Kedron Park Teacher's College; 50 years on... what happened after 1962? : a collection of short biographies from some of the 1962 graduates

The mirror suggests and the calendar confirms that it really is 50 years since we entered Kedron Park Teachers' College. We began in 1961 at a not- quite- finished state school styled building that had been designed and named without any imagination. (I wanted to use that delightful cliche 'hallowed halls' but we know they were sterile classrooms and verandas - no 'halls' and certainly not 'hallowed'.) We left, in 1962, as not-quite-finished teachers appointed to schools all over the state, away from our colleagues and the confidence and support that the college environment had provided. These stories prove that we not only survived - we thrived. We were an historically extraordinary group - war time babies, not baby boomers, but not personally affected by the anguish and restrictions of war time. We were wedged between one year trained teachers and university educated graduates, the men too old to be conscripted to Vietnam and the women too young to marry and remain permanently employed. Some of us became entangled in the transfer of Grade 8 to High School and others were similarly embroiled in the transformation of Teachers' Colleges to Colleges of Advanced Education and thence to universities. We were economic conjurers. Many of us were from the bush, living independently in the city for the first time. The allowance that was our scholarship forced us to acquire expertise in handling money that our children can never appreciate. (I have met old men who are still almost brought to tears at the very mention of Cerevite or Risa-riso - eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner in college share houses and flats). We wore the same clothes week in and week out, we chose trams without conductors, railway stations where rail passes were not checked and we walked many miles to save money. We made our fun in the simplest and cheapest ways: college dances and parties in flats. However, our scholarship was also our bondage; step too far out of line and it was taken away and with it the opportunity to serve as teachers. We were socially unsophisticated -'ingenues' and 'boys' in separate lecture groups, some of us lonely, many homesick and all struggling to find new friends and an adult identity. Our classes were not particularly stimulating and there was no real opportunity to pool any intelligent ideas that any of us had. We had no common room and no place to mix socially at the College. We dressed as we were told -ties and stockings! However, we became creative in adapting to our circumstances and, in lots of ways, we were lucky to mature in a world free from wars, recessions, unemployment and the temptations and challenges of today's generation. (Thank heaven for folk dancing classes and Miss Hooper's drama club). We were 'trained' not educated, a fact that was made clear when 'upgrading' was forced on many of us after years of teaching. We attended an education establishment that existed for only 32 years. (KPTC, as such, lasted only 12 years before developing/amalgamating into North Brisbane CAE, Brisbane CAE and finally QUT. We thank QUT Alumni for their assistance in this publication.) Today, we are retirees, mostly. Some of our group have died; we have lost contact with others. If you know the whereabouts of anyone who is not represented in this collection of stories, please encourage him or her to get in contact so that our next publication (whenever it might be) might be more complete. Research suggests that our teenage years are the years in which we most need social intercourse with our peers. It also shows that many of the friends that we make during our teenage years remain close for the rest of our lives. We, as a group, substantiate this research. Here are the stories of some of those friends

Reunion organising committee, 2011