Mr Peter Mcfarlane
I started writing poems since 1979 in Chinese. As I refugee I saw and experienced every type of suffering imaginable - death, hunger, sickness and many more. The innocence of my youth was lost to the war. It was only through poetry where I could express my anger, sorrow and pain.
On my arrival to Australia I was made to attend six months of a special English class. I was then placed into a main stream school Thorndon High School, now known as Charles Campbell.
I had many fond memories of high school and in particular my English teacher, Peter Mcfarlane. He motivated me to write and express my feelings through writing. He would praise and encourage me each time he saw my poems. He would often say, “How can a little head contain many weird and wonderful ideas?” There was once he asked us to write poem in a class. I wrote a poem called “Do You Believe that a Child can Die in the Middle of the Pacific Ocean?” Upon reading my poem I saw tears swell in his eyes. He sent it off to a publisher and it was published in an anthology called “Someone is flying Balloons”. In 1983 I received a letter from Harford University stating they wanted to use my poem and sent me a cheque. I was so proud and didn’t use the cheque at all. I also received two cheques from the publisher and two free copies of “Someone is flying Balloons”. To me this was one of my biggest achievements in my life.
Here is my poem I would like to share:
Do You Believe that a Child can Die in the Middle of the Pacific Ocean?
Do you believe a child can die
in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?
His boat in the middle of the ocean
the whole ocean surrounding him
while we have a soft drink
coffee or beer.
We say this coffee it too sweet
it’s not very good for our health
but he hasn’t even got a cup of sweet coffee
even a drop of water.
His mother’s tears can’t save him.
He looks like a dried tomato.
He holds his little hands tightly.
He dies with his eyes open.
God can’t even save him.
Nobody can save him.
You can hear
the sea wave’s cry and the wind call his name.
You can see
Hell waving to him.
He is dying
without a drop of water.
He is dead
in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.
1981
Mr Peter Wilson
Mr Wilson was a very kind and loving teacher. He was my first main stream teacher who taught me year 10 science. I remember him fixing his eyes on me as he taught his lessons trying to find a trace of understanding on my face. Yet it was such a pity that I could not understand anything he taught. One fond memory I have is his lesson on petroleum and how it was formed. After class he came and asked me if I understood his lesson. He found the answer by giving one look into my eyes. He then asked me to follow him to the library where he found a cartoon on petroleum. He sat and watched that tape with me. At the end he asked “Do you understand now?” I nodded and saw a sigh of relief from his face.
Every science lesson, he would check my face to see whether I understood. If I gave a puzzled look then he would stay back with me after school and give me a further explanation. He had great patience in teaching a foreign student like me. To this day I am grateful to have had and met a teacher like him.
Mr Ian Drummond
Mr Drummond was a very special Maths teacher to me. My sister and I had skipped many school years back in Vietnam during our escape so our mathematics was hopeless. We didn’t know what is unknown and how to find the unknown. He spent endless hours after school to coach my sister in year 11 maths. I sat in and listened to his explanations without knowing what he was talking about. Mr Drummond was a very patient teacher.
When I was in year 11, Mr Drummond was my maths I and maths II teacher. All the lectures that he gave my sister suddenly came flooding back. I understood calculus and trigonometry. Upon receiving every test result he would read out my name last. The anticipation made my blood pump so fast as he called it out. He would then give me a cheeky smile. At the end I excelled in year 11 maths and Mr Drummond was very pleased with my results.
One time I had a friend who had the same answers as me for a maths test. He asked me to stay back after class to investigate what had happened. I told him that I had not copied her and if he did not believe me then he should separate us for the next test. In the next test I almost got full marks whilst my friend failed her test. I still remember how angry Mr Drummond was.
Mr Drummond asked me what I want to do after I finish my matriculation. I said I didn’t know. He suggested becoming a mathematician. He gave me inspiration for a vocation I could aspire to.
I thank all great teachers from Thorndon High who helped us to grow and success.
