copper pipes, planks and obscurity slow my Comfortless. driftingsand towards thebeneath green salt Coarse shifts me.sea.

A calm wind shivers my arms, opens my eyes.

---Ocean, chopped and tempestuous, except in front of Unwaking. me, Timeless.

Comfortless.

Coarse sand shifts beneath me.

65 65

CREATIVE REVIEW 66 72

RAIN

Written by Pavani

G

rowing up the bookish daughter of a young single mother in a small town, I became, for reasons unknown, obsessed with Gilmore Girls — a show about the bookish daughter of a young single mother in a small town. The series is a medley of cutesy, recurring bits, one of which is the mother Lorelai’s love for the snow. Everything’s magical when its snows, she says fervently in one episode. Do you know the best things in my life have happened when it snowed?

Strangely enough, I know exactly what Lorelai Gilmore means. For I too am slightly obsessed with being pelted by water from the skies, albeit in a different form. To me, everything’s magical when it rains.

And most, if not all, the best things in my life have happened when it rained.

While much about Melbourne has jarred me since I got here, the one thing I find the most unsettling is how it just never fucking rains here. Not real rain, anyway. See, I come from a land of months-long monsoons and thunderstorms so violent you suspect there is trouble brewing in Olympus. Calling the piss-poor sprays of water that barely wet the ground here rain seems almost insulting.

I miss the biblical storms of my childhood viscerally and remember them well. Reader, how could I forget? There is nothing quite like the ceremony that precedes, accompanies and follows a hefty bout of rain.

The grey shroud that settles over the skies, the silence that feels so sacred you hardly breathe in fear of breaking it, the smell — that strange, herby, earthy smell I would recognise anywhere in a heartbeat. If Lorelai Gilmore’s self-proclaimed superpower is that she can smell snow coming from miles away and hours in advance, then mine is that I can smell the rain. It has the same effect on me that alcohol does — one whiff and I am seven years old, racing around the house to throw open windows, dragging my self, blanket and cat as close to the outdoors as I can. It rains, and I am just so happy — the calm in the eye of the storm, my anxiety quieter, the jagged edges of my depression soft.

Hardly a surprise, then, that when I look back at my life, my most vivid memories are set against a sodden backdrop, all infused with the same peculiar magic the rain lent them. I still remember exactly how I felt one long-ago afternoon when I, a girl I never talk to anymore, and a girl I still talk to everyday, lingered together after school in our library, idling over unread notes while the rain hammered against the windows.

The wind howled something monstrous, and forked purple flashes kept interrupting our snatches of conversation, but I didn’t mind.

Ambagahawattha We were ever so warm and safe in there, whichthe violence outside only served to emphasise. I remember how the crispness of the air burned my lungs when we finally went outside, and how I felt as though the rain had scrubbed me clean, leaving me lemon-fresh and sparkling with joy.

Or the day my mother left Melbourne, leaving me alone in my student flat, where the silence soon became so deafening that I went to campus to spend the day doing readings I’d already done. Later, as I walked back to an empty house, a storm of biblical proportions — the first and last of its kind I’d see here — caught me unawares. I had neither a Myki nor an umbrella, and was soaked by the time I got home, clothes stained by the ink bleeding from my pulpy mass of psych notes.

I cried that night. The storm’s enormity was an acute reminder of how small I was — a seventeen-year-old too irresponsible to check the forecast or pack her umbrella, alone and away from home. That night, the rain felt baptismal.

Or that night when I was very little, and it rained so hard the water came into our house — a murky brown river, calf-deep and icy. The rain filled the garden up entirely, and overnight, an ocean had appeared at the end of our cul-de-sac. Alone at its centre stood our house: the last desolate outpost of civilisation. I perched on the window ledge and watched the tips of my grandmother’s bougainvilleas peek out from under the water’s surface, enchanted. I was an Atlantean princess in her tower, surveying her submerged kingdom, a selkie-maiden yearning to dip her toes, shed her human form and breathe water in great, icy gulps.

It fascinated me, how the stark divides that had defined my life so far — inside/outside, natural/civilised — had suddenly revealed themselves to be much more porous. I’d thought we’d driven the wild out, built homes of impregnable stone that would remain forever dry against the onslaught of Nature. I thought we had fought the battle and won. That day, wading in the river that ran through my house, I understood otherwise.

Mundane memories, perhaps, but rain-splattered ones, so beloved and unforgettable nonetheless.

