Free Caprice by Doris Pilkington Garimara Page A

he was divorced from his wife because life with him was “dull and boring”. His interests werereading, films and fishing. At that stage in my life I was convinced that I had become frigid and unable to share an intimate relationship. I was content to leave things as they were, sharing friendship and companionship.

The Graduation
    It was 4 o’clock in the afternoon and the heat was unbearable, so still and sweltering. The Fremantle Doctor was late coming in as usual. I had planned to sleep through it, but my three boisterous grandsons decided otherwise. There was only one place left where I could relax and reflect on events and incidents of the past year, and that was the bathroom.
    So for the next twenty minutes I soaked in a tepid bath undisturbed.
    Three years ago the chances of furthering my education were so remote that even doing a course at a TAFE college seemed highly unlikely. Yet here I am on this hot November afternoon preparing for a very special evening—the graduation ceremony of the Aboriginal Bridging Course students 1981 at the Western Australian Institute of Technology. There are eighteen graduates, sixteen women and only two men; the females outnumber the males once again. This is a statement in itself and one that should dispel the myth that has persisted throughout the decades that women are merely “breeders, feeders and follow the leaders”. We see ourselves as strivers and survivors. Our contribution not only to Aboriginal society but to the wider community is well documented. Women hold prominent positions and are attaining increasingly important rolesin administration at all levels in welfare, education, business and the arts.
    There are a few students like myself still suffering low self-esteem and the effects of traumatic experiences. A couple of students who have had little or no contact with Aboriginal people were going through an identity crisis. Thankfully, all these problems have been overcome and adjustments made by the end of the course. I readily adjusted to city life but found it extremely difficult being a fulltime mature-aged student on a tertiary campus. But persistence and determination paid off in the long run. All the study and hard work had come to fruition, and I want to look my best this evening.
    Later as I sat at my dresser the reflection in the mirror showed a fairly attractive woman with careworn lines around the eyes and greying around the temples. A grandmother of forty-one years, this woman with dark neatly trimmed hair brushed up into a flattering style. It was normally straight, thick and lacked lustre. But today it was glossy and seemed to make my dark eyes look brighter. Later when my daughter Vicki completed the facial makeup, she stood back and surveyed her handiwork. She nodded, satisfied with the results, “Mum you look different, beautiful in fact. A little bit of makeup, a bit of colour here and there, especially mauves and blues really suits you, you should wear it often.”
    I was flattered. I have never worn makeup before. My Christian principles disallowed and discouraged with adages such as “A little bit of powder, a little bit of paint, makes a lady what she aint.”
    When David Larsen, my companion and escort, called to pick me up, I could see that he approved of my new image—my glamorous, flattering appearance
    â€œGee, Kate you look lovely,” he said.
    I am glad I chose to wear the mauve and white suitwith matching white shoes. I felt all bubbly and beautiful as we drove to the campus at Bentley.
    The day that I strived for these past three years had finally arrived. And as I took my place in the second row with my fellow graduates, the class of ’81, I became acutely aware of the ambience—an atmosphere filled with nervous anticipation and excitement that seemed to permeate the entire length and breadth of the Hollis Theatre.
    However, my nervousness and anxiety quickly disappeared as I stepped on