tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78578168377454374742024-03-21T06:02:52.867-07:00The Black Steam TrainBlack Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-25911605246166800582015-12-06T19:18:00.004-08:002015-12-06T19:18:42.130-08:00Changing Stations<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
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At the beginning of October, I packed up my family and we
made the move ‘home’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The house is fairly new, but the place is old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It has a lot of history, and not all of it is
good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lake Tyers is a former Aboriginal
Reserve, started up in 1861 as a place to keep Aboriginal people separated and
under strict control, but today, is freehold land that was returned in 1971 to
the residents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My paternal Grandfather,
Charlie Carter, was a member of the group of residents who marched with Pastor
Doug Nicholls on Melbourne in protest when the mission was threatened with
closure at the end of the 60’s, and in his role as eventual Chairman of the Committee
they formed, stood and received the deeds when they won their fight and the
Governor General of the day, Rohan Delacombe, formally handed back the land to
the people in a ceremony held just a short walk from where I sit right now.</div>
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On the day, my Grandfather was smiling and happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told the people who gathered to witness
the handover that “we won’t let you down”, and, for a long time, he was good to
his word.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ask any of the residents or
former residents from that day who are still alive what they remember of life
at Lake Tyers before he died, and you will be told that life out here was much,
much better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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My Grandfather was a smart man, a tough man, and a very
determined man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, he didn’t live
for a long time after the land was handed back, but thought he had fought long
enough, hard enough, and won the battle that would mean his children and
grandchildren and the generations that came after them would always have this
place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A piece of security and a home
for eternity, never again to be threatened or taken away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was his dream, and the dream of all the
families who lived here - almost all of whom are related to me today through
blood or marriage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Grandfather was a
man who’d lived with the threat of being forced from the land he knew, that he
was very much a part of, and it was an intolerable position that he wanted to ensure
he protected his family against ever having to worry about. </div>
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<br /></div>
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This was done in two ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>First - the 4,000 acres went into a Trust, with shares given to every
Man, Woman and Child who was a resident at the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My Grandfather received shares, as did all
his children and so did many other members of my extended family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Second – there were rules put in place around
ownership and transfer of these shares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unlike NAB shares or BHP shares, they couldn’t be sold for money or any
other kind of consideration, and those who had shares had strict limitations on
who they could give their shares to. Only the original residents and
shareholders or their bloodline descendants were eligible to receive them, a
simple rule that meant it would always pass down to the rightful heirs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wasn’t born until two years after this all
happened, so did not receive any shares from this initial handout myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A little over a decade ago though, my Aunt,
who had received shares in the initial handout as a child in 1971, decided to
transfer almost all of her shares to those of us in my generation, and as a
result, I was the recipient of 100 of her shares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or so I thought.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The day I signed the lease for my property, I was also
hoping to sign some paperwork to accept the nominations I had received and take
a place on the Committee here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Enter the
first stumbling block.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After my
paperwork was examined by a man from the Koori Justice Department purporting to hold authority on these matters,
I was informed that the Land Council had ruled that the year of my share transfer
(2003) deemed me ineligible and as such I was not a shareholder as I thought, and
therefore could not take a Committee position. I am not the first, as story
after story has been recounted to me by relatives, given the same spiel when
they try to assert their rights, yet the Share Register is full of names that
don’t belong and people that should never be eligible to hold shares.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> There is no avenue of appeal offered for the decisions that have been made, and no opportunity for those who have been excluded to prove their rightful title to this land today.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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So even with just two simple rules, and basic principles to
underpin them, it all fell apart in less than 40 years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We may not be able to sell the land, but that
is not the only way to make a dollar out of a place like this.</div>
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<br /></div>
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4,000 acres is a lot of land, and not everyone can resist
temptation. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whitefellas and blackfellas
alike are both susceptible to greed, and self-determination took a huge step
back when the Government had to step in and take charge after one Chairman was
caught with his hand in the till – years after they had received information
about his misdeeds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps they didn’t
want to go in heavy handed and create another ‘wasted Aboriginal money scandal’
that they could ill afford at the time, perhaps they didn’t want to seem like
they were meddling – whatever the reason for their delay, the end result of
their apathy was a greater sum of taxpayer money lost ensuring that when action
was taken, it was more severe and far-reaching in the lives of those people who
were left behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The benefactor of the
fraud was banished and no longer allowed to reside here, but the rest of the
residents – who received no benefit from his actions nor had any power or
control in the community to make the decisions – had to live with the daily
consequences of his actions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
Government stepped in and took power, appointing various people over the more
than decade of their rule here to run the day-to-day affairs of the Trust and
promised solutions if given power, money and control over an extended period of
time to get it done.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The media releases will tell you that the Government has
poured money and effort into this place – millions of it in fact.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A ’10 year Renewal Project’ that was supposed
to help improve the place and, as a priority, they would train the people to
eventually take over and run this place themselves and attain
‘Self-Determination’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, the 10
years has ended, and things are not much better than they were a decade ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There will be no outcry at the waste of
taxpayer money this time though, it was not stolen by a greedy black man but
instead funnelled by stealth into wasted programs that provided not hope and
change to the people here, but proved useful instead as a means to give
kickbacks to the salaried army of contractors and bureaucrats who learnt to
make the various schemes work for them instead.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since coming ‘home’, I’ve seen the real face of racism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not a foul-mouthed or ill-behaved child
at a football match - <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as some would lead
you to believe, but instead, it’s the disenfranchisement of a whole group of
people based on their race, location and history - who have less education,
less money and less support than their detractors.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I now see it all day, every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the police officer who attended here and,
instead of taking the complaint from the victim who was doused in petrol as I
thought he would, gave advice consisting of “wash your clothes and forget about
it” before leaving – to the graffiti some filth sprayed on our bus stop the
other day that read ‘fucking coons’ – they never let you forget what you are
living out here. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We’re probably not what you’d imagine when you’d think of a
remote Aboriginal community, but we are in many ways very isolated. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The term the Government folk were using at one
point was ‘discrete community’ – though it hardly seems appropriate. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The closest well-populated town with services
like supermarkets and a police station is Lakes Entrance, about a half an hours
drive each way, or you can take the 17 kilometre drive to the closest general
store - if you don’t mind paying $5 a loaf for your bread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I use the word drive because that is your only
option out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no public transport
within about 15 kilometres, the distance from the residential area of Lake
Tyers out to the nearest bus stop (a limited service Vline route), with a State Park surrounding you and only
the one road in and out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There once was a community owned bus or two here that took
residents out regularly that either couldn’t drive, didn’t have a license, or
couldn’t afford a car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like the Cattle
Enterprise though, you’re not allowed to ask about what happened to them, or
where the money went from the sale of those assets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> There is no transparency, no accountability, and for now, that suits the status quo. If the books were ever opened on this place, I assure you there would be scandal after scandal revealed and waste of taxpayer money in the millions. If you set foot out here you'll see the beneficiaries are not the Aboriginal people who will be blamed and suffer the consequences when the losses are finally tallied, but instead, the real winners are the army of salaried contractors and government employees who drive in and out of here on weekdays and rely on this place not improving as their means of financial stability for themselves long term.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I don’t know what will become of this blog, or of my future
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As far as the blog goes, I have very
limited internet access for now, but my wish is to write more and post it up
when I can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only because people need
to know what is going on in places like this, but also in the hope that by
speaking up, some questions just might get asked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com75tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-75838910984712897862015-09-13T18:19:00.000-07:002015-09-13T18:19:55.224-07:00Blacks in Whites
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">With ‘Racism in Sport’ being discussed to death in the media
of late, I was kind of hoping that we’d move past the constant AFL bashing, and
eventually, someone would notice or mention the blatant racism of Cricket
Australia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While we have the AFL almost
setting the example to be followed when it comes to inclusion and recognising
talent from all walks of life, we continue to have the least diverse
representation of our population in our cricket team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A lack of blacks in whites if you like, which
has gone almost completely unnoticed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">You’d be forgiven for thinking Aboriginal people aren’t
interested in cricket, or lack the skills or motivation necessary to play. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You might even believe that we all prefer to
play AFL or NRL, considering how saturated most teams are with Aboriginal
talent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The reality is that we’re just
like other Aussies, we’re capable of playing and loving a wide variety of
sports.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problem is, not all of those
sports tend to love us back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was only a young fella, about seven years of age or so,
when I started to play cricket. I fell in love with the game pretty quickly,
and for many of my childhood years, a big chunk of my life revolved around
games, practice, and our local club – Johnson Park Cricket Club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was like a family, and we were made to
feel very much a part of it. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mum and Dad
(or Mr & Mrs C as they were known at the club) were regular fixtures, and
while Mum would keep scores, Dad would throw himself into coaching and working
with us all. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During the season, Saturday
mornings revolved around our games and twice a week, training.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not only was there my older brother Clintin
and myself, but another brother – Johnno – all played for the same club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although Johnno was a year older than Clint,
he played in my team, a decision that seemed to work best as Johnno is
profoundly deaf, and I was the only one of the players who knew all the hand
signals and could partner with him at first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Johnson Park didn’t care if you were black, or deaf, or deaf
and black.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They just liked helping kids learn
to love cricket and play it as well as they could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were encouraging, and supportive, but
they were just a local club.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Outside the
safety of our small, family oriented club, was the competitive world of ‘Cricket’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Representative teams where selectors watched
you play, in the chance you might get to play for your State, and if you’re really
special, maybe even make the Australian team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For many years, we stayed happy in our little bubble, playing in our
local competition and venturing no further, but all the while entertaining
bigger dreams – like the fantasy of one day playing for our country. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Unfortunately, an invitation for my brother Clint to join a
competitive team and start moving up the cricket ladder would end up being the
start down a road that would show us the ugly side of Australian Cricket,
rather than the first steps towards realising a dream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Clint was a freakishly talented sportsman who could excel at
any game he applied himself to, and cricket was no exception.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he was invited to play District Cricket for
Ringwood, we were exposed for the first time to selection matches, and the
notion that people would watch the game and choose the most talented players,
based on the skills they could show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
was sure that my brother would impress the socks off any selector, but after
moving up to a place where he could be picked, it seemed that it was taking a
long time for his abilities to be noticed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">For a long time, we expected that good news would come
imminently.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The day when a letter might
arrive in the post with an invitation for him to join a training camp, a new
club – anything really, seemed just around the corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The offers and invitations never did come
though, and if not for one fateful afternoon, we’d probably have kept wondering
and waiting for a lot longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Clint was 16, still playing for Ringwood District, when they
held a special round robin of matches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was designed to be attended by as many selectors as possible, hoping
to catch the next big up-and-coming talent or find the next Don Bradman so they
could be snapped up early.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no
doubting that Clint was having an absolute blinder that particular day, and we
watched on as he took wicket after wicket, then moved on to bat impressively
and even have a successful turn as keeper. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It came then as no big surprise when, after
the last game, I looked over to see one of the selectors pulling Dad aside to
speak to him at great length. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A few minutes later, he returned to where we were packing up
our things and readying ourselves to go home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He wasn’t smiling and celebrating, but instead, he looked dumbfounded. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the car ride home, at the first moment of
silence, Mum asked Dad what the selector had told him, and he didn’t hold
back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“He said he was good, but he’s not
getting a place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have quotas, and
they have to pick kids that will fit in well with the private schools, and he
won’t fit in with them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t say
why exactly, just that he should try out for the Aboriginal team instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I told him ‘my son wants to play for
Australia’ and he just told me flat out ‘that will never happen’ and I just
walked away before I punched him or did something really stupid”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That was the last weekend we played cricket.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At ages 16 and 13, both Clint and I put down
our bat and ball and went home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
explained to my teammates and my friends that my ankles were in bad shape, and
this was the reason I would no longer play, but the truth was that watching my
brother get shot down had sucked all the love for the game out of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just didn’t want to play anymore, it felt
like a giant waste of my time because I would always be a blackfella in whites –
something the wider world of cricket seemed not to want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I still loved the club, and the people there,
but they were just a small cog in a much bigger wheel, with no ability to
change the status quo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I felt badly at
first that not only was I lying to them by faking an injury, but by leaving the
team I would also be letting them down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That guilt was quickly forgotten though in the weeks and months that
would follow as I watched the effect that the rejection had upon my brother. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I saw his horrific descent first-hand, as the
one element of society who would accept him with open arms and saw his skin as
a sign of strength, and not weakness, became his new circle of friends and what
seemed to him the only prospects for a better life and respect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Within a year, Clint had left home in a memorable blaze of
police lights and sirens, and as a completely different person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I eventually stopped wondering ‘what if?’, a few years later.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I started watching the cricket again and
began to just enjoy it for the great game that it is, rather than focussing
anger or rage at one of the things that I greatly considered to have
contributed to my brother turning his back on the world. Eventually, I got to
the point where I could forget the past, and months would go by before I would
remember I’d even played cricket myself, let alone my brother. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was achieved because I had reached the
point of apathy and adulthood at about the same time, not to mention the more
important fact – I’d also added a third ‘A’ word to my daily life by now –
alcohol.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It dulled all the pain they
couldn’t provide a prescription for if you went to the doctor, and the world
always seemed a better place once I had a few under my belt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Almost a decade after hanging up the pads and forgetting the
past, I was working as a car detailer for South Melbourne BMW - at their new site
shortly after the Burnley Tunnel was built - finishing off the interior of a
car that had come in for repairs a few days earlier, when the Manager walked in
with Shane Warne.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The car I was working
on just happened to belong to his then-wife, and he had come to pick it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I quickened my pace - not only were we told
that the clients aren’t expected to wait for us, but celebrity clients get what
they want when they want it - but instead of being asked how much longer it was
going to take, my boss interrupted me only to ask me to come over to where he
was standing, Shane Warne still by his side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I had a pretty good boss, and I assumed he wanted me to get
to ‘meet’ someone famous, so I walked over and rather than the introduction I
expected, it was Shane Warne who spoke first, eagerly asking “Do you remember
me?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was always getting mistaken for
my older brother, and this time was no exception.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clint had played in the same division as
Shane Warne back in his district cricket days, and most of those who played
with him or against him ended up remembering him for one reason or another.