Sometimes, I pray for the rain. A little ridiculous, given my vocal atheism. But when things are bad, and I am unhappy, and so very alone, I find myself thinking please, big guy. Tomorrow, make it rain. Let me wake up to grey skies and spend the day drinking tea by a splattered window. Let it wash the roads clean, and me with it. Now is one of those times. So, please, Lord, please, let it rain.

Illustrated by Kitman Yeung

CREATIVE

FRUIT FLY ASPIRATIONS Written by Marija

Mrvosevic

What is this fruit that smells of plastic?

Surely, an appleâ&#x20AC;Ś Look!

There!

That reddish sheen is unmistakable. So focused is my vision, framed on you.

Your yellow blots look so tasty, and oh! Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a hole.

I will share you.

With a worm.

With a gaping mouth.

I will be there soon. The glassy gloss beneath me turns to wood already.

I am coming, fantastic apple!

I am coming.

You are my only forbidden thing.

Oh, freshly plucked bosom of heavenly juice. I am almost

Illustrated by Yena Kim

there.

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CREATIVE

Auspicious Flickers Written by Jean

Baulch

Kol looks at their watch.

11:11 Feels auspicious. Precarious.

A moment of importance?

11:12 would have been a moment too late. All the magic lost. 11:10 to early. You can’t wait for magic, only stumble upon it. What a letdown, to see either and know; you fucked up.

Instead of auspicious flicker, a portal opening through paralleling, mirroring, monumental number sequencing… you find you’re nothing but someone who’s out of time, off beat, off kilter, out of sync, late to the party, or too early for even the gift of worms in your time glitching beak.

Kol looks around, trying to grasp the wisdom hidden in this moment. What is it 11:11 needs them to see?

To know? What about this moment is so integral to existence that 11:11 rose out of the darkness to tap their shoulder?

Kol scratches their head. Zing! They think, maybe the thing, the something, 11:11 wants them to recognise, was in whatever they were thinking about just now.

Kol casts their thoughts backward; they were thinking about tennis, and Roger Federer having two sets of twins. Two sets of two. 11:11. Should they take up tennis? Is that the message? No. Watch reruns of Federer bloopers? Take up having twins? Maybe and maybe, Kol notes both down, on a list titled Things to Dazzle Myself out of Boredom in Iso. But they seem lame, as far as auspicious neon magic goes. There must be some bigger meaning in the moment to find.

68

It must be in their actions, if it isn’t in their thoughts, thinks Kol. They’ve been staring aimlessly out the window waiting for a uni zoom class to start. Is 11:11 saying you’re on the right path Kol? Lol, no, that doesn’t seem right. They should be outside? It’s raining, and there’s only so many state approved exercise outings a person can take each day. The chair they’re in is comfy, is 11:11 telling them to take up carpentry? No. To grow a bigger butt for comfort? In these times of sitting around a lot, maybe. Kol writes down starch snacks on their shopping list.

They look at their watch, 11:12. No! To late, the moment passed, the message lost. Hanging their head, they remember, their watch is a little ahead of their phone. They press the home screen and 11:11 glows above an untouched preview of a text, one they’d sent themselves last night: Don’t ever fucking drink again.

Nah. 11:11 is full of shit. And what the fuck does drunk Kol know anyway.

A digital flicker shifts the numbers along. 11:12.

Kol sighs with relief…dodged a bullet on that one.

Illustrated by Geraldine Loh

soldiers Yee Ang

CREATIVE

Written by Wen

i live with soldiers of no notable rank no colonel lieutenant even when empty streets glimmer lines of indigo tar they rise uniform on navy blue sterile sapphires epaulettes replaced by white swipe cards, brilliant i think of her in that apron she got for christmas kitchen smells waft through my bedroom door – muffins i hear the trenches are saving their masks for the bad ones sometimes they go without we wait for the cannons – blood sweat sleepless nights – pinging pager i don’t think they knew they could die danger danger i cannot fight if i cannot see what can i do but wait i am no domestic damsel but i am a coward so i do the washing the cookinghangingvacuuming i tell them to shower when they get home (lest they forget) we do not want the blood on us the wait is an ache sting of a band-aid dragged off my skin stones on my chest – drowning, i cannot sleep (don’t worry i don’t have it) (at least i think i don’t) what matters if other people die? but i am selfish i am no good Samaritan perhaps it is i who should go down to hell the world clings hanging still they wait to be deployed today i wish my soldiers would come home

Illustrated by Reann Lin

69

CREATIVE

HOT AIR BALLOON Written by

Jamisyn Gleeson

Sitting in a wicker basket drifting off into oblivion, we gaze at the world we leave behind.

The earth beneath us is an impressionist splatter of chartreuse, of lilac grey, oaky brown.

