Australia Fare

The present animosity between New Zealand and Australia because of the Rugby World Cup Final is both contrived and hoary.
I say contrived, because most of it seems to me to be through the media which has taken some fairly innocuous comments by the respective coaches and blown them out of context and importance.
It is hoary because it is boring, not original and certainly cliched. I also don’t think it is a true representation of our feelings to each other, and is based, largely, on stereotypes.
Good natured ribbing between two nations is okay and we are not the only nations indulging in it—France and England, USA and Canada are others. The difference though is that those other countries went to war with each other: USA and Canada (1812), England and France (1799—1815), whereas what do Australians and we lob grenades at each other about? An underarm, a crowded house, a racehorse and a pudding.
Yet we are called “sworn enemies”. Really?
Now, you may, rightfully, accuse me of taking this too seriously. And I am. But I am only doing so because others—inside the media and out—are, taking the competitive nature of our two countries  and placing on it connotations and ramifications that it doesn’t deserve and for the most part don’t exist. By all means hope for an All Black (sorry, Michael: New Zealand) win but let us not over-indulge or succumb to this xenophobic nonsense which seems totally bereft of humour and grace.
We should be above that and Steve Hansen is.
Even if the Australians and Michael Cheika are not—just kidding cobbers. :)

Stuck in a Rudd

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Queenslanders have had a good week.

Not only did their team win the second State of Origin, their man won the prime ministerial post…back. Some say that both were foregone conclusions, and they are right though few could have predicted how emphatic the wins would be.  But that is not all they had in common; both were in a sense farces: in the case of State of Origin, the sin binning of four players (two from either side to even it up) was ludicrous and, if not addressed, could dilute the great game—a game which incidentally is perhaps more important to Queensland than Kevin Rudd. And Kevin Rudd’s win also had an element of farce about it—or at least very poor theatre. The Ruddless government of Julia Gillard never quite managed to navigate its way through the cauldronian conundrum—for conundrum it is—of Australian political life, particularly Labour life. Voters fled and the backroom contrived and connived. With a massive election and limousine loss looming something—someone—had to go. Gillard had to go, and she did. Ousted. It was predictable and understandable, but replacing her with someone who had already been there done that is questionable. So is how long Kevin Rudd will be there.

But somehow there has been something lost in the subsequent media coverage. Have a look at this series of headlines:

·      Was Julia Gillard a 'real' female prime minister, or a leader who was female?

·      Gillard's tumultuous term showed difficulties women face in top job

·      Gillard right to play gender card

·      Was Gillard a 'real' female PM?

There are other headlines of course but those I have selected are representative of a fairly large group focussing on two things, that Julia Gillard was female and the part that (may) have played in her defeat. That is disquieting because of what it says of Australian misogyny. When “our” Helen Clark was ousted there was nary a word about her gender—or lack of. Nor in Britain with Margaret Thatcher. Nor even in Pakistan with Benazir Bhutto. Yet in Australia gender is the first thing they point to when their first female prime minister is thrown out of office. There are even headlines saying that (Julia Gillard) has destroyed all chances of a woman becoming prime minister for a long time to come.
Was Julia Gillard simply an unfortunate experiment then?
In Australia, it seems so.

Or will Australians confound us all again and go the other way, so to speak?

Having tried a woman, will they now give a gay a go?

Speedos, anyone?

Please Miss

One of the effects and benefits of growing older and becoming a curmudgeon is one holds teachers in less awe, respect and reverence. Not that I have anything against teachers per se, it’s just that those sentiments, stemming back to childhood when teachers were the primary authority figure, are as hard to shake as Bill English and just as irrelevant. For example and until recently I would in the unlikely event of recognising my Primer Two teacher in the street likely still address her as Mrs Grimshaw and no doubt fawn upon her by reason of her being my erstwhile teacher rather than her being something in the order of 127 years old. That’s teachers for you. They command respect. Until you reach my age. Until you read, as I did this morning, that they are bemoaning the fact that they earn on average and after 15 years experience $52871.00 per annum. And what is the reason for this bemoanment? The sum? No. It is that Australian teachers earn more ($63447.00). So? Listen teachers, there is hardly a profession in which Australians don’t earn more. Live with it. The rest of us do. Stop whinging. And while we are at it, where do you get off publishing self-authored reports stating New Zealand teachers work harder for less pay, without presenting any evidence to support that dubious contention? I am sure that kids are just as obnoxious in Australia as they are here, so I am not sure why you work any harder. And while we are at it (2) what’s with the name of your union? NZEI Te Riu Roa? Oh so very politically correct. Why not something more simple and apt such as Consolidated Union New Zealand Teachers? Now, that I like!

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