Curious Threads
The Naked Truth Kate McCaffrey
At twenty she viewed the world optimistically, unaware of her position in the country she believed was egalitarian. A far cry from her birthplace, fifteen thousand kilometres away, which she viewed with disdain; restricted, working class and poor. No opportunities, destined to work in the local fish and chip shop or stacking shelves at Tesco, married at eighteen, four children under four by twenty. But here, education was the key to success and opportunity. University. The hallowed halls of great thinkers. Know Thyself, the inscription read and daily as she passed it, she believed she did. ‘I see, what have we here today?’ the university professor asks, peering down his nose, through his bifocals, in the crammed office, teetering bookshelves and withering plants, claustrophobic and stifling in the presence of twelve others, she squirms on the hard wooden seat. ‘It looks like we have ourselves a Teen Queen.’ The chorus of embarrassed laughs, she sniffs, views her appearance through his eyes. Over-dressed, shoes polished, hair tied back, trying to disguise her insecurities- her fear of not belonging- of being exposed as fraudulent, among the western suburbs’ kids, with their deliberately torn jeans, rumpled clothing and tangled hair. The Teen Queen. The new target. ‘I hate the way he speaks to you,’ the mature age student says. She waves the comment away. ‘It’s fine,’ she says.
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