Our balloon leaves a mark in the sky, a signal that asks ground dwellers to leave, to fly.

We canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t spend forever here, suspended in the air.

When we land our woven enclosure tips so that we teeter backwards and gasp as the balloon threatens to swallow us whole before it sets like the sun.

We dust ourselves off, tilt our heads back and stare at the sky we lived in momentarily, before we roll up the balloon play with it like origami and finally tuck it away like a dream.

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Illustrated by Alice Tai

Written by Shaira

CREATIVE

Ruby

Afrida Oyshee

Young peaches rain on a bruised roof, chafed by young brushing winds The peaches, mimic the sky on its skin splatter of red - a sudden brown.

The winds run a colossal orchestra

to the baton of an unseen conductor - the marmalade orange afternoon of Giverny

They run to the dense web of leaves The leaves applaud as the winds are tamed

caught then tamed roof falls cool, peaches fall

silent. a small mob of wind

escapes untamed

reckless

reckless recklessly ambitious they call upon a ruthless storm, that breaks the damn tree.

Dear Ruby, Do you want to be? the defeated tree the earnest winds the falling peaches the hurting roof...

I would rather be Just this evening sky of Giverny.

The poem is inspired by the painting Springtime At Giverny by Claude Oscar Monet

Illustrated by Elmira C.

71

CREATIVE

Ama, Amie, Amour – those names still echo in our home.

Ama, Amie, Amour both set you free and kept you hostage

bitter dust Written by Jennifer

Chance

You were our twirling storyteller, your little feet once dancing with purple ballet shoes wrapped in silk.

See my eyes? My favourite tale.

You told it after you cried, after my father said everyone talked about you and your myriad of lovers.

They come from the Atlantic. Two whitewashed pearls from the deepest parts of the ocean.

How did they find two, eh?

You dance again, you and your scab-filled arms, you and your balsam skin in the dusk of a nursing home.

How happy you were when you showed me your back – a map of cigarette burns from past lovers, valleys of chickenpox scars and that descending space between your rib cage and spine.

Ama, Amie, Amour, when we met one last time you told me I was lucky – no other grandmother could be so alive and still cast no shadow.

The songs of buskers drip into subway grates.

In New York things are always falling down, falling apart, falling together.

Noise and emptiness, Ama, reminds me of you.

In my mind there is a tiny dancer falling into a hole under her feet.

Some nights when the ambulances sing, I hear you and Andy Lau in a mixtape chorus.

Ru Guo Ni Shi Wo De Chuan Shuo, and your voice cracks every time.

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Illustrated by Sue Park

CREATIVE

Hum, thrum Written by Mae

Horsley

I’ve always lived in the eastern suburbs. Where I live, there’s these hills with TV towers on them that loom over suburbia. No matter where you are, you can see them from almost every point. And they have this permanent electric thrumming sound—an unrelenting suburban melody.

The persistence of the hills, with their watchful eyes and constant thrum, acts as a reminder that I’m always going to be here, woven through the crevices of the eastern suburbs. Woven through a sprawl of modest red brick houses, winding tar roads, squeaking gums and the ceaseless purr of the greyish-blue hills.

In the past I’ve found myself resentful towards the constant-ness of it all. At one point I feared they had a violent hold on me. Clutching me with a grip so tight, I was certain they’d turn my skin into their own greyish-blues.

And so, with that thought, I tried to leave a few times. I left with an unmistakable malevolence. I told them I hated them and the way they nagged me to stay. I told them I was never coming back.

But I always ended up coming back. Upon each swift return, clambering my way home through the intimate folds of the backstreets, the first things I’d always notice were the hills and their towers. They’d be sitting there the exact same as I left them, lounging under a velvety pink sky, smugly awaiting my arrival.

Eventually my resistance became useless. I gave into their thrum and submitted to their heavy, changeless lulls.

The hills, I’ve realised, are laced through my body in ways I can’t unravel. They’ve seen me in places no one else has. They’ve watched me leave with rancour, only to return with mellow, custardy apologies. They stare with mossy eyes as I bask under a mid-July sun, letting my skin absorb the delicate warmth of the Australian winter.

They hear the grass sigh under my weight as I walk through dewy afternoon lawns. They watch as I let myself sink into the familiarity of the suburbs without fear, under the spell of their all-knowing, sort of hazy-blue glory.

