The Invisible Hero

Elizabeth Fensham lives in Victoria's Dandenong Ranges. She is married and has two adult sons. Fensham has been writing in earnest for the last twenty years. Her first novel
The Helicopter Man
won the CBCA Book of the Year for Younger Readers in 2006. Previous young adult novels include
Miss McAllister's Ghost
and
Goodbye Jamie Boyd.
Elizabeth's first younger reader
Matty Forever
was shortlisted for the CBCA Book of the Year for Younger Readers in 2009. The companion
Bill Rules
was published in 2010.

Term 3

Hero or villain? Oh, joy. Oh, find me a bucket to chuck in.

At the top of the worksheet it says,
One man's hero is another man's villain.
Does your subject fit this proverb? This is our major, footnoted, persuasive essay topic. A minimum of four different sources including at least one primary source and a visual source, and we're not just to use the internet. We have to choose a hero or villain from a list we've been given, but we can research our own if we have what our teachers call ‘initiative'.

The English teacher, Mrs Canmore, has conned our History teacher, Mr Quayle, into teaming up for a term. We've been told this English–History thing is supposed to help us learn more ‘deeply and widely'. We also have to do journal writing and give a speech – that's the English bit. Apparently, all this villain–hero stuff is a sort of intro for a major History study we're going to do on wars and revolutions next term.

Lots of the class were whinging about this idiot assignment. My mate, Sam de Grekh, shouted out to Quayle and Canmore, ‘Jesus! Do you think we're a pack of Year 7s?'

‘Indeed, Jesus would be a most suitable subject for you, Samuel,' said Canmore. ‘And I can assure you, this assignment is preparing you for the challenges of Year 11.'

‘Less than two years away, De Grekh!' said Quayle wagging one of his sausage fingers.

I've chosen this guy called Machiavelli – at least, I think it's a guy. Quayle asked me why I'd made that choice. I said, ‘The name is intriguing.' Quayle looked impressed with me using
that word ‘intriguing'. Score ten points. The truth is, Machiavelli sounds a bit like my name. I'm Macca to everyone at school. Jake MacKinnon on the school roll.

It's going to be a bludge. Just research our character. I can whip up an essay. Easy as. I've got away lots of times with a bit of imaginative bibliography making. Then there's the talk. And writing this journal. A cinch. Especially as Quayle and Canmore will only check to see that we are writing something. They said they won't actually read it because they want us to ‘explore and reflect deeply'. As long as I fill up the pages, I'm fine. We only let them read this if we want to. Quayle and Canmore have given us this list of stimulus quotations:

And we have reflection questions. We have to start our journals with responses to: ‘Define hero' and ‘Define villain'. Derr. And we're supposed to be writing about that now. A page.

Okay. A hero. Someone who is spectacularly successful and gets star status. Like the swimmer Ian Thorpe, the Queen of England, Ned Kelly, and I suppose I'll have to add someone like Mother Theresa. The world says she's a hero because she spent her whole life nursing Untouchables in India. But how worth it was all that work now she's dead and the world's still spilling over with these hopeless cases?

Damn. This isn't a page yet. Okay,
me.
I'm a bit of a hero round here. I was the first bloke in the class to have a steady girlfriend – Genelle. I'm well built – tallest in the class. I'm what the Principal calls a ‘good all rounder'. I play footy in winter and I'm the champion swimmer for my age (Under 16). So far I've got straight A's for my schoolwork, right up to now – Term 3, Year 9. I've joined the Debating club because I want to polish my persuasive speaking skills. I reckon they will come in handy when I study law and then go into politics. Don't care which side I'm on. Point is, politics will give me power, money and women. I also play the guitar and am in the school band. My dad is on the school board. And my mates say my mumma's good looking.

Yeah, just like that Afro-American song, ‘Summertime, and the living is easy...' Yep. Living is easy for me. I've a cool group of friends who hang out with me. Destined to be a hero! Page is up and Quayle is inspecting. Score another ten.

A hero is sumone who holds on wen its tuff and deos it for uthers not themselfs even if nobdy says thanks and stil they do the rite thing. That's wat Mother Tresa did even tho ther were millns of por peple in India she cdnt help, but she helpt the ones she coud. And it makes sens cos ech tim you help sumone, they mite help someone els.

I loked up Mother Tresa on the libry internet. I rely likd it wen she ses We can do no grate things only small things with grate love. It was lik a peny dropt for me or a lite bolb went on as you see in cartoons.

Mista kwale sed I shd chuse sumone callt Gandhi who I dont now. Mr Kwale says hes a hero from India who was into pasiv resistnce and beet the Britsh and then mista kwale got evryone larfing wen he sed Your into pasiv resitnce Dugan arnt you but I do now that the man with the donky at Galipli was a hero and Flaunce Nitingale and maybe Instine. No hes not a hero just smart you dont hav to be smart to be a hero well not scool sort of smart but you do hav to hav good ideas.

