Jay Brooks finds long-lost grandfather, Katoomba Aboriginal football star Jackie Brooks through Google search

Jay Brooks, from Whalan in western Sydney, was determined to help his mother learn more about their family. Armed with a surname, suburb and birth certificate, the 34-year-old went online to unlock the past late last year.
After typing the words “Brooks, Katoomba, Eileen” in Google, clicking the enter key took just seconds to unlock decades of secrets.
A story by a Blue Mountains historian was in the top three searches, and it gave Mr Brooks and his mum all the answers they had been desperately searching for.
The book, Black and blue: The story of Walter ‘Jackie’ Brooks, Blue Mountains Rugby League Hero of the 1920s and 1930s, was written by Blue Mountains historian John Low.
The book focused on Aboriginal man Jackie and how rugby league helped him become well regarded by the community during one of Australia’s darkest chapters.
“Reading that article, it was the greatest moment of my life to be honest,” Mr Brooks said.
“Thank goodness to Mr Low, finally we had answers.”
From the article Mr Brooks found his mum Eileen Brooks was the youngest of five children fathered by Jackie Brooks with a European woman, Eileen Rutland.
The children, considered half-castes, were taken by the Australian Government and separately placed into foster care — victims of the Stolen Generation.
Eileen was rehomed as a baby soon after bulldozers moved in to destroy the Aboriginal settlement where they lived, known as The Gully community in Katoomba, to make way for a motor racing circuit.
“Some people went to work, came home and everything was gone,” Ms Brooks said.
“It makes me sick, my father must have thought he had lost me forever and left the area with a broken heart.”
Ms Brooks, who grew up in St Marys and still lives there, said until her son’s online investigation, she grew up being told she was of south sea island descent.
“I didn’t even know I was ­Aboriginal, no one would tell me anything so I believed the worst — I believed my father must have been a deadbeat but he wasn’t,” she said.
“He was the most popular figure in Katoomba, he had the shiniest shoes, he opened doors for ladies, he worked hard and was a great man.”
Sadly Jackie Brooks died at Redfern in 1968, when Ms Brooks would have been 11.
Ms Brooks remembers meeting a woman at St Marys train station when she was just a girl.
“I was told later that woman was my mother,” she said.
Since discovering the first article, Ms Brooks and her son have reconnected with cousins and even met with the article’s author, Mr Low. They have also come to know that Ms Brooks’ grandfather, known as King Billy, was the first to arrive in The Gully in the early 1900s.

Mum of former PM Paul Keating to be lovingly remembered

MINNIE Keating, the woman who raised a Bankstown family of over-achievers, including former prime minister Paul, has died aged 94.
Mrs Keating was left the head of the family after husband Matt died suddenly while running an errand as Paul washed the family car at their western Sydney home.
She provided the security for her four children to chase their ambitions, sometimes in raucous fashion.
Paul Keating has frequently and always lovingly referred to her.
He has not commented today but previously has spoken of the wrenching loss of his father.
“It’s always with me. You kind of never get over it. But you never want to get over it. There is a place for sadness and melancholy,” he recently told ABC TV of his father’s death.
A funeral notice today said Minnie Keating was “much loved mother and mother-in-law of Paul, Lyn and Tony, Anne, Greg and Kerry. Cherished grandmother of Elizabeth, Kate, Alison, Jane, Patrick, Caroline, Katherine, Alexandra, Sally, Shaun and Andrew, and their spouses and thirteen great-grandchildren”.
A mass for Minnie Keating will be offered in St Patrick’s Church, Grosvenor Street, Church Hill on tomorrow at 2pm. There will be a private internment.

‘Mum, could the doctor have made a mistake?’

