Vale Bruce Dawe

NHS Alumnus (Class of 1946)

The Ex-students’ Association and the Northcote community is saddened by the recent passing of Professor Bruce Dawe AO. Bruce left school and experienced several jobs before joining the RAAF. His brilliance as an Australian literary figure emerged after WWII and his poetry was greatly appreciated throughout Australia, being studied by generations of senior students.

He added academic qualifications including Masters’ degrees and several doctorates. He became Professor of English at the University of Southern Queensland. He was awarded numerous distinguished prizes for his poetry which reflected on Australian life and activities.

Ripples stated about him as a student in 1945 that he was a “budding Australian author.” Bruce visited Northcote High School several times and always said that the great inspiration for his writing was his English teacher, George Stirling. Bruce dedicated a poem to the school and to George Stirling at the School’s 60th Jubilee. He was truly an alumnus of whom the school can be justifiable proud.

Commemorative Poem

 for George Stirling, English Master

                                        and for Northcote High

School, where my schooling ended - and began!

Where my good fortune was to meet a man

who knocked a good-sized opening in the wall

surrounding me from words -  I saw the tall

shapes of the trees beyond , the strange

creatures of language move – just out of range

of sixteen–year old eyesight, and the blurred

criss-cross swoop of many a nameless bird …

For forty years since then I’ve walked around

the world beyond the wall and thanked the ground

for being there, and without knowing why

pitched a few questions at the listening sky

and looked back at the school mag. of ‘45

there are lots of ways of knowing you’re alive

and one is looking back to slowly count

the credit entries in the ledger, how they mount

(Commercial Principles and Maths, were not, I know,

my better subjects - let the record show!) …

But still, like Edith Piaf, I regret

nothing, and have no reason to forget.

I’m still glad I caught the morning tram

in Brunswick Street that led to where I am.

St. George’s Road’s still there, as is the school,

and someone else’s son now plays the fool

and cops it, like I sometimes did …

                           And I would hope

there are stirling teachers still who learn to cope

with all the dopey acts we get up to, and all

the awkward ways we try to pierce the wall

the wall of what’s between us and the light

in the open parkland where things come out right.

Written by Bruce Dawe