When I told Shane that it was actually my older brother he had played against, he
immediately began to recount a story of playing against him and almost having
his head taken off with a ball when he was batting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was clear that Clint had skills that had
left an impression on him, as he then turned to me to ask the big question, “Geez,
what happened to him?”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It was asked with high expectations, not low ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The tone not of disdain, but one of great
anticipation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure I could have told
him some wonderful stories, except they’d have been lies.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, I told him as much of the truth as
my sense of shame would allow me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the
end, just four words, “Oh, he’s down home.” It pretty much ended the
conversation right then and there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
didn’t want to elaborate, or fill in gaps, and to his credit, he didn’t push
further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe he put two and two
together and realised that I wouldn’t be standing in front of him wearing
overalls and cleaning his car if my brother was a rich and famous sportsman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know the thought crossed my mind more than
once as I stood there, and from the look on his face after a few minutes of
silence, perhaps it had now crossed his.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I went back and finished the car, before returning home on
public transport to my rented two bedroom flat that I shared with a
dysfunctional couple with drug issues. I drank a lot that night, wanting the
greyness of no memories rather than the anger I felt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wanted to black out my reality, and I
especially wanted to stop wondering what could have been.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A man who’d managed to achieve everything my
brother and I never would, walked into my life and for the first time in years
I was forced to confront that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just
didn’t want to.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If conditions were the same, and we were allowed a ‘do-over’
in life, I’d never have bothered to pick up a bat or a ball. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like a girlfriend you wished you never met,
avoiding the drama completely is preferable in my book.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve seen nothing change in my lifetime, and
I doubt I’ll live long enough to ever see the elusive image I once dreamed of
as a young kid - a blackfella in whites on an Australian team.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve had just two men play at the level of
Test cricket who claim Aboriginal ancestry, but unless I told you who they
were, you probably wouldn’t be able to pick it (and before you guess ‘Andrew
Symonds’ – don’t, he is not Aboriginal). <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a time when
I wanted to play for Australia, and although I have no doubt that if my brother
had taken the selectors advice and tried out for the ‘Aboriginal Cricket Team’
(or whatever PC name they call it these days), he’d have been picked in a
heartbeat - it is more complex than that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Clint was not just the best blackfella cricketer, he was a great
cricketer, full stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could have held
his own against anyone in Australia in his prime, but his potential and talent
were discarded and unwanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being told
he’d never get the chance to prove his ability at the highest level, not
because he wasn’t skilled enough, but for something he had no control over,
makes me wonder how many promising young dark-skinned kids have been passed
over in the years since.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 8pt;">
<o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-78269442214639261612015-08-03T23:56:00.000-07:002015-08-03T23:56:16.506-07:00Stolen?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I will admit that I cringe when I hear the words “Stolen
Generations”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It makes me uncomfortable,
because like most of the issues surrounding Aboriginal affairs, what I have to
say will affect those who are close to me, and not always in a positive way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Offence can be taken in just a few words, and
although I am loathe to cause any harm to those I love, it has become a choice
between a moment of possible offence, vs a much greater harm and problem we
need to face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Unlike most of the topics
that come up with regard to what we should be ashamed about when it comes to
Aboriginal affairs – domestic violence, drug or alcohol addiction,
imprisonment, poverty, racism, homelessness – I don’t know anybody that
qualifies as ‘stolen’, nor am I related to anybody who is, yet I am familiar
with the term, and know people that use it to describe their own situations.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For anybody who wonders, I want to clarify my understanding
of the term ‘stolen generation’ for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The “Stolen Generation”, in simplified terms, refers to a policy of
removals of Aboriginal and part-Aboriginal children from their families and
cultures, to be raised in white society as a means of eventually ‘breeding out
the Aboriginal’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first, it was
claimed to be a ‘White Australia’ policy, but then after the public failure of
several court cases, justification for the claim – despite the lack of legal
success to back it up – came by widening the narrative a little more, to
explain how a law that did not exist was actually a secret conspiracy to
falsify tales of neglect, and carry out their diabolical plan with the full
support of the legal system instead. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As those who have read my blog before would know, I was raised
in foster care, by parents who were not Aboriginal and had white skin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was not stolen, but instead I was given
with open arms by some of my relatives to the Mum and Dad who raised me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They raised lots of foster kids, some who
even had a non-Aboriginal parent and were much lighter-skinned, but they stole
none of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, the phone would
normally ring, often in the middle of the night, with a desperate parent on one
end begging for Mums help and the next day we would have a new family
member.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes for a week, other
times a few months, sometimes years.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Where the ‘stolen generations’ story becomes a dangerous
narrative, is when you have those who use its inability to be debated, due to
the highly sensitive matter of the subject, as a means to gain sympathy for
those people who should otherwise be encouraged to get help and face the demons
of their past.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From my own personal
experience, of those who have claimed to be stolen, but instead are easing
their need for sympathy for their suffering with a label instead, going along
for the ride is not a positive experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While the label might earn you quiet respect, and immediately paralyse
most people into asking no questions and instead letting you share as much or
as little as you like about your background, the longer you avoid your real
story – whether that be in order not to have to face some hard truths, or ask
some harder questions of yourself – things aren’t going to get better for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having a name for your pain means nothing if
it’s a misdiagnosis.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I cannot imagine how difficult it would be to have been
completely abandoned, but I do know what it is like to be denied parts of your
history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My biological mother chose to
share little of herself and her history, leaving me with gaps that I have spent
years trying to fill - but am yet to feel like I’ve succeeded at accomplishing.
I’ve walked arm in arm with my biological sister as she made her first tentative
returns to Lake Tyers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know how
frightened she was of being accepted, and we sat for many nights where I repeatedly
reassured her not to be afraid, that so many people could not wait to see her
and just wanted her in their presence again, but until she had seen it for
herself, her apprehension could not be eased by my words alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know this because I feel this way about going
to Wallaga Lake - where my mothers family are from – and where I have been only
as a very small child.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This is the downside to Adoption and Foster Care for some
kids, regardless of skin colour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Reconnecting can be difficult, heartbreaking, or wonderful – there is
just no guarantee of which outcome you’re going to get, and the fear of
rejection can be so overwhelming for some that it takes them years to even
try.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the biological parent passes
away before the answers can be had, it is a horrible emptiness<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and regret that cannot be undone, and makes
the journey to find resolve seem that much more difficult and insurmountable. We should provide support and counselling to any people who
are affected by these issues, rather than funding a label or narrative that is
failing to deal with the deeper issues that are underlying these claims. </div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Blaming the white man, or the government for
taking your kids away is easier for some of my relatives because they can be
supported by others for being a victim, yet I am starting to realise that this
is having a terrible cost to the younger generations, as they fall prey to the
same answer of covering the pain and suffering we won’t or don’t talk about and
resolve with honesty, by easing their confusion or emptiness with alcohol or
drugs. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve done ourselves no favours
by trading our need for sympathy for that sense of loss or displacement by
letting people class us with a label that will explain away our sadness or
dysfunction or failures, to avoid talking about the things that are painful and
causing us to repeat that pattern again and again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The problem is, that sympathy is based on a
lie, and the real sympathy, understanding and help they need never comes
because the trade off for that comfort of a label that explains all your ills
without having to look deeper is the eventual realisation that the questions
never go away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Parents who surrender their children face a suffering all
their own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since becoming a father
myself, I am more in awe of what my biological father did for me, and am thankful
that he didn’t pass away before I got to tell him just how much I appreciated
how hard it must have been for him to give us away to give us a better life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope never to be in a situation where my
life has spun out of control to the point where I have to hand my children to
someone more stable than myself to care for them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if I had to, I would.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love them too much to have them suffer
along with me when there are options for a better life for them.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I would not be surprised to learn that my biological mother
would have considered us ‘stolen’ from her at some point in her life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From where she stood, it would have seemed
the most adequate description of what she was going through during that time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She did not get a say in where we lived, in
fact, was quite vocally opposed in the few small encounters we had during my
childhood, and we grew up without a connection to her heritage and
culture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can only hope that she didn’t
go along with the narrative though, because it wouldn’t be true, and it wouldn’t
have allowed the real culprits for her suffering to wear the blame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Who were those culprits?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not a secret conspiracy, but instead a culture that valued the opinions of
one family over another, over those of the woman who gave birth to us and held
us in our arms when we arrived into the world - when it came to making decisions
about their children. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A society that was
less tolerant, less understanding, and less welcoming of Aboriginal people back
then, that resulted in her isolation and allowed her own prejudices against
white people to be forever formed and one day drive a wedge between us and
cause our estrangement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was painful
for her, and it must have been awful, and I have no doubt that her suffering
led to her struggles with alcohol.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What
I can’t make excuses for anymore, is that for decades her choice to slowly kill
herself with grog was allowed to go unchecked and unchallenged, excused by
those who wanted to ease her suffering with an easy answer that seemed to make
her happy but ultimately, didn’t help her into anything more than an early
grave.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Heavy drinking devastated her
life, and resulted in her enduring her final years spent missing a limb and
pushed from place to place in a wheelchair as a result of the diabetes that
ravaged her body.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It could have been
different, and if we don’t focus on making sure it isn’t for those who are
still with us and suffering, then we’re going to continue the cycle of broken
hearts, misplaced hate, and never moving forward and closing the gaps that
count.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am also sad that my father didn’t get the help he
needed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those who did encourage him to
do so were shouted down and often ignored, as others around him enabled him and
made excuses for him too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They should
have to wear some of the guilt and regret that he felt , for they helped to
directly cause it by their actions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sad
stories don’t need a blame narrative, they need to be dissected, understood and
the right help found for the people who are suffering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I apologise for all the times I have stood silent and let
the narrative go unchallenged in my own circles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve helped nobody by standing by and letting
people focus on finding someone to blame, rather than healing and moving
forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com66tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-62552198598586464982015-07-29T02:02:00.000-07:002015-07-29T02:02:35.567-07:00The Wayland Smithers School of Journalism<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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The jeering was loud.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Almost deafening in its unison - as hundreds of voices simultaneously
uttered a long, slow “Boooooo” at the defiant man who stood before them from
his position of power and privilege.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
crowd refused to be silenced, their eyes fixed on him in an angry glare that
reinforced the hatred coming from their mouths, the mocking tone of their cries
reaching a crescendo that seemed to confuse their target, before his trusted advisor
could intervene.<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“They’re not saying ‘Boo’, they’re saying “Boo-urns”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just as Wayland Smithers protected Montgomery Burns in The Simpsons,
sections of our media, together with the hierarchy of the unnecessary at the
AFL, are now lying to protect Adam Goodes in much the same way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“They’re not booing you Adam, they’re just
displaying their deep seated racism the only way they can”, or in
Smithers-speak, “They’re not saying Boo, they’re saying “Boo-oong!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Of course, we have the regular roster of apologists come
out, shaming the country and our society for cutting down a sports star who
happens to have Aboriginal blood as part of his racial make-up. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The caring, informed and sensitive city
dwellers who, despite their alabaster skin tone and lack of racial diversity,
can not only see, smell and hear racism, but tragically, are so deeply affected
by it that they feel they must differentiate themselves from the white person
next to them by pointing at them and screaming racist long enough and loud
enough that somehow, somewhere in the midst of all their righteous shouting, their
own skin tone will be forgotten or ignored.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
One thing I’ve come to understand about our society is that
often, those who see themselves as the most tolerant, educated and enlightened
are usually most racist, close-minded of all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>These types were the first to pick up their keyboard or a microphone and
declare that speaking negatively about the so-called ‘war dance’ effort from
Adam Goodes over the weekend means that we are culturally ignorant, yet in making
such a claim, have themselves ignored an entire segment of the Aboriginal
community, who are appalled at the ‘performance’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In wanting us to be a homogenous community
capable of only thinking and feeling one way, therefore enabling them to have
the correct information and be ‘right’, they are guilty of the same crime they
are continually accusing an entire nation of – RACISM.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The fact is, some Aboriginal people, myself included, saw
that embarrassing display and did not feel pride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead, we felt shame, and a sense of
sadness and loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of this stems
from seeing yet more of our traditions mocked and traded upon, invented and
earning overnight acclaim, for little more than cheap thrills while the long
standing traditions are ignored, left to die quietly and uncelebrated until
they are forgotten and lost forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of this comes from the fact we're tired of the theatrics, and how his need for attention will play out for the rest of us, and creep a little into our own lives. For
an urban blackfella like me, I hate the fact that all of a sudden my opinion is
relevant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I haven’t written a blog post
in almost a year, or bothered to watch free to air television in even longer, yet
received two messages on my phone today – one from SBS and the other from 2GB,
wanting to know what I think about the whole Goodes drama and depending on what I think, whether they want to hear from me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They aren’t the only ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Friends, acquaintances and even the random
guy standing next to me in line at the supermarket suddenly wants to hear what
