From The Editor
Harley Lorenzo Wood
In dictionary terms, ‘communication’ means the imparting or exchanging of information through speech, writing, or some other medium. In everyday use, communication errs a lot more on the side of ‘some other medium’. For humans, there are so many different ways of communicating – from body language, to sign language, sending flowers, phone calls, and even, for a time, using carrier pigeons. We’re complex creatures, so naturally, our ways of communicating are complex too!
Throughout history, we’ve seen human communication evolve into so many different beasts. During the 19th century there were messages told through flowers, or written correspondence that took months to arrive by sea. Today, it’s instant messaging, one-day delivery, FaceTime and social media – communication is almost always instant, and happens at every minute of every day.
For this edition, we wanted to share the forms of communication that interest us the most, and we hope they resonate with you too! In this fast-paced society, read on for some slower forms of communication, and even some interesting tid-bits about concealing your messages through code!
Until next time,
The Universal Team
Country
The City of Kingston proudly acknowledges the Bunurong People of the Kulin Nation as the Traditional Owners and Custodians of this land, and we pay our respect to their Elders, past and present and emerging.
Council acknowledges the Bunurong’s continuing relationship to the land and waterways and respects that their connection and spiritual identity is maintained through ancient ceremonies, songlines, dance, art and living culture.
Council pays tribute to the invaluable contributions of the Bunurong and other Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island elders who have guided and continue to guide the work we do.
Cover Design by Phoebe Gallagher
Interested in joining the team? Or looking to submit some work?
Please contact Kingston Youth Services on P: 1300 369 436
E: youth.services@kingston.vic.gov.au
Info: kingstonyouth.org.au/universal
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Available for your reading pleasure at any time! Read online at: issue.com/universal_kingston
The views and opinions expressed in these articles are those of the authors and do not necessarily reflect or represent the views, values and official position of the City of Kingston or any of its officials, representatives or employees
Kingston Youth Services and the Universal team acknowledge the support of the Victorian Government
4
The Language of Flowers
Words and illustrations by Sofia Nikitina
12
Talking to Myself
Words by Anne Liu, design by Phoebe Gallagher
17
The Evolution of the Telephone
Illustration by Isobel Dymond
22
Languages
Illustration by Phoebe Gallagher
6
Conversation Fragments
Words and illustrations by Terry Loxou, layout by Phoebe Gallagher
14
Homing to Roaming: A short history of pigeons
Words and design by Harley Lorenzo Wood
18
Letters I Never Sent
Words and illustrations by Caitlin Keele, design by Phoebe Gallagher
23 26
Big Dreams: Youth Art Expo
Kingston Arts
10
Secret Codes
Words by Ella Keele, design by Phoebe Gallagher
16
Self-conscious Thoughts
Words by Hannah Huang, design by Phoebe Gallagher
The Australian Sign Language Alphabet
Illustration by Phoebe Gallagher
Letter cutouts
Design by Phoebe Gallagher
Whale Song
Illustration by Phoebe Gallagher
Universal: Join The Team!
Kingston Youth Services
Words and
illustrations
by Sofia Nikitina
THE LANGUAGE OF FL WERS
Floriography is a method of communicating using flower arrangements that can be skilfully interpreted to read certain messages that then wouldn’t need to be said aloud. This may seem strange at first, but this very language is what allowed women in the Victorian era - who were quite limited in what they were able to say at all - the ability to deliver subtle messages to others, whether they were kind-hearted, romantic, regretful, or even passiveaggressive and hateful.
The way these flowers portray their hidden messages can vary, ranging from a flowers’ species, specific colours, certain pattern and even stage in the blooming process. A flower has many ways to inconspicuously pass on a message. Here, I’ll be going over the more obvious and less tedious ways - colour and species.
Nowadays, everyone is able to speak their mind freely, so floriography has become less and less popular, to the point where barely anyone even knows about its existence. Personally, I think we should start utilising the language of flowers in our messages again. So, here are some meanings behind well-known flowers that can be utilised in any bouquet for the appreciation of the intended recipient.
