Emilie Collyer

The Sydney Entertainment Centre is filled with a roaring crowd. We are on our feet, stamping, clapping and cheering. Coloured lights flash on stage as an announcement comes over the loudspeaker. The smell of sweat and anticipation emanates from every body. It’s the final session of the National Achievers Congress, and Donald Trump is about […]

The day after my father died in February 2001, I was at my parents’ place, doing the things you do when someone has died. Making lists and cups of tea, buzzing on the energy of shock and the many tasks involved with organising funeral arrangements. I happened to answer the telephone. It was my father’s […]

I stand in doorways, trying to get a hold of the rules. They seem to be: comment on child’s growth and/or new haircut; make a joke at her father’s expense; make polite enquiry into general work and/or leisure activities. Usually it’s a Saturday morning, and we are picking the child up or she is getting […]