I have to say, but only on this one topic, just for now. The easiest way to get rid of them is to gauge their personal feelings, then just agree with them. If someone is genuinely looking for a discussion, they are easy to tell, but most people just want me to be the token black who validates their own feelings on the matter.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Views like mine, that are contrary to the representations
being made by the rabid, name-calling media, are ignored or rejected by all
those who simply want to brand every incident or comment with an ‘ism’, because
the object of their outrage is never to stimulate an educated debate or a
discussion, but rather they wish to simply stand on their given podium and
recite their narcissistic lecture, a pointless exercise for them to reinforce
their followers that they alone are a bastion of cultural relevance,
understanding and compassion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, theses
‘enlightened’ folks also tend to take their cues on history from the most
removed people of a culture, merely because they tend to occupy the cubicle or
apartment next to them, or speak with the most authoritarian voice or sense of
victimhood – a sure sign that they must know what they are on about, according
to our current high standards of journalism in this country – instead of
seeking the truth and looking for those with knowledge that comes from a life of lived tradition, rather than being well removed from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I used to dance as a kid.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Most of the kids who grew up in our house did it, but I have no intention
of my own children doing the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My reluctance
has nothing to do with them being of mixed heritage though, and everything to do
with cultural appropriation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said I
used to ‘dance’ as a kid, because that is really all it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was dressed in a lap-lap and painted up,
was taught the moves the rest of the kids were doing, but it was all just a
show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dances were not ones passed on to us
from our Elders, performed for a specific reason or during a time of unique and special celebration that led me to understand my culture in a meaningful way, but rather a collection of dance moves put together by a choreographer who may or may not have had a
distant Aboriginal ancestor she found out about in her mid-thirties.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few documentaries and books from the
library later, she had all the cultural awareness she felt she needed, and as a
bunch of children not yet trusted with much knowledge, we didn’t know any
better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We danced for smiling crowds of
educated, enlightened people who clapped politely while murmuring “Oh, how <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">cultural</i>”, as they watched us
enraptured.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would smile back at them and
dance harder, oblivious to what I was doing and simply happy to receive
positive praise and attention from a crowd of people I didn’t even know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I was no better than a performing monkey
to them, and for all their education and compassion, those crowds were the most
racist people of all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Their wisdom and
understanding of Aboriginal people and culture was a passing fetish, and in an
effort to appease them, I was walking all over my own culture for their
amusement, all of us completely ignorant to this heartbreaking fact.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After becoming a man, I learned better.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I learned that our chants, and our dances are
sacred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are powerful and special
secrets, not entertainment for the masses or political statements designed to
make sure you get yet another mention in the nightly news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also took it to heart that the title of ‘Warrior’
is like respect.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is always earned,
not merely given because of the colour of your skin or your heritage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am proud to say that some of my own
ancestors include great Warriors - men who fought and died to protect their
families and their way of life, and faced enormous battles that I could never
fully comprehend from where I sit today, in a relative position of privilege by
comparison, however you look at the statistics and facts. It would make a
mockery of the suffering and heroism of my ancestors to assign a title of great
reverence and historical significance, such as ‘Warrior’, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to a person whose fame and heroism is derived
from little more than the ability to show up a few weekends a year and kick a
leather ball around an overly groomed piece of paddock. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As Adam walks out for his next game, before making his way
onto that perfectly manicured stadium lawn, I suggest he take a deep, slow
breath and reflect upon the reality of his life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rather than having to emerge from the sheds
for the ‘coloured people’, kept separate from the white folks playing beside
him, he will run out after being supported by his entire team, not kept to the
back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When he is thirsty, he doesn’t have
to take a drink at the appropriately labelled drinking fountain, set aside for
only folks with his racial identity, but rather will be served like a prince,
with a special servant whose only job is to provide refreshments for the
thirsty players, regardless of their skin colour or heritage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As he drives his brand new sports car to
training, where he looks around at the other players arriving in their equally
expensive vehicles and stops to realise he is paid just as much as them, if not
more, he should perhaps pause a moment and wonder about whether he is fighting
a war that has already been won, and instead of complaining from his position
at the top, realise how those on the bottom rungs might be sick of hearing him
whinging and would much rather he just got on with life. <br />
</div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com187tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-62531379227148142442014-08-21T06:44:00.000-07:002014-08-21T06:44:02.978-07:0018c – a win for Sally Sensitive<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Sadly, it looks like 18c is not going to be done away with
in a hurry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a shame, because making
a crime out of causing offence to someone is an utterly ridiculous burden upon
free speech and debate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It does nothing
to stop racism, or give justice to someone who is actually caused a harm based
on their race, religion or anything else, but we’ve been told that getting rid
of 18c will open the floodgates for all these things to become commonplace, or
worse, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">normalised</i>. </div>
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<br /></div>
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The reality is, we have other laws that cover those crimes
more than adequately, so it is hardly like the push for removing 18c was led by
the frustrated local KKK ‘Grand Wizard’, who had until then, gone largely
unnoticed in our community (burning his crosses and preaching his hate in
private, as 18c was the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">only</b> thing
keeping him at bay apparently!).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
push to repeal 18c had supporters who weren’t asking for the ‘freedom to be
bigots’ (wow, was that ever a bad choice of words), but rather the right to
speak freely without fear of being taken to court for causing hurt feelings,
offence or insult to a person. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead
of a society that embraces vigorous, free and open discussion on all topics as
a means to progress to better understanding, by holding onto 18c we’re
announcing ourselves as a nation that needs to control and monitor debate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not because the topic of debate is unnecessary, but rather because some of the freely spoken words might upset some
of the participants.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To placate the perpetually offended minority, we’ve got to wear
a huge cost as a population.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Others have
a more public and personal suffering though, like Mike Carlton.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I might not read much of what he has to say,
but he has just as much a right as I, or anyone else, to voice an opinion. We
aren’t forced to read it, nor are we forced to agree with it or support
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may have offended you, or someone
you know, but there were also those who saw it and agreed with the sentiment it
was expressing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Therefore, we have a bit
of an issue - we clearly have at least two sides to consider, so how does it
benefit us, or allow us understanding of the whole problem, if one side is
silenced?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m sure plenty more
convictions could be had if we only ever allowed juries to hear the prosecution
evidence in a criminal case, and debates would be easy to decide if only one
side was allowed to present their argument.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Part of the problem with repealing 18c is that fear sells,
and fear motivates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were told that a
future without 18c was a future to be feared, and it was sold with a
catch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you support the repeal of 18c,
you’re a ‘racist’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People always feel
far more assured when there is a clear right and wrong side to an argument,
especially if it involves a touchy subject, so when ‘supporters of the repeal
of 18c’ was equated continually with ‘racist’, or ‘bigot’, the choice was
highlighted as having a clear ‘morally right’ and ‘morally wrong’ option – and
as an added bonus, it didn’t even ask you to think too hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Racists and bigots = bad, therefore, repeal
of 18c must be bad, because it is supported by bad people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If racists and bigots are behind the push for
something, don’t think too much, just decry it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For a country so smart, we allowed ourselves to be drawn into a debate
based more on emotion than intellect, reason or understanding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Perhaps we need a slogan, or a label, to use when referring
to the supporters of 18c.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But what one
word shortcoming or slur best describes someone who believes emotions should be
so highly valued that we legislate to protect against anyone making us feel the
bad ones? Hmmm, how does ‘hysterical’ sound?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Or ‘unbalanced’?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doesn’t quite
have the same ring as ‘racist’, or the negative connotations to surround it,
does it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maybe that is because it is one
of the things that unites us as human beings - our ability to have emotions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We fear them, embrace them, and try to control
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t want to be punished for
having them, but also have an instinct to protect them. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without them, we would be just a mess of flesh
and electrical impulses, and life would be pointless, but allowing them to rule
us, control us, or form the basis for the decisions we make – is madness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we give in to emotion, we tend to
compromise our values, which should be far more important when we choose which
laws we want to govern our lives and form the basis for the behaviour we expect
from the society we live in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Minority groups do not have to fear a repeal of 18c.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The worst harms that can be done to anyone in
a minority group in Australia are something every Australian is protected
from.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want to be denied a job, a
house, or places at schools for my children based on my race.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>18c doesn’t protect me from this, but Anti-Discrimination
laws do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If my face is plastered on the internet, along with untrue
claims about my character or lifestyle, raised only because of my race or
perceived religion (for the record, I don’t have one), then our Defamation laws
are in place to afford me protection from this, not 18c.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If I am injured in an assault, that occurs because a gang of
thugs decided to attack me only because of my race, then Criminal laws are available
to have them charged and the appropriate punishment given.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If a new family moves in next door, and started to
repeatedly insult and offend me, by making racial insults about me in public,
in front of my kids or friends, I could seek an AVO against them if attempting
to befriend them first and ‘enlighten’ them from their racism a more productive
way continued to fail and I felt threatened or bullied by their behaviour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it was bad enough, perhaps even
Vilification laws would cover their behaviour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Either way, in a situation like this, 18c is again not going to give me
the protection or assistance I require.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
18c can be used, however, to remove some of my
freedoms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot guarantee that the
words I write will not offend or insult someone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I cannot control how other people construe or
choose to interpret my words, and I write about topics that can cause heated
discussion from time to time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I shouldn’t be denied the right to express
myself freely through reasoned opinions, just because they may stir an emotion in
another, nor should anyone else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is
a standard we will all eventually fail, and not through malice, or with the
express intent of causing harm, but because we’re yet to agree on everything,
and something is bound upset someone, somewhere, at some time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re 26+ million diverse people after all.</div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-19233109061192892762014-08-05T23:15:00.000-07:002014-08-05T23:15:12.105-07:00Anyone for Coffee?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Aboriginality, apparently, can be equated to a popular
beverage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the analogy currently doing the traps is disingenuous.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A lot of the rhetoric like this is, but if
you dig a little deeper on most of what is spouted, you may find that rather
that support the claims of the offended, they only illustrate the opposite.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, let’s take one of my personal favourites on a spin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old ‘Cup of Coffee’ analogy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It usually goes something like this:-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“You aren’t really Aboriginal, you look White?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I am too Aboriginal.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s like Coffee, you don’t stop calling it Coffee just because you put
some Milk in it!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sounds dandy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it’s
bullshit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And here is why they use the
analogy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is simple, short and invites
you not to think.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A puzzling conundrum seemingly
solved by a pearl of wisdom passed down over time should ring alarm bells to any
thinking person, but in an age where we discourage enquiring and questioning
minds, it seems such platitudes are happily accepted as intellectual fact
without any scrutiny.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Does the Coffee analogy meet the standard?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It lazily skips over current and past knowledge to achieve a result that
was desired and forced from the outset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It also fails the ‘word replacement’ test.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a test I made up myself, but anyone
can use it. All you do is take the comment, place it in its full context and
replace the words in question in the appropriate places to see if it makes as much sense once you’ve got all the facts.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ll do that now for the Coffee analogy:-</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
...............................................................................................</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For tens of thousands of years, there was only Coffee on a
large island.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few hundred years ago,
ships began arriving that contained Milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At first, the Milk did not want to mix with the Coffee, and in the early
years after the arrival of Milk, at one point it was decided that the island
should get rid of Coffee, and switch to Milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Milk became the preferred drink, and sanctions and punishments of all kinds
were placed on Coffee for more than a hundred years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Over time, however, attitudes toward Coffee
began to slowly change.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Far from being
inferior, perhaps Coffee was an equal beverage to Milk?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Milk and Coffee mixing sanctions were removed, and in an
effort to undo the harm that the previous sanctions had placed on Coffee – more
than a hundred years labelled an inferior beverage has to stick – some
preferential treatment was rolled out for Coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite the removal of the sanctions against
it, it was still struggling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sure,
people in the cities were starting to have a little Coffee from time to time,
but they seemed to overwhelmingly reject Coffee alone, opting instead to have a
blend of the two, when allowed to choose for themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coffee became relegated mostly to the poor
areas, and looked down upon despite no longer being legislated as a second
class beverage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Some of the Milk decided to introduce pro-Coffee legislation,
in an effort to help bring about equality between the lagging Coffee and the
outperforming by comparison Milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taxes
that were dutifully collected from all were pooled and Billions allocated to
address the problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The reforms were
passed, and people were given money to drink more Coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coffee needed to be in Universities!