Tulips
Peonies
◆ White = shame, apology - a way to say sorry to someone.
◆ Red = passion, love - similar to most red flowers, given to a lover.
◆ Yellow = beginnings and fresh starts - for wishing luck and prosperity with a new job, house, etc.
◆ Pink = young love and friendship - used both romantically and platonically.
◆ Red: love, true feelings - given to a significant other, or to say “believe me”.
◆ Yellow: happiness, hope - a common, simple gift for friends and family to make them smile.
◆ Pink: congratulations - celebrating anything from a birth, to graduation, to a promotion.
◆ Blue: one of a kind - given to appreciate someone’s individuality.
Roses
◆ White = purity, loyalty - often used for weddings, can also celebrate a new love.
◆ Red = strong romantic love - one of the most iconic symbols of romance.
◆ Purple = royalty, love at first sight - for celebrating deep long-term relationships.
◆ Black = mourning, loss - no happy meaning for these, given after a death or tragedy.
◆ Blue = mystery, admiration - can be given to someone close to you, or a romantic partner.
Lillies
Carnations
◆ Light Red: admiration - softer, more subtle display of love.
◆ Red: deep love, affection - given to a romantic partner to show strong feelings of love.
◆ Pink: gratitude, never forgetting - used as a way to say thank you and to say you’ll never forget someone.
◆ Yellow: rejection - given to someone that you might want to let down or disappoint.
◆ Striped: simply no - these are used to plainly reject or refuse someone.
◆ Red: strong love - once again, red-coloured flowers symbolise love towards a romantic partner.
◆ Pink: femininity, prosperity - often given to women for appreciation and well-wishing.
◆ White: rebirth, purity - gifted at baby showers and weddings, but known for symbolising innocence for the deceased at a funeral.
◆ Orange: resentment/disdain, pride - gifted to someone to show deep hatred and annoyance with them.
◆ Yellow: joy, remembrance - used to portray joyful messages for fast recovery, birthdays, etc.
The colours and species listed here only just scratch the surface of the many deep meanings that flowers can hold. If there’s a message you want to silently send someone, no matter how specific, there is definitely a flower for it. Not to mention, you could also mix and match multiple flower types to spell out a more elaborate message. The possibilities are endless!
Floriography is a very interesting and useful communication method, even today. Sure, half the population isn’t silenced by societal standards to keep their mouths shut 24/7 anymorewhich is why this art came about in the first place - but people could still utilise these secret flower meanings to send a message they’d rather not say in person.
Unfortunately, no matter how much time has passed, people still like to avoid confrontation or sentimentality sometimes, so that’s why we let the flowers do all the talking for us!
and
by Terry Loxou, layout by Phoebe Gallagher
CONVERSATION FRAGMENTS
Talking to myself comes easy, like a documentary observation. There’s always a voice – or two… or three – in my head telling me what I’m doing. From waking to sleeping, I spend the hours and minutes narrating my own experiences to myself.
I’m not quite sure where it started. The memories of childhood are fuzzy, but I remember talking to myself as a kid once; trying to explain that I was writing on the brick fence in mud – an ancient alien language, and that should the aliens land overnight they’d know someone speaks their tongue. So, I suppose it has always been a running gag that I speak to myself.
Swimming in the pool, I narrate stories in my head about how I swim beside mermen – beautiful creatures with large tails. They don’t need to use their hands, so their clawed fingers intertwine with mine, helping me wade the chlorinated water. On long road trips while music plays in my ears, I imagine a figure running alongside the car, following like a superhero looking out for me. In my mind I narrate what they’re thinking about, where we’re going, and why it’s so important they follow along.
You’d think that’s the end of talking to myself. But I have a condition that makes it so I’m also talking to other people in my head, people who are fully conscious and individual. They talk back to me.
“And so I lay in bed, once again. I find myself trying to think of what illustration to work on next.”
