Manhattan Dreaming (6 page)

When the director of the National Aboriginal Gallery calls you to her office, you go. And so I did, scurrying along the corridors of Old Parliament House wondering what could possibly be so urgent. There'd been budget cuts, but my exhibition had already been locked in, so it couldn't be that. I hadn't been on MySpace at work at all to spy on Adam since the internet audit had been done, so it couldn't be that. I was so far ahead in programming that I was planning exhibitions for 2013, so I knew it wasn't my work performance – and yet I still felt sick with anxiety.

‘Hi Lauren, sit down. I've got a proposition for you,' Emma said. She waved a sheet of paper in front of my face. ‘I've just received an email from the National Museum of the American Indian at the Smithsonian in New York City. They've got a visiting curator fellowship available for an Indigenous curator.' Emma was so excited she couldn't get her words out fast enough. ‘The fellowship allows the chosen curator to work on their own
original
exhibition
and
curate within the museum generally.'

‘Sounds interesting.'

‘Interesting? Lauren, it's the chance of a lifetime for a young curator! And I want
you
to apply for it. I think you'd be perfect for it.' Emma smiled the hugest, widest grin, showing off her perfectly straight teeth.

‘Me? But it's in New York. That's in America. And America is so far away, from
everything
and
everyone
!' This had come out of the blue.

‘I don't think you understand what I'm offering you,' she said. ‘Lauren, this is a dream opportunity for anyone in your field. You'd get the chance to network with other curators internationally and work with Native American artists from across the Americas.'

‘Emma, I'm so honoured you think I'm even up for the challenge, but what about my work here?'

‘We both know that you're scheduling so far ahead I haven't even been allocated my budgets to cover the exhibitions you're planning in three years' time. I'm glad you're on top of everything, but I can afford to let you go right now – especially for something as important as this. I'll poach a curator from someone else to cover for you while you're gone.'

‘It's really kind of you to think of me, but –'

‘Look, I have to be up-front with you, Lauren. I'm not doing this entirely selflessly. I want to build a relationship between the Smithsonian and the NAG. We're a fledgling gallery and we need to build our profile internationally. You're the youngest senior curator in the Pacific and having you on staff will get them – and us – heaps of publicity. Everyone wins.'

‘Everyone wins,' I repeated, not at all convinced. I felt like my life had suddenly been hijacked when I'd only just started to feel like I was focused again.

‘This fellowship would look sensational on your CV, Lauren. You'll be in a stronger position when you return to Australia, having had this experience. And your masters was about the internationalisation of Aboriginal art, so here's the perfect opportunity to put some of that theory into practice.'

Emma knew I wanted to go as far as possible in the art world, that I had my sights set on being the director of the NAG one day. But
I
knew I had plenty of time to work my way up the ranks, because Emma wasn't going anywhere for a while.

I moved to the edge of my seat, leaning into her desk. ‘I know it's a fantastic opportunity, and that it's important to my career and the gallery – it's just that – well, it's America. I like being here, even with the miserable Canberra weather. It's my second home, after Goulburn.'

‘Firstly, Lauren, it's not forever – it's twelve months, with an option to extend for another year. And secondly, and most importantly, it's not just
anywhere
in America, it's New York. The Big Apple, shopping on 5th Avenue, Broadway shows, Times Square, Central Park, the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim. Doesn't any of that interest you?'

‘To be honest, I like what's offered here locally. I'm not unhappy living in Canberra.'

‘
Not unhappy
and
happy
aren't quite the same thing, Lauren. But even if you're happy here, it doesn't mean you won't enjoy life in a big, bold, brilliant city like New York.'

I could feel myself becoming defensive.

‘How do you think someone like me – Libby calls me a country bumpkin, you know – is going to survive in New York? A lone Blackfella at that. This is big city enough for me. I was out of my depths in Sydney when I was studying.'

‘But there's a whole world out there, Lauren! New York is an exciting place for a young single girl like you.'

Single.
I had no real ties keeping me in Canberra now, even if I wished I did. Emma had no idea I'd been seeing Adam, so she didn't know we'd broken up – or why, or how – but I felt like she'd knifed me in the heart. And I knew instantly the real reason I didn't want to go was because of Adam.

‘Before you make a decision I want you to give it some serious thought. I want you to know there is no-one else I would even consider nominating. You are the best we have. And I don't say that lightly.' She handed me the email. ‘Here's the job description and all the details. They'll fly you over, we'll sort out an apartment for you before you leave, and so forth.'

‘How long have I got to decide?' I said, staring at the paper, but with Mum and Dad in my mind's eye, feeling completely overwhelmed. ‘I need to talk to my family.'

Emma looked at her desk calendar. ‘I need to know by Monday. You'd have to be leaving early next month.'

I walked the long way back to my office, stepping outside for a brief minute for some air, as I was beginning to hyperventilate. No-one at work had seen me have a panic attack, as I'd managed my anxiety well since my uni days, but I felt like one was close to the surface.

‘You all right, Lauren? You're wheezing. Are you asthmatic?' Joel from security asked.

