Healed by your empathy

I stepped onto the plane hoping for nothing more than this ride to be over. I felt the familiar sense of unease as I located my seat, but found it was intensified by knowing I would not have a familiar face sitting next to me as I contemplated all the possible scenarios that could lead to my death. I saw the engine burst into flames, the wings snap off as unexpected turbulence took hold, and my body flung from my seat through the gaping hole in the side of my flying tomb. I have never flown solo before, and clearly I am not the calmest flyer at the best of times. I decided to go over my speech and try to take my mind off the situation I had put myself in.

As the longest one and a half hours of my life eventually passed, I began to realise the realness of my situation. I was entering a city I had never been before to speak to a room full of people I had mostly never met about my experiences as a recipient of a Pinnacle scholarship. I was excited, anxious, nervous, but above all, utterly thrilled. I was in Brisbane, a place I had never been and whose appeal had called to me for as long as I can remember. I was greeted with warmth as I entered its streets in search of my destination and once arrived, the warmth continued as I was met by the familiar faces of Pinnacle. Any sense of apprehension faded immediately and I began pumping myself up for the event that was about to unfold.

As I entered the room full of unfamiliar faces I took my place ready to deliver my speech. I stood next to my fellow scholar Harriet (who’s calm and collected exterior was both refreshing and intimidating) and waited for my name to be called. As Harriet finished her brilliantly moving presentation I was called to the floor and without hesitation began a verbal assault on my graciously receptive audience. My notes became irrelevant as I recounted the history of my affiliation with Pinnacle and the impact their generosity has had on my university experience. I explained the unparalleled impact my mentor has had on my introduction to University and by the end I felt as though I had had a therapeutic experience as I relived the state of bliss which had accompanied my first semester of learning. 

The reception was incredible. I was met with words of encouragement from complete strangers whose enquiring nature made me feel supported and respected. I left the event feeling even more confident in my abilities as a student and, as I explored the streets of Brisbane, knew that without the generosity of The Pinnacle Foundation I would not be the worry-free student I am right now. Pinnacles’ empathy has healed me of my self-deprecating nature and I am truly grateful.

By Steve Walker

Day One

As I begin to look forward to starting the second semester of my first year at Uni I am filled with feelings of excitement and anticipation. It makes me look back to the beginning of the year when I had my first ever class after not studying for something like 6 years. I was an emotional wreck. If only I knew then, what I know now…

University Day 1, February 2012:
I walk into possibly the most frightening area I have ever stepped foot, an area so richly drenched in the scent of academia that I can hardly breathe. I couldn’t feel more out of place. I move awkwardly amongst the crowd trying not to be noticed, desperately avoiding anyone who looks as though they might disrupt my strategically planned route to my first ever University tutorial. This environment is so foreign yet at the same time appears strangely familiar. It has aspects which remind me of high school and for a second I feel as though I have reverted to my high school self. I clutch my shoulder bag as if it were my life force, or my safety blanket. My only objective is survival, if I last the distance from the entrance gate to my classroom I will consider it my first achievement. The first of many I hope. 

As I dash in and out of the crowd with a panicked expression I suddenly realise how ridiculous I must look and try to steady myself. It doesn’t work and I somehow manage to make things worse by cutting off other students whose irritation is vividly stretched across their faces. I spot the nearest open space and move towards it, as I try to regain my composure I notice a sign outside a building that reads, “Electrical Engineering.” HOORAY! This is exactly the building which houses the classroom for my first tutorial. I can’t believe my luck! By my (obviously ill-informed) calculations I shouldn’t be anywhere near here. Most would call it coincidence, but I’m going with intuition! Maybe I’m not such a fish out of water after all. As I scour the halls searching for my assigned room I begin to feel my anxieties rise once again, “What if nobody likes me? What if it’s all too much for me?” I find my room and enter it with apprehension only to be met with smiling faces and a polite “Welcome” from my tutor. I realise immediately how silly I’ve been and find a chair to call my own. As my neighbour engages me in conversation I start to feel a new sense of pride rise from within me. It comes from the depths of my soul and engulfs me with such force I can hardly contain it. I’ve made it to the beginning of my future and I can’t wait to get started.

By Steven Walker

The Distraction Monster

I made a promise with myself at the beginning of my university study. Not to procrastinate. At the time I thought it was a reasonable decision to make, I thought I had grown out of the habit which I had so brilliantly perfected during my high school years. No one elected to tell me that university, aside from introducing a whole host of nasty essays into my life, unleashes a demon of unimaginable evil whose very existence is for the sole purpose of providing distractions, and illuminating otherwise uninteresting things. I’ve called this demon the Distraction Monster. Why had nobody given me the heads up about this guy? I have close friends who have completed university, yet none of them warned me! I think it is a massive oversight on their part, and makes me reconsider the closeness of our friendship. I mean imagine my surprise when I am seconds away from understanding the ins and outs of Marxism, and completely out of the blue I have an overwhelming urge to clean the barbeque… A barbeque I’ve not used in 6 months, let alone thought about cleaning. It doesn’t make any sense and can only be explained as the work of the Distraction Monster. It seems to me that people are either frightened of this monster, or enjoy his company. How else can you explain such widespread silence about his existence? Now I am certainly not frightened of this particular monster, but I may be able to explain why he is possibly welcomed on occasion.

My most recent encounter with the Distraction Monster was over the last weekend. I had two essays due and very little time to do them. I was a little anxious and ready to get them out of the way so I could relax and enter end-of-semester holidays as quickly as possible. I had sourced all of my readings and was just about to enter the study zone… and something happened. I can’t recall whether it was the colours, or the familiar voices, but I knew something about my environment had changed. I felt an incredible sense of excitement, a feeling of unparalleled bliss which could only come from one source… EUROVISION! I had completely forgotten it was happening, but knew there was no turning back now. The Distraction Monster had won, he knew my weakness and was only happy to remind me of it. Whatever chance I had of getting any work done was now completely out the window, but if I’m truly honest, I think I may forgive the monster on this occasion. It is Eurovision after all. 

By Steve Walker

Pen and Paper Preferred

I guess I’m a little old school in regards to writing. I hate to draft anything using a computer. I think a pen and paper let me keep a certain degree of personality in my writing by allowing me to structure it exactly as I please, without margins, double-spacing, and colourful lines under certain words just to prove my incompetence when it comes to spelling. I also can’t go past the satisfaction of obliterating, through paper-shredding scribble, that sentence which I decided wasn’t going to gel with the rest of my essay.

I certainly have a passion for writing, not to be confused with writing flair. I make no claims to be a brilliant writer, I’m mediocre at best, but I have found immense value in the sense of escapism that comes with constructing a piece of text on a subject I’m passionate about. I have certainly found this feeling of passion with the recent completion of my first essay in almost six years! It was on the subject of aged care for gay man and lesbians. A subject I am particularly interested in, having worked and volunteered in ageing and disability support services. I found particular satisfaction in criticising an area that I work in which is only now beginning to recognise the specific needs of a minority so often overlooked. I was so incredibly unaware that the services I may need to utilise one day are almost non-existent. Now I am not trying to illuminate this issue just because I’ve been given the platform to do so, I am simply trying to illustrate the ease with which I have been able to fully immerse myself in this particular writing assignment thanks almost solely to the assistance provided by the Pinnacle Foundation. I am not under any stresses to find funding or support for my university life. My writing process was completely absent of any distractions and I was able to put all of myself into the task at hand.

Although I have had a constant stream of assignments since beginning my studies, I am relatively relaxed in my approach to them and I have Pinnacle to thank. 

By Steven Walker