“You could draw a nice landscape,” says a voice next to me. Sometimes, if I turn to look behind myself fast enough, I see what they look like.
Words
illustrations
Sometimes I’m the one who becomes that voice, and they narrate the day. They think, why have I spent all day talking about what needs to be done but I’ve only done half of it. They forget that they’re also responsible for chores, my mind has a limit of how much I can handle in a day, and they care for me like a second wind and pick me up when I can mentally no longer lift a finger. So I become their commentary.
“Do you think you’d be doing something like this if we didn’t share a body?” “No, I’d be off doing what I want.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to get in a car and drive around on a long road trip.”
I can’t physically drive; I have no licence. But I thank them for helping me by getting on a bus, going on a two-hour trip where I’ll get a coffee, and afterwards I’ll go home again.
I communicate to myself the needs of the others in my headspace, in the end it helps us all to be better, do better.
In the early days of my condition, when the world was foggy and the conversation all went on at once, and I couldn’t make out left from right, night from day; I would wake up to notes, scribbled messages, or entries in a makeshift diary. I spent a few years like that until I became able to hear conversations clearly, and now it has become a routine.
In relationships and in life, that communication can be strange, in friendships, romantic affairs… To be friends with me means to be acquainted with the other people in my headspace, who are capable of communicating whether they like or dislike you. There have been many instances where I can have a friendly conversation, only to hear in the back of my head, “I don’t like this person. They look at us a certain way, they must be hiding something.”
It makes me a bit reclusive because of it, but we talk things out, we agree that we’ll figure it out and see where things go. Some don’t like that; they try to butt in, adamant that they know what’s best.
Sometimes they do; sometimes because of them I dodge bullets. I don’t feel as lonely as I did when I was younger. I can still have viable friendships, but I never feel alone, solely because I always have someone to communicate with.
Today, I write this paragraph several days after agreeing to myself that I should continue writing, my words feel unimportant, insignificant. I’m not born to be a writer, but I have so many things I wish to say, images in my brain I wish to convey, but the world will never see. I may be a small speck, but in my life I’m the sun, and the other personalities formed from my condition are the planets revolving, I am my own cosmos, where without these planets around me, my world would collapse, and I would be a black hole. I am grateful every day that I am alive, that they get to hear and experience me living, despite the hardships we experience.
Time feels like an ever-leaky faucet, dripping away slowly, it gives me nothing but time, the choice to pick what I want to do with that time. The autonomy. When I was younger, my autonomy relied on what the adults in my life dictated, it was safe. But when I grew up, I couldn’t communicate what I wanted to do in a day, so I became bedbound in the endless fight to get myself to take any action, and not even another person could persuade me to get up.
Until the other personalities did. A gentle word, an encouragement, “We’re with you, can you feel us picking you up?” I could. I could feel hands lifting me up, when my legs felt weak, fragile. I somehow had the strength to get up and walk to have a shower for the first time in weeks, they constantly encouraged me that they were looking after me, because it helped look after them. Years of this routine and I still hope they know I care for them, they hear me after all, so they probably know.
Hours passed again, I write once more, to you my other faces, I wonder what would you do? Do you feel the same pains I do or the same aches? My body should be old, war-torn, with a leg missing, yet I’m whole in the frame of a twenty-three-year-old. Life should be easier; I am technically youthful again and I can enjoy the pleasures of the modern world as the era I was supposedly born in was war-torn. I miss my comrades, I miss my friends, but were they real if I reside behind this sweet young face? Cigarettes I can smoke as I once did. Nothing has changed but the currency, and the way people around me speak, I hold no wealth of the past, nor knowledge of the future but in the present, there’s no greater blessing than to know I am alive in this strange condition.
