Chapter 60

Despite the heat, Wednesday morning I put on a light suit and a tie. A dean with an Order of Australia and two doctorates wasn't to be treated trivially. And I didn't want to appear to be a whiner.

I didn't have to wait for very long. I was shown in to see Dean Riley immediately. As I sat down I could see a file folder on her desk with "Hollister, P." on its tab.

"Good morning, Mr. Hollister."

"Good morning, ma'am. Thank you for seeing me." She gestured towards a chair.

"You're most welcome. I've looked in your file and am curious as to why you're here. Most students I see want to retake an examination or explain how a grandparent is mortally ill. That doesn't seem to be applicable here."

"No, ma'am. I'm here to obtain curricular guidance."

"Interesting. What's the problem?"

"Well, I've taken all the required courses and I'm not interested in any of the electives."

"None?"

"None this term. And only one next."

She opened my folder and turned a few pages. "You're not a very traditional student."

"No ma'am."

"How did you get here?"

"I persuaded Acting Dean Tolhurst to admit me."

"Go on."

"I feel very strongly about our debt to the Australians. I told Mr. Tolhurst that I want to be an advocate for the Australians from whom we stole the country, its resources, their way of life. We declared the land uninhabited and arrogated it. I want to help pursue the Noongar claim. And lawyers are the current warriors. Their weapons aren't spears or waddies, but briefs and writs. They wear suits and Rolex watches, not paint and tassels."

"Oh, my! You'll be just fine at the bar." She turned a page and then another. "You did a full load of courses in the inter-session, too."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And only one course without 'distinction'." She looked at me. "You could be permitted to enroll for up to nine hours of special or directed study each term."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is there anyone who might tolerate someone as obstreperous and unruly as you?" She was trying not to smile.

"I think so, ma'am. The Premier, Mr. O'Farrell, introduced me to Craig Ardler, CEO of the South Coast Medical Service Aboriginal Corporation."

"You travel in exalted circles, Mr. Hollister. I see that you are married."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Is your spouse a student here?"

"In fine art, ma'am. She's also an intern at the Art Gallery."

"Would you be willing to divulge how you met Barry O'Farrell?"

"Well, it was personal, ma'am." [I really didn't want to get into trouble.]

"I hadn't thought it was political, Mr. Hollister. Though Mr. O'Farrell's aboriginal interests are well-known."

"Well. My dad is the Director of the Australian Museum. I was introduced to Mr. O'Farrell by my mother."

"Terse. If you're going to be a barrister, you'll have to be more generous with your descriptions."

"There was a large festivity when my parents moved to Sydney from Perth. It was at that festivity that I was introduced to the Premier and to Mr. Ardler. Mr. Ardler told me to get in touch with him when my studies had progressed further."

"Better. Far better. And you want to pursue Aboriginal rights and restitution?"

"Exactly."

"Do you know Sean Brennan?"

"No, ma'am."

"Sean Brennan is a Senior Lecturer in the UNSW Faculty of Law and Director of the Indigenous Legal Issues Project at the Gilbert + Tobin Centre of Public Law at UNSW. He has worked with a range of Aboriginal organisations including Cape York Land Council and Central Land Council. I'd like you to meet with him and then return here. Are you willing to do that?"

"Of course." She pushed a button. The receptionist opened the door."

"Could you phone Sean Brennan at UNSW and book and appointment for Mr. Hollister? Sooner rather than later."

"I'll call right away."

"I'm intrigued, Mr. Hollister. I rarely encounter young students with such a definite view of what they want to do. I'm looking forward to our next meeting."

"Me, too. Thank you very much, Madam Dean." She smiled.

I exited and stood by the desk outside.

"Next Monday O.K.?" I nodded. She confirmed and put down the phone. "Do you know where the Centre is?"

"No. But it can't be hard to find."

"It's on Level 3 of the Law Building – that's Building F8 – at UNSW," she read from a piece of paper. "You enter via Gate 2 from High Street in Kensington. Ten in the Morning next Monday." She scribbled on a pad and gave me the slip of paper.

"The Dean said I should return here after I see Professor Brennan. Can I book now?"

"Let's see. Monday's the 13^th. Let's give him a few days to call. How about Thursday, the 16^th? Ten?"

"That's just fine. Thank you very much."

I called Rachel to let her know what had transpired and went to the Museum, quite pleased.

I taped a note on the door, informing Henry and Bert that I was having coffee and would return before 1300, and went to the cafe, stopping to see whether they had a copy of the Australian Indigenous Law Review – fat chance! They did have Paterson's The Lost Legions: Culture Contact in Colonial Australia, so I bought it. Quite dear for a relatively small book.