Sophie seemed incredibly nervous; there was something she desperately wanted to ask her mother. Finally, she said it.
“Could the doctors have made a mistake? Could I have accidentally been born a girl? I should’ve been born a boy. Can that happen?”
Jo describes this pivotal moment as “terrifying.”
“‘I have to be honest. I can’t lie.’ That’s what went through my head,” she tells me.
Jo’s reply to her child’s pressing question was simple: “Yes, that can happen.”
Her emotions were not so simple.
“That was the hardest part, trying to be supportive to your child and act like it’s no big deal and inside you’re exploding,” she says.
There’s a lengthy pause and then Jo says: “I’m sorry. I’m trying not to cry just talking about it now.”
Reflecting on that crucial conversation with Sophie, Jo says she was both “terrified for my child” and “very sad.”
“Back then I knew nothing about having a transgender child.
“I didn’t know where I was going to go from here, what was going to happen, what sort of life my child would have.
“Also, the idea of losing my only daughter, as well, was quite sad. I really wanted a daughter and all of a sudden I was going to have two sons,” Jo explains.
Sophie got in to see the multidisciplinary team the Royal Children’s Hospital’s (RCH) Gender Service in Melbourne earlier this year and doctors confirmed what her parents already knew. She had gender dysphoria.
A person is transgender when their sex (physical appearance) and gender (a person’s inner sense of who they are) do not match. When it causes severe distress, it is referred to as “gender dysphoria.”
Based on a New Zealand study of secondary students, 1.2 per cent of the population identifies as transgender. Extrapolating from this finding, it’s likely that more than 44,000 Australian school-age children are transgender. It’s a huge figure. Taking into account the variation in school sizes, that’s an average of almost 5 kids in every typical school.
RCH’s Dr Michelle Telfer is one of Australia’s leading paediatricians in the field of gender dysphoria. She says people often ask the question: “These kids are so young, how can they know what gender they are?,” but to her it makes perfect sense.
“If you think about other children who don’t have gender dysphoria, they’re very clear at age two and three whether they’re a boy or a girl. “They know and they choose particular clothes and games and friends,” Dr Telfer says.
“[But] When we have a transgender kid who is just as sure about their gender but that doesn’t fit with our ideas of what is usual then we question them.
“Whether they identify with the gender that matches their physical body or not, I still think they can know,” she says.
RCH’s Gender Service had only one referral when it opened in 2003. Last year it received 104 new referrals and staff expect that number to double in the coming year.
Once Sophie understood it was possible that she was born into the wrong body, “his heart just became lighter … and I could see the change in him,” Jo says.
She uses the pronoun “he” because Sophie socially transitioned into a boy in October last year and now wishes to be called Max*.
“Max was just dragging us into social transition, which means he’s just wanting to live his life as a boy … wanting to change his name and have everyone know he’s a boy,” she recalls, explaining how rapidly things unfolded.
And suddenly, all the pieces fell into place.
“I knew this was what had been wrong all the time,” Jo says.
Before the transition, Max always requested to be called by boys’ names. He rejected girls’ clothes and toys from the time he was 18 months old.
“He wouldn’t just say, ‘No.’ He would violently throw them away,” Jo says.
More troubling was the sleeplessness and anxiety. Max’s insomnia reached such a fever pitch that a paediatrician prescribed him melatonin.
He’d also wake in the night screaming, trying to remove his girl’s pyjamas and would not sleep in a room alone.
When he school started last year, another set of problems arose.
“School is very gendered, so when he went to school … the anxiety sort of seemed to go through the roof,” Jo says.
Max would not play with other kids but instead sat “by himself, isolated, on the floor in the classroom,” his mother says.
With full support from Max’s school, Safe Schools Coalition Victoria (SSCV) was brought in to help both teachers and students understand his social transition into a boy. This included talking to Max’s prep class “in an age appropriate way” and answering all the kids’ questions.
While this happened, Jo took Max down the street.
“We came back to the prep class they all welcomed Max as a boy with his new name and they had this little celebration cake, which was really sweet and lovely,” she says.
These days Max still feels unhappy with his girl’s body, Jo says, but “he’s definitely a happy little boy in comparison.”
In Australia, medical interventions for children with gender dysphoria only commence in early puberty. Initial treatments are fully reversible. Surgical options are only considered once a young person turns 18.
“It was such a dramatic change,” Jo says, adding that Max “started sleeping that week in the room by himself with the door shut. It was like a miracle.”
Jo largely attributes Max’s relatively smooth social transition to his school.
“They couldn’t be more supportive, and so were the parents.
“I feel like the whole community has got our back,” she says.
But navigating the school system with a transgender child isn’t always easy. Emma* and her six-year-old daughter Matilda* had a vastly different experience to Jo and Max, despite Victorian Department of Education and Training guidelines stating schools must support transgender students.
Emma describes the approach of her daughter’s public school to Matilda’s social transition from a boy into a girl as a “go slow” and says this involved “putting road blocks” in the way.
Teachers resisted using Matilda’s chosen female name or using female pronouns. When she tried to insist, Emma says she found herself in the principal’s office along with the prep co-ordinator and Matilda’s teacher.
Emma says the principal told her: “We can’t do anything until we see a birth certificate. We really can’t use the female pronoun because it doesn’t say female on the birth certificate.”
In Victoria, you must be over the age of 18 and have undergone sex affirmation surgery to change gender on your birth certificate.
However Emma says the principal insisted it was “Department policy to see a birth certificate.”
“It’s misinterpreting the policy,” Emma says.
In that same meeting Emma says school staff questioned whether Matilda’s desire to affirm her true gender “was just a phase.”
When SSCV suggested to her daughter’s school that Matilda could use the girls’ toilets, Emma says staff responded with a “look of horror on their faces.”
In the end, Emma was worried she couldn’t trust the school to look out for Matilda’s wellbeing. She constantly worried about her being “embarrassed or humiliated” and decided to start her at a new school at the beginning of next term.
“I don’t want Matilda in that environment anymore,” she says.
As for Jo, she still worries about her son’s future. She knows “he’ll always have gender issues and he’ll have to work on that his whole life.”
However Jo believes Max’s transition was “a life and death choice.”
“If you look at the statistics, a child who is not supported with this sort of gender dysphoria is at huge risk of suicide and self harm.
“The main thing is that he’s alive,” she says.

Married at First Sight psychologist John Aiken turns his attention to making over unhappy families

The clinical psychologist, alongside child family psychologist Clare Rowe, has signed up for ABC’s three-part series Making Families Happy.
Over the course of eight weeks, the pair use scientifically-based strategies to help three families in crisis come together and transform their dysfunctional relationships long-term. And in addition, he also hopes to also improve the happiness of all families tuning in.
“When you take on an opportunity to be a psychologist on a TV show it’s not just about how you can help the people in front of you, but also what kind of reach it has to people who are sitting at home,” says Aiken.
“In this eight-week process, there are a lot of take homes for people who are watching.”
From tips on language to use to facilitate better communication to simple tasks and exercises families can do together to create better harmony, Aiken and Rowe bring a wealth of achievable material to the show.

But don’t think that it will be easy. Aiken says while they were almost all parties were keen to be in the project, each family struggled with the process of increasing their happiness score.
However as the weeks wore on, the adults began to notice major changes as they worked on presenting a united front as parents.
“They realised that if they are getting along well as a team — communicating well, supporting each other, no undermining, setting clear boundaries together — then the kids fall into line,” says Aiken.
“A lot of people think that if you fix the child, you fix the family. That’s not what we found. You fix the relationship and the family falls into line.”
Another key tip Aiken says he left families with on was the importance of spending time together.
“Family events on a weekly basis are important,” he advises.
“Ask open ended questions and get to know each person in the family — know what they’re afraid of, what they aspire to, what their likes and dislikes are. Get an understanding of what makes them tick. And always follow through on promises.”

