Here we go again!

Image via: Pixabay

The other day, I was in my kids' bedroom and through the window, I watched a woman stake an Australian flag in the ground at my letterbox. She went around the whole neighbourhood sticking flags in the ground outside everyone's house. It turns out she's a local Real Estate Agent and she does this every year. A handful of people on the local community Facebook page were thrilled and thanked her, saying it made their kids happy and to keep it up. To be honest, I saw it as a bit of a passive aggressive act, given the current national debate so close to Invasion Day. At the very least it was tone deaf and defiant. I simply went outside after she was gone and put the flag in the bin. I discussed this with a few people. The reaction was mixed. Most people like to sit on the fence in this kind of debate. Her intentions may have been good, she didn't mean any harm. Or is it a subtle message about who is still in charge and what the sentiment in this community is? I asked the question, where are the Aboriginal flags? What if someone did the same so close to January 26 and planted Aboriginal flags outside everyone's home. I would like that. I believe many people in my community would see it as an act of aggression. 

EQUALITY FEELS LIKE OPPRESSION WHEN YOU'RE USED TO PRIVILEGE!

I'm paying attention to the national discussion again this year. It feels like every year it picks up a bit more momentum. Rallies are being organised all over the country, there are festivals being organised by Aboriginal groups celebrating culture and honouring remembrance, and the discussion is filtering into the (very resistant) mainstream media.

What I'm noticing is a huge case of national cognitive dissonance. People are affronted by change and when they are confronted with the reality of how provocative having an Australia Day celebration happen on January 26th is, the day the First Fleet landed on our shores; when they are faced with acknowledging that this day is not a shared day of unity and jubilation, but for many a painful slap in the face that reminds them of the attempted destruction of their culture, that only a specific group of people think this day is an appropriate day to celebrate their version of what this nation is, people tend to hold on tighter to their way of doing things. I understand that for many people, the idea of redefining who and what Australia really is, is terrifying. Sometimes I think that they imagine what it would be like if the shoe was on the other foot. If Anglo Australia surrendered its homogeneous identity and relinquished some of its power, would they suddenly be treated as poorly as the treatment they have inflicted on others in the past? I'd be scared too.

It's interesting how this cognitive dissonance plays out. The little symbols and the not so little ones. All the shops start selling Australia Day paraphernalia, or people, you know, start staking the flag at your letterbox. The language and symbolism in the media is persistent. It's all about selling booze and food, having a BBQ and speaking in Aussie slang. These images are from my local paper, The Manly Daily, who incidentally, included an Australian flag with their last delivery.

Image via: The Manly Daily

Image via: The Manly Daily

Image via: The Manly Daily

 

Image via: The Manly Daily

The other thing I've noticed is how the status quo will manipulate non-white Australians into participating in perpetuating the dominant paradigm. They will literally use dark skinned or ethnically diverse models and personalities to promote white culture. See, they seem to say, this includes you! It's gaslighting.

Image via: The Manly Daily

Image via: Aldi catalogue

I try and reflect upon my own response to these things and why I feel the way I do. I get why. In the good old days of inappropriate language, I'm what was commonly referred to as a "wog". Never mind that I was born here and have spent the majority of my life living in Australia. My parents are Maltese, I have dark hair, skin that swings from light to dark with only a little sun exposure and a big nose. I have had an interesting version of growing up in Australia. I pass as Aussie most of the time. I speak the language well, have an Australian accent and use lots of Aussie slang: "mate" mostly. I know my way around, I've lived all over Sydney, I was educated in Australia and am "assimilated" - whatever the hell that is. I get what being a mainstream Australian is all about. Sometimes, I don't pass. I was always mistaken for Greek or Italian growing up. Sometimes, I'm sure people assume I'm Arabic, especially if they hear me speaking in Maltese. It's a language of both Latin and Semitic origin. I've been asked if I was Turkish. I've also been asked if I was Jewish. I'm sure it's the nose.

