Sunday, February 20, 2011


I was a Girl Guide in primary school for one year.  I sewed my  own badges on to an old school shirt of my brother's and set off each Friday evening to the hut just off Lower Dawson Road.  I started in Lyrebird patrol and part way through the year became seconder to Maree, a friend from school.  

There is something about badges that I just love and when I threw this shirt out I confess I kept the metal badges.  I did not mind working my way through many little tasks to earn my yellow trefoil. In my mind the weight of it in my hand at the end of that year matched any effort I'd made. 

Authority had been kind to me in my life thus far and I had no cause to rail against it.  There was something in me that was drawn to taking my own place up the totem pole in any way I could.  I was desperate to be school captain or house captain in primary school but had to settle for parts in the school play.  I joined the Student Council as soon as I could in highschool and when I was made school Vice-Captain in Year 10 I cried in relief as much as joy. 

Year 11 and 12 brought a chance to be on the "SRC" with lunchtime meetings to organise dances and fundraising.  There was no school captain at our progressively organised Senior School and certainly no prefect.   I was more than happy to settle for Co-Convenor of the SRC in Year 12 and have my picture in the local paper.   That was what I wanted to do.   To guide.

1 comment:

  1. Granma would be proud! She always wanted me to enjoy Girl Guides as much as she did, but I was a dropout!!


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