B e i n g F r a n k

So I’m at College of Law onsite from 5 to 15 May. Let’s just say the program lives up to the general consensus. The only thing I’ve enjoyed is the oral submissions. Last Friday was the chance to have a crack at a trial. Assigned to a role as counsel in cross-examination, I wasn’t going to let the chance slip by.

Briefly, the case was as follows. The accused is charged with armed robbery. Apparently he jumped a jogger late one night. The whole thing happened very quickly and the theory of the case for the accused is a that of mistaken identity. I was counsel for the accused, and in short set about demolishing his identification based on a prior statement he had given.

Q: Do you agree that your memory today is not as fresh as it was two months ago when the robbery happened?
A: Yes.
Q: You don’t have eyes in the back of your head, do you? (laughter in room)
A: No.
Q: So when you’re on the ground, face down, you can’t see the robber on top of you?
A: No.
Q: And when the robber was running away with his back to you, you can’t see his face?
A: No.
Q: The police arrive within 5 minutes after the robbery, right?
A: Yes.
Q: And you spoke to the police straight away?
A: Yes.
Q: And you told the police everything you saw about the robbery?
A: Yes.
Q: Because it was in your interest to have the robber caught?
A: Yes.
Q: So you told the police everything you saw about the robber?
A: Yes.
Q: In as much detail as possible?
A: Yes.
Q: Mr Blake, can you turn to page 2, paragraph 2 of the statement and read that to yourself
A: Ok. (reads statement)
Q: Mr Blake, when you spoke to the police, you did not mention anything about his hair colour, did you?
A: No.
Q: Mr Blake, when you spoke to the police, you did not mention anything about the length of his haiir, did you?
A: No.
Q: When you spoke to the police, you did not mention anything about his eye colour, did you?
A: No.
Q: You did not mention anything about his skin colour did you?
A: No.
Q: In fact Mr Blake, when you spoke to the police, the only thing you mentioned about his face was the fact that he had a beard, didn’t you?
A: Yes.

No more questions your Honour.

On Monday, after six years of tertiary education, I graduated from university. Like many graduand-cum-graduate, I attended the graduation ceremony in my finest shirt and suit, robed the graduation gown, donned the black mortarboard, walked pompously on stage, shook the Chancellor’s hand, collected my documents, and posed for many photographs. I was also aware of the symbolic value of the graduation - not for me, but for my parents. Looking around, I was left in no doubt this was consistent among the many other proud families there that day. But for migrant families such as mine, the symbolic recognition of my achievements is received even more greatly

The day of graduation is a momentous event for parents. In a way, it is the transition from youth into adulthood, where dependency ends and a career begins. Aside from these aforementioned milestones of personal development and maturation, the award of a university degree from a university recognised by all Australian employers is something that many migrant parents have learnt is not to be necessarily taken for granted. Sociologically, it is what Pierre Bourdieu identified as the workings of symbolic capital.

For many migrant parents who arrived in Australia with tertiary qualifications from their homeland, it was disappointing and demoralising to have their qualificiations not recognised or relegated to a lesser rank in Australia. Employers and government organisations such as NOOSR legitimise the misrecognition of comparative qualifications from overseas universities on the grounds of inconsistent learning or achievement outcomes. As a result, many Chinese migrants parents from my cohort of permanent residents endured a substantial relegation in social mobility. It’s not quite a PhD student working at Maccas, but university graduates with bachelor and even postgraduate qualifications working as cleaners or dishwashers isn’t exactly morale-boosting.

Thus, the day these parents see their child receive a degree from an Australian university is even more satisfying. The parents can now rest easy, knowing their offspring won’t suffer from this practice of misrecognition that marginalised their career aspirations in Australia.

From the eyes of the mums and dads, it is one less glass ceiling that needs to be shattered.

Perhaps it was foresight on the part of the Rudd Government *pauses…unlikely*, but the Rudd Bonus appears to be timed to perfection. With Mothers’ Day around the corner (10 May), 900 big ones won’t go astray for the many consumption-loving Australian children, young and old. No doubt many will see to their Rudd duty and buy up big. No wonder I’m seeing ads I don’t normally see in the newspapers for fancy jewellery, perfume and women’s clothing.

Wonder how many dads are asking for their own stimulation.

One father taking stimulation a bit too far...

As a cricket tragic, I always enter the Cricinfo fantasy competitions. They’re harder than they look: you have a salary cap so you must select the best players, with a limited number of interchanges throughout the tour. Anyway I succumb to my narcissism and publish the screenshots of my “achievement”.

I remember when I was a kid, I used to love apple stickers. They appeared on other fruits too, but apples led the way. The green Batlow stickers shone prominently amongst a bowl of red delicious apples. Nowadays, I find them a bit of a nuisance. Sometimes they aren’t that easy to peel off. Other times, they cling on to your fingers as you try to flick it into the bin.

Maybe it’s a sign of growing up. Sometimes we no longer have time for little, innocent trivialities.

How do you like them apples?

Monday, 27 April 2009: As the onset of the swine flu encroached upon our sense of security, the stock price of Biota Holdings, the maker of the Relenza drug, soared 81.61%.

Demand and supply doesn’t have sick leave. It can’t afford to.