Pushing the barriers, planting seeds (John Lennon)

The power and the glory (You may say I'm a dreamer - Chapter 4, part 2)

Hair update - the fringe years were over, although
the George Harrison 1968 fetish was alive and well.

Master of Arts (1980-81)
First I had to do battle to stay the course. The teaching studentship people argued against me enrolling in the master's programme - they wanted me at Teachers' College in 1980.

Politely, I declined to acquiese to their request. They blinked first.

At the start of 1982 I was capped MA (Hons) in front of my family, my friends, my peers. Finally, the dream had come true.

Film festival tickets 1981: good
times, good times!

The previous two, utterly self indulgent, academically stimulating years, had been amazing. 

Retrace the route with me as I take the bus along Dominion Road or drive to the gully car park in my mini, go to the movies, go to lectures and tutorials, browse the record and book shops, work for hours on my own in the library, meet friends at the coffee shop or in Albert Park, see plays with friends, and all the while totally engross myself in my studies: 2oth century drama, 15th century drama, Chaucer, 2oth century poetry, the novel, and language papers. 

Student life was very heaven.

The result - second class, first part honours was beyond what I had hoped for ten years before.

MA students perform - Wozza left, Margo second right.

Relationships were becoming more intense as well. Up to this point, girl friends had been just that - friends who were girls.

Coralie Bines was my first date back at MAGS. Mike Budd played middle man and introduced me to her. We went to the school ball and she was still on the scene when I had my 21st dinner party at the White Heron Lodge (Purdy's are pretty classy). Coralie was (and, I bet, still is) lovely but we were just friends.

Phylis Omand was a friend of Greg's and we went out a few times (me and Phyllis that is, not Greg; he was busy with Wendy I suspect). Again though, we were just friends. Soon enough she'd moved on to Anthony Harris.

Friends from my courses, who were girls, went with me to movies, the theatre and lunches but nothing serious was ever on the agenda.

When 1980 rolled around, I meet fellow MA student, Dallas Smith. She was a thing apart, a different prospect, and certainly didn't fit the model of my previous female friends. Intense, moody, artistic, she was a crazy mixed up kid if ever there was one. Fair warning - she told me she was trouble and she was right.

Dallas collage 1981

Of course, it didn't last. She deceived me and I was crushed. So it goes.

Christine and Chris kirkham 1981

Another relationship, began at the same time, has definitely endured. I would have loved an older sister in my house growing up. Christine was away in England getting on with married life to Chris Kirkham, and email was a way off yet. I loved her letters, cards and cassette tapes but she wasn't as easily accessible as she is now.

Margo Buchanan-Oliver was also a fellow master's student, but in a different league to the rest of us! A curious mix of English refinement, social rebel, academic genius, tough business woman, tender and loving feminist - Margo is one dynamic package. 

She'd been married and had gap years in business before deciding on further study, with first the masters degree, then her PhD. Quickly, she became a big sister.

Clay, Margo with Mr and Mrs Purdy

But wait, there's more: Clay Bodvin was and is Margo's partner: an American Vietnam vet, artist, painter, gentleman, visionary, big brother substitute.

What a perfect twofer package! As friends they became a huge part of my life. When I got married, Clay was my best man, Margo - director of ceremony.

In 1980, I was 24 and yes, gasp, still pretty naive. Still living at home, but growing, incrementally, more independent. Academically I was definitely hitting my peak. Through their adoption of me (and kindred spirit, Chris Loud), Margo and Clay helped introduce new worlds - arcane worlds of possibilities and intellectual argument. They can cut through bullshit in a nano second and I love them dearly. 

Chris Loud

It was the most stimulating time of my life. The windows were thrown open, the doors of perception were hinging off their hinges.

I was immersed in great literature: The Romance of the Rose; Chaucer; Robert Bly: Robert Creeley; Moby Dick; Huckleberry Finn; Wordsworth; Coleridge; Shelley; Allen Ginsberg; Ferlinghetti; the Wakefield pageants; medieval lyrics; Pynchon; Titus Groan; Easy Rider; Star Wars; Ionesco; Beckett...

Great people influenced my thinking: Wystan Curnow; Stephanie Hollis; Roger Horrocks. They turned me inside out. As I progressed through those five years I kept an eye out for their courses. I was there!

Wystan and Roger formed a dynamic duo on poetry, film, Americana and art. Thanks to them I was turned on to artists like John Coltrane, Patti Smith, Charlie Parker, Dylan. A previously untapped world of poetry and film as art and expression. It's a debt I can never repay.

Peter Dane made Wordsworth's words, images, and experiences from The Prelude come alive and breathe for me. I can still hear his voice when I read from it.

Stephanie opened my eyes to Chaucer. After one lecture one night, I walked through Albert Park in a heightened state of mindfulness - I saw leaves on trees, bark, the filtered light - everything, it seemed to me, for the very first time. I felt transformed!

By becoming so immersed in what they taught, these people provided models that I could learn from; they provided priceless experiences to sustain me for the rest of my life. Is there any greater gift?

Sadly, as 1983 dawned, the five self indulgent years devoted to study and a search for self had to eventually come to an end. It was time to move on. 

It was time to learn a trade.

