Lest We Forget

April 29, 2021

Another Anzac Day has passed – each one unique in the way it observes the contributions of Australians and New Zealanders…

Another Anzac Day has passed – each one unique in the way it observes the contributions of Australians and New Zealanders who have served their nations in war, conflict or peace-keeping operations. Last year, this occurred via my driveway and this year, I found myself at Webb Park with a number of our Boarders and Boarding staff, ‘lighting up the dawn’ and marking the occasion via a pre-recorded RSL service. It wasn’t the Dawn Service that I have attended religiously for so many years, but it was an important commemorative gesture, nonetheless. On Friday, our whole school had joined on the lawn adjacent to the Performing Arts Building for an Anzac commemoration. Such occasions are powerful – they demand our silence and our attention, and they require us to pause and earmark history: lest we forget.


Rightly or wrongly, I always find myself drawn back in my thinking to Gallipoli, such has been the impact of that narrative upon the way I consider Anzac Day. In 2013 I was privileged to travel to Gallipoli, albeit via an interminably long bus trip with a Turkish tour guide who was trying to present a palatable version of events to tourists of different nationalities and different national allegiances. He tried. So too did the Spanish tourist who must have inadvertently joined the tour without knowledge of Gallipoli nor sufficient English to process the volumes of information being shared over the course of that long day.


It is impossible not to be moved by the landscape of Gallipoli – particularly, the diminutive size of the beach landing site or The Nek (of Mel Gibson fame) where nearly 350 Western Australians became casualties in just a few minutes on a battlefield similar in size to a Netball court. Lone Pine also, is small and whilst the name looms largely in narratives about Anzac Day it appears almost vulnerable at its location. One can see from the beach, the second ridge where the Australians were ordered to stop for morning tea. Nine months and 8000 deaths later, they had travelled little distance beyond this point.


But what moved me most profoundly at Gallipoli was seeing the healing words of Ataturk that were attributed to him in 1934 and carved for posterity into marble at Anzac Cove. These beautifully-crafted words (though not without some contention about who the target audience was) form the open letter he allegedly wrote to the mothers of the Australian, New Zealand, Canadian and British soldiers who had died on the Gallipoli battlefields:


Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives… You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore, rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours... You, the mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well.



So, a war narrative can also be read, to some extent, as a peace narrative, and for those who have travelled to Turkey you will know the high regard in which Aussies are considered by so many locals. Irrespective of whether these words were directed to mothers or were merely part of a hastily written speech by Ataturk, delivered by one of his ministers, at Gallipoli in 1934 as a gesture of reconciliation with the (then) British Empire, is a matter for historians. For me, it is an olive branch of sorts, one that sits awkwardly juxtaposed against the detritus of a battle that was ill-conceived, poorly executed, and hauntingly catastrophic.


Forgiveness, reconciliation and clemency are tough concepts for all of us and if this Ataturk gesture has a mythological basis, I’m still keen to honour whatever threads of truth are weft within his words, etched in marble at Anzac Cove. Because, I am ever reminded of the words of First World War I British poet, Wilfred Owen, who warned against us glorifying the myth of war in his epic work: ‘Dulce Et Decorum Est’. Instead, may we value peace and reconciliation as ideals for which to strive…

Lest we forget, this Anzac Day and all that are to follow.