Why I don’t trust women who don’t have female friends

IF CHICKS don’t have girlfriends, I find it hard to trust them. There. I said it. It may sound harsh, but I have to finally admit that it’s the truth.
Before you set my virtual home on fire, (it looks like Susan from Desperate Housewives’ cute cottage in case you were wondering) can you hear me out?
Over the years, my friends have become my family and while there are many different characters and types of people in my life, one thing that has held me accountable, compassionate, trustworthy and loving has been my girlfriends. You know, chicks that are mates. Mates with boobs. My sista from another mister.
I think your friends say a lot about who you are as a person. After high school, you make friends from all walks of life. Maybe university was one of the first times you met your new “grown up” friend. You had an instant spark noticing she had the same Bettina Liano jeans as you. You were both happy to skip class for incredibly important reasons like to find the best coffee nearby or head to the car park to refresh Ticketek for Summerdayze tickets.
The next place to find a friend was work. Your girl was the one who snort laughs. Or maybe she was the chick who was the only one to admit “Ah, I don’t get it”. Love at first sight right?
Maybe you and your new BFF met through past boyfriends, where you find yourself, like me, bagging out your current beau and coincidence has it she is also over her current man. Besties for life, right?! WRONG.
While all of these options may be a solid way to find a great match, the one major question you need to ask yourself in order to find your laughing buddy, your D-floor companion for life or the Grey’s Anatomy marathon partner is always:
Do they have other girlfriends?
When I look at chicks, just like Taylor Swift, who surround themselves with women, I immediately think supportive, non-competitive, non-threatened, nice, fun. Not necessarily perfect, but happy to have a look in the mirror if their girlfriends call them out on bad behaviour.
I’m talking about the type of girls who know that friendships take work and when the going gets tough the answer the phone, even when they are with that cute boy, or are 86 pages from finishing Gone Girl (Yes I STILL haven’t finished it. No spoilers please!)
When I meet girls who don’t have girlfriends, I ask myself the question: why not? Did you not answer the phone? Did you compete with your mate to the point it was the dating Olympics? Are you mean?
Making girlfriends may not be easy for everyone, but I do feel the majority of women could name at least one girlfriend who is a mate. Well at least the women I know and trust.
While many of us are aware of how important gender equality is in our workplaces, at home, in our romantic relationships and in sport, we can’t forget, from time to time, to turn the mirror on ourselves too. A big part of this challenge is women turning on other women and females not standing up for each other.
If you find it difficult to maintain friendships with chicks, are you asking yourself why? Because I am asking myself when I meet you.

Tips for good modern day etiquette

And good protocol at the table is not about hobnobbery and snobbery, it’s about knowing how to feel comfortable in a social situation and put others at ease.
That’s right, the underlying principle of having good manners is more about the company you’re with than it is about you.
Julie Lamberg-Burnet, Director and Founder of the Sydney School of Protocol says our awareness of etiquette started slipping in the late 80s and 90s.
“That's driven by technology because we’ve become so reliant on digital communication,” Ms Lamberg-Burnet told news.com.au, “and there's a whole generation who’ve overlooked having a face-to-face conversation so everything’s been broken down to become very casual.
“People rely on technology so much that they’ve forgotten how to have a meaningful conversation and have good eye contact, we’re all distracted, but you need to focus on the person you are with.”
Ms Lamberg-Burnet adds that timepoor parents are also to blame for our younger generation’s lack of manners.
“Etiquette and manners for the most part come from your parents as children and these days parents are busy and if you don’t have a mentor, it can get lost along the way. It’s important for parents to realise etiquette is a life skill and a social skill.”
Fast food has also created a situation where children don’t actually sit at a dinner table.
“They have no concept of setting a table because they're sitting in front of a television,” Ms Lamberg-Burnet adds, “but the casualness of dining means there does need to be a little bit of experience of knowing in other settings what’s appropriate.”
And as our love of food and rapidly expanding global economy forces us to socialise and conduct business at the table more than ever before, our table manners need to be up to speed.
Ms Lamburg-Burnet says business deals and job opportunities can be won and lost over a person’s knowledge of etiquette.
 “A business deal can actually be undone over a business table and a lot of corporates these days are taking people who are applying for roles — particularly in law and financial services — to a hosted environment to see how they’re interacting and how they're handling themselves in a social situation, and it can be a deal-breaker,” she adds.
But above all else, etiquette is how to build relationships and how to put people at ease.
“People now appreciate knowing how to act in situations and how to not act clumsy or awkward and then they shine because they're not worried about which piece of cutlery to pick up or how to make a great first impression.”
Tips for good modern day etiquette:
• When eating bread at a restaurant always break off one small piece at a time rather than place the whole portion in your mouth.
• When taking butter from a dish, always transfer it to your plate first and then spread from the portion on your plate
• Leave your napkin on the seat should you excuse yourself and slide your chair in under the table when you leave
• Don’t wave your cutlery around while speaking, keep your hands down low, including when buttering your bread
• Always hold a wine glass by the stem
• Always leave a small bite of food on your plate to indicate you were satisfied by the meal
• Always introduce yourself using your full name
• Never place personal items such as a mobile phone, wallet, keys or sunglasses on the table
• Never start eating before your host does, use them as your cue
• Your bread plate is always on the left side, your glassware on the right
• Familiarise yourself with the correct finishing and resting position for your cutlery
• Remember, above all else, dining is more about the conversation and less about the food

Stitch helps over-50s find companions for life and travel, not just dating

When the Australian entrepreneur was starting social media platform Tapestry in the US, he began encountering the issue of social isolation.
So he created Stitch, a website to help over-50s find companions, travel, attend local events and activities, or even find love.
“It started with seniors, but I found (social isolation) was actually common and you don’t need to be all that old,” Mr Dowling said.
“So I created Stitch, for anyone from 50 and above, people who’ve left a part of their life behind and are no longer looking for a partner to have kids with.
“When you’re younger, you have opportunities (to meet people) like going to uni, having kids, then when you get to a certain age your friends start to move away, you retire, you get divorced.”
Mr Dowling originally launched Stitch in San Francisco last year, growing to more than 3000 members in six months.
But with half his team based in Australia and the majority of “foreign” membership requests coming from his home country, Mr Dowling knew it was time to bring it to Sydney.
Stitch will first launch on the north shore and Central Coast when it has enough registered members, hopefully by the end of June.
“Our first target is to grow to 5000 members in the Sydney area,” Mr Dowling said.
“We’ll then start work on building the community so that it can touch the lives of millions of over-50s right across the country.”
Mr Dowling said while there were lots of dating sites for over-50s, he believed his was the first site aimed at companionship.

To sign up and start connecting with possible friends, visit stitch.net

WHAT IS IT?
Stitch founder and chief executive Andrew Dowling describes the business as a way for over-50s to have a socially engaged life and overcome loneliness, without having to use a standard dating site.
“It’s not just about dating. Romance is part of it, but it’s about the broader need for companionship,” he said.
■ Users can create profiles, which allows them to browse other profiles, meet members, attend local events, travel and join in the online community.
■ In the US, Stitch has run cruise events, where members can go on a general cruise but participate in member-only activities.
■ They also connect members who have similar interests, with some going on to travel with their new friends, meet up for group events locally, or learn languages together.
■ To ensure the site is as safe as possible, Stitch requires all users to go through an identity check before they can talk to any other users.
■ Stitch offers both free and paid plans, depending on how much interaction is wanted.