Illustrated by Abir Hiranandani

73

CREATIVE 74

‘Red Liquorice’ by Phoebe Edwards

Written by Birdy Carmen

Looming antiquities when the past had teeth and bottletops, hammocked days toes intertwined, hand on tit, This was love. and dripping manhood, too hot to catch The doorknob was slippery with what, i don’t know and then, furious as an unkept promise tethered to its pursuer purpose unknown like the finger tattoo the lip tattoo is this where you find yourself should i look closer but the windows are locked and i am trapped in w/ the song and a bottle of luck expired last year broken mug your mother made before she found cancer and was saved and the receipt long black macchiato milk on side for who?

‘Dripping manhood, too hot to catch’’ by Birdy Carmen

CREATIVE

how I would like to believe in tenderness

75 73 79

tw.j hr kmt—I have Egypt

sn hr ta n aamw –They have the land of Asiatics

76

Maat—Justice, balance

Isfet—Chaos

hqaw—rulers

smw—the harvest

staw—secrets

Jz—tomb

Hwt-ntr—Temple

rnpt-hsb 22, hr hm n nswt-bjt hwfw—Regnal year 22, during the reign of the King of Upper and Lower Egypt, Khufu

CREATIVE

Mnw—monument Nswt—King, he who wields the sedge

Artwork by Felicity Smith

Tawj—the two lands (Egypt)

FARRAGO

HIGHLY COMMENDED IN CREATIVE WITH COVID ILLUSTRATION Isolation by Rose Gertsakis

77 47

NONFICTION

PARALYSIS BY ANALYSIS:

THE TERRIFYING FREEDOM OF A UNIVERSITY STUDENT Written by Alexander

Oswald

We were three friends sitting around a table at The

Pancake Parlour. Between us there were three serves of Alice in Wonderland pancakes, all in various stages of being lovingly devoured. The conversation had been polite and restrained, until one member of our party said it.

“I don’t know, I go between being really motivated on occasion to usually feeling like I can’t be bothered with anything.”

Nodding with knowing agreement, we each applied that phrase to our own personal contexts. Staring at our plates, we all felt a deep affinity with the rainbow chocolate sprinkles drowning in pools of melted ice cream.

What my good friend had just alluded to was nihilism, the feeling of meaninglessness and futility that haunts many of the things we allocate our time to.

As a result, like many other university students, I feel as though I am living in a synaptic gap. Looking back, I was lucky enough to enjoy my high schooling.

The friends I had, the sense of purpose, the routine and that bit of paper at the end were all awesome. But now that I fully realise the ATAR isn’t everything, I’m honestly not sure what is.

University is the time where many of us have reached this critical junction and are forced to ask ourselves the same question: what is my purpose? With this weighing down on us, we find ourselves struck by the phenomenon of paralysis by analysis.

The French existentialist philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre was correct when he argued that “man is condemned to be free”. Living in the absolute freedom of our post high school youth, it can feel like we lack a reason to do anything. This fear provokes a lack of purpose, meaning we often struggle to motivate ourselves to pursue our life in one direction or another.

78

Being young university students, we are particularly vulnerable to this nihilistic perspective. Caught in the first years of university, the road to degree completion appears a long one, with plenty of lonely nights to question whether our path is the one for us.

Moreover, at this early point in our lives, we have few laurels we can rest on. Languishing in this no man’s land, we are bombarded by the advice of mostly older adults who tell us we have the chance to reinvent ourselves, try new things and start afresh.

However, these lofty aspirations immediately provoke sobering follow-up questions, such as, what do we reinvent? What do we prioritise? Where do we start afresh?

There appears so much for us to do, learn and see that it should be exciting. Yet, paradoxically, because there is so much that we want to do, it can become overwhelming.

This is how nihilism becomes such an attractive prospect. Embodying what Sartre labelled a “toothless existence”, we find ourselves suspended in a state of constant waiting, refusing to “[bite] into anything”.

Simultaneously, this attitude of pointlessness and futility has been exacerbated by social media, the 21st century’s opioid of the masses. With its constant deluge of stories, pages and videos, social media provides us with an irresistible opportunity to compare ourselves to our peers. To have our insecurities about our bodies, social lives and futures paraded before us.

In this way, the supposed “gram” and its compatriots intensify the pressure we feel about our life direction.

Clearly, there needs to be a mindset change.

Too often, the goals we set before ourselves are destination-oriented, which accentuates the absence of control synonymous with nihilism. Whether these goals are set for two years in the future, at the end of the year, or even at the end of the semester, their distance makes staying motivated difficult.

I believe we need to reorganise our thinking to establish goals we can control immediately.

Goals that are dependent on journey rather than destination. Personally, a goal where I say I will do my readings for next week has far greater value than the goal that says I will maintain a 75 WAM. The best stories I hear from older adults are the tales of them not having their shit together. The people who spent years trying different things until they finally found their chosen career at 35. As such, I would like to give notice to the world.