Mista kwale ses I hev to stay in at lunctime to write a hol page.

My detenshon page:

Ive ben thinking mor abowt mother Tresa and wot she ses abowt smal things with grate love. And I wish I culd tork to her becos I wont to tel her how I hav bilt on her werds lik a child laying bloks on top of anutha childs bloks. And wot I wont to tel her is that the smal things ad up.

So meny of us fel overwelmd by the sufring in the wold. Its lik its a sunami of pane that is to big for us and we do nothing insted. But if we do litl acts of kindness it stil cownts. I merember wen Nan asked me to mak a vegy garden for her and I lokd down the bak yard and saw these tal weds and gum saplins and gient skratchee clumps of blakbery. My hart sank to my boots. I was only in yer 7 and as skrawnee as one of Nans weeds. I merember tying to smil at Nan and saying Sure Nan. I thort it thru and decided to do it one step at a time. I took old Pops alarm clok down the bak and gav myself an hour to work and I went at it hard and the sam nex day and the nex and the nex. Evry tim I lokd at that land cleering it gav me hart to do it agen nex day. And afta 2 weks I had clered enuf land for a vegy pach and ech wek Id do a bit mor. That's wen I lokd at my arms and saw I had develpd biceps. So I dercidid I cood start the wod chopping then to.

Now this is a sort of metafor lik Ms Canmor tort us. The litl acts of kindness add up and mak you stronger so you can kep on doing it or efan beta. Efrywer in the wrold weve all herd about Mother Tresa and she wasnt pertending that she wood saf the
wrold singl handed jus that a small bit is enuf for us to slep with an esy conshens and it encrges us to help peple so its worth it.

I am njoyng writng this. My idess ar flowing. Enyways at lunchtim I am usuly eting by myself and this time I am down in the ofic and I rekon I am one of the wormest kids in the skol becos we are having a mity cold winta and we arnt alowd in the clasroms at lunch.

And anutha god thing abowt been in the ofic. There is this calnda on the desk with dats and a wis sayng for ech munth. And this months sayng is Einstein and her it is,

‘Not everything counts that can be counted; not everything that can be counted, counts.'

Its mad me chang my min abwot Einstein. He mus hav been a wis thinkr. Maybee he meens don get to carreed away abowt been smart, rich, famos, god with maths and stuff and wat sum pepl larf at as jus small things are importent to, sort of lik waht Mother Tresa ses. So that's tow famus pepl wot say the sam thing. Its lik thers this big trooth owt ther in the unvers that pepl can tap into.

Was supposed to research Machiavelli on the internet at home last night. But me and my mate, Sam de Grekh, got a little distracted with this amazing war game we're playing on the internet. Ended up getting to bed about 3am. Am doing this page over breakfast with Mum fussing about why I spent so long in my room last night and still didn't get this finished. ‘You have to prioritise your work,' I've just told her. ‘I had more important stuff last night.' That word ‘prioritise' shut her up. It impresses even me.

When we were at the dinner table, asked Dad if he knew about Machiavelli. ‘Certainly do,' said Dad. ‘An Italian philosopher from a couple of centuries back. He'd be a pioneer psychologist. Studied human behaviour and particularly what a ruler needs to know to control people.'

‘In a good way?' I asked.

‘Put it this way,' said Dad. ‘Most politicians and business leaders today would use Machiavellian methods.'

‘Do you use them in your law practice?' I asked.

‘Wouldn't keep on top if I didn't.'

‘Life's not just about being on top, Craig,' said Mum.

Dad gave her one of his looks. ‘The lifestyle I provide for you comes from me knowing how to manage people under me at work.'

Mum started to pack up the dishes.

‘So what did Machiavelli say?' I asked Dad.

‘If you've got enough nous to succeed in life, you'll show a bit of initiative and find out for yourself.'

Actually, I am interested. I'm not out to get all the power, but I kind of naturally lead the kids in my form. That's with the exception of the drop-kicks. They aren't worth the effort. I wonder what Machiavelli would say about losers. Do we really have to put up with them? They drag everything down. Phil the Dill with his blue tinted glasses is a prime example. There we were the other day putting on a drama skit for school assembly – a fundraiser for World Vision – and all that Phil has to do is step onto the stage half way and say one line. But does he do that? No. He's standing out the back trying to make sense of his script and getting side-tracked by helping Ruth Stern into her bear outfit. So far too late, onto the stage stumbles the fat bear with skinny, dumb Dill spouting his one line in the wrong place, and all the Year 10s start laughing.