Love and peace - Wozza 

We're playing those mind games together (John Lennon)

The power and the glory (You may say I'm a dreamer - Chapter 4, part 1)

Fringe days were numbered. T shirt by Wozza.

We're playing those mind games togetherPushing the barriers, planting seeds -                     John Lennon (Mind Games)

Every December, I enviously wave off the year's Year 13 students who are heading to university.  Little do they realise the super intense changes that are in store as their glory days beckon!

Leaving a dodgy school record behind was extremely liberating for me. I guess I should have been concerned about my ability to cope, instead, I felt eager, confident, and thirsty for university life.

Finally...finally I was going to get that long dreamed of Master of Arts degree. I became even more single minded in its pursuit. 

Ramelton Rd - Ross arriving, my mini already ensconsed.

Throughout these years (1977 to 1981) I continued to live at home - number 4 Ramelton Road, Mt Roskill South, with mum, dad, and Ross.

Woz and dad, Taupo holidays at Te Rangiita were full of fishing adventures

During these years we enjoyed our last holidays together as a family in Taupo, as I was on the cusp of a new life on my own.

But not yet!

Woz and mum, Taupo holidays were full of fun!

Stage One (1977)
In three years time, to achieve a master's degree in English the fine print said I needed two papers in another language. The long summer holiday of 1976 was spent poring over the University Calendar and figuring out what to do.

Help was required, so Greg (who was also going to Auckland University to do a science degree) and I went to see Warwick Gibbs in his Auckland central flat that he shared with his elderly mum for his advice. Even though I'd studied French since 1971, I knew I wouldn't cope with it at university. 

Explaining the situation to Warwick was easy. He understood my situation. His advice was to take two Spanish papers - one on literature, t'other on language. Being new to all Stage One students meant that I had more of a chance to pass. So that's what I did.

Again, to his eternal credit, even though he may have been thinking it, at no point did Warwick nay say my aim to get a master's degree.

As explained previously, I was turned down for a teaching studentship during seventh form, but I knew I was destined to be a teacher so I took two education papers anyway.

English and history, my best subjects at school, made up another four papers to make eight in total for that first year. 

At the end of 1977, another application for a teaching studentship was made and again it was denied, but I passed everything with good enough grades to pick up a B Bursary and ploughed ever onwards.

The self indulgent years - in double exposure. I love this shot taken at Ramelton Road.

Stage Two (1978)
Now I concentrated on history, Asian history and English. Early into this second year, the studentship people rang me - someone had dropped out and a place was now available - was I interested? You betcha baby!! After only two rejections (ha!) I was on my career path at last.

As expected, Ross breezed through
MAGS, and gained a BSc a year
after my graduation for BA.

In exchange for a bond agreement (teach as many years as the studentship lasted) came financial freedom. Great stuff - my record collection blossomed and I could afford my first car, an orange Mini. Result!

Even though Stage Two was an academically demanding year I again didn't fail anything and even picked up an A Bursary.

During these first few years, I was lucky to find an amazing group of friends. Many came via Greg (he's a popular lad), then some via Simmsy (also a popular lad), then some from other sources.

Among the supporting cast of The Wozza Show: Kevin Simms and his then girlfriend, Helen George, both were doing commerce; Phyllis Omand, finishing a BA; Lynley Wood, law (co-incidentally, sister of old school friend Brian Wood); and, of course, my school chum Greg. What a talented bunch!

We hung out, a lot! Our routines involved finding each other in the library (we had set possies), putting study on hold to grab a drink in the coffee bar on campus and meeting in the new recreation centre for lunch. Mum's afghan biscuits (a.k.a. camel dung cookies) were a regular treat with the troops!

Frequently in stitches, we bonded. Some of the bonds endured: Kevin, Greg and I laughed hysterically at the same things and loved music with a passion; Kevy was a Glenfield Rovers stalwart so we had football in common (Man U vs Arsenal); Phyllis and her new boyfriend, Anthony Harris; Lynley and I were platonic friends from day one; Brett Reid, a football mate of Kevy's, and I went to the three day Nambassa music festival in Waihi.

There were other friends as well: Jo Priddy - we all went to her 21st; Kevin Carter and Phil Coombs I knew from football; Kevin Prewitt; Wendy Knowles (Greg's wife, she typed up all my essays - in days before PCs so there were loads of drafts. Literally, she saved my bacon*! Big shout out to you Wendy - I still have them and they still look amazing - many thanks!!).

* The deliberately inappropriate use of 'literally' is an in joke that my students and Jacky will get. 

We all had a heap of things in common: young; achievers; talented; not one smoker among us; white New Zealanders; sporty: middle class backgrounds; well behaved and wanting to enjoy student life to the full.

BA grad - MAGS tie, my mini!

Stage Three (1979)
Six English papers flew past and I had my B.A. Understandably, mum and dad were thrilled but to me the job was only half done. For me, the bachelor degree was purely a necessary stepping stone.

Unfortunately, at the end of those three intense years, the crazy gang broke up as they left to start their careers, leaving me to do my two years of Masters' papers on my tod. 

It's a shame how important people come and go in life. Thankfully, Facebook was invented to allow Kevy, Greg and me to remain in contact. I value their on going love and support! Plus, they are still hilarious!!

Next up - a new supporting cast and the pinnacle of success.

Love and peace - Wozza