My association with UQ began long before I was enrolled as a student there. In the latter years of WWII, my family moved from Red Hill to St Lucia, which was largely undeveloped at that time, and the University was still being built. The only permanent building on site was the Forgan Smith Building.[…]
I commenced at UQ in 1974, having taken a gap year to travel through India and the UK. There was never any question I would go to UQ. My father taught there in the Education Faculty, five of my older siblings had preceded me and one more was to come. University was not so much[…]
The books were bricks against my back as I walked down Annerley Road towards the ferry. It was early morning, winter, the kind of crisp Brisbane winter that made me curse the old Queenslander I lived in and praise the walk for warming me up. That semester, I had finally quit psychology to focus on[…]
‘You’re too smart to be a barista,’ my boyfriend says, not meaning any real slight to the noble profession; he thinks I’m floundering up here in Queensland, after following him up here for lack of anything much better to do in Adelaide, and I am really. I did kind of enjoy pouring patterns into espresso for[…]