It's a unique experience being mostly acceptable, passable as Australian, but sometimes not. I'm still othered and different when it suits people to undermine me. However, most of the time I can get away with not being vilified and condemned because I tick a lot of the boxes for what it means to be acceptably Australian. Am I not Aussie enough because I don't have blonde hair and blue eyes or Anglo heritage? I'd never understood this properly until recently. How can a second generation English person be considered more "Australian" than say, a person with Chinese heritage that goes back to the gold rush days? I know now. White supremacy, that's why.

So where to from here? I'm not sure what we are doing as a family this Friday. Probably nothing. It's going to be hot and it's easier to stay home and catch up on stuff around the house when you have a public holiday and small children. I'm reluctant to go to the beach because I know I am going to be triggered by people who are defiantly claiming their right to celebrate the unlawful invasion of this land. I've been to parties where there were so many Australian flags, it felt like I was at the Nuremberg rally. Last year we went to Yabun Festival in the city. It was a beautiful day and I loved exposing my young kids to Aboriginal culture, music, dance and community. 

For a long time, I supported the campaign to change the date, but to what? It is something we, as a nation, have still not yet resolved. I'm leaning towards abolishing it altogether until there is real structural change. I am listening to the important voices of Aboriginal elders and activists and that is what they are telling us. We need to disassemble so much still. A day that celebrates this nation, truly represents everyone and has made peace with our history, committed to healing the present and is looking forward to an inclusive and equal future for everyone; that day hasn't arrived yet. Maybe we can aim for that day and then we'll have a date. I envision treaty with and reparation for all Aboriginal nations, I look forward to a Republic, I wish for a new flag and a new national anthem. All those things are still coming despite the resistance and denial.

I know for many people it feels like change is happening too fast and suddenly and we need to go slower. I wholeheartedly disagree. Resistance has been happening from day one and many have been speaking about these issues for decades. I think we are at the pointy end of it to be honest. Many have been gradually seeing reason. I mean just in the last few years we've seen this debate gain momentum and the backlash that goes along with it, reflected in the emergence of right wing politics and fascist ideology, the ideals people thought they'd got rid of for good during the last couple of world wars. Isn't it funny that some of the people who solemnly celebrate things like ANZAC Day are some of the most resistant to acknowledging the white supremacy that established this nation in the first place! We don't need to go any slower. We've gone too slow for too long and change is now undeniable and inevitable.

For now we have to be honest with ourselves. We have to work towards reconciliation by facing up to the destruction that our colonial history subjected our Indigenous people to. We have to move past the anger and the hurt and the confusion and look towards reclaiming our identity. As a white, (sometimes brownish), big-nosed person, I feel so much sorrow when I think about what our country and the whole world lost when we destroyed Indigenous cultures globally. I imagine what a world that shared resources peacefully from the start would have looked like. I wonder how differently we would have navigated, as humans, things like the environment, birth, sex, death, infrastructure, medicine, law, politics, exploration, science, astronomy and survival. I wonder how much more inclusive of women, the elderly and children, of all colours, we would have been if humanity had not been held captive by the ideology of whiteness, masculinity, wealth and religion over the last couple of millenniums. Because it's not a new idea that people can live in harmony and with equality. We wouldn't have survived this long as a species if we weren't altruistic, co-operative and diplomatic for the majority of the time.

Aboriginal people have been on this land for around 80,000 years, the science is still uncertain and I suspect will change to show us that it has been much longer. The arrival of the First Fleet didn't end the "stone age" here, as Piers Akerman ignorantly brain farted on Twitter the other day. The people that inhabited this land for so long before the British arrived, did so prosperously and expertly for millennia. And despite efforts to destroy them completely, they have survived and thrived. Isn't that enough proof that the colonialists were wrong? That's where we are at. Time's up alright. Time's up for a lot of things and if we're truthful, we can move forward and fix this mess.

A Time to be Impolite

  

Image via: emaze.com

 

The other day, I saw the best Tweet. Thank you @XannieW.