Calls for domestic violence lessons to become a core part of the school curriculum

The federal government is facing calls to ensure young Australians are better educated about the dangers of violent intimate relationships through the new national curriculum.
Currently there is a provision to teach children about “respectful relationships” in the revamped Health and PE curriculum, which is still awaiting formal endorsement from the Education Ministerial Council.
But anti-domestic violence advocates argue it does not go far enough, because it leaves it up to schools to determine whether to include any specific reference to family violence when teaching kids what respectful relationships look like.
Australian Curriculum, Assessment and Reporting Authority general manager Phil Lambert, who is also a White Ribbon Day Ambassador, says the curriculum as it stands provides “a good starting point for schools to teach about domestic violence issues as required”.
But Dr Lambert said specifically incorporating domestic violence “would lead to a crowded curriculum.”
Domestic Violence NSW chief executive Moo Baulch said schools needed to better appreciate that many children are exposed to the issue through the media or their own life experiences.
“I absolutely think it should be a core component of the curriculum,” she said.
Brisbane Domestic Violence Service team leader Kylie Robertson said research showed early intervention, and talking to children about unhealthy and violent relationships, was a critical weapon in the fight against the scourge of domestic violence.
“We need to be thinking about what we would say was most important when it comes to educating and influencing young people, and what we can take out (of the curriculum) to put these things in,” she said.
NSW: domestic violence register to expose potential abusers
Education Minister Christopher Pyne last night said he would support “any steps” that can be taken to eradicate domestic violence in our community, but he defended the current curriculum as “appropriate”.
“The National Curriculum also offers opportunities for students to learn about respectful relationships and I think this is appropriate,” he said.
“We can always do more, but while teachers and schools can do a lot, it is parents and other members of the community who are the most important role models for children on what is acceptable behaviour.”
Children’s Commissioner Megan Mitchell said she would be exploring how the national curriculum enables children to learn about respectful relationships as part of her investigation into family violence.
OurWatch chief executive Paul Linossier said programs teaching children about family violence need to be on offer in primary and secondary schools.
“Relationships are so important to young people, it’s the lens through which they see their life and in our experience they are very open to (learning) about it,” he said.

A letter to my real mum, Madonna

TO MY real Mother,
Even though we’ve never met, your influence has permeated and directed my every move since I became aware that you were, in fact, my mum. When I saw you standing naked except for a pair of sky high stilettos and a cigarette dangling between your crimson lips on your Girlie show tour poster — the day I realised who you truly were, I knew that from afar you would ensure my path in life by setting a sterling example in your own.
Today I wish to thank you, Madonna Louise Veronica Ciccone, for helping me to become the woman I am today.
Darling Mother while there is no biological proof of our connection, in my heart I know that in 1978 you made a secret trip to Australia where you met and fell in love with a small, wiry, Italian guitarist named Vincenzo. You had a wild one night stand in a seedy motel room and then 9 months later gave birth to me in a public toilet.
Not knowing what to do, and with no-one to turn to you left me wrapped in a studded, fringed leather jacket on Dad’s doorstep. You then ran away to New York to pursue your dreams, never to be heard from again.
Dad and I have never actually spoken about this however I can tell by looking into his eyes that that’s EXACTLY what happened. In 1980 you joined a punk rock band called “Emmy”, which is what my family call me. In my mind that is proof enough.
Mother Madonna you were the first outspoken, short haired, muscular Italian woman that I had ever encountered. You were just like me, only you touched your vagina in public way more than I did. You were fierce, unapologetic and didn’t give a f*** about what other people thought of you.
When I was 10 years old you released Like a Prayer and that song changed everything. It also resulted in me setting fire to the lounge room when I attempted to recreate your burning crucifix scene from the video clip, my other Mother was extremely upset with me but I knew that you would’ve approved of the green shag pile carpet being sacrificed for art.
As an 11 year old you were the reason I bonded with the AIDS patients at the infectious disease hospital my other Mother worked at. I would hang out with them in the hospice talking only of you. These glorious men of course believed me and once I told them that you were my real Mother they would immediately tell me how much we looked alike.
Mother we also share that in common, the gay community continue to lie to me, love me and hold my career up as well.
Now at 36, but still looking 29, I too find myself somewhat in the public eye. I’m Australia’s Madonna. Don’t google it, just trust me.
They may not know it yet but I have enough belief for everyone. I have two daughters and I am also in show business, that gene runs strong with us. I’m a singer, a writer and a stand-up comedian. We are exactly the same except for the millions of dollars, world wide fame and 20 year old back up dancer/lovers.
Much like you I have spent my career being told I am too everything. Too loud, too opinionated, too scary, too strong, too much. I did a soul destroying stint on Breakfast radio in Perth, and my first month there I was subjected to a ‘listener advisory board meeting’. This involved inviting listeners in, putting them in a small room, putting me in another room where I could hear everything that was being said, stuffing them with free pizza and asking them to verbalise all the things they didn’t like about the on air team. In this case it was just me. I was made to listen to people say things like “Her voice is so annoying,” “She seems like a complete bitch,” “She is SO opinionated”.
During my time on air I received various threats, battled against both my co-hosts and my boss to attempt to maintain some sort of dignity on air and had things written about me in online forums that I felt only I had thought about myself in my darkest moments.
I was constantly told that who I was wasn’t right, that I needed to change in order for people to like me. That I was a diva and impossible to work with. To be fair, I probably was a lot of the time.
It wasn’t all bad, but I was lost in the wilderness, questioning all that I am for most of it. I hit rock bottom less than a year in when I found out I was expecting my second child and knew that could mean certain death for my career.
Then, in late 2005 you came back to me, you showed yourself again, resplendent in a pink leotard releasing “Hung Up.” It was yet another brilliant reinvention an up yours to anyone who dared call you irrelevant.
I felt reborn, powerful and sure-footed once more. I ended up quitting that radio job, moving back in with my parents and writing my first ever one woman stand-up show. I haven’t looked back since. I, like you, prefer to perform sans pants.
Thank you for showing me that it is OK to be both a devoted Mother and on a podium drenched in glitter. That I can remain fiercely myself and still raise impressive offspring. I am so sorry that recently you have been heavily criticised for daring to still have a career. I’m sorry that it is mainly women tearing at you, the same women who probably wore lace fingerless gloves, multiple cross necklaces and belted Cherish into their hairbrushes.
Thank you for maintaining the rage you magnificent bitch, here is to the next 30 years and our eventual emotional reunion.