I may be one of those people. I may do law because I enjoy analysis and debating. I may do teaching because I want to help others reach their full potential.

I may become a journalist or writer because I think it is an incredibly important, yet underrated, profession.

The existentialist philosopher Albert Camus’ declaration that “man is destined to be confused” neatly summarises the state of being I currently exist in. It has been learning to accept this confusion, rather than fear it, that has allowed me to negate the effects of nihilism.

In the two years since I have left high school, this acceptance has been aided by two pieces of advice. The first comes from the Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who believed that “perfection of character is this: to live each day as if it were your last”. He reminds us to focus our energies exclusively on the parts of our day that are within our sphere of influence. To complement this, the advice of a close friend after a particularly disappointing SAC result in Year 12 that “you are where you are supposed to be”, continues to lessen the abject fear I have felt about not being too sure about anything.

This entire article was prompted by a conversation with a few friends over pancakes. My final piece of advice to cope with nihilism is to use the people around you as an outlet to share these sorts of thoughts. In doing so, often you will find not only a sympathetic ear but, more importantly, a similar mindset.

Illustrated by Rohith Prabhu

79 49

FLASH FICTION

The Fifth Dimension

by Felicity Lacey

TIME FIREWORKS

We walked through the doors of the campus café and into the fifth dimension, where it suddenly became like looking at life through a bubble blown into sunlight. The average world distorted into rainbow hues that oozed and eased into gentle curves. I remember laughing as we sank into silliness and embraced the incomprehensibility of temporal realms. The baffling bubble of the fifth dimension was a space of whimsical genesis and so, we painted our hands silver to prepare for the art heist.

“Don’t die, okay?”

You lean into me and I place an arm around you.

“I need you,” I whisper. “You’re my creative muse.”

Though this elicited cheeky chortles, here I am creating—because of you. by

Vanessa Lee

a girl stands at the edge of the lake with ink stained, clenching fists. for a moment, she dreams not of infection, disinfectant, suffocation, but the cool breath of salt water during summertime. forgets the sight of war in the wards, the eerie silence of her hometown streets. for a moment, hears the familiar sounds of family puttering about, and listens for the whisper of rain against her bedroom window as she scratched the good and bad into her old, battered diary. a girl looks at the way the light touches the black water and thinks, it’s about time she swam.

anachronism by caity

She took his hand and time melted away as water flowed through fingers. Centuries rise and fall like a lullaby; love, tragedy and war. Roman steel shatters as crowds roar within colosseum walls, now lying in ruins. The cries of revolutionaries echo through streets lined with the metropolitan thrum of cafes and trains. Warriors of old and soldiers of yesterday lie in red-run fields where grass now grows. They danced, through the brushstrokes of sunflowers, the dip of a pen in ink on the pages of an unwritten novel. And lost themselves, in kingdoms long fallen and civilisations long forgotten.

82 80

Illustrated by Rose Gertsakis

MUSIC

‘ABOUT TIME’ PLAYLIST

PLAYLIST OUT NOW ON FARRAGO SPOTIFY ACCOUNT 1. Yes I’m Changing - Tame Impala 2. Changes - David Bowie 3. Disco 2000 - Pulp 4. Time Warp - The Rocky Horror Picture Show 5. Just Give Me Your Time - Sharon Jones & The Dap Kings 6. Wait - M83 7. 5AM - Amber Run 8. Time Is On My Side - The Rolling Stones 9. (Don’t Fear) The Reaper - Blue Öyster Cult 10. Anthems For A Seventeen Year-Old Girl - Broken Social Scene 11. If I Could Turn Back Time - Cher 12. Daylight - Matt and Kim 13. When We Swam - Thao & The Get Down Stay Down 14. Time - Supergrass 15. Time of the Season - The Zombies 16. Just Like You - Roxy Music 17. Time Won’t Go Slowly - Snow Patrol 18. Seven Hours - Little May 19. Warm Winters - Alex Asha’ari 20. The Night We Met - Lord Huron 21. Yesterday - The Beatles 22. Time Has Told Me - Nick Drake 23. Sign of the Times - Harry Styles 24. Spring Snow - Vampire Weekend

Illustrated by Elmira C.

The Media Office would like to acknowledge the True Custodians of the land on which we work, the Wurundjeri People of the Kulin nations. We pay our respects to their Elders, past and present. We extend our acknowledgements to the First Nations students and staff members in the University of Melbourne community. The land we are on is stolen and sovereignty was never ceded.