It's funny how whenever there is a debate or clash of ideas, people suddenly become peace makers and fence sitters. Everyone scrambles madly for their high horse and self-righteousness, like the moral high ground is all of a sudden the place to be and the moral high road is the only way to get there. If only they really believed that. They only pull that card when someone stands up to their bullshit, because most of the time they're placing barriers to morality.

As I've said before and will say again, fuck that noise. No. I don't have to be respectful of lies. I don't have to respect bigotry, sexism, misogyny, racism, homophobia, religious delusion, hatred, child abuse, irrational, apologist, cowardly and vile ideas or behaviour.

If you support a sexist and racist arsehole like Donald Trump or Pauline Hanson or Tony Abbott or Scott Morrison or Peter Dutton or Miranda Devine or some other dipshit who's head is so far up their bum, they can't see the light of day....I DON'T HAVE TO LIKE YOU OR BE NICE TO YOU.

If you still believe there's a man sitting on a throne in the sky, telling people who they should be having sex with, telling women what to do with their bodies, asking for heaps of money that never gets to the poor, only to the fat, sexless, perverted priests in their delusional and untouchable cocoons....I DON'T HAVE TO LIKE YOU OR RESPECT YOU.

If you are more offended by me criticising religion, churches, politicians, injustice, people who don't 'get' science, people who are old fashioned, people who refuse to educate themselves, people who are more comfortable with what they have been brainwashed to believe than the truth; if that offends you more than the damage these idiots inflict on all of us.....I DON'T HAVE TO LIKE YOU OR TOLERATE YOUR IGNORANCE.

Opinions are an interesting thing. Everyone has their own view of the world based on their genetics, their upbringing, their education and environment. That is all well and good when it comes to some things. If you hate Skittles, good luck to you. I think they are the tastiest, fruitiest, sweetest lollies on earth. It doesn't bother me if you don't like them. That is a matter of taste and opinion.

If you hate women, people of colour, LGBTIQ, the disabled, think abortion is murder and think it's forgivable to lock up innocent people in detention or excuse pedophile priests; that isn't an opinion. That isn't a logical and acceptable state of mind. It isn't a matter of taste or upbringing or education. If you don't understand those concepts, your opinion is based in fear and ignorance. Not reality and not fact. And your reality and your idea of fact is harmful, destructive and wrong. If you hate Skittles, that doesn't matter to anyone, but you and your deprived taste buds, poor things.

So I'll make it clear. These days I am very comfortable with eliminating people from my circle of family and friends. Since having children in particular, I feel a very strong obligation to be very choosy about who I associate with, who I will allow into my sphere of influence and mutual love, who I expose my children to. I have no time for oxygen thieves. I don't have to be nice. I don't have to explain. It's not my job to accommodate your ignorance.

I am making room for people of like mind and heart. I know many others who are doing the same and we are gravitating towards each other into a force to be reckoned with. We are changing the world. One small step, one system, one decision at a time. 

I urge you all to do the same. No fear. Keep speaking out against the things that you know are wrong. The things that divide us. Look for opportunities to make those "opinions": that women are less, that people of colour are less, that LGBTIQ are less, that different-abled bodies are less; make those "opinions" as unacceptable as they are. Zero tolerance should be applied to those world views that are holding us back.

And try Skittles again. They're delicious.

The Queens Have Never Left

Photo credit: scratcherpen.deviantart.com

Something is stirring. The moon has been out during the day. It makes our kind more intuitive. More sensitive to the unseen, subtle shifts and covert little nigglings seemingly so clever and courageous to the poor little empty hearted souls who try to concoct them. We can smell it a mile away and we no longer need to put a lot of effort into sniffing them out and hunting them down, do we. Silly little cunts. They tell us where they're going to be and when. Like this.