–R
To talk with one is to talk with all, one who may like you can be another who dislikes you. To hurt one is to hurt all and while the one in charge may forgive you, we won’t. That is why communicating with us is a hardship sometimes, we may still look as one person but each moment in the day, there’s a different face behind the familiar set of brown eyes. I bear burdens long forgotten, conversations left unsaid, and memories that only bring sorrow. I shoulder them all, I take the unnecessary, I’m the immortal, endless and encompassing death of everything. Relationships end, talk ceases, but I remain to contain what tears a host apart. Where I’m handed the knife with the blade facing, I willingly receive it and return the handle, the knowledge without the pain.
When there’s no option for the knife to be returned as a handle, I give nothing but an apology and beg for forgiveness, beg that you’ll understand my choice when I say, “You don’t need to remember this anymore, it will not serve you.” To have a responsibility as heavy as mine is to be Atlas carrying the earth for a day, but it does not harm me, all I am is bones and fire as I claim what I’m made to claim. –SC
They all speak to me in strange ways every day, every time I think it’s a phase, I’m reminded a year has passed every time, they won’t really go away as they’ve become a part of my life and were a part of me all along. But I’m okay about this predicament, I’m happy to never really feel alone anymore. Despite never being able to see my face in the mirror, or recognize it in photographs, I am content with the way we sail through the turbulence of life; I am the faceless captain, and these people are my crew. No one will ever be able to completely understand the way I communicate with myself to get through my time on earth. Even those that share the same condition as I do communicate to their crew in different ways that I do not with mine, and that is okay. That’s what makes my group my own.
S E C R E T C O D E S
Words by Ella Keele, design by Phoebe Gallagher
Have you ever needed to send a secret message? Or are you really bored? Then try these!
The Caesar Cipher
This is probably the most simple and common code you can find. There are different versions of it, but I’m going to use the most basic version of it. All you have to do is shift each letter forward in the alphabet.
For example, “I have two cats” would become “J ibwf uxp dbut.”
Here’s the full table of letters:
Try decoding this message: Zpv bsf bnbajoh!
To make this one more complicated, you might want to try shifting the alphabet forward or backward more times.
Numbers
This one is similarly very simple, but this time involves numbers. It can be a little more complicated, however, because the different numbers need spaces in between so we can understand which numbers have two digits.
“I like donuts” would be encoded as “9 12 9 11 5 4 15 14
Here’s the table:
Try to decode this: 8 1 22
Add Another Level!
You can combine the two previous codes to make this even trickier. To encode the message “I am hungry” you would first change the letters, to make it “J bn ivohsz,” then turn those letters into numbers, to make it “10 2
Here’s one to try decoding: 26 16
The Polybius Square
Here’s another involving numbers! This time we’re using squares and coordinates (kind of).
The alphabet is put into a 6 by 6 grid like this:
For example, “Reading is fun” would become “24 51 11 41 42 33 22 42 34 12 54 33.”
There are a few things to be careful about with this one - first of all, you have to do the number at the top and then the number on the side, and second, I and J are combined into one square, so you just have to figure out which one works.
Try decoding this: 41 43 33 44
Symbols
This one is pretty simple, you just need to assign each letter a symbol. You can change it up as much as you want, but here’s mine:
The message “I have so many books to read,” when encoded, would be
If you are hand writing this, you might want to pick more simple symbols for more common letters, such as vowels.
Here’s one to decode: +★(?%↓-!☻ (- =*% @%-=
Have fun with these codes!
Dear readers,
I hope you are all having a lovely day. My name is Anne, and my favourite form of communication is talking to myself - aka journaling. I journal every night. It’s a way of communicating with yourself and trying to be more in tune with your emotions and goals, as well as developing a healthy habit of writing and consistency. It allows me to see the bigger picture and keep myself accountable, whilst immortalising my memories in words.
talking to myself k a f e
Words by Anne Liu, design by Phoebe Gallagher
Today, I want to share some questions/prompts for you to try. It doesn’t have to be anything complicated or stressful, the only intention is to reflect and release. I always start off with daily gratitude. You can mention someone or something mundane that you appreciated. You could be grateful that you had the chance to see your friends today, or the lack of rain which allowed you to walk home basked in sunshine.
