THE BOY AND THE DREAM
Franklin Public School, Tumut, Wiradjuri Country
Well, I’m back once again at Franklin Public School, this time for my fifth visit. I’ve been coming here for years, and out of all the schools I’ve had the privilege of visiting, Franklin would probably have to be one of my favourites. The kids are awesome, the teachers are great, and there’s always such a genuine sense of happiness when I arrive. Everyone knows me by now, and they’re always so happy to see me again.
There’s something pretty special about returning to a school where the relationship has grown over time. I’m not just walking into a new place anymore. I’m coming back to familiar faces, familiar surroundings and a community that has welcomed me back time and time again.
This time, I was invited to paint the library wall, and what an honour that was. The request from the school was wonderfully simple: “Austin, just come up with something.” Something imaginative, something completely from my own imagination. That wasn’t exactly a difficult brief for me.
I went back to my sketchpad and started playing with ideas. Eventually, I landed on a boy riding a whale. But this wasn’t a whale swimming through the ocean. This whale was flying through the sky, with the boy sitting on its back, surrounded by clouds and travelling somewhere that didn’t quite exist anywhere on a map. I imagined the whole illustration with a modern, almost anime-inspired style, something that felt connected to the visual language of contemporary children’s books.
Somewhere between the drawing and the painting, the idea began to turn into a story. A story about a boy who likes to travel, not the sort of travelling where you know where you’re going, but the other sort. The sort where you leave with a little curiosity and absolutely no idea what might happen next.
THE BOY & THE DREAM
There was once a boy who liked to travel. He liked places that weren’t on the map and doors that hadn’t been opened. He liked looking behind things, around things and sometimes underneath them. One day, he found a book and opened it. The first page took him somewhere, so he turned another, then another. Somewhere along the way, he stopped wondering where the journey would end.
He had discovered that the best part of travelling was not knowing. Every page was a doorway, and every doorway was a possibility. Beyond the next page there was always something he had never seen before, so he kept going. Not because he knew the way, and not because he knew what would happen, but because the unknown had begun to feel a little like home.
And perhaps that is what a dream really is. Not a place you know you will reach, but simply the courage to turn the page and see what’s there.
As I was getting ready to leave, the school had an assembly. Emily, the principal, called me up to the front to say thank you for being there. What could I really say except thank you for having me? It was such a lovely moment, because the thing I notice most about Franklin isn’t just the artwork. It’s the love that is so clearly present throughout the school.
You can see it in the students, you can see it in the teachers, and you can see it in the environment they’ve created together. I feel incredibly honoured to have played even a small part in that.
I had a conversation with the Principal Emily afterwards, and she told me that even when some of the students go away on school camp, there are times when they don’t want to leave the school. It’s their safe place, their sanctuary.
And strangely enough, I think I understand that feeling. Because after coming back here five times, I’ve fallen in love with Franklin too. I’ve even fallen in love with Tumut because of this school.
There are places you visit because you have a job to do, and then there are places that become part of your journey. Franklin has become one of those places for me.
And perhaps that’s the funny thing about dreams. You sometimes set out thinking you’re going somewhere else, only to discover that you’ve already arrived somewhere you never knew you were looking for.
Comments