It’s Monday morning and I’m trying to not look tired or hungry because if teachers think you are hungry they might think you are not being looked after properly by your parents and they might phone Dad. Miss Chapin is just the sort of teacher who notices things like children being tired or hungry. Being… Continue reading The Chariot
Author: chris pye
No Trespassers
Marj stands at the borderline, mustering the courage for what she must do. She has endured enough: The growling diggers uprooting her world, the concrete monstrosity growing up in its place, the arrogant tradies stomping over the strewn entrails of her former life.
Lucky For Some.
Adam Goodes, Yassmin Abdel-Magied and Jesinta Franklin are just three of the many cultural whistle-blowers who have dared to pierce the fragile veneer of this lucky-for-some country, at considerable personal cost. They have challenged us to sit with the difficult conversations that take us beyond the discomfort and shame, to reap the rewards of building a fairer, more inclusive, and more authentic story of who we are.
A Tough Tote with a Touch of Sass.
Hamish glanced at the bag I had set down as I entered the staff lunchroom, and reacted apparently without engaging a single critical faculty:
“That looks like a female bag”, he offered, immediately followed by a minor facial spasm, which suggested that his brain had just caught up with his inane verbiage.
Spray-can Hits Raw Nerve
I cannot for the life of me understand why anyone would choose the tedious complexities of a conversation about the trans-generational trauma unleashed by colonisation and the 250 years of subsequent oppression of First Nations Peoples over a simple, reassuring narrative about dole-bludgers desecrating our national heritage with their Marxist filth.
To Motherhood
I have yet to see so much as a brass plaque commemorating the unsung heroines of motherhood, to whom we are all indebted for whatever approximation of human civility they manage to wrest from the delinquency of our self-absorbed adolescence.
Us
"Nothing about us without us", he spat, flicking the words in my direction, like holy water intended to burn holes in my heathen postulations. We were discussing the plight of Queensland's Queer communities and the challenge of building and sustaining support systems in regional outposts.
Santa and the Virgin Birth
A belief in God assigns one to a life of deep contemplation or no contemplation at all, depending on one’s disposition.
The Tyranny of Potential
No longer indentured to conformity by the fear of failure, I suspect I may finally be reaching my potential and it looks nothing like I expected it to.
The Lesser of Two Weevils (OCD Memoir Part 1)
It is an irrefutable reality that once seen, an occupying weevil in one’s Alpine muesli cannot then be un-seen.
Chocolate Cake for the Brain 