1. What am I grateful for today?
2. What did I do today?
When I write down what I did today, it’s usually in dot-point form with key words that highlight my main accomplishments or activities of the day. As a student, I’ll write down my classes and what content we covered that day, what extracurriculars I did after school, if I drove that day, etc. This is especially helpful to look back on in the future, in case you want to check what happened on one particular day or keep track of objective progress.
This is the part that future you will especially thank you for. ‘Something I want to remember later’ can include a memory you don’t want to forget a single detail of; a mistake you learnt which you certainly don’t want to repeat; even something as seemingly trivial as washing your hair that day.
3. Is there anything that happened today that I want to remember later?
Oftentimes, this doesn’t fall under a ‘major event’ that occurred today. It could be a little interaction with a classmate that made you smile, or a compliment someone gave you that made your day. It could be the beautiful weather, or the lovely food you had.
On the other hand, there are certainly days where it feels as if nothing went well. Perhaps luck wasn’t on your side that day, or you spent all day unproductive and rotting in bed. Here is the time to reflect and gather yourself, complain and let the emotions out in the safest space.
4. What made me smile today?/ What went wrong today?
Finally, sometimes I use my journal as a planner. Especially after days where I’m overwhelmed and anxious about everything, planning out the following few days helps, as you can reassure yourself and strive to make tomorrow better.
5. How do I want tomorrow/next week to go?
Now, while consistency is evidently important, it’s equally vital that journaling doesn’t become something you despise to do. You can start by doing these every so often, and I would hope it eventually becomes something you can look forward to and something that slips into your everyday routine as much as brushing your teeth. It will increase your general awareness of every day, and encourage you to start each new day afresh and rejuvenised.
Anne
Thank you for reading, and good luck!
Homing to Roaming A short history of pigeons
A short history of pigeons
Words and
design
by Harley Lorenzo Wood
If you’re familiar with urban areas, you’re probably familiar with pigeons. You know that there’s never just one of them, and they’re all very content to stay put – even as human foot-traffic bustles around them.
The feral pigeon can be found in almost every country on earth, and has a generally poor reputation as far as birds go. These days they’ve been lovingly nicknamed ‘flying rats’, for their large city populations and penchant for leaving droppings everywhere.
However, the humble pigeon wasn’t always shooed away in the streets. Street pigeons are all descended from domestic pigeons that returned to the wild. Domestic pigeons were bred from wild rock doves, who inhabit sea-cliffs and rock ledges in the wild.
Modern cities are great at emulating pigeons’ natural ancestral habitats. The nooks and crannies found between city buildings are perfect for pigeons who would naturally roost in rocky, sea-cliffs. This is why you might often see ‘pigeon spikes’ scattered around roost-able locations.
Humans first domesticated pigeons roughly ten thousand years ago, and have since bred them for every possible purpose; for food, sports, exhibition, companionship, as war birds, and even for their droppings.
Pigeons have been used to carry messages across vast expanses of land since ancient times - from roughly 1000 BCE until 1948 CE. Their natural homing instincts aren’t fully understood, however there are several factors that could contribute to their success – such as their sensitivity to magnetic fields or ability to identify landmarks.
Pigeons also have keen eyesight and memory, however have difficulty flying towards home bases in the dark and in fog. Despite that, pigeons have an average speed of about 90km/h over moderate distances.
The Roman, Mongol and Persian empires all famously used carrier pigeons to send messages between political and military bases. The practice of using pigeons during wartime continued through World War II.
The British Expeditionary Force handled and trained carrier pigeons according to a strict routine during WWI. They were only fed once per day – always half an hour before sunset – and were never released near sunset, before sunrise or in fog. War messages were sent in duplicate by two separate birds, and male and female birds were not released together. Secret messages were always encoded in case the bird was killed or captured by the enemy.
In other applications, pigeons were a valuable resource for farming in 16th and 17th century Iran, or at least, their poop was. Pigeon guano – rich in nitrogen – was used as a natural fertiliser for melon and cucumber fields across Iran.