What should we do? Should we just shut it down now? Nice and quickly. Clean. Leaving only a small cloud of dust that evaporates as quickly as it came. Or should we play a bit. Tease and torment, ridicule, humiliate. Stoop to the levels they're attempting to impose. Speak their language. You know, hold up a mirror for them to reflect upon their own image. Teach them a lesson. Get off our self righteous pedestal because being better people has not served us well with them. They don't speak the language of compassion. We have to be as brutal as they are. Fight Fire with Fire. Get our hands dirty. Dive in head first and come out bruised and bloodied, because it's what they want and what will ultimately give us the most satisfaction, because we want to take them down hard and revel in the blood lust of our ultimate triumph. Because of course we will win. We already have. We do, over and over again. It's not even an even fight. Poor fuckers. They don't even know it. They still don't even know it. They lose and fall and fail time and time again, but they still come back for another smack down. 

It's getting exhausting. But they're not giving us a choice. No matter how much we shout "STAY DOWN. STAY DOWN MOTHER FUCKER. DON'T GET UP AGAIN. JUST STAY DOWN. KNOW YOUR FUCKING PLACE."

They think we're taking the piss. They think we are just appropriating them. They think we're mimicking them. They think our intentions are just like theirs. To win. To take power. To alleviate our fear and inflate our egos. But it isn't is it. And no matter how much we explain it to them. No matter how much we dumb it down. They still don't get it. 

We've told them time and time again. "This isn't about you. It's not about your ego. We don't give a shit what you want. We don't want what you have. We don't really care whether you live or die. We just want what is ours. What's right and just. The good of the masses. Justice. Peace."

They look at us with glazed eyes and slack jaws. Drooling, monosyllabic grunts and flailing their stupid arms and puffing out their silly chests. Beating them like it would scare us off. Pffft.

They think they're organised. They think they have an army behind them. They think they're pretty clever and they think they are strong. I've laughed about this so hard, I lost my breath. Gulped for air, tears streaming down my face. Trying to compose myself long enough to empathise, but it devours me again. Waves and waves of hysterics. Laughter so deep, so uncontrollable that I can barely believe the concept of what they're proposing even exists. Please. Please.....don't get me started again. Let me finish this!!!

So. What to do. What to do about it once and for all.

Tear them limb from limb. Pluck out their fucking ugly eyes and uglier hearts and kick them til they're broken. Pulverised into a smear of hair and bone and jelly. Throw them all into a heap and torch the fuckers. And film it and play it on a loop for the others to see. THAT'S WHAT THEY DO TO US!!!

No. There's a much better way. The laughing helps. It helps so much. And they fucking hate that. The pointing and the laughing. It feels so good. It boggles their little minds. They hate it more than the blood letting. They don't want to be ridiculed. They don't realise they're ridiculous. It's beyond them.

Point and laugh. Ok, that's number one.

Breathe. Breathe the air they think is theirs. Take up all the space. Take it. TAKE IT. It's yours. Yours before it was ever theirs and yours after they steal any of it. They can't ever take it all. They're trying, poor dears. Trying so hard to take the air and space. Here it comes again. That wave of mirth. It's bigger than me, the joy. It fuels me.

Right. Point, laugh, breathe, take up space.

Words and noise. We need words and noise. They hate that too. Always telling us to shut up. Telling us what words and noise we can make if any. Nope. Mine. My words and noise are mine. If I want to wail like a fucking banshee, I will. If I want to sing like a lunatic, watch me. If I want to rage like a machine, try and stop me. Just try. Better yet, try and stop us.

We're pretty loud when we're on the same page. We don't have to meet to make a crowd. We're here. And we're not going anywhere. And when we think the same things, all at the same time. That electricity. That momentum. That force is more powerful than their tiny little brains can even fathom. Sometimes, we can just raise our eyes to meet theirs head on, raise an eyebrow and watch them explode. You know what I'm talking about don't you. Enough said.

So let's do it. Before this shit gets out of hand. But as if we can go that far backwards. Not now. There are too many of us.

Point at their stupid heads.
Laugh your heart out at their arrogance.
Breathe in as much air, take up as much space - starve them of existence.
Say whatever you want, tell them. Loudly. Shout at them and scream your intolerance. Your resistance. Pound your fists, kick the doors, turn over the tables.

We have to keep teaching them these lessons. Til they submit and learn. Or disappear forever. It's that simple a choice really, isn't it. 