10 conversations you’ll have with your mum on Mother’s Day

To help you prepare for the big day, I’ve compiled the 10 conversations you will have with your mum at family lunch.
1. “You can’t say that, Mum!”
Mums are the most accidentally, politically incorrect people on earth. Their innocence provides no filter when delivering some juicy local gossip.
They never mean harm but sometimes don’t realise their choice of words can sound a tad racist.
Mum: The Asians who run the newsagents have moved house.
You: That sounds racist, mum!
Mum: I’m not being racist, Nathan! They are Asian aren’t they?!
And I won’t forget this little nugget from my mum not long ago:
Mum: She has two daughters — one is a teacher, the other one is a lesbian.
Me: Mum, lesbian isn’t an occupation.
2. “Guess who’s dead?”
Mothers love a good death don’t they? Morbid to say — but it’s the truth.
Is my mum the only one who reads the death notices in the paper scouring for a name they recognise? It’s done with the best intentions “I better make the family a casserole”
Have you noticed when someone in your family dies, mysterious casseroles appear at the front door? You have mums who read death notices to thank for that!
3. “I need your help with my iPhone, your father won’t help me”
It has been a 3-year commitment from my siblings and I to try and teach mum how to use her iPhone. Your mother will ask you at one point how to use a certain feature, how to take a photo, or how to answer it when it rings.
Mums seem incapable of comprehending how to swipe the screen right to answer the iPhone — they’d be awful at Tinder.
But be patient when teaching her. If you lose your temper you’ll get “you sound your father!” thrown at you.
4. “That’s not my name”
My mum (after her third Mimosa) often forgets my name (you know, the one given to me by her at birth). My mother has 6 brothers and I am often exhaustively called each of them before she finally arrives correctly at my name.
5. Facebook
Almost all mums have jumped on Facebook now. Hijacking statuses, commenting on your friend’s photos and embarrassing you with FDOA (Facebook Displays of Affection). We all have to deal with it.
This mothers day I plan to teach mum how to stop posting her CandyCrush scores on her newsfeed. Wish me luck!
6. The Live Bachelor Episode
My close single girlfriends have donated this one. They have told me their mums will always make a point of (not so) subtly pointing out single and available men around.
Mum: Helen’s eldest son has opened his own taxation firm, he’s single too, do you remember him from high school?
You: Brad? Mum, Brad’s gay!
Mum: Oh he is not! He’s always dressed very well. Anyway, give him a call.
7. Impromptu Charades
Your mum will be keen to share with you her thoughts on the latest film release she’s seen. The issue is, she will never know the name of the movie and the game of trying to guess which one she’s talking about is excruciating.
Mum: I saw that movie.
You: Which movie?
Mum: You know the one!
You: Which one?
Mum: The one with that actress!
You: Mum, that could be any movie
Mum: You know the one that I like! She was in that other movie with thingo ... that actor … what’s his name?
(This goes on for another 14 minutes)
8. Royal Baby
Fact: All Mums are monarchists.
So the latest royal baby is one of the highlights of the year for your mother!
Get your head around the basic royal baby news because she’s gonna wanna talk about it — the delivery, how Kate’s looking, and there may even be a few tears for Princess Diana.
Mum: “Diana would have loved a granddaughter” *starts tearing up.
9. Awkward medical check.
Catching up with Mum always means free medical advice, bulk billed of course.
The questions are personal and awkward.
“Have you had a prostate check lately, Nathan?”
“I hope your self checking your testicles for lumps when you shower, you have to stay on top of these things, Nathan!”
10. The “gift” lie
Each year, your mum lies to you about presents.
“All I want is a nice meal with my family.” or “Seeing you is present enough.”
Oh shut up! We don’t buy that for a second. Everyone wants presents. Go grab that new Human Nature CD or a Soap and Hand Cream pack from the Body Shop and shower your Mum with gifts.
She deserves it.

When my friend John became Jennifer

I PICKED up the phone and heard a vaguely familiar voice on the line.
“It’s Jennifer,” said the caller.
“Jennifer who?” I asked.
Pause. The high-pitched voice dropped several octaves. “You used to know me as John.”
To say I was thunderstruck is to underestimate the power of nature. For I remembered my old friend John Leitham as a smart, talented and handsome, if somewhat effeminate, musician who was decidedly male and presumably straight.
And here was my pal crushing my sense of reality with this seismic sexual shift.
“I’m still the same person I always was,” Jennifer tried to assure me. “You don’t just undergo the operation and become a woman. I’ve always been a woman. I’ve been a woman from the moment I was born.”
I avoided speaking with Jennifer for the next several years.
People all over are reacting with shock at the budding breasts and long hair sported by Bruce Jenner. At age 65, the thrice-married father of six and 1976 Olympic gold-medal decathlete is transforming before our eyes into a woman.
Jenner is to discuss this sexual transition on the E! reality show Keeping Up with the Kardashians. Jenner is also set to speak on a new, unscripted E! reality show and to talk to Diane Sawyer on ABC News.
Earlier this month, Jenner was involved in a car crash that resulted in a driver’s death, law enforcement authorities said. Now the sex-change process is slowing down — but not stopping — a source told Radar Online.
John and I met during a summer when I was in my teens and he was in his 20s. We both worked at a country club — he as a bass player in the lounge band and I as a waitress. Late at night, after the band’s schmaltzy singer had left, I would wander into the lounge and listen to the jazz musicians play. During a break in one of these jam sessions, I told John I was a fan of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, whose male star played a kinky transvestite.
John confessed to me he enjoyed dressing in women’s clothing. Big whoop?
I lent John my eyeliner and pantyhose, figuring that dressing in drag was a harmless quirk.
Years later, I wondered if the cross-dressing triggered something deeper. What had I helped create?
Jennifer is now 61, lives in California with two rescued cats, and still performs and records jazz. She underwent sex-reassignment surgery in 2001 at age 48 and received hormone treatments but not breast augmentation. This was hard for me to accept because I believed in the old adage: “God doesn’t make mistakes.”
But then, He also created someone so unhappy about being saddled with a penis that she went under the knife to correct what she believed to be a cosmic error.
Jennifer told me she still dates women primarily, but also has been involved with men. After a while, I realised I’d played no role in bringing about her sexual reinvention.
I plan to watch the 2012 documentary about her transition, I Stand Corrected, which has not been distributed but played at film festivals.
According to a study from the US National Gay and Lesbian Task Force and the National Center for Transgender Equality, a staggering 41 per cent of transgender and “gender nonconforming” individuals reported having attempted suicide, compared with 1.6 per cent of the general population.
Nearly four times as many of these folks live on less than $10,000 a year, compared with other people.
Since the sex change, many friends have abandoned my friend. She was fired from a high school where she taught music.
But there isn’t a day that she regrets becoming Jennifer.
“I’m so frigging normal,” she said.
I wish Jennifer Leitham well. Bruce Jenner, too.
I admire their bravery.

