Telling stories


Over the past couple of days I have been reliving some of my childhood moments – sort of.

When I was in grade 5 at what was then the Kiewa Valley Consolidated Primary School, my mother took a few days off work to come with us as one of the parent helpers on the camp to the national capital, Canberra. On Friday I was the teacher who was working with some students – from a Canberra based school – while we visited what they know is Old Parliament House, or the Museum of Australian Democracy.

Our tasks for the day included visiting many of the national landmarks – all located in the parliamentary zone – and completing challenges while we did to. As for me, I instagrammed the day, much to the amusement of my students. But in my mind, I was telling a story. I would like to show them what I saw on the day, particularly of them working together and making friends.

We were on the steps of parliament where so much history has happened, from happy times to the dismissal of a government. So I was telling them stories of things which happened in these places, and took photos of them while they learned things. They have asked to return again, there is a science museum which they want to visit for our end of year trip.

They want to make stories of their own.


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