Sign the petition.

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Australia needs an Indigenous Revolution

Picture courtesy of the Art of Melanie Hava

I have always been confused by the two parallel stories of Australia. 

The first story, the one that is entrenched and promoted by our governments, our mass mainstream media, our education system, our popular culture is white. It’s about a bunch of white English guys who sailed over and hey presto! "discovered" this land mass (they weren’t the first white guys by the way, the Dutch were first) and decided to make it theirs by plonking a bunch of convicts and misfits on the land because there was no room in classy old England for them, so here, go to this cruel, harsh land where millions of different creatures can kill you, the weather is unforgiving and you will have to physically toil forever to make the place habitable for your particular English sensibilities. They began to build the modern version of this nation at the expense of something pretty massive. They claimed to be the first, the most important and they still do. Despite what was here before them and what came after. This is the wrong story. 

The second story is the reality. It’s the story we all know to be true. It’s the story of an amazingly vast land mass, inhabited for thousands of years by a people who lived in harmony with the land and its scope; its flora and fauna and with each other. A land of stories and culture, of art, food, medicine, family, dance, song, theatre, costume, custom, law, spirit, conservation, hunting, gathering, mothering, fathering, sistering and brothering; of elder and young, of woman and man and child and aunty and uncle; of love and survival; of birth, life and death. A story that despite every attempt to extinguish it, still lives on strong today. A story surviving despite being denied, ignored, abused, destroyed, manipulated, undercut, cheated, ridiculed and humiliated. Cut to those white guys coming along and they themselves surviving and opening the floodgates to the multitudes of others; of every colour and creed who then contributed to the building of a nation. This is the story that needs to be told.

Despite two hundred odd years of trying to reconcile Australian history, what happens daily in Australia and what is given oxygen in our dominant culture and politics is the first, narrow little pin prick of a story. Aboriginal people are still enduring and resisting racism. The government is still trying to close remote communities, it still tramples all over sacred land and gives preference to mining companies who destroy it. This despite what Aboriginal people have been screaming at us forever; that their connection to their land is a primary factor in their identity. 

Aboriginal women are still over represented in domestic violence statistics and Aboriginal people are more likely to die in custody. Aboriginal children are still removed from their families at a higher rate than others, especially since the establishment of ridiculously misguided and inhumane intervention policies. There are so many issues that have divorced us as a nation from our Indigenous heritage, but this story is what pissed me off this week and got me thinking about how far behind we still are. 

Uncle Jack Charles is a prominent Aboriginal Australian actor, elder and activist. To anyone with half a clue, he is a well known and highly respected man, who's contributions to our nation are significant. On two separate occasions he was denied a taxi on face value. Whoever was driving decided he was an undesirable passenger, simply because he is Aboriginal. SORRY WHAT? COME AGAIN?

Is that really how much we as a nation have convinced ourselves of the first story? Many people commenting on some of the articles I read online were questioning the ethnicity of the taxi drivers. That old cliche. To be honest, I did too at first, but I corrected myself and so many counter comments had the same objection. I think it is irrelevant too, on reflection. It doesn't matter what the ethnicity of the driver was, discrimination is discrimination. Initially it did cross my mind that some taxi drivers are often recent migrants, but the issue isn't about whether or not they are in a position to discriminate because they are "new Australians", but instead my question is, where are they getting their prejudice from? What is the culture in Australia that portrays our Indigenous people so negatively instead of bestowing on them the recognition and honour they are entitled to? Especially an elder who is Senior Australian of the Year, among other things. How is he not a household name? Why wasn't he recognised? Regardless of his status, why was the reaction of the drivers fear, mistrust and discrimination?

I traveled to New Zealand once. The immersion of Indigenous culture in the mainstream is nothing short of incredible to me, an Australian, but not to them. It is the norm. Everyone learns Maori at school. The language, the culture and the history. The Maori culture is embedded deeply in the psyche of New Zealanders, whether they themselves have Indigenous heritage or not. The North Island in particular was very traditional. It is something you have to experience and it made me sad and ashamed. It was inspiring. You want goosebumps? Watch these students perform the haka for a deceased beloved teacher. It makes me weep. Every. Single. Time. I. Watch. It.