I was maid of honour for the girl I bullied mercilessly for years

A lot of people assume when kids are mean, they don’t really know what they’re doing; that they’re harmless. I knew exactly what damage I was causing, because I’d been a victim of it for years.
From when I was seven to thirteen, I had no friends. And I wasn’t just left alone to get on with life; kids made fun of me constantly. I had braces for years, granny-floral glasses and, best of all, warts on my hands and arms.
And my personality changed to fit the profile, too. I wouldn’t understand for many years that people, particularly kids, absorb the identities they are given by others.
I developed nervous tics, including counting everything I did in eights, right down to the pieces of toilet paper I used.
I obsessively repeated whatever people said to me under my breath, over and over again until someone else spoke to me and I’d change the sentence.
Once in the girl’s locker room I became so frustrated with the other girls sharing inside jokes I wasn’t a part of, I slammed the hairbrush I was holding onto the floor. It terrified the girls, making them more inclined to shout “freak.”
It terrified me, because I felt like one.
I was just relieved when Flick joined the school; everyone who picked on me had moved onto her.
In my school, tormenting others was the top social currency. I soon realised that if I joined in with everyone else, maybe I’d finally be accepted.
Ironically, I didn’t really like the cool kids. I had nothing in common with them, nor they with me. The person I liked the most was this girl I made cry every day.
When we first met, at the school’s “Welcome Day” for new students, Flick seemed so comfortable in her own skin that she gave off a magnetic energy. She wore a rainbow tie dye tops and jelly sandals (which I loved but my parents never let me get). I so desperately hoped that she would be my friend.
I only stopped bullying Flick when a teacher forced me. It was humiliating when she made us apologise to Flick, reprimanding us for such shameful behaviour.
Later, we discussed how we couldn’t believe Flick lied and said we were bullying her.
Too scared of punishment to go near Flick, the girls soon turned their cruelty onto me.
I was confused — hadn’t I proved myself to be just like them?
Everything came to a head when I was invited to a “cool girl” sleepover.
They wiped cake on my face — and I let them.
I slept backwards in my sleeping bag so the hood would cover my face and they couldn’t draw things on me while I slept.
They put my hand in a bowl of hot water so I wet myself.
Flick quickly offered to be my friend.
She’d gotten herself some of her own by that point — other girls who had been bullied.
There were no questions, no conditions; I wasn’t reverted to the bottom of a food chain because with them there wasn’t one.
It turned out that Flick and I had a lot in common; boy-obsessed, emotional, big on daydreaming.
We shared secrets, we made each other scrapbooks.
We were normal teenage girls.
Years later at Flick’s dinner table, her kid sister burst out, “Didn’t you used to bully Flick?”
I froze.
Flick replied, “Yeah … how embarrassing for her!” She winked at me, a familiar expression.
That night, I gave her an overdue apology.
“When it happened to me, I wanted to die sometimes,” I said.
“Yeah,” she replied. “I know what you mean.”
Today, my best friend is winning at life. She graduated from the University of Cambridge after a year volunteering in Uganda.
She survived a motorcycle crash in Kampala and calls it a “funny story.”
She got her nose pierced. She still loves rainbow coloured anything.
And last summer, I walked down the aisle as her Maid of Honour.

SO WHERE TO FROM HERE?

“In the workplace you may be able to just not talk to someone, or you might get another job. In a friendship you might have to wean the friend off, turn them straight,” suggests Dr Bambling.
“But in a relationship, it will put it on the line. It’s far more complicated, it takes time to unravel the feelings. Communicate clearly and effectively, see how they react. The world’s out there to practice in, these relationships help us to define ourselves and work ourselves out, to ensure that you do have positive relationships. If you’re attracted to a certain type, learn to avoid it. Know it’s unhealthy.
“I’m a big believer in relying on how you feel in these kinds of situations,” he adds. “If it feels uncomfortable, trust your feelings, trust your instincts.
“That little voice in your head is there for a reason. You need to listen to it before you become too emotionally invested in anything at all.”

TOXIC LOVERS

“This is much more complicated because people become emotionally attached very quickly,” says Dr Bambling. “It has a lot to do with our upbringing and personalities. If we don’t have the best self image we can be quite vulnerable to being manipulated by people.
“The toxic person is probably not evil. This is the way they make themselves feel safe, but it’s at the expense of everyone else, and it’s heightened in a romantic relationship. You will have to compromise who you are — your needs and emotions.
“These relationships are potentially dangerous because they can do what they want, but you’re not allowed to. The aspect of control is big here. There are two rule books — one for you, one for them.
“What’s their behaviour if you assert a need? Do they empathise and respond or do they argue the case? Do they dismiss your perception of reality? Do they excuse their behaviour by saying things like ‘I’m just trying to make our lives better’?
“You’re likely to be used as an emotional prop and it will take everything you have.
“It’s amazing how quickly people go rushing into [these kinds of relationships] without thinking first,” Dr Bambling adds. “It’s so important to get to know the person first, observe them, assess them.
“Can they manage their own feelings, are they able to take care of themselves, do they fall apart or rage when things go wrong, are they easily frustrated, do they have good relationships with friends and family? If those things are absent, you need to extend your observation. Spend time checking them out before going in boots and all.”