Hospitals! Schools!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Having Coffee around
had to be normalised, if equality could ever hope to be achieved.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At the same time, it was decided that a definition of what Coffee
actually was would need to be decided upon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It seemed an easy task, but there was an outcry from the city dwellers. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were drinking Coffee, and although it was
not without Milk, it contained Coffee, and this should count. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was a history of Coffee and Milk mixing
for some time, and the resultant combination was being just as hard done by as
Coffee alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The pro-Coffee economic
reforms needed to help mixed beverages as well, as they saw themselves as
fundamentally no different from Coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Arguments were put forth that some of the mixed
beverages had a large amount of Coffee as opposed to Milk, and lived in poor
areas where there was mostly just Coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They also experienced discriminatory attitudes as some of the Milk saw
them as ‘tainted’ by Coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A vocal
number of mixed beverages did not see themselves as a mixture of Coffee and Milk,
but rather, Coffee alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Other mixed beverages
did not see themselves as Coffee, but rather Milk, and did not want to be
forced to identify as Coffee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Complicating matters was the Billions of dollars in assistance for
Coffee on the table, and the mixed beverages had support and numbers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mixed beverages, it was decided, would be
considered Coffee, but only if they wanted to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Big companies began to commit to drinking a certain
percentage of Coffee every day, and so did the Government, Hospitals and
Universities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But things still just
weren’t going well for a large percentage of the Coffee, despite all the
investment and legislation and money spent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Coffee when mixed with Milk had found a real niche, and found a far
greater acceptance among the Milk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So accepted
in fact, that the numbers of Coffee that were mixed with Milk outnumbered the Coffee
almost 5 to 1, and were almost commonplace by the turn of the last century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Much of the Coffee noticed this, but the
mixed beverages had more power and sway than them, and had lobbied to be
included and thought of as Coffee the same as them years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most were fond of mixed beverages, so
speaking in a way construed negative to them was something they avoided.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So the Coffee sat and suffered in silence
instead, for a few more years. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Around the same time, a new concept emerged called “Coffee
Snobbery”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Used to describe the
oppression and poor treatment historically and ongoing towards Coffee, very
little of the Milk doubted that Coffee Snobbery did exist. A documented history
of Coffee being seen as inferior on the island supported that fact, together
with horrific examples of injustices done to Coffee over the years, coupled
with the ongoing poor conditions for the Coffee in remote areas where they were
largely grouped and dumped away from the mixed beverage and Milk areas back in
the unenlightened days all supported this notion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Coffee Snobbery was both officially and unofficially
declared a crime.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
A trend began to emerge among the mixed beverage
population.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More and more they claimed
to be the victims of Coffee Snobs, and what constituted Coffee Snobbery became harder
and harder to define.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This all went
largely unnoticed, until some Milk questioned why Coffee statistics were so
poor, and so little money ended up going to help the Coffee it was supposed
to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After doing a little research, the
renegade Milk noticed that Coffee assistance was continually going to mixed
beverages in an extremely uneven flow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The Milk began to question whether the pro-Coffee reforms were
benefitting Coffee at all, and made mention of several instances of pro-Coffee
assistance going to mixed beverages that were indistinguishable from Milk.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This enraged some of the mixed beverages, whose actions had
been largely, up until that point, unnoticed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They felt that the Milk in question had committed a crime against them,
and the Milk was in fact nothing more than a Coffee Snob who was trying to
skirt the laws.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were allowed to be
classed as Coffee, and although they begrudgingly accepted they contained Milk,
they identified themselves as Coffee and should be allowed to benefit from
pro-Coffee reforms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the Milk
continued to question the laws surrounding Coffee definitions, things began to
get ugly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone who made any mention of
the content of Milk in a mixed beverage was threatened with punishment under
the law, and it didn’t take long for a case to be brought before the courts.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It ended up being one of the most divisive cases for the
island in some time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The accused maintained
that he was not a Coffee Snob, but was agitating for change to a system that
was leaving large portions of Coffee without any assistance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A proponent of the “We’re all Beverages, why
can’t we get along” camp, he didn’t deny the problems facing Coffee, but he just
didn’t think they were being helped by the policy of defining mixed beverages
and Coffee as the same. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>It was helping
mixed beverages, but was overwhelmingly unhelpful towards Coffee, who didn’t
have the same access to the benefits of positive reforms as many mixed
beverages did. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Coffee reforms were
doing little to help Coffee, it had become an undisputed fact often lamented about in the media, but a fact few
ever wanted to find a solution for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
was too touchy a subject to go near in any depth, because to do so meant you had to discuss the mixed beverage issue, and that was clearly off-limits. At least for now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
…………..................................................................................</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I wonder if I will ever hear the word ‘Latte’ again and not
have a little chuckle inside after this effort. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
People are free to use whatever analogy they wish to simplify their circumstances and belittle the point of another. I believe, at least for the time being, I am free to continue to call bullshit when they do so. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com43tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-65423439616801705682014-08-05T08:02:00.000-07:002014-08-05T08:02:28.364-07:00Adam Goodes - ensuring racism as a sport<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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We can all learn a lesson or two from Adam Goodes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
What began as an insult thrown by a child during a football
match has turned into an epic saga, drawing in and devouring plenty in its
wake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It didn’t need to be like this,
but apparently over-reacting has spread like the common cold.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Goodes was the first to fall ill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>During a football match, he heard insults
directed at him, one of which was ‘ape’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Able to identify the culprit, he pointed her out and security removed
the girl from her seat and gave her a lecture for a few hours. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The media seized, the family were shamed,
branded and humiliated, and ignorant people everywhere patted themselves on the
back that their vitriolic revenge was justified in the name of stamping out
racism in this country. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When it turned out that the young girl was a Collingwood
supporter, Eddie was next to fall ill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He was immediately outraged and disgusted, telling all who would listen
that he and his club would not tolerate racism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Sadly for Eddie, his ability to moderate a situation that was not yet at
‘code red’ down to a mere ‘whoops’ was either ravaged by the virus or unable to
operate in tandem with any mention of race, and he was jumping on the bandwagon
in full.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The girl was made a pariah, and
Eddie was hailed a friend to black guys everywhere…until of course, he made the
same fundamental human error that the 13 year old girl had made herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly, he was the pariah, and after coming
out against ‘racism’ so strongly, he was left with nowhere to go and worse, he
couldn’t claim to be underage OR unaware as an excuse for his ‘crime’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And just what was the crime?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>To suggest that Adam Goodes might do well to get on board and promote a
musical called ‘King Kong’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In typical
Eddie fashion, he saw a way to make a buck out of a drama.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who else has done more to make apes famous
than Adam Goodes in this country I ask you?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It’s what I would have suggested if Adam Goodes had asked me how to
climb out of the hole he was fast digging for himself at that point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Find the humour in the situation and show
people that despite the controversy, you are not so invested in yourself that
you can’t play any other role than the victim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Save your outrage and hurt feelings for the times when you’ve really,
truly been vilified, rather than when you’re called a name by a kid as a grown
man.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Who knows, if you show other people you are capable of
finding the humour in things, you might not end up feeling so hurt and
victimised yourself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is a lonely
life that only isolates you from others as your constant inability to forgive
minor social transgressions will slowly but surely turn all but the most loyal
from wanting to be a part of your life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’ll
all screw up at some point, everyone does, and the ones you haven’t driven away
by a one-man jury verdict of ‘racist’ will eventually flee when they tire of
your constant need to pick apart their comments like a paranoid crack addict
through garbage.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Was all the hysteria worth it?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a 13 year old girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone who is entitled
to privacy, and to the childhood right of making mistakes and behaving poorly
at times without the entire country knowing their name, transgression, and
labelling them as anything based on a few moments of their behaviour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No
name she called anybody justifies the treatment she received.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those involved in the public shaming of this girl did not take a stand against
racism, they frightened a child repeatedly, and made judgements about her family in
public.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
For what it’s worth, I’ve been called an ape, a monkey (as
well as the more outdoorsy themed ‘porch monkey’) and plenty of other insults
that I could easily say were used as a ‘racial slur’ against me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That does not stop me, however, from referring
to myself these days - as I go through the aging process and attract more grey
hairs - as ‘Silverback’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like monkeys, I’m a hairy bloke, and I
should be free to use whatever nicknames I like for myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I tell my friends to do the same.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of the <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘historical context’ of hurt feelings of
Aboriginal people over the years (the typical argument brought forth when you
suggest ‘ape’ should not be a censored word), but that I’d rather use logic and
reason instead of emotion when it comes to stuff like this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Logic tells me that when I’ve been called a
name, it’s almost always because someone wanted to take a cheap shot and was
angry or frustrated or wanting to appear superior, or some other powerful
emotion that tends to blur our logical thought processes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being that I’m easily identifiable as
Aboriginal, the cheap shot will usually take the form of a racial slur. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For others, it might be based on their weight,
hair colour, appearance, religion, skin colour – it seems as humans we find a
million ways to see differences in one another and separate ourselves according
to those, and it would seem there is nobody who is immune from this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for Adam, well, in the end, I think he got what he really
wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before the game, he spoke of
Nicky Winmar and his now historic stand against racism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a man whose days are numbered at the top
of his game, he really wants to be remembered like Nicky was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He wants a legacy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And as he inches closer to retirement from
football, a job afterwards would be nice – perhaps the victim theatrics were
just his way of auditioning for a job in the Industry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Viewing his performance from that angle, I
give him an A++.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They’re gonna <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">love<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>As for me, I can’t look up to you Adam.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m ashamed of the way a child was used as a pawn to achieve your goal,
and you should be too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com71tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-84594599187522558522014-07-14T13:15:00.000-07:002014-07-14T13:15:07.134-07:00All good scams must endA few years ago, I casually complained to my local YMCA about their 'Indigenous' display. I wanted to let them know that what they had done had the potential to offend people, despite how well-meaning they were obviously trying to be. I expected an answer in the realm of 'we read a history book and that was our inspiration', but was taken aback when instead I was informed that this was the work of a local traditional owner, who oversaw the entire project.<br />
<br />
This was the first whiff I had of Scammers posing as Aborigines right under my own nose. So I started to hunt around, and in my searches, became all too familiar with the name Sonia Murray, aka Scams a'Plenty.<br />
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If you are to believe any of what she says as the truth, she was born to an Aboriginal mother and Scottish father. Not just any Aboriginal mother either, but, one descended from the original owners of some of the best land in Melbourne - <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/national/aborigines-press-on-with-bay-bid-in-court-20090114-7h15.html" target="_blank">Port Phillip</a> to the Dandenongs and then some, according to her sources. Unfortunately, in the 1830's, her ancestors were captured and taken to the Bass Strait, unable to return to their country until a plucky descendant named Sonia, who would make the perilous journey some 170+ years later to stake a claim to what was once rightfully theirs.<br />
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In addition to her exceptional navigational skills, Sonia it appears, has 'the gift' - or is clairaudient, in<a href="http://www.soniaspiritualmedium.com/about-sonia.html" target="_blank"> her words</a>. A healer with the ability to see, hear and speak to spirits, available at an hourly charge ($100 for a phone consult, or if you're a bit cash strapped, $50 for an email) to cleanse you spiritually, like only a native can. If you're feeling lost on your life path, she can contact your spirit guide and ask them for directions as to how you get back on track.<br />
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For a brief period, Sonia also set up shop as a snake oil salesman, sorry, Mutton Bird Oil salesman, via her wildly unsuccessful venture 'Nangana Healing Centre', where she offered goods that she declared to be Traditional Bush Medicine as well as the obligatory selection of overpriced 'arts and crafts' for suckers to purchase. Almost all trace of Nanganas existence is gone from the internet now, but rather than assume that is because she scammed someone and had to shut up shop before people sued, as I'm sure some of you more cynical people will already be thinking, take comfort in the fact that it was probably because of all the other side ventures she had going on that were now demanding more of her time. <br />
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One such venture was Hawkseye Heritage. Far from being a greedy Aborigine, Sonia wanted to ensure that the environment was taken care of properly, and being who she was, self-appointed spokesperson for the Bunurong, decided to start a business that could fill a growing, and luckily for her - lucrative, demand for managing 'Cultural Heritage'. The current boom industry. With her partner<a href="http://www.djibnet.com/photo/koorie/bunurong-land-council-concerned-over-destruction-of-cultural-sites-3522357318.html" target="_blank"> Steve</a> by her side, a didgeridoo playing traditional owner himself who could luckily double as a 'Cultural Heritage Officer' for her fledgling business as well, they set about having their demands met, and demand they did over the years. <br />
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Far away from prying eyes, and subject only to the regulations of a body that is loathe to jump in quickly when an Aboriginal Corporation continually fails to meet compliance, they had a pretty sweet set up. What might appear to most everyone else to be a 'conflict of interest', is almost par for the course in Aboriginal Organisations. The transparency that should exist simply does not, and years can go by with annual reports and financial statements failing to be lodged repeatedly before they call in someone to take a look. By then, it's usually a mess, as it was when the Special Administrator was appointed to Bunurong earlier this year.<br />
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How the 'Cultural Heritage' scam works is quite simple. A local developer wants to get a project off the ground, our laws dictate that he must seek out the local Aboriginal group and get advice on the appropriate people to conduct a 'Cultural Heritage' survey/assessment/report/you-name-it. How it works in this case goes a little like this - Bunurong, the local Aboriginal group, is approached by the prospective developer. Sonia, as Director of Bunurong advises the prospective developer of what work will need to be done, and, hands off the work contract to Hawkseye, the company she owns. Nice little earner if you can get it. In fact, Hawkseye invoiced Bunurong Land Council for a total of $4,955.00 in 'Administration Costs' in a less than 6 week period earlier this year. That is not including the actual payments to the cultural heritage officers who undertake the work, of course.<br />