To gather this resource, dovecote towers were built to house the pigeons. Usually six stories tall and full of small roosts, each tower held as many as 14,000 pigeons – meaning a lot of pigeon poop.
Today, many of these pigeon towers have fallen apart from disuse, though some do remain in the Isfahan region of Iran.
Pigeons were domesticated for so many reasons, and were highly regarded as domestic birds for thousands of years. It wasn’t until at least the 1960s that their reputation declined – when they began being grouped with animals that spread disease, such as rats and other vermin.
Today, pigeons are continually regarded as pests. After thousands of years of human domestication, isn’t it a shame that we’ve suddenly cast them aside and relegated them to the status of vermin?
Perhaps it’s time to say sorry, and start sending pigeon post again...
audubon.org/news/the-origins-our-misguidedhatred-pigeons eh.org.au/documents/item/686 awm.gov.au/articles/encyclopedia/pigeons-in-war nuscimagazine.com/venerated-to-vermin-a-briefhistory-of-pigeons/ atlasobscura.com/places/pigeon-towers-iran
Words by Hannah Huang, design by Phoebe Gallagher
What are they thinking? Do they like me? Do they not like me? What impression do they have of me? Does my teacher like me? Will my teacher give me a good grade? What if he has lost interest? Damn her figure looks good. Why are they laughing? Why has she suddenly become cold? Why has he suddenly become belligerent?
Humans are engulfed by nonverbal communication on a daily basis. Our energy communicates our impression of someone at first glance. First impressions instantaneously determine how much you like someone, through the process of some subconscious internal communication which then manifests through your energy and behaviour towards a person.
We claim to strive to be unbiased, however after years of learning from our parents - and teaching our children - preconceived biases have become entrenched in our brains.
Subconscious communication tells us to discriminate, treat each other differently, and become self-conscious of how others will perceive us because of these views.
For instance, I hate that women are gaslighted by society and made to believe that they are just being dramatic or overthinking. Sometimes it is also women informing women to stop overthinking, or that ‘you get emotional too quickly, or angry too often,’ while everyone is apparently chill or ‘zen.’ I never understood, was it really me? Do I just lack emotional intelligence or the emotional strength to control my feelings and not get bothered by things?
Or the concept of toxic masculinity. My English teacher told me that it is rare for some men to talk deeply about their feelings with other men. Word for word, he described his experience as ‘We just say oh that’s tough, I’m here for you and then move on.’ Trivial societal views and values are hindering human progress at its finest.
Humans are supposed to have emotions and feelings, we’re supposed to discuss it with each other.
Statistics show that people of colour are still more likely to face discrimination and injustice, such as more employment disadvantages by subconscious employer biases and norms.
Traditional communication has become old and outdated, let’s throw it away, unlearn the old unhelpful beliefs and welcome the modern, developed, beneficial ones.
Dear Emily,
I’m really sorry about what happened last year.
I wanted to start with that because I know you thought I was trying to make you apologise, but I really wasn’t. Maybe you don’t want to hear it now, but I want to say why I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to end like they did.
I’ve never been good at friendship, Emily. I had a lot of trouble making friends when I started school. My best friend Alex might’ve been the first real friend I ever had. We were inseparable for a few years, but by the time you showed up in Grade 5, I was a little bit bored of having just the one friend, even though we were very close.
When you came along, I was so excited. Everyone liked you. You were so interesting, and you could’ve picked anyone to be friends with. But you picked us, and that felt amazing.
I was used to being rejected, not chosen. It felt great, and I got very attached to you because of that. In some way I knew it was too good to be true, and I almost saw what was coming before it happened.
You have to understand, Emily, I wasn’t mad at you for becoming friends with the popular girls, and wanting to divide your time between us and them. I was disappointed in myself because I thought you were leaving me. I had always known anyone who could have their pick of friends would not pick me. I think we probably both took everything the wrong way. You’re someone who’s good at making and keeping friends and I’m not. I guess it makes sense that we don’t understand each other very well.
