The spectator

Something distant called war

Featured in

  • Published 20170502
  • ISBN: 9781925498356
  • Extent: 264pp
  • Paperback (234 x 153mm), eBook

I WENT TO a high school filled with smart kids. Kids who had been specially selected because their brains were somehow advanced. But they were only smart in the way they could read books and do tricky things with numbers in their heads. Many of them had no social skills; others were suffering from things that at the time had names like ‘attention deficit disorder’; and lots of them popped small pills to calm them down, or speed them up, depending on the time of day and what their parents demanded of them.

Wet weather seemed to bring out the feral in some of these kids. They became excited as the damp approached on the easterly winds, and something would click in their eyes as the rain began to beat down. Most of their pranks were petty and annoying, things like chucking stationary at the classroom fans, or throwing each other’s bags onto the roofs and spending the rest of the day devising plans to bring them down.

Already a subscriber? Sign in here

If you are an educator or student wishing to access content for study purposes please contact us at griffithreview@griffith.edu.au

Share article

More from author

Smiling faces of integration

Right now, in the face of fear, it is much easier to use the well-worn trope of refugee and migrant ‘success stories’. This is the typical format used by governments and corporate campaigns, as well as media, showcasing those who have overcome hardships, found light in Australia and are now in some way contributing to the economy.

More from this edition

Breaking the cycle

GR OnlineONE OF OUR family treasures, kept on my parents’ mantelpiece, is a photo of me as a baby being held by my grandfather in...

Peasant dreaming

MemoirI’m currently doing a course on holistic farming near the southern New South Wales town of Braidwood. I had expected it to be full of ruddy-cheeked cattlemen in their forties and fifties; instead it is mostly people like me, tertiary-educated thirtysomethings who want to grow their own food to nourish their vocations. We are writers, a ceramicist and a filmmaker; a market gardener with a background in conservation; the manager of a local farmers’ market and her partner, who feeds his chooks on maggots from roadkill kangaroos.

Stay up to date with the latest, news, articles and special offers from Griffith Review.