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With all the cash cows requiring constant milking, and a seat up front on the Gravy Train guaranteed to her, you might be surprised to learn that Scams a'Plenty still felt it necessary to pull off the sickest trick in the Fraudsters book - begging for donations for her sick child. It seems that in addition to her many business ventures, she has also managed to register a charity. A charity that proclaims itself to not only assist Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children, but conduct research into childhood cancers. There is a donations page on the charity website, and searches at www.acnc.gov.au (the Government charity register) confirms it does indeed have registered charity status. Should you decide to donate, it's all tax deductible. Which is probably a good thing- they seem to need lots of donation. Currently, they need help (in the form of money, of course) to take her desperately ill child to a foreign country for treatment. Treatment she herself is unable to afford, due to her loss of employment, which was of course, another cruel blow for the suffering family. Unfortunately her timing was off to anyone who noticed (so far, I'm alone in that camp), for you see at the same time she was crying poor and unemployed, her company, Hawkseye, was receiving the above mentioned almost $5k in 'administration charges'. She also neglected to mention during her shameless begging that she was planning a new business venture - in the form of a cafe/restaurant, and would later negotiate for leased premises in which to operate that venture from. <br />
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I thought long and hard about providing the links to what I firmly believe is a scam charity, but one thing stops me. The freely available information contained at length on the sites about the child in question. The child may or may not have the disease this mother claims cash donations are needed to help fight. Ultimately, that is irrelevant as I refuse to publish information that may identify a child. The mother is scamming people, not the child, and I will ask that anyone who chooses to look into this further and finds out for themselves, that they not publish the information freely. <br />
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But take heart. She won't be getting away with her crimes. As luck would have it, I'm not the only one who has noticed something dodgy about Sonia Murray. Whether it was her aversion to paying taxes, or just that her number finally came up, a story in The Age <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/victoria/key-indigenous-group-members-facing-fraud-theft-and-tax-evasion-allegations-20140713-zt61x.html" target="_blank">yesterday</a> is the turning of the tide for this particular fraudster. A possible missing million dollars does not go away quickly or quietly, and now that it is out there in public, questions - uncomfortable questions - need to be asked.Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-66219313052713263322014-05-24T07:57:00.000-07:002014-05-24T07:57:44.469-07:00All the Answers<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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No, I don’t have them. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But I hope nobody was seriously expecting I would.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I want to dispel a myth that has been doing
the rounds for some time now, and tends to take us all in at some point, but is
ultimately holding us back from making real progress.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There is no Black Superman coming to save and unite us all
who <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">has</b> all the answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We don’t need an Aboriginal version of Malcolm X, or Nelson
Mandela to lead us to the ‘promised land’ of a better tomorrow and unite us all
for a common good.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s a popular
thought, one I’ve even bought into at times myself, but it is holding us back
from where we really need to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Nelson Mandela was an amazing man in many respects, and
whether you are a critic or an admirer, it is undeniable that he influenced many
South Africans who believed him to be their hero. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man who saved them from apartheid and
promised them a better tomorrow. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The ANC
today owe their position largely to the loyal voters who were Mandelas army,
who have allowed their faith in one man to let them believe that they could
close their eyes and relax.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He helped to
establish the ANC, so it has his seal of approval and saintly touch, affording
it an almost unquestioned morally superior status.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Superman had come to save the day and now,
they could be free and relax their guards, content in the knowledge that their
hero, Mandela, had ensured all would be well forevermore.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But it wasn’t to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Enter
Jacob Zuma, now head of the ANC but probably more scandalously known as an alleged
rapist and big time embezzler after his headline grabbing first term in
power.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Despite his party claiming that
they are dedicated to uplifting the<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>quality of life for the poor,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>he
installed a swimming pool at his luxurious compound while failing to achieve delivery
of electricity or running water to the poorest of his people first .<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
He has just been inaugurated for his second term.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The problem with wanting to jump behind an icon, whether
racial, religious or otherwise, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is that doing
so is littered with pitfalls and hidden harms – and the fallout from these will
be long, people will suffer, and as a country we will take years to recover
from it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jim Jones wasn’t always
offering after lecture refreshments of bitter tasting KoolAid <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>that knocked you down dead. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nearly a thousand men, women and children did
what the man they had followed unquestioningly, some for nearly a decade by
then, had asked them to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Parents
helped their children drink the foul liquid, then drank it themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
They hadn’t all been unknowingly spiked the
night before with mind altering drugs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They hadn’t been mass hypnotised or told a lie about what flavour that
KoolAid was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every adult knew that to
drink it meant death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that is what
they did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Few people said no, and fewer
still tried to run for their lives and hide. More than 95% of the followers at
Jonestown went to their deaths on the panicked whim of their icon and nothing more. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Icons and Idols have tremendous power to do great harm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whether it’s a religious figure, racial icon or
representative of an ideology that is politically based or otherwise, they should not
be free from scrutiny, and should never be believed to have all the answers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we allow ourselves to believe such a thing
is possible, that one person can tell us all we need to know, and guide all our
decisions, then we allow that person an opportunity to have complete control of
our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once you hand over that much
power, it’s all up to luck whether you wake up in time not to drink that
KoolAid.</div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-77364554995436715352014-05-21T22:12:00.001-07:002014-05-21T22:12:34.752-07:00Who's your mob?<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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If you’ve read any ‘Aboriginal’ media interviews, or watched
NITV for longer than an hour, you’ve probably come across the question ‘Who’s
Your Mob?’, and for those who never heard it, let me explain it to you, and for
those who have – I want to tell you why I despise the term.</div>
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<br /></div>
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For those not in the know, or new to the term, ‘Who’s Your
Mob?’, it is a term crafted and used originally by the Aboriginal Industry,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>but now is creeping into the mainstream
media, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>to place a special label on a person
and confirm their heritage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently,
all Aboriginal people identify by their tribal groupings nowadays, and use this
greeting to identify who they are to other Aboriginal people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least, that is the idea they’ve been
promoting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can hear and see the term
used often when someone wants to draw attention to the fact the person they are
interviewing is ‘Indigenous’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When asked
the question ‘Who’s Your Mob?’, the answer is supposed to be a tribal
name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This allows you to then be referred
to as a ‘(insert tribal name) man/woman’ thereafter.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Being ‘culturally aware’ is difficult.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not just hard because the term is misleading,
but difficult because a certain level of mental disconnect is required to
achieve what stands for cultural awareness in this country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Who’s Your Mob?’ is a perfect example of
this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What may have been a common use
greeting in one area, or one state, or amongst several family groups does not
constitute an appropriate ideal for all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But it has become almost standard use among several media outlets
already. Despite the fact that we are striving for better educated Aboriginal
adults and children, we are encouraging the use of little more than slang as a
benchmark for our communications with one another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> We should be aiming much, much higher than that.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Can anyone please explain to me how it is racist to say “All
Aboriginal people are (insert derogatory stereotype of your choice)”, but not
racist to think all Aboriginal people use poor grammar and are capable of
speaking or understanding in only the most basic of English, or have only one
way to ask one another where they are from, or who their family are.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m told only the first one is racist, the
other, simply ‘cultural awareness’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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If that is what passes as ‘cultural awareness’, you can take
it and shove the whole idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I speak,
read and understand English at a level you would hardly call remedial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not a skill unheard of for an
Aboriginal person to possess, in any location.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Because of the way I look, I am often approached by people
for no other reason than the thought that we may share some relatives
somewhere, or may have a common friend locally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This exchange is usually instigated by a nod of the head and nothing
more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I see someone I don’t know, but
who looks obviously Aboriginal to me, one of us will inevitably nod in the
direction of the other and a conversation will start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Never once, in my many encounters, have I
been asked ‘Who’s Your Mob?’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not once. When
I talk about my family to others, I identify my links through missions, not
tribal names or groups.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People will ask
what my surname is, or ask for the location where I live or where extended
family live, but never,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ever, do I get
the NITV style ‘Who’s Your Mob?’</div>
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.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I am not a product of traditional people who stayed on their
ancestral lands, but a child born from generations of native people to this
land who were rounded up and placed on missions almost two centuries ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My brother, sister and I are the first generation
of my family to not be born and raised on a mission, but who were born to two
parents who lived that life, and whose grandparents were, and their
great-grandparents before them…and on it goes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My story is not unique, but neither is it a story that fits all
Aboriginal people in this country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In
the seemingly endless obsession to classify and understand Aboriginal people as
a race, whether through the misguided notion that by doing so, less racism will
occur, or whether for some other less noble intent, we’ve made a messy and
uncomfortable bed for ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
label ourselves brings the expectation we can be categorised and understood
based on that label alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing could
be further from the truth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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The culprits aren’t just evil whitey anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Aboriginal people have to wake up and point the finger at
ourselves here as well, because now that we’re a special race, with special rules, and
unelected representatives who speak for us and decide the issues on our behalf,
it’s all on us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By saying we’re so
different, and do things in a ‘special’ way, so unlike everyone else and so
unique and, again, special, we’re forced to conform to an imperfect ideal that
is supposed to speak for us all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We lose
the right to be unique individuals when we allow ourselves to believe that we
can be defined so easily, and by something that matters so little when it comes
to who and what we are as a human being. </div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-73691062973257023802014-05-21T21:36:00.001-07:002014-05-21T21:36:59.597-07:00Gap YearIt's been awhile, but I'm dusting off the keyboard.<br />
<br />
Not that it ever gained a whole lot of dust. I half started over a dozen pieces, even managed to finish one - but I was enjoying time away from the internet more the longer time went on, and my short break away wound up being a gap year (and then some). <br />
<br />
I wasn't completely cut off in my absence. I didn't miss the Adam Goodes/Eddie McGuire affair, the 18c repeal debate, or anything else that was reported via television news, so expect my 2c on those dated subjects in time as well. And if you can't wait until then for which side of the fence I am about the King Kong joke, I'll at least give you an answer to that - I think Eddie got a bum rap. I'm not his biggest fan, but the guy wasn't being a racist.<br />
<br />
Let the fun and games begin... <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-91727329938644829442013-04-04T06:37:00.000-07:002013-04-04T06:37:19.696-07:00Who is more Aboriginal?Recently, a contributor to this blog (Brotha_B) posed a question to me:-<br />
<br />
<i>In a previous post you wrote that neither of your children are
disadvantaged “simply because they have an Aboriginal father” and that
they do not fit the ‘stereotypes’ associated with Aboriginal kids in
central Australia. However, would you agree this does not make them any
less Aboriginal? They are still entitled to be proud of their heritage.</i><br />
<br />
And in this blog post, I'd like to begin to attempt to answer that question, but I'm afraid I'll pose many more in the process. <br />
<br />
You can't say you haven't been warned. It's going to be a long one... <br />
<br />
<br />
First, I think we need to be allowed to discuss what Aboriginality is? How can we even answer who is less or more Aboriginal, if we don't have an opinion first of what it is to be 'Aboriginal'. The thing is, Aboriginality (or being Aboriginal) means different things to different people, and a majority of those opinions I've been lucky enough to have shared with me in no way fit with the current three part definition that makes up our current law.<br />
<br />
For some, to be Aboriginal means that you speak your traditional language, live on your traditional land (and understand how it was and is passed to you to care for), follow lore, perform ceremonies and know the stories of your creation. To these people, my children would both not be considered 'truly Aboriginal' and neither would I. Just of descent from those who once were.<br />
<br />
For others, to be Aboriginal is an identity you have been given, whether chosen or not. By virtue of appearance alone, an inescapable identity that singles you out from others - whether positive or negative. <br />
<br />
For yet others, being Aboriginal means that you have discovered a relative in your family tree who was identified as being 'Aboriginal' at some point, and therefore accept a previously unknown identity and adopt that in part or in full - due to pride, or a wish to 'belong' or a genuine interest in family history and Aboriginal culture, right up to the more sinister motivations like financial advantage or power seeking. <br />
<br />
For a few, Aboriginality is about race. The recognition that prior to the arrival of the various waves of people to these shores, there were a race of people scattered upon this country who shared genetic traits, practiced various rituals that often differed from tribe to tribe - collectively known as 'Aborigines', and that the bloodlines and traditional practices stemming from these people have either been diluted or maintained. How Aboriginal you are depends on your mathematical blood quotient and their cut-off marks with what constitutes cultural practices.<br />
<br />
I don't speak language (hasn't been the practice in my family since
my Great-Grandparents), live in the suburbs and would completely agree
with traditional Aboriginal people when they say they don't see me as
truly Aboriginal. By their standards, I'm not, and I understand and
accept that. My children wouldn't be either. Although I've never been mistaken for anything other than
Aboriginal, and despite my genetic lineage, Aboriginality is as much a
system of lore and living and traditions to those who know what they are
talking about when they say the word 'culture', as it is about genetic lines. It is not skin colour
or who you happened to be born to or from that gives you authority. It is far, far more complex than that. In their world, I have no respect or standing, and rightly so. Our worlds are completely different and to ignore that is nothing short of being disrespectful. I'm far more 'whitefella' than 'blackfella' in their eyes.<br />
<br />
<br />
The thing is, if you asked 100 people who identify as Aboriginal and another 100 who don't, from all walks of life, to answer the question 'who is Aboriginal?' honestly, and without fear of reprisal or judgement (and they're not allowed to use the 'safe answer' of the three part definition), you will probably get a wide range of answers - everything from fitting into the categories above, halfway between one and another, to those that could make other categories completely. When I've posed this question over the course of my life to all kinds of people, I've gotten a huge variation in responses. All I've learnt is there is no one definition that is agreed upon amongst all people who consider themselves Aboriginal. <br />
<br />
If you ask me what being Aboriginal means to me, I would say it means that I am always <i>identified</i> by others as Aboriginal - that is the first thing that a question like that prompts. Second, I would say that it means my parents were of only Aboriginal heritage, as were my Grandparents, Great-Grandparents etc, therefore I am the sum total of my ancestry in that respect. <br />
<br />
I am secure in myself enough to be well aware that I am more than my appearance, but it is often the
first thing others notice about me, and frequently employed in any description of me to others.