Dr Linda Evans | Principal



More News…

Grace’s grand jete into the world of ballet

By Sarah Richardson • May 22, 2025
From the moment she could walk, Grace Andersen was dancing. At just two years old, she took her first ballet class, not quite knowing that her tiny feet were stepping onto the path of a lifelong passion. ‘I didn’t always love it,’ she admits, ‘but I did it anyway.’ It wasn’t until a change of schools in Year 1, moving to JE Dance , that Grace fell in love with dance in a whole new way. She thought ballet was the only style out there, until she discovered contemporary, jazz, and more. But ballet always held her heart. ‘There’s just something about it,’ Grace says. ‘I like the structure. With ballet, you need the right technique, it’s disciplined. That’s what I love.’ Now, ballet is more than a hobby; it’s a central part of Grace’s daily life. She trains nearly every day. Monday through Friday at JE, and on Thursdays she leaves school early to travel to Brisbane for coaching with Classical Coaching Australia. ‘It started this year,’ she says, ‘and I’ve already learned so much.’ This dedication recently led Grace to one of the most exciting moments of her young career - being cast in Queensland Ballet’s Coppélia during its regional performance in Toowoomba. ‘At first, Mum and I thought it would be like any other show,’ Grace recalls. ‘But then we had to fill out forms with bank account details, that’s when we realised it was something more.’ And it was. Grace was cast in not one, but two roles: the opening dancer as Little Coppélia, and a Smith sister in the village scene. ‘It was such a big surprise. When the curtain went up, I was the first dancer on stage. It was amazing.’ Performing with Queensland Ballet offered Grace more than just a moment in the spotlight, it gave her a glimpse into the world she dreams of joining. ‘Just seeing everyone there… it showed me what it would be like to be a professional dancer, which is what I’ve wanted since I was really little.’ Her ultimate dream? To dance with the Paris Opera Ballet, and one day become a ballet mistress, coaching and mentoring future dancers in a top company. ‘But first, I want to get into a good ballet school or academy,’ she says. ‘It takes a lot of practice. On weekends, I bring my ballet ball out to the living room and stretch or do rises while watching TV.’ Grace doesn’t just talk about hard work, she lives it. Her weeks are full, her schedule demanding, but her love for ballet never wavers. ‘You definitely have to be strong and fit and flexible, but most of all, you have to love it.’ While she doesn’t have a famous ballerina idol, she finds inspiration closer to home. ‘My mum was a dancer. She went on pointe and everything. She didn’t perform in shows like I do, but she helps me, and I really look up to her.’ Up next, Grace is preparing for her role in The Fairy Queen with Brisbane City Youth Ballet this winter. It’s her third time with the company, and she’s already setting her sights on what comes next. Because for Grace, ballet isn’t just a series of steps, it’s the rhythm of her future.

Dynamic Dramatic Duo

By Sarah Richardson • May 22, 2025
School mates cast in lead roles for the Empire Theatre’s 2025 Junior Impact Production When Phoebe Hohn and Sammy Cheetham auditioned for this year’s Junior Impact Production, Soul Trading, they had no idea they’d be cast opposite each other in two of the show’s leading roles. Set in the year 2079, Soul Trading is a futuristic play that explores a world where every child’s future is shaped by their personal learning robot – except for one. Phoebe plays Geri, a quirky and fiercely independent girl who refuses to follow the AI-dominated path everyone else is on. ‘Geri doesn’t have a bot like the others. She’s different, and she’s proud of it,’ says Phoebe. ‘I love playing someone who questions everything and isn’t afraid to go her own way.’ Her co-star, Sammy, takes on the complex role of Neutron, a clever and rebellious robot who doesn’t quite fit the mould. ‘Neutron is actually an illegal robot that Geri secretly 3D printed,’ Sammy explains. ‘She’s bright, ambitious, and wants to live a free life – but Geri tricks her into thinking she’ll die if she leaves.’ Throughout the show, Neutron cleverly manipulates both humans and bots to bend the rules and follow her lead. For Sammy, this is her second year involved in the Junior Impact Ensemble. ‘Last year, I was part of Our Egg Named Larry, and I absolutely fell in love with the program,’ she says. ‘That experience made me want to audition again this year, and I was thrilled to receive one of the main roles.’ Phoebe and Sammy, who are also speech and drama partners, supported each other through the audition process and have relished the opportunity to bring this fast-paced, futuristic story to life together. Their characters’ dynamic is central to the narrative, and their real-life friendship brings depth and energy to every rehearsal. With the production set to hit the Armitage Centre stage this July, both students say the experience has pushed them creatively and helped them grow in confidence. ‘Performing in a space like the Armitage is a dream,’ Phoebe says. ‘It’s exciting and a little bit surreal.’ We can’t wait to see Phoebe and Sammy shine on stage as Geri and Neutron – two bold characters in a brave new world.

10 minutes with Ebbeny Williams-Cherry

By Sarah Richardson • May 22, 2025
10 minutes with Ebbeny Williams-Cherry, 2025 Fairholme College Prefect for the Arts and lead character in Midnight: The Cinderella Musical.
All News