Ask what you can do for your countryAsk what you can do for your country
Your attention please! Can we settle down. In the back there — yes, you! ... see me after.
All right then. That's better.
We have called this special school assembly today for one reason and one reason only. You are all old enough, and dare I say it, mature enough, to recognise your responsibilities whenever they are thrust upon you. Learning to be responsible is what growing up is all about. Whether you recognise it or not, each of you is on the threshold of citizenship. And it's about time you learned what that means. If I asked you what it means to be an Australian ...
Rattray! What DID I say? You weren't listening, were you?... see me after.
If I asked you what it means to be an Australian citizen — besides listening to me! — what would you say? Don't think I'm giving out one of the questions in this year's exams. Citizenship is too precious and too universal a notion to mark out of 10. Maybe there isn't one correct answer. Citizenship is something that comes from within — something from the heart and so deeply personal that it is almost impossible to define.
But one thing I know: with citizenship there rights, but also responsibilities. As a great man once said: "Ask not what your country can do for you but rather, what you can do for your country".
Think about that. What you can do for your country is, to my mind, what being an Australian citizen is all about. Citizenship equals responsibility and responsibility, dare I say it, is the same as — anyone? What is responsibility also equal to? — Maturity! They're one and the same.
Citizenship, Responsibility and Maturity go hand in hand. Just think of the formula: C = R = M.
So today you can learn to be good citizens. You are fortunate to be invited to ask: what can I do for my country? You're not being asked to fight in Australia's wars (not yet anyway) like I was. You're not being asked to put your life on the line like I was. Your country asks of you but one thing: stay at school. Be yourselves a year or two longer.
Quiet! QUI ... ET! Settle down. I don't like it either. But remember the formula: C = R = M. Your country asks this one thing of you because — for reasons I cannot go into at the moment — we can't find anything else for you to do. And the government doesn't want to pay you to do nothing. So whether you like it or not you're stuck here ... with me. And I'm stuck here ... with you. So let's make the best of it. You'll turn 18 soon and we can be rid of one another.
In the meantime, patience has its rewards. Maybe the same job will be there when you leave us. It's possible! You're sure to be paid exactly the same as if you were 16 or 17. You lose nothing except one or two years out of your young lives. Enjoy.
Just imagine you're attending a creche for teenagers and when those unemployment figures are published next you'll be able to say: CRM! CRM! I've done my bit for my country! And anyone who doesn't like it ... can see me after.
By Dave Riley
E-mail: dhell@ozemail.com.au