Really look closely at them. Their diversity, their ages, their passion. It isn't something rehearsed for this particular performance. They know it. They have lived it all their lives and were taught it from a very young age. It is a part of who they are. 

During my trip, we stayed at a traditional Maori Marae. The family leaders welcomed us with a traditional ceremony. We participated in cooking meals and cleaning up afterwards. We all slept in the main room on mattresses on the floor in our sleeping bags, surrounded by carvings and pictures of the family ancestors. One night we had a group discussion where the leaders talked to us about their family and their heritage and we were given the opportunity to ask questions at the end. I asked what the difference was. Why were we so far behind in Australia? I understood that the land mass made a difference and also that Aboriginal Australians and New Zealand Maoris were very different people, but how? Why? What could we learn?

My tour guide pointed out that Maoris were warriors. They asserted themselves with their colonisers immediately and signed a treaty with the British very early on. This allowed the country to promote the coexistence of both Indigenous and Colonial cultures. That is not to say that there are no issues in New Zealand, I would hate to diminish the racism or disadvantage that may still exist as a result of colonisation, but they are way ahead of many other countries including ours. In Australia, we still don't have an equivalent to the Waitangi Treaty. However, to say that there was no Aboriginal resistance is grossly incorrect and it is important to acknowledge the frontier warriors who shed their blood in defense of their country and people; and they are still fighting and resisting. The difference is that in Australia we are yet to come anywhere near reconciliation. 

Saying Sorry is a tokenistic first step, definitely a step in the right direction, but Uncle Jack's experience shows that we still have a long way to go. Another example is the recent unnecessary controversy surrounding AFL player Adam Goodes' on field traditional celebration. Oh and please listen closely to the commentators and their bullshit fence sitting. He performed a brief war dance at Carlton fans and the whole nation lost its marbles. Personally it was exhilarating to see and I don't even follow football. Same goes for Greg Inglis when he celebrates his tries with the 'goanna'. It's wonderful!

While addressing the issues surrounding discrimination, we need to admit that Aboriginal heritage has survived and in many aspects of Australian society, it is thriving. We have to keep racism, bad government policy, misinformation and victimisation of Indigenous Australians on our radar and continue to hold perpetrators to account. These people are a threat to our progress.

What we must do is participate and acknowledge our heritage. Our real heritage. Our indigenous heritage, without indulging in cultural appropriation. It is the only way forward.

I am always a bit unsure about what right I have to say these things, after all I am not Aboriginal. I do not have Aboriginal heritage. I am Australian born to Maltese parents and I am connected to this land in my own way through my own lived experience. I see Australia as a diverse and ethnically rich nation of people. To me, to be truly Australian is to have some sort of relationship with all aspects of our identity and first and foremost we must know and understand our Aboriginal tradition. We must accept our colonial past; the good and the bad and appreciate its place in forming our modern nation. We must also appreciate the many other influences that make up our population. The European and Asian contribution, the Middle Eastern and African, the South and North American. What an opportunity we have to be a truly globally represented country. 

Our children should be learning this second truer story from infancy. They need to learn about Aboriginal experience, art, music, language, spirit. They need to learn the true story of colonisation and get both sides of the story - learn about both the experiences of the original custodians and the settlers/invaders. They need to be exposed to all the cultures, religions, languages and life stories of the people who now live, work and build this great land.

Our governments need to work towards an inclusive and representative landscape of ideas, policies and solutions so that true Aboriginal autonomy and self determination is achieved. They need to start undoing the rot they have let fester and promote reconciliation and healing at every opportunity. They need to stop the marginalisation of anybody who isn't white and male and encourage the inclusion of all people who have something to contribute. They need to stop imprisoning refugees; people who are fleeing danger for a better life. IT'S HOW WE ALL GOT HERE!