School Holidays Series Part One
by Quentin Cockburn
It’s something about school holidays. I like to think that being at home with the kids during holidays as distinct with being at home at any other stage of the year is precious. Perhaps the only precious thing is not being ‘deaded’ by the routine of getting up and off to school. During holidays we like to think that this “special time” will reinforce some intrinsic bond, and hope deep down that holidays will not be compromised by money, and the inescapable feeling that lots of it is what you need to have some fun. There’s roughly three categories for kids in the twenty first century. There’s the organised, totally organised school holiday. My son Jasper has a friend, of sporty persuasion in which every second is calibrated with attendance at sports clinics, footy camps, athletics, competitions, meets, and the parent’s sole function is to co ordinate the events and drive thousands of kilometres in search of “compulsory organised fun”. Invariably it instills as “fun” competition, routine, failure and winning. Preparation for the life “outside”. Then there’s the more standard, the realisation in spite of the anticipation that holidays, like war, can more often than not be boring. Telly, fish and chips, DVD’s, Nintendo’s and shopping with the odd excursion to Melbourne and more shopping. It’s a holiday spent safely inside. The final category, the traditionalists see holidays as an existentialist take on life in general. Going nowhere, nothing planned, minimal parent presence, and left to your devices, mucking about with friends. Being outside most of the time, doing the things you’re not supposed to do.
You see, it’s a dilemma for kids these days. I’ve said it before but the spike in teenage suicides is all our fault, we’ve so cosseted the growing up experience and made it safe that there’s nothing to do. I know you’ll be repelled by the “in my day”, but let’s take a cold hearted analytical look… What did we do? And how did it keep us from the mind numbing boredom and segway into Drugs? (Every Parents worst nightmare!!!) We built things from scraps gleaned from the tip, (Banned). We made great fun of fireworks, (Banned). We rode around all day on bikes without helmets, bakes, lights, (Banned). We tinkered around with old cars and drove into trees in paddocks, (Banned). We went swimming in creeks and lakes without supervision, (Banned). When we go a little older we bought ciggies, (Banned), and grog, (Banned), and did silly things like fire air rifles, (Banned). Lit fires, (Banned) and made explosives (Banned). Went on hikes without telling anyone where we were off to, (Banned), and Hitchhiked, (Banned) after seeing bands under-age( Banned). Explored sewers, (Banned). Destroyed derelict buildings, (Banned), and wandered down mine sites with candles and torches. (Banned)
Can’t find an outlet for simple fun, improvised fun, unstoppable fun like burning tyres and letting them roll ablaze down hills. We’ve crafted a generation or two stuck in boredom, doing what the most neurotic of us have crafted for them. T o shop, be good, and avoid DANGER.
The only recreation prescribed to our kids is to obsess about fashion, reality TV and consume.
As a counter we are building a Dalek. To drive round Bendigo, and anoint the most sinister over-designed spaces, (the mall) with a bit of science fiction counter reality.
On walks amidst the mine sites, (there are still plenty in Bendigo) the generational favourites of throwing rocks, pilfering and “quiet vandalism” still hold true. Building things from stuff gleaned from roadside collections, are the few “outlets” for a creative and restless spirit. They all involve kinetic, physical and chemical energy, that’s non compulsory and more fun. The message is eternal, keep it simple. Be fit, and enjoy one anothers company. For tomorrow one amongst us may become a banker.
TRAINEE BANKER