University
Chapter 87

Copyright© 2011 by Peter H. Salus

After the Reception, I spent most of my time at home. I re-read my various textbooks, looked at my notes, and scrutinized the sample questions that had been distributed. In between, I "relaxed" by shopping and cooking. Rachel spent a good deal of time looking at the hundred or so Heysens that weren't on exhibit.

On June 3, Ardler phoned me again.

"Have you seen the news?"

"No, Ive been studying."

"The Canadian Reconciliation Commission has said that the former policy of forcibly removing aboriginal children from their families for schooling 'can best be described as 'cultural genocide.'"

"Wow!"

"It says: 'The Canadian government pursued this policy of cultural genocide because it wished to divest itself of its legal and financial obligations to aboriginal people and gain control over their lands and resources. If every aboriginal person had been 'absorbed into the body politic, ' there would be no reserves, no treaties and no aboriginal rights.'"

"That could be explosive."

"In the courts – I'm certain the PM will avoid comment or action."

"But it will make some things easier – in an interesting fashion. I was just reading something relevant. There will have to be a suit in which – uh – 'judicial attention' is brought to the document, as Canada isn't within the purview of an Australian court. But don't forget the previous Canadian report, around 20 years ago, resulted in nothing; and Mr. Harper's 'apology' in '08 was just words."

"You're beginning to sound like a lawyer!"

"Yes. And if I'm to become one, I need to keep hitting my books."

"Of course. I'll try to refrain from annoying you before July."

"Thank you."

I mentioned the call to Rachel, but she just remarked that Ardler was merely maintaining contact. Over dinner, she noted that her term break began the weekend after my exams. "Let's go somewhere and have a holiday," she said.

"What would you like?"

"Well. Not Melbourne or Canberra. Not Perth. If we go to a city, Adelaide or Hobart. Otherwise, The Grampians and Hall's Gap."

"That might be nice. There are rock drawings in the area. It would take a good two days to drive there, I think. Or we could fly to Melbourne and rent something for a week. Hall's Gap must be about three hours or so from Melbourne. I like that."

"Fine. But no law books!"

"And no art history!" We both laughed.

"But you'll let me visit Brambuk?"

"What is it?"

"The oldest Aboriginal cultural center in Australia."

"Of course. Will you have time to do research tomorrow?"

"I think so. When do your classes resume?"

"28 July."

"Fine. I'll try accommodations first, then travel."

In the morning I read the entire pamphlet on "Judicial Ethics," I'd picked up when we were in Canberra. It was full of platitudes and I tried to remember them for the exam. By 1100 I was sick, so I looked at Google. Boroka Downs near Halls Gap looked good, so I phoned. They could accommodate us from the twelfth of July for six nights, so I booked it and gave my card number. The man at the other end said that email confirmation would go out within the hour. Then I looked up Tigerair and booked flights to Melbourne for noon on the twelfth. Finally, I looked at car rentals.

Wow! The reviews for Europcar and Thrifty were negative. Avis got both extremely negative and 'OK' reviews. Budget looked the safest. By the time I booked the car, the confirmations for the hotel and the flight were in my mailbox. So I went off to get some lunch and purchase dinner.

"Are you really OK?," Rachel asked the next Monday.

"What do you mean?"

"These three exams are important. Folks try and fail them each time they're given. I want to be as supportive as I can be. But I don't know what to do."

"Be yourself. I've loved you as long as I've been conscious. We've been together for over 20 years."

"And you've been my hero since pre-school. You've always protected me. But now I want to do things for you."

"You do. We actually live a stress-free existence. No broken dishes or thrown cutlery. No crying or screaming. Maybe there's something wrong. But in just over two weeks you'll be halfway through honours and I'll have passed the exams. And then we'll go off on holiday before getting to the last months of grind."

"Shouldn't we try for more stress?"

"No, thanks."

On the Saturday before my exams, we were at my parents' for dinner. Afterwards I asked my dad for a few minutes of serious family discussion.

"This week I'm taking the three big exams. After that, I'll be taking the Bar Practice Course from Monday 24 August through Saturday 19 September, including the two Saturdays, the 12th and the 19th." I paused. "Of course, that's only if I pass all three tests. If I get under 75% in one of them, I'll be doing one or more over again."

"Any chance of that?," dad asked.

"Always a chance, but I think I'll be OK. The point of this is what happens after the Bar Practice."

"What are the choices?" mum asked.

"Well, most people either go begging to a well-known judge or law firm and spend a year or so as indentured servants."

"Seriously?"

"Well, some get paid rather well. The top last autumn was about $80K. But the average was under $40, I think. Anyway, the alternative is to become a clerk with a small firm, perhaps a single practitioner, to gain experience."

"And your question is?" dad prodded.

"I've spoken twice since October to Mr. Ardler at the Ministry. He has an idea. But this has to remain quite confidential among the four of us." Mum, dad and Rachel nodded. I took a deep breath.

 
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