TOXIC COLLEAGUES

“The boundaries are a little stronger here than in any other kind of relationship, but look for people who don’t respect those boundaries, who demand more,” he explains. “If people want you to align with them, gossip with them, that’s a warning bell. They might want to be your friend because of what you do. If people are disliked by others there’s probably a reason. You don’t need to get on ‘their side’ or create justice for them.
“Also look at how they talk to people — are they subtly critical? Do they try to get you to do things, or offer approval as a way of getting you to do things? Do they have a limited capacity for empathy?”
For any of you who have ever done those “How to spot the psychopath in your office!” quizzes, warning bells might be going off right about now.
“There is always a danger,” says Dr Bambling. “An element of this toxicity is that these people in their extreme forms get into psychopathy or sociopathy. They have no capacity to relate to another person’s feelings, they are unaware of their behavioural impact. When you see them brutalise and go for people who they see as not meeting their needs, they can annihilate them. They use other people to make themselves look good. All of us need to develop boundaries and communicate more so we can negotiate our way through these situations.”

TOXIC FRIENDS

 “Be wary if someone wants to be your friend way too quickly — it can be attractive to have people wanting to be around you, but don’t just embrace somebody as being your long lost best friend. Get to know them, observe their behaviour over time,” warns Dr Bambling.
“If you tend to be too trusting it can be like a moth to a light. They’ll start pushing all the buttons. So, get to know the other person first.
“Ask yourself simple ideas: Are they going to be nice to you? Can I ask them questions? Can I talk to them without being afraid of how they’ll react? Are they hiding information? Is there a history of poor friendships and unstable relationships?
“People in this situation are highly manipulative. They’ll ask you do more and more for them, want endless amounts of time, want you to go out of your way and drop everything.
“When people who are like that get frustrated, they protest and push harder. If that doesn’t work they might drop you and move on, or they might become very unreasonable, talk negatively, in some cases become violent.
“They are not able to tolerate not getting their own way. It’s immature — the attitude is, people are there to gratify my needs.”

How to avoid toxic relationships and poisonous people

MANY of us have had difficult relationships in our lives. But what is the difference between a relationship being hard, and a relationship being downright unhealthy?
As characters like Gone Girl’s Amy Dunne and Game of Thrones’ Joffrey Baratheon cement their place in pop culture, it’s only natural to reassess and question your own relationships.
Add to that a character or two from Paula Hawkins’ newly released book The Girl on the Train (it’s touted as the new Gone Girl but don’t worry, we won’t spoil the ending for you) and it’s safe to say that we’re becoming obsessed with analysing the behaviours of our nearest and dearest and everyone in between.
All those references aside, any kind of relationship with a ‘poisonous person’ (let’s not jump to psychopath conclusions yet) can be terribly damaging.
But what does a poisonous person actually look like in real life, and how can we avoid getting into a relationship one?
Well, for starters, they’re more common than you’d think, according to Clinical Psychologist Dr Matthew Bambling from The University of Queensland’s School of Medicine.
“Oh it’s extremely common,” Dr Bambling, who among many things specialises in relationships, psychology, psychiatry, behaviour and mental health, said.
“People can grow out of this kind of behaviour, but unfortunately many times people seem remarkably stuck in their way of being, so it can end up being toxic.
“A lot of the behaviours exhibited are stuff everybody already knows, but it’s helpful to talk about it and draw lines around the situation.”
Some of the behaviours Dr Bambling suggests to watch out for across all kinds of relationships are a disrespect of boundaries, being asked to do more than is necessary, and a tendency to manipulate to get the outcome they desire.
“There’s often an element of egocentricism to these kinds of people as well — they look at other people as a way to get what they want,” says Dr Bambling.
“They also tend to have an increased sense of entitlement. When you look at the other person’s behaviour, are you noticing that they are constantly demanding things? Are you emotionally having to provide support for them all the time? Are you feeling like somehow you’re responsible for what they’re feeling, or for the problems they have? These people are very good at making us feel like we’re responsible for what’s going on in their lives,” he said.
If you have a tendency to be drawn into unhealthy relationships, here’s what to look out for among your colleagues, friendships and partners.

Australians don’t know our neighbours anymore

My 14-month-old has been attending a daycare centre for a few months.
Every day I pick him up and his teacher tells me about his growing “friendship” with a particular little girl.
I also get a daily newsletter, which includes pictures of the two cute toddlers playing together.
I mentioned to my husband that it would be good to get to know the parents — maybe one day we could arrange a play date outside of daycare.
Last week my mother-in-law was taking my son for a walk when our next-door neighbour was also leaving their house. She introduced herself, and asked my boy’s name, and whether he attended the local daycare centre. They soon realised that our kids are best friends at the centre, yet we didn’t know they literally share a common bedroom wall.
What’s worse is that we were both on maternity leave at the same time — yet we still didn’t interact beyond the occasional hello.
I live in a fairly friendly community. We talk to people in the playground, I have a great mum’s group, and even the local butcher knows my name.
So it got me questioning — why don’t I know my neighbours?
Andrew Leigh is the Federal MP for Fraser and former professor of economics at ACU.
He’s also an expert in the way we interact as a society — he’s even written a book on the subject.
Mr Leigh says there’s a long-term trend in Australians becoming disconnected from their neighbours.
In the mid 1980s, the average Australian knew 7.1 people in their local area they could ask for small favours. In the mid 2000s, that number had dropped to 5.7 people.
He said there are a number of reasons we’re losing these important relationships.
“We’ve seen a rise in long and unsociable hours. The number of people working over 45 hours a week has risen. Plus more people are working weekends, and shift work is increasing.”
He says it’s not only our hours away from the home that make it hard to get to know our neighbours, but how we chose to spend our time when we’re there.
“We’re spending more time engaged with technology — TV, the internet, and computer games. They’re not crowding each other out, but (the time we’re spending doing those activities is) crowding out activities such as backyard soccer,” he says.
Not only is the way we interact with our immediate neighbours impacted by changes in society — but it affects the local neighbourhood.
“We used to get our money from a bank teller, or buy our groceries from a person at the local store. Now we just use a machine,” he says.
He argues this shift in our behaviour has affected our social skills — we need to talk to people every day to know how to build relationships.
Not only have a lot of our interactions moved online, but our physical way of living his changed.
There’s also been a sharp rise in commuting times — with most people commuting by car.
“That’s time spent in a metal box on your own. You don’t form a better view of your fellow humans (while commuting). You can get pretty frustrated about the world,” he says.
He even argues that commuting time is more of a problem than spending hours a week gaming.
“An hour spent in the car degrades your community life much more than an hour gaming,” he says.
While more people are living in apartments rather than quarter acre blocks — Mr Leigh says that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
“It’s a different interaction rather than a worse one,” he says.
He explains that people living in small apartments in large cities like New York can feel very connected to their community as they’re constantly walking around and using the spaces around them.
But there are simple steps we can take to improve our relationships with our neighbours.
“Hold a street party. Christmas is just around the corner. It’s not hard to organise, you can do it in less than an hour. Use the magic acronym BYO, and you won’t have to do much,” he says.
He says even if you live in an apartment on a busy street, you can invite your neighbours over for a Christmas gathering.
“You’re investing half an hour a year in relationships with people who could keep an eye on your place. You might even stop your place being robbed,” he says.
While getting to know our immediate neighbours is important, Mr Leigh also says there’s plenty we can do to improve our relationships with people in our local community.
“We should use local stores, reclaim the footpaths and, use technology to supplement face to face interactions — not replace them,” he says.
He says sites like meetup.com and foursquare are good for moving online relationships into the real world.
News.com.au journalist Deb Killalea says the benefits of knowing your neighbours goes far beyond having someone to water your plants when you go on holiday.
She believes she lives in one of the best streets in Australia.
“The day we moved in was almost like a welcoming committee — something I’ve never experienced in my years in Australia and overseas,’’ she says.
“I know my neighbours are great, not only because we regularly have get-togethers but they’re also forgiving when it comes to really annoying, menacing pets, well okay especially mine.
“Despite my cat menacing theirs (who is now to scared to go outside) they still talk to me. That’s the definition of nice.
“My neighbours also babysit my toddler and are ready to help out when we get stuck with pretty much anything from taking the bins out to feeding each other’s pets.
“In fact they’re so nice that a walk out to the mailbox often turns into a half-hour jaunt.”
“I know I’m lucky and this is better than any Ramsay street.”