‘Oh, yeah, fine, thanks. Not asthmatic. I must be just really unfit,' I said, pinching some flesh on my midriff. ‘Wouldn't hurt to lay off the cakes here, either,' I laughed, motioning towards the cafe.

‘This isn't a dress rehearsal, Lauren, it's life. Eat cake and be merry, I reckon. See ya.' Joel walked off chirpy and none the wiser. I looked over to the Tent Embassy monument and thought about the ongoing struggle for human rights in Australia. I breathed in, exhaled loudly, mentally slapped myself in the head and reminded myself of my responsibilities to Aboriginal artists. Emma had just paid me an enormous compliment. I went back to my desk.

‘Where have you been?' Libby asked, barely looking up from her computer.

‘Had a meeting with Emma.'

‘About?'

I handed her the advertisement for the fellowship and she immediately screamed with delight.

‘You're going to New York New York? Oh my god, I am so jealous! Take me with you.' Libby was even more excited than Emma.

‘I haven't said I'm going yet. I have to think about it. What about my family? What about Denise? What about my work here? I'll be letting too many people down.'

‘You won't be letting
anyone
down – unless you don't go and then you'll be letting us
all
down, including yourself.'

‘What about our program here?'

‘Emma wouldn't have suggested that you go if she thought it would jeopardise our program.'

‘What about Denise, then?'

‘You're Denise's flatmate, not her girlfriend, unless you've become one of those Canberra statistics and just haven't told me.'

‘Oh, you're hilarious. What about Mum and Dad, then? Dad didn't even want me to go to Sydney to study. You can imagine how he'll flip over the thought of me going to New York.'

‘Lauren, you're thirty years old, you're not Daddy's little girl any more. And I'm sure Mum Jules will be thrilled you're going to New York with all that shopping.'

‘Well then, I still need to think about Nick. He needs me too, even if I don't see him that much.'

‘Both your brothers would be happy for you to go. You know that.' Libby was making it difficult to argue with her.

‘Maybe you're right.' I sat down and tried to look at the emails that had come in while I was away from my desk, but I couldn't concentrate.

‘I don't get it,' Libby said, confused. ‘Don't you want to go to New York? Are you mad? Didn't you watch
Sex and the City
? The place is crawling with men and bars and good fun.'

‘I'm not interested in men right now, and you know it.'

‘Okay, then. While Mr Fullofhimself didn't help you get much shut-eye, at least New York City is the city that never sleeps, so it will be
perfect
for Loz-the-insomniac.'

I couldn't think straight. It was only lunchtime but I needed to go home to Goulburn. I switched off my computer and finished up for the day.

‘I've only got until Monday to decide. I need to go see Mum and Dad.'

As I drove around what used to be Lake George it looked like climate change had dried up all the water between Canberra and Goulburn. I loved the country – my country. I would miss the sense of peace it gave me if I went to New York. I sighed deeply. A few hours with Mum and Dad and my brother Max would help to clarify everything for me. I wouldn't have time to see Nick, and wasn't emotionally strong enough, but I'd write him the usual weekly letter on Sunday.

I turned off the Hume Highway, passed the Big Merino and headed into town. As I turned left into Auburn Street I saw a banner saying the Wiradjuri Echoes – my mob – would be performing in Belmore Park for NAIDOC Week. I'd miss them if I went to New York. My heartbeat settled when I saw home. The red brick house always gave me a sense of peace and security that I never felt anywhere else. As I pulled into the drive, Jerry – our family dog – came running towards me, and nearly bowled Dad over – he was working out in the garden. I was home, and didn't know how I could ever move too far from it.

‘Oh, your father and I have watched all the old movies set in New York, haven't we, Graham. I loved
An Affair to Remember
and
Breakfast at Tiffany's
. It looks like a wonderful city.' Mum was pouring tea for all of us as we sat at the kitchen table. ‘You know, I always wanted to go to America, but your father wouldn't even discuss it, and we could never afford it anyway. And here you are having someone else fly you there and give you a great job with the American Indians. How wonderful. Isn't it wonderful, Gray? Max?'

Max went to speak but didn't have a chance, as Dad was already thumping his fists on the table.

‘What are you talking about, woman? Romantic movies? What about
The Godfather
and
Goodfellas
and …' – he put his cup down – ‘and what about all those crime shows we watch on television, most of them are set in New York!' He turned to me. ‘Don't you watch the news? They shoot each other in the street in America. They fly planes into buildings in New York. They never turn the lights off in that city, waste of bloody electricity if you ask me.'

‘Come on, Gray, don't be like that. Be happy for Lauren going to the Big Apple.' Mum patted Dad's hand; she was always worrying about his blood pressure.

‘Big bloody Apple my arse. We've got Big Apples here, at Batlow, and there's one somewhere in Tassie and another one in Queensland, so I don't know why she'd want to go to some bloody big-noting apple in America.'

‘Gray, c'mon love, you're being silly. America has everything bigger and better than we have.'

‘Bigger? Better? I'm sure the Yanks don't have a Big Banana, or a Big Avocado, and you can bet your bottom dollar they ain't got a Big Mango or a Big Pineapple!'