Anyway, I don’t think you did anything wrong. And I hope you can forgive me for overreacting last year.
Sorry again,
Laura
Letters I Never Sent
Dear Alex,
I like to write letters sometimes because I think it’s easier to explain how I feel when I write it down, than if I say it out loud. I think it might help others to understand me better, but you’ve always understood just fine. I thought it might be good to write to you anyway. Lately I’ve been trying to write letters to people in my new friend group at high school. I just can’t open up to them and I thought a letter might help (though I haven’t actually sent any). I also write in my diary a lot. It’s easier than talking to people because there’s no one to judge what I’ve written.
I’ve been having a horrible time at my school. I’m stuck in a friend group where I can’t relate much to anyone, and don’t know anything about the things they like. Also, there are too many people. Some of them are nice, and actually are good friends, but I still feel alone. I don’t talk a lot anymore, either. I never have anything interesting or important to say.
I miss primary school, and I wish I’d gone to the same school as you, or my friends from after you left the school. They were always pretty nice and I doubt they’d care so much about things like Snapchat and whatever. My parents won’t let me move schools, though, because they think I’ll be happy here eventually. I’m not so sure at the moment.
I’m not sure how much longer I can keep going on like this, but I really have no other option. I wish someone could help me, and I guess that’s why I’m writing to you, Alex. You know me so well, and we have so much in common. I hope you might have some advice. If not, I’m just glad that we still talk all the time. It’s good to have someone to talk to, who listens and understands. I’ve never been afraid to open up to you. I think that’s why we’re still best friends.
Love, Laura
Words and illustrations by Caitlin Keele
Dear Ivy, I haven’t written a letter in a while.
I know that hardly anyone writes letters these days, but I used to write lots of them, and it wasn’t because one of my grandparents couldn’t text. I wrote letters because I believed in my writing a lot more than I believed that I could say what I needed to without messing up and making things worse. Sometimes I wrote them because there were things I couldn’t say out loud. Lots of the time it was because I was in a situation I thought I could help by communicating better. The reason I’m writing now is because you’ve helped me find the confidence to stop relying on letters that I never sent anyway. There were others who helped me, but you’ve taught me a lot. I couldn’t have gotten to where I am now without you. Just before you and I got to know each other, I didn’t really have any friends - at least, no one who I could sit with at breaks. I read in the library instead, and I hardly ever talked to anyone. You and I were in the same class but we’d never talked much, until one day we were partners in science, and I realised you were the friend I’d been waiting for. You introduced me to your friends, and in that group, I finally found my place. Even now, after all that’s happened since, I still have valuable friends who I met then. Once I was with you and the others, I started becoming more of myself again. You all accepted me as I was, so I didn’t care as much what others thought. I was happy, and it was thanks to you for inviting me into it all.
It didn’t stay like that forever, but that’s okay. After I got through the worst part, I somehow ended up with more friends and came to finally understand myself. You and I got closer, too. You taught me a lot and you were a great friend who truly supported me. There were others too, but I chose to write to you because of all that you’ve done for me. So thanks for everything.
…Maybe I could just tell you that when I see you next.
Love, Laura
The Australian Sign Language Alphabet
How do you say your name with the Australian Sign Language alphabet?
Design by Phoebe Gallagher
Design by Phoebe Gallagher
Use the template below to write a letter and fold it into an envelope! 1. Write your letter in the blank area. 2. Cut along the solid black lines. 3. Fold along the dotted lines. 4. Put a thin layer of glue along the side tabs and fold inwards. 5. Fold the lower half upwards and press along the sides to seal. 6. To complete your envelope, fold the top tab down, seal with glue, some cute tape, or even a sticker! Turn the page to see what will become the outside of the envelope!
Instead of words, whales use their own language comprised of clicks and whistles to communicate!
Design by Phoebe Gallagher