We need to celebrate the important moments, not every part of our lives, writes Angela Mollard

 “Are you free on June 21 for Belinda’s hen night? A few drinks, dinner, perhaps a dance.”
“Excellent,” I type back. “I’ll be there. Can’t wait.”
Then another email a week later.
“OK, we’ve decided to go pole dancing. Then for a dinner cruise on the harbour. It’s a secret so don’t tell Belinda but we know she’s going to love it.”
Oh great. Who cares if Belinda’s going to love it? I’m not going to love it. My wallet’s not going to love it. My thighs aren’t going to love it (I’ve done pole dancing once before and it would’ve been fine but for the pole. And the Heidi does Playboy costume).
Grannies are at it too. Well, possibly not pole dancing, but the whole “come-over-for-a-cuppa-but-actually-it’s-a-party-because-I’m-going-to-be-a-grandmother-so-please-bring-a-gift” thing.
Never heard of grandmother showers? Well, they’re a thing. Clearly bored with the usual round of weddings, christenings and silver anniversaries, grannies-to-be have become the latest shameless gift grabbers on the grounds that “it’s a new phase in a woman’s life”.
There you go — I thought being a grandparent was about adding value to a little person’s life, not crowing about your own role in it. Silly me.
What next? Menopause Mardi Gras? Potty parties? Shaving soirees? Vasectomy valedictions? Is there any event in our lives that we don’t now celebrate? A week that doesn’t demand we crack open the champagne and buy yet another gift? Surely it’s only a matter of time before we anoint the prosaic days of the week with greater meaning — Mash Up Monday, Two Rounds Tuesday ...
I don’t mean to be a fun hydrant. I’ve been known to stick a candle in a lasagne when there’s no cake to hand, and there’s a whole playlist of party tunes on my iPhone for impromptu merrymaking. But when did the timeless, humble celebration of the “we” turn into the brazen, grasping festival of “me”?
I blame the Kardashians. There we all were respectfully turning out at dawn for Anzac Day and happily inviting the neighbourhood over for a few snags on Australia Day. Birthdays were marked with a simple cake, weddings by a heartfelt speech, births by … well, the miracle that is birth.
Then reality television’s first family came along with their push presents and “weddings are a fun day out” philosophy (I’m winging it here) and suddenly the rest of us think we have to shimmer up what were once perfectly lovely little lives.
And so we have weddings that go on for days and are held in Tahiti because the bride and groom thought they might like a “French theme”, even though neither can translate “nous sommes ridicules”.
We have gender reveal parties where the wonderment of birth is reduced to a towering edifice of over-iced sponge laced with the requisite cochineal. Cut into a slice and you can tell your family and friends what flavour, sorry, gender your baby is going to be. And just in — “sten” parties, joint stag and hen parties which sound suspiciously like a double fleecing of your nearest and dearest.
Call me mean-spirited, but I’m over the crass commercialisation and the hyper-celebration of what is, effectively, life. By all means, break out the fairy lights and whoop and kiss and smile and dance, but does it all have to be marked by Tiffany jewellery and $80-a-head catering?
The best 40th I’ve been to was a “no gifts” BYO chair, bottle and salad, held on a huge rock overlooking the harbour. We barbecued, sang and, in turn, recounted our favourite story involving the birthday boy.
Celebrations, at heart, are the manifestation of optimism and gratitude. Traditionally they’re anchored to the religious calendar or world events that demand we sit up, take notice and remember. A good measure? If there’s a poem written about it then it’s probably worthy of our attention.
Last Christmas, after a feast of salmon and schnapps with some Swedish mates, followed by the kids strumming out a few Bruno Mars covers, I read T.S. Eliot’s Journey of the Magi. Of course they groaned. Of course they won’t remember it. But for a few moments it wasn’t about new surfboards or a PlayStation or whether they could nick another bottle of Coke, but three guys, a camel and a baby.
Last week marked the 70th anniversary of D-Day. Next year is the centenary of the ANZAC landings at Gallipoli. Both are meaningful celebrations of valour and sacrifice, of the collective, not the individual.
As we blunder down the path of gift registries for one-year-olds and pamper parties for eight-year-olds, we’d do well to remember what is genuinely worth celebrating: those who, according to John McCrae’s In Flanders Fields, simply “loved and were loved.”