'My Machine Makes Rainbows'
Updated: May 19, 2022

"Happiness Is Being Me"
- Sister Augustine Nolan,
her chapter title from
'My Machine Makes Rainbows'

This photo is of myself aged 10, then known as Julie Albers, with Julie Butner holding incense under my nose in an olfactory sensory guessing game. This pic was used in the chapter ‘Variety Is the Spice of Writing' from the book in which Beryl’s wonderful teachings (and those of a number of other progressive and radical thinking Australian and PNG teachers and educators) were published - 'My Machine Makes Rainbows'
That tree
looks suspiciously
like God
what'll i do
i can't hide
it musta seen me
at least six months
before now
- excerpt from a poem by me, aged 10

"Variety is the Spice of Writing"
- Beryl Muspratt's chapter title from
'My Machine Makes Rainbows'
There are some teachers you never forget. I've had a couple of outstanding teachers in my life, one was the unforgettable Dr Ione Lewis, my University Lecturer, and Dean at Canberra University, a most warm, inspirational and highly intelligent woman.
The other was my dearest friend, mentor and primary school teacher, Beryl. Beryl Muspratt.
Where did she appear from in that small conservative town, Nambour? But things are not always as they appear. Under the veil of small-town conservatism there beat a radical heart, and that radical heart was Beryl's!
For me, there's been absolutely no other to match her. No one could hope to. No-one should even try. She stands alone in her glory.
Her influence has been far-ranging, many were touched by her insistent, thoughtful, sensitive yet strong and open nurturing of creative brilliance.
When I was ten years old, I was invited into a progressive classroom by a very special teacher. One of her students who became one of Australia’s (Labor Party) Prime Minister's remembers her as a very figural person in the development of his philosophies on life.
This was the Prime Minister that was first to finally publicly apologise to Australia’s Indigenous community in the famous, incredibly long overdue and very emotional for all, “Sorry” speech.
Beryl Muspratt had a very humble attitude about her very innovative and radical (for those days) methods as a phenomenal, inspiring and unforgettable teacher, who changed the inner landscape of an entire community and thus the view of the wider Australian and global community forever. Because this is how it works.
From little things big things grow.
Beryl took things in hand, and from the boring rows and lines expected by the education department, she re-arranged all her desks in clusters of circles around the room in what was then known as the wonderful open-air classroom style, with our lovingly hand-painted large murals hanging around the walls, and fresh air and sunshine pouring in.
And so began a year of creativity par excellence! Never to be forgotten!
I remember Beryl’s way of making every moment of every day a living breathing gem.
Beryl adored creative writing and we spent most of our time in the arts – this was heaven on earth. Drawing, painting and writing.
We wrote stories and poetry every day and devised fabulous art styles using crayons, acrylic paints and anything else we could get our hands on often from wandering in the gardens and fields outside. Her whole teaching style was warm and embracing, and each child felt personally very special and loved.

Having taught myself to read at the age of five, and reading epic novels at that age, and writing poetry, I’d been a difficult proposition for some earlier teachers but not for Beryl - she lovingly and warmly nurtured my appetite for creativity, challenging and inviting me to excel and enjoy every moment of my life. She and I both agreed there's no such thing as boredom! It just didn't ever exist as a thing, for either of us. Beryl also started and ran the local youth theatre - YPT - for many years. She changed my life and my world forever. Completely wonderful teacher, loved her with all my heart, still do - and we had the same birthday...there was such a strong connection there.
Write-up in the local Nambour Chronicle, 1970. My surname was then Albers
(my mother's 2nd marriage) I was aged 10.