I'm judged more often than not in new social situations by the
previous interactions with others of my racial group. I often come
without a clean slate, and have to overcome long held fears or beliefs
before I can begin to build a relationship of any substance with a great
number of people. They are often not racists, but rather, like me,
their experiences or what they have heard or been taught have helped
shape their view in a way not always approved of. They are cautious of me because I'm from the same
racial group they just watched on television, where some reporter filmed
an Aboriginal man and woman drunk and fighting in the main street of
town with the voiceover telling them this is nothing new or
exceptional. They're frightened because I look the same as the people
who John Howard came on television to explain were neglecting and
abusing their children in record numbers. They seem wary of me because
they know that Aboriginal people are over-represented in our jails, and
jails house people who have committed crimes. Possible criminal by default - proceed with caution. On the flipside, you get people who want to use you to demonstrate just how much their first year Indigenous Studies Professor has taught them about "my struggles". They tell me "you're a true Australian" or loudly exclaim that they "support the First People like me in their just plight against the white man" or simply must tell me about some rally they attended to "make a difference". <br />
<br />
Want to know the difference between the first group and the second group? <br />
<br />
With the first group, those often branded as 'racists', I often find that once I open my mouth and start talking, and they hear that I speak no differently to them, and am obviously educated - most times we find a common ground on which to start a friendly conversation and like magic, they stop seeing the black skin and treat me like an individual. The latter group, however, more often than not, never seem to stop being able to view me as a victim or as anything other than an Aborigine. They speak to me like I'm an idiot, that because of the colour of my skin, I was discriminated against in education and therefore lacking against their University educated prowess so they must make concessions for me and expect a lower standard of me at every opportunity. They seem to believe that I am unaware of how the modern world works, or worse, believe I need some of their do-gooderness to overcome a disadvantage that I clearly don't have. I'm a cause, not a person to them. <br />
<br />
But back to the original question...<br />
<br />
Based
on my own opinion of Aboriginality, my children have part Aboriginal
heritage. They live with me in the suburbs (they visit but don't live on the
land their Aboriginal ancestors did), speak only English, and therefore, to me, they
are 'less' Aboriginal than those children who live a traditional life,
or have heritage that is solely Aboriginal. I want them to have pride in the ancestors, but not selective pride. My kids have a white history
and family that is just as large as their black family and black
history. To pretend they don't, that they are only a singular racial background or identity, is not appreciating all of what contributes to making them who they are, and in turn, insults good people who have always loved them unashamedly (as do my children them) - whose only 'sin' worthy of such treatment is apparently being white. <br />
<br />
That my children are 'less' Aboriginal than some others in my eyes is not really the important argument in the entire debate. It is not about whether they are part-Aboriginal, or part-white, or seen as one or the other, but whether having Aboriginal ancestors in itself makes them disadvantaged to the degree that other Aboriginal people in certain communities are. I can't in good conscience say that they have it anywhere near as hard as many people I know who just happen to share their racial background. Disadvantage is about circumstances, not genetics or racial identity, even if one racial group has statistically poorer outcomes than another. It is not 100% of the group suffering, yet we continue with race based funding rather than needs based funding in an effort to alleviate this suffering and disadvantage. All the while we're happy to pretend that there is no harm done by acting in this way, and ignore the fact that to provide benefit to one race exclusively, based only on the fact they belong to or identify as belonging to that race, is in itself 'racism'. That kind of racism, we're apparently happy to suffer. Other types, not so much. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Racial politics are difficult. Even for me, its often a fine line to walk. If I do not mention my heritage, I am accused of somehow being ashamed of my race, when the reality is, I'm proud to have the heritage I do. I'm proud because I'm descended from some great people who did great things. The thing is, that heritage makes up only a small part of who I am as an individual and a person. I'm many things that I'm very proud of - an Aussie, a father and husband, a carer, a lover of Rugby League and old Kingswoods - as well as being of Aboriginal heritage. I'm no poster child for the Aboriginal disadvantage and suffering we are sold as being necessary to ask no questions about where race-based funding is spent, or how it is divided up. If anything, people like me are the reason we should ask hard questions and not shy away from debate on this topic. Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com61tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-86737434610471019982013-03-24T19:47:00.001-07:002013-03-24T19:47:25.805-07:00Success - we like it whiteWhy are these people smiling?<br />
<br />
<br />
<img alt="Picture" class="wsite-image galleryImageBorder" src="http://www.robertasykesfoundation.com/uploads/3/3/0/4/3304946/6925861.gif?1339650970" style="border-width: 1px; margin: 5px 10px 10px 0px; padding: 3px;" title="" /><br />
<br />
The two on the left are smiling because they've not long returned from Harvard. The two on the right are smiling because they're about to depart for Oxford.<br />
<br />
<img alt="The 2012 Charlie Perkins Trust Scholars" height="300" src="http://www.perkinstrust.com.au/images/2012scholars-with-PM.gif" title="" width="500" /> <br />
<br />
These three (excluding of course, the not-for-much-longer PM) are smiling because they're off to Oxford & Cambridge.<br />
<br />
And yes, they're all Aboriginal. All helped to achieve their dreams and more success than they imagined by the generous people at the Roberta Sykes Indigenous Education Foundation & The Charlie Perkins Scholarship Trust, with help from the faithful taxpayers of course. <br />
<br />
Both organisations make some pretty high aims. Some of them I even agree with, like needing more positive Aboriginal role models and mentors out there, however, I disagree with having an overwhelming majority of white faces cast to play those roles. That is not to say that each of those people in the photo above won't be a great role model due to their achievements and efforts for their own family, or their friends, but a nationwide beacon of hope to all Aboriginal people? You can't even hope to claim such a thing is true.<br />
<br />
What these opportunities have done is help these specific people. Not all Aboriginal people . We have no end of Doctors, Lawyers, Academics, Artists and Authors who identify as Aboriginal, however - it seems a smaller and smaller number of those are <i>easily identifiable </i>as Aboriginal - and therein lies the difference. Whilst someone of a similarly fair complexion who identifies as Aboriginal may be able to look up to the group above and see one or more of them as someone whose achievements they can aspire to, that is just not the case for me. <br />
<br />
Perhaps, what is most disappointing, is the fact that when we question this lack of black faces among those receiving assistance in the name of Aboriginal Equality, we're called racist, or perpetrators of Lateral Violence. Whilst taking part in the 'Aboriginal or Not' SBS program, Greg Lehmann stressed the point that those of us questioning the motives of those like him were guilty of Lateral Violence and responsible for much of the infighting amongst Aboriginal people.<br />
<br />
<br />
<img alt="" src="https://c479107.ssl.cf2.rackcdn.com/avatars/18999/width238/g2kcmjbx-1359295958.jpg" /> <br />
<br />
A pretty comfortable position to take when you're on the blackfella dollar at Oxford, <i>bruz</i>. <br />
<br />
Similarly, Kyle Turner, recipient of a scholarship in excess of $50,000 for Aboriginal students, wrote a piece denouncing any questioning of heritage in a piece in <a href="http://www.theglobalmail.org/feature/dont-judge-a-black-by-their-cover/329/" target="_blank">The Global Mail </a>in August last year, using the tired line of 'Bolt is a neo-con', rather than address the questions people like Bolt have even raised. It is just easier to keep labelling people I guess, as engaging in a dialogue on the issues may just bring to the surface some uncomfortable truths that cast some of us in an unfavourable light. <br />
<br />
But who is that helping to succeed? <br />
<br />
<br />
Let's look at the local cohort of Indigenous Barristers here in Victoria.<br />
<br />
<img alt="Linda A Lovett" src="http://www.vicbar.com.au/webdata/pictures/3900.jpg" title="" width="179" /><img alt="Robin A Robinson" src="http://www.vicbar.com.au/webdata/pictures/4382.jpg" title="" width="179" /><img alt="" src="http://www.vicbar.com.au/webdata/pictures/4099.jpg" title="Munya (Maria) Andrews ... Shift+R improves the quality of this image. Shift+A improves the quality of all images on this page." width="179" /><img alt="Cathy M Dowsett" src="http://www.vicbar.com.au/webdata/pictures/4297.jpg" title="" width="179" /><img alt="Jacqualyn L Turfrey" src="http://www.vicbar.com.au/webdata/pictures/4434.jpg" title="" width="179" /><img alt="Abigail I Burchill" src="http://www.vicbar.com.au/webdata/pictures/4471.jpg" title="" width="179" /><br />
<br />
Or have a gander at the Board over at the <a href="http://www.aida.org.au/board.aspx" target="_blank">Australian Indigenous Doctors Association</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
What gaps have we closed again? Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-60831374135023540432013-03-18T06:37:00.000-07:002013-03-18T06:37:24.900-07:00Don't be sorry for me<br />
When I was born in 1973, my parents were only 18 years old - and I was their third child. Before I was 2 years of age, my brother, sister and myself became foster children.<br />
<br />
My brother and I were sent to live with a white couple, who by this stage were also taking care of several of my Aunts. My sister was fostered and eventually adopted by the brother and sister-in-law of my foster mother. <br />
<br />
But don't be sorry for me.<br />
<br />
That white couple, I call them Mum and Dad. And I couldn't have asked for better parents to raise me than the two people my father and Great-Grandmother (Nan) chose.<br />
<br />
Dad was a hardworking, big hearted bloke, and Mum was a larger than life woman, who'd always wanted to have children, but after several losses was told that it was never going to happen. Thankfully, fate stepped in and our worlds collided. Her best friend was employed as the Nurse at the Lake Tyers Aboriginal mission, and introduced Mum to my Nan, who instantly fell in love with her. Turns out they were the answer to each others prayers.<br />
<br />
My father was the eldest of a large family of 9 children, and by the time I was born, his mother had already passed away at the ripe old age of 35 - close to two years before I even arrived in the world. Before I would have my first birthday, his father would also be dead, aged only 40. After the passing of my Grandfather in 1974, my Nan, now 64 years old, was left to care for her grandchildren - three of them still under the age of 10. Adding to her headaches, my parents weren't doing such a bang-up job of things (very young, both only knowing mission life and having three young kids, I can't say I'd do better) and my Nan again had to step in. <br />
<br />
I'm grateful that my Nan could see the value in education, as that is what she hoped to achieve for us by sending us to be cared for out in the 'white world'. She wanted the opportunities and a life for us that she knew would never be afforded to us if we stayed on the mission, and so, along with my father, made what would have been one of the hardest yet most selfless decisions of her impressive life - and sent us to live with a couple she had grown to love and admire for their generous hearts and kind souls.<br />
<br />
My father and my Nan were regular visitors to our house while I was growing up, as were most of our extended family. By the time I was about 8 or 9, my parents had 12 foster children (including me) - all of them Aboriginal and all of them related to me. I had cousins, Aunts and my brother living in the same house, and whenever another carload of relatives would turn up to visit, the doors would be flung open and everyone was welcome. Each and every holiday, we would have a full house and then some, and there was always lots of laughter and love in the house. We had the kind of childhood that you see in the movies, we celebrated 'Unbirthdays' and even had our own special song to go with them, had regular 'Scare Nights' as most of us were horror fans, and got into everything festive and seasonal. <br />
<br />
Mum and Dad did all of this on a tight budget, and I watched them both go without time and time again to make sure each and every one of us had what we needed first. Dad worked long hours as a pump jockey, and never complained. I remember one day he had an accident at work and burnt his leg quite badly with LPG gas, but he refused to even take the afternoon off work, hopping around on one leg to fill other peoples cars with petrol because he had 12 hungry kids to feed. Mum was a financial wizard who knew where to find the best bargains and stretched Dads pay packet out to get value from every cent. We never went hungry, we always had a warm bed to sleep in, and there was always a hug and the door was always open. <br />
<br />
But it wasn't always sunshine and roses. <br />
<br />
Two white people and a large brood of black kids tend to stand out. Often for all the wrong reasons. I don't know how we came onto their radar, but after finding out about us, one of the local Aboriginal organisations began making noise about our situation. They were unhappy that white people were fostering Aboriginal children, and wanted us removed from their care. We were reported to Welfare, but thankfully the world wasn't yet gripped by Stolen Generation hysteria, and when they found us to be well fed, clean and healthy, wanting to stay and very much loved, they had no grounds to remove us. This didn't stop the cycle repeating several times over, and by the time I was in my teens, Mum had a thick folder full of letters from Welfare - all typed up on blue paper - all the result of people who cared not for our situation or our welfare, but were simply horrified that the people providing exceptional care to us were, shock horror, white.<br />
<br />
I was never denied my culture, in fact, my parents did everything they could to keep us connected and proud of who we were. My father was a regular visitor to our house, and he and Mum built up their own special connection, one that endured for decades and until death. He called her 'Mumma Dawn' and she had a multitude of nicknames for him, 'Peanut Butter' being one of the favourites. <br />
<br />
My mother was quite a different story. I only remember one visit from her, when I was about 8 or 9. My Uncle had brought her down to see us, but when they pulled up in the driveway, she didn't come inside the house. I was told to go out and see her, and we mumbled a 'hi' to each other before I invited her to come inside. She stayed firmly planted in her seat and told me she wouldn't go inside the house, not with those 'white c**ts inside'. I remember feeling angry, and I said to her 'those white c**ts are looking after us kids and you don't even have the decency to come in and say hi'. I told her I didn't want to see her again if she was going to be like that.<br />
<br />
I didn't see her again until I was in my 20's. An encounter in a hospital entrance - I walked straight past her and didn't recognise her. My brother had to point her out to me, and I introduced myself to her like a stranger 'Hi, I'm Dallas, remember, your son?'. The only response I got was 'Oh...hi'. Awkward silence ensued and I left shortly after. She died about a year later, and took with her all the answers to all the questions that seem to amount to little more than Why? <br />
<br />
Mum & Dad lost friends, and even family, over their decision to foster Aboriginal kids. Mum had a sister who lived just around the corner from us, but I never met her. When Mum began fostering, she just disappeared. Another sister almost completely ceased visiting her, and when confronted as to why, she revealed her husband 'doesn't like Aborigines'. After his death, when she still didn't visit, we all realised what was really going on. Mum never had time for the mind games though, she was a very no-nonsense woman and people quickly came to realise that if we weren't welcome somewhere, Mum wouldn't go either. <br />
<br />
<br />
Right up to the final years of their lives, they fostered Aboriginal children. More than 40 all told, some short term, but most like me, children they raised from infancy to adulthood. When I lost them both in 2009, I was gutted. The two people who had given me everything in life and asked for nothing in return, the people who had always been there to guide me, to provide everything in a role model I could ask for and then some, were gone. I will be forever grateful that I had the privilege to call two such incredible people Mum and Dad, and eternally thankful for all that they have done for me.<br />
<br />
I wouldn't be here, writing this today, if not for them. <br />
<br />
Vale Raymond Christoffersen - beloved father to many<br />
Vale Irene 'Dawn' Christoffersen - beloved mother to many<br />
<br />
**This has been a difficult post to write, and rather an emotional experience - but one I feel is necessary. I want people to understand that great foster carers come in all colours - and I believe it would be nothing less than a tragedy for the current thinking of 'Aboriginal kids need Aboriginal carers' to be allowed to gain any more traction. Kids need good carers, loving carers, and dedicated carers, and sometimes, the best person for the job will be a white person - and that is definitely not something to fear.Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-9720895914198423032013-03-17T02:15:00.000-07:002013-03-17T02:15:07.121-07:00'Elders' Behaving BadlyMore than a year ago (July, 2011), I went and had a meeting with Patricia (Pat) Ockwell.<br />
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<img height="213" id="il_fi" src="http://static.lifeislocal.com.au/multimedia/images/full/809590.jpg" style="padding-bottom: 8px; padding-right: 8px; padding-top: 8px;" width="320" /><br />
<br />
Pat Ockwell is a special kind of Self-Appointed Elder, and it is good to be her friend. <br /><br />Pat is a tireless Volunteer in her community. In her position at <a href="http://ahvic.org.au/about/board/" target="_blank">Victorian Aboriginal Housing</a>, she has helped many of her friends, family, and,<a href="http://www.health.vic.gov.au/archive/archive2010/humanservicesnews/sep09/boost.htm" target="_blank"> even herself</a>, to the best stock in the roster. <br />
<br />
<img alt="People infront of unit jpeg" height="200" src="http://www.health.vic.gov.au/archive/archive2010/humanservicesnews/sep09/rscs/boost.jpg" width="280" /><br />
<br />
I'm sure when most people think of 'Aboriginal Housing', the brand new, modern units you see in the photo above aren't what first comes to mind. But that is what special people like Pat get, and although Aboriginal Housing Victoria have large numbers of homes that are old and poorly maintained, they save those beauties for the rest of the applicants who aren't related to the hierarchy of the Board, or friends with them. <br />
<br />I'm definitely not on Pat's friend list. She was the person who was sitting with me (in one of her many roles, of which my favourite was where she was given the tile of 'Respected Elder' - which admittedly would go great on a business card) when I filled out my 'Proof of Aboriginality' application, only to wind up being rejected. Despite her constant assurances during our meeting that she knew my family well (in fact, she made the statement 'you can't be a Victorian Aboriginal and not know who Charlie Carter (my paternal grandfather) is!'), and would vouch for me at the Board meeting, something went wrong. That something, was a long friendship between an Aunt of mine (with whom I'd fallen out in 2009), Pat, and another board member at DDAC. The same day I asked to apply for my Aboriginality, other family members attended the same Co-op and despite the fact I didn't waive my right to privacy, they were informed of my visit and future application by a DDAC Chairperson and Board Member. At this point, my estranged Aunt told her good friend, 'don't give him what he wants'. <br />
<br />
I cannot say for certain whether my Aunts input was what led to my application being denied and then locked away in the CEOs' office for months, but, having watched this particular Aunt receive preferential treatment from Aboriginal Housing and other Industry organisations - thanks to Pat Ockwell and her friends - over many years, and in the absence of any believable alternative explanation being forthcoming from the organisations and people involved, there is little other conclusion to draw.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, Pat didn't end her meddling in my business there.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
In March, 2012, my father passed away. During this difficult time, Pat took it upon herself to manage the guest list for his funeral. I say 'manage', as that is probably how she sees her actions (and how she manages to sleep soundly night after night) - but the reality is far, far different. Pat didn't work a family tree and a phone tirelessly night and day to ensure no mourner was left behind, instead, she took it upon herself to publicly abuse a woman who had mentioned she would be attending. It didn't matter to Pat that this woman was related to our family by marriage, and already had been given permission to attend by the children and partner of the deceased - heck, it didn't even bother Pat that this poor young woman had terminal cancer. Pat took it upon herself during a support group meeting at DDAC to publicly belittle this woman and tell her she was unwelcome at my fathers funeral. She reduced an already suffering woman to tears, all on the advice of her good friend - my estranged Aunt.<br />
<br />
Pat did not attend my fathers funeral, and as for my estranged Aunt, she didn't even stay for the whole service and was long gone by the time we buried his body. One of the last mourners to leave was in fact, the young woman who Pat had abused. <br />
<br />
Unlike most of the rest of us, there aren't many consequences for bad behaviour in Pats world. Although she undertook her tirade without grounds, and in a venue where she is also employed (actually, scratch that, technically - and you'll love this one - she works as a Volunteer so no action can be taken against her), when I attempted to raise a complaint about her behaviour with one of the organisations she 'volunteers' for, nobody wanted to touch it with a ten foot pole. Such is the power of a Self-Appointed Elder that nobody in the Industry
dares to speak against them for fear of the repercussions, and when an Elder behaves badly, everyone is encouraged to look the other way and say nothing. <br />
<br />
<br />
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-29276308233436061472013-03-09T08:35:00.000-08:002013-03-09T08:35:00.219-08:00Lessons of a pale sonI've often heard the criticism that I wouldn't know what it is like to have people question your heritage, or know how it feels to have wild accusations thrown your way for your identity and skin colour, nor understand how in some mixed-race families, siblings can have entirely different skin colours.<br />
<br />
To this, I always answer 'you don't know me very well'.<br />
<br />
In June of 2007, my wife gave birth to fraternal (non-identical) twins. A boy and a girl, who have taught me some of my greatest lessons in life. They share a birthday, and the honour of being million-to-one special - the apparent odds of having black and white twins. To be honest, those odds surprise me, it is hardly unheard of, in fact, there are no shortage of stories of the same <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/pressoffice/pressreleases/stories/2011/09_september/05/mixed4.shtml" target="_blank">phenomenon</a> all over. Take a black skinned father, a white skinned mother and your guess is as good as mine what colour the child will come out. <br />
<br />
The freak factor comes from the fact that when most people think 'twins' they think of identical twins, who almost always look so similar that you can spot that they are twins immediately. Fraternal twins on the other hand, come in all varieties - from those that look reasonably alike, right up to a pair like ours.<br />
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<img height="300" src="http://m.ak.fbcdn.net/sphotos-d.ak/hphotos-ak-snc6/198014_5133423151_437_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
<br />
<br />
<img height="196" src="http://m.ak.fbcdn.net/sphotos-a.ak/hphotos-ak-ash4/224315_9178688151_8169_n.jpg" width="400" /><br />
<i>(Zeke on the left, Kyla on the right )</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
From pretty much the outset, my wife and I got a lot of questions. Everyone wanted to say something, or ask a question - and not always kindly. But, it never bothered me. I never felt offended when people asked questions, even the ones like 'are you sure your wife didn't cheat on you?'. The thing is, you can choose to feel offended by something like that, or you can stop and try to understand how that person came to wonder such a thing. I put myself in their shoes. I can get that people would be shocked that they look so different - if they weren't my own kids, I'd probably find them fascinating myself and have a few questions pop up in my mind that are not dissimilar to the ones I've had more times than I can count and will probably get again many more times in the years to come.<br />
<br />
The trick is not to allow yourself to get a persecution complex. You see, the reality is, those people go away, live their lives, and I live mine. I can't control what they think, and nor do I care to do so. I know who I am, I know the life I have lived and feel secure in who I am. I don't need someone else to verify who I already know I am, and that is how I am raising my children to view their own sense of self. Along with knowledge of their culture, I am responsible for giving them a strong and true identity. This means understanding and accepting the fact that they are both part Aboriginal, and part 'dysfunctional white people' (my wifes contribution when asked how she'd like her family described in a few words) in heritage, but 100% Australian. <br />
<br />
I look for neither child to have acceptance by some mystical 'Aboriginal community' that supposedly encompasses every person who is Aboriginal or of Aboriginal descent. No such thing exists, and they are accepted into the only community that counts, family and our circle of good friends. All that really matters in the end is that my black skinned family don't shun my white skinned son, nor do they favour or treat specially my dark-skinned daughter. My wifes white skinned family, the same. If either side were to behave otherwise, they'd be booted from our inner sanctum. Our children are special as individuals and when you look at them all the time, believe it or not, you stop noticing the colour difference.<br />
<br />
This year, both children have started Prep - their very first year of school. Unfortunately, they are at two different schools, about half an hours drive apart. They are not separated because of colour, but, because of that all important word - NEED. My dark skinned daughter is doing just fine in a wonderful little semi-rural public school (she is quite the social butterfly and already has a best friend), my white skinned boy is making incredible progress at the closest special school to our home that is equipped for his needs.<br />
<br />
<img height="230" src="http://m.ak.fbcdn.net/sphotos-b.ak/hphotos-ak-snc6/185848_10150096221068152_334903_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
(<i>Finishing Kinder</i>)<br />
<br />
Neither is disadvantaged simply because they have an Aboriginal father, and I'm on a mission to stop anyone who wants to try to fill either of their heads with such rubbish. They are not a stereotype, in fact, compared to the poorest Aboriginal kids in Central Australia and parts of the Northern Territory, they are incredibly well off and very lucky. How many kids out there with special needs have access to the type of care that my son gets? How many kids out there have parents that make sure they attend school with a packed lunch every single day? What percentage do you reckon have parents that are even functionally literate? <br />
<br />
The children you see above get three full meals every day, and always have clean clothes to wear and sleep one to a bed - not 3 or 4 to a mat on the ground. We have access to good doctors and a hospital with tertiary facilities within half an hours drive. We have all the major supermarket chains within walking distance to buy fresh food, we have access to multiple types of public transport (trains and buses), and although my local police get a bad rap from time to time, I am certain that if I ever ended up in their cells (and I have seen the inside of a drunk tank more than a few times in my younger, wilder days) I'd walk back out alive.<br />
<br />
Most importantly of all, my kids have me to protect them from all the horrors many of those children who are suffering for little more than an accident of birth (being born into a disadvantaged and dysfunctional Aboriginal family is nothing we choose) endure - the threat of physical and sexual abuse. Those who know me well or have much to do with me are well aware that my family is my life, and that if they harm my children, I will kill them and happily serve jail time for it. <br />
<br />
<br />Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-41664352693518049462013-03-09T07:32:00.000-08:002013-03-09T07:32:01.668-08:00Mortimer v AitkinI've never made a charitable donation to an Aboriginal organisation, however, should Shane Mortimer win his $6 million dollar lawsuit for damages against Professor Don Aitkin, by his words, it looks like I'm going to do so by default. <br />
<br />
In an <a href="http://www.theaustralian.com.au/national-affairs/indigenous/not-fair-indigenous-identity-back-in-court/story-fn9hm1pm-1226514765175" target="_blank">article</a> in the Australian from November last year:-<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Arial; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18.890625px;">Mr Mortimer's damages claim included personal damages of $500,000 and $5.5 million to be paid to the Agriculture Arts Residency Kenmore, of which he was chairman. He said $5.5m equated to $10 for each indigenous person counted in the last census."</span></i><br />
<br />
I could think of many better non-profit organisations than <a href="http://www.theaark.org/The_AARK/Contact_Us.html" target="_blank">AARK</a> that I would donate money to if it were up to me, but, apparently it is ok to count me in the numbers to get your cash, but not ok to get a general consensus first on whether I, and the other Indigenous Australians you are so generously tin shaking for, approve of what you spend it on. For the record, I don't. If you want a massive cash injection into your organisation, this is not the right way to do it. <br />
<br />
I do have a couple of questions though. As the Chairman of AARK, I imagine Shane Mortimer would be able to answer them:-<br />
<br />
How much did AARK pay <a href="http://www.goulburnpost.com.au/story/969572/bonita-mabo-painted-by-goulburn-artist/" target="_blank">Gregory Fergusson</a> for his paintings? <br />
<br />
Is it AARK's standard practice <b>not</b> to work with Aboriginal artists? (I only ask because the esteemed Gregory Fergusson, a non Indigenous artist, appears to be the only person whose <a href="http://www.theaark.org/The_AARK/iArts.html" target="_blank">works feature</a> on the website)<br />
<br />
Does iArts stand for 'Indigenous Arts', just as the<a href="http://www.theaark.org/The_AARK/iAgriculture.html" target="_blank"> Iagriculture page </a>was titled 'Indigenous Agriculture'? Or did the fact you only had artworks from a non-Indigenous artist on your iArts page make that a bit difficult?<br />
<br />
Aside from all of the above, I'm also curious about Shane Mortimers claim to be an 'Elder'. I was reading another <a href="http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/features/heart-of-the-nation-mount-taylor-2606/story-e6frg8h6-1226593171250" target="_blank">article</a> today where it mentions that until he was 34 years old, he was not aware of his Aboriginal ancestry. I have several relatives who refuse the title of Elder, many the same age as Mr Mortimer, all adamant that they cannot be called Elder, as they missed the appropriate initiations at the relevant ages. In this age of self-appointment, I admire their respect for our culture in its original form, and it is for this very reason that I will never acknowledge Shane Mortimer (and others like him who find their Aboriginality much later in life - such as Mick Harding or <a href="http://www.google.com.au/imgres?hl=en&cr=countryAU&biw=1366&bih=667&tbs=ctr:countryAU&tbm=isch&tbnid=K5kUqvsnatOvxM:&imgrefurl=http://www.blackinkpress.com.au/%3Fattachment_id%3D1215&docid=1p2TH78WOXbC4M&itg=1&imgurl=http://www.blackinkpress.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/Gloria-Whalan-11.jpg&w=1596&h=1772&ei=qUs7UcLbKKfsmAWs94DQDw&zoom=1&ved=1t:3588,r:0,s:0,i:78&iact=rc&dur=463&page=1&tbnh=158&tbnw=137&start=0&ndsp=25&tx=57&ty=62" target="_blank">Gloria Whalan</a>) as being an Elder. Loss of your culture is never an excuse for such denigration of those Elders whose titles were given to them in accordance with traditional laws and practices, and by placing yourself in a category with people who have had to prove themselves to their peers, undergo rituals, prove their worth in and among their people and rise to such a position over many years, that is exactly what you are doing.<br />
<br />
I tend to view self-appointed, so-called 'Elders' with an especially grim outlook when I see they are also guilty of another common lure - the 'cash for ceremonies' crowd. Thankfully, I've never been forced to sit through a Welcome to Country, but I imagine if it ever happens, it wouldn't be a pretty sight. I would probably walk out unless I could be assured of two things - 1) That the person performing the ceremony was truly appointed by the local people as their representative to perform such things with their permission (this is often NOT the case) and 2) That if a fee were to be charged, that the fee go to a fund or trust where ALL the local Aboriginal people (whose land it is performed upon) can gain benefit from it.<br />
<br />
If it were a performance by Shane Mortimer, by my own rules, I'd leave the building. I wouldn't walk completely off the property though, I'd stick around long enough to ask the man who also gave himself the Twitter handle of, wait for it - <a href="https://twitter.com/AboriginalElder" target="_blank">'AboriginalElder'</a> - a few questions. Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-9299550540880680472013-03-06T03:50:00.000-08:002013-03-06T03:50:29.345-08:00More from the Double Standards BureauI'm not a big Mundine fan, but I feel quite a bit of sympathy for the bloke right about now.<br />
<br />
Not because he lost to Daniel Geale in the much hyped fight after his comments about Geales Aboriginality (or perceived lack of Aboriginality), but, because he had to deal with the holier than thou media reports in the lead up to that fight (as well as post fight) that were highly critical of his comments, whilst holding Geale up equally as both a poor, poor victim of a mean and nasty racist while at the same time, parading him around as the supposedly 'better man' for holding his tongue and not sinking to those apparently racist depths of mentioning colour and Aboriginality in the same sentence. <br />
<br />
Imagine my surprise to read <a href="http://www.news.com.au/national-news/victoria/how-daniel-geale-took-on-anthony-mundine-and-won/story-fndo4cq1-1226589105400" target="_blank">this article</a> and read Geales own comments regarding Mundines Aboriginality this week:<br />
<br />
<b><i>"<span style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px;">according to Geale, Sheena has more Aboriginal blood in her through her father's NSW-born, Koori-descended father than Mundine"</span></i></b><br />
<br />
Now, I may not have the great legal mind of Ron Merkel, but I'm thinking there's a court case going begging right here. Considering Anthony Mundine has <b>two parents</b> he can trace his Aboriginality through (his father <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anthony_Mundine" target="_blank">Tony</a> as well as his Bundjalung mother Lyn), whereas Sheena only has a 'Koori descended father' (which to me always implies the climb up the family tree to a blackfella who is actually, well, black - is a long one). Not only is Sheena incorrect in her statement, perhaps to a level lending her to be accused of defamation, but also, the way it is said is, well - <i>offensive. </i>I have to admit, it would be reasonably likely for Anthony Mundine to be offended by such an obviously untrue statement being bandied about as fact, especially when it is racially motivated.<br />
<br />
Somehow, I don't think a court case will be forthcoming.<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<img height="225" src="http://resources2.news.com.au/images/2013/03/02/1226589/103642-daniel-and-sheena-geale.jpg" width="400" /><br />
<i>(Geales family, pictured above, including the 'more Aboriginal than Mundine' Sheena, to the far right)</i><br />
<br />
According to the Double Standards Bureau - Mundine mentioning Aboriginality (or perceived lack thereof) = bad, Geale doing exactly the same thing = good. According to the wise Ruth Lamperd, who wrote the offending article not only without the most basic of fact checking, but also, apparently without the intestinal fortitude to note the stunning hypocrisy of what she was churning out. In Ruth world, Geale is a 'gentleman' and Mundine, little more than a 'bragger'. Add in the Phil Rothfield <a href="http://www.theaustralian.com.au/news/anthony-mundine-resurfaces-after-his-loss-to-daniel-geale/story-e6frg6n6-1226589070287" target="_blank">article</a>, a so called boxing fans <a href="http://www.news.com.au/sport/boxing-mma/gone-viral-fight-fans-open-letter-to-anthony-mundine/story-fndkzthy-1226566545206" target="_blank">rant</a> going viral, an <a href="http://www.theage.com.au/sport/boxing/bad-loser-idiot-geale-hits-out-20130131-2dnk2.html" target="_blank">Age article</a> that brands Mundine as a bad loser and an idiot, and you have the scene painted. He's the guy we must now hate for daring to speak his mind. In addition to the rabid media coverage, his <a href="http://www.facebook.com/mundine" target="_blank">Facebook page</a> has been filled with nasty, hateful comments that questioned the heritage of his mother and referred to him repeatedly as a c**t (along with plenty of other foul language) and one bright chap who told him to 'go eat a witchetty grub'. <br />
<br />
It all beggars belief. <br />
<br />
Long before all the comments about Aboriginality, Geale <a href="http://www.foxsports.com.au/other-sports/boxing/anthony-mundine-says-his-profile-is-being-used-by-daniel-geale-as-a-platform-to-get-us-fights/story-e6frf5h3-1226499317604#.UTMTojA3vwg" target="_blank">was hoping </a>for just this kind of boost to his public image. Until all this drama, he was quite the Neddy Nobody. Sure, boxing fans may have heard of him, news reports may have carried his name buried deep in the sports section long past where you've tuned out, but, he was in effect, unknown in the greater scheme of things. Definitely not what you'd call a household name. His meteoric rise was to be assisted by the usual hacks only too