I haven't fallen literally on my arse for at least two weeks (had a bit of an incident in the shower at Hotel KaznSteve , but it didn't even leave a bruise, so it's hardly worth mentioning), but I have well and truly fallen down in a metaphorical sense. Fallen down and scraped both knees, and even though I'm 40 years old, I feel like crying to Mum about it. I came to this uni course full of confidence, straight from a job I felt I was good at, to do something that I was sure I would be great at. I felt that the stars and planets had all aligned to make my high school teaching ambitions come true, on the second time of trying. I was available, and – at QUT at least – qualified. I could get financial assistance from Centrelink (Austudy is more generous than Newstart, so it would marginally easier to survive without working). Friends and family all thought it was a great idea. Then I started. By the time I got over the physical shock of uni life I had fallen
Personal reflections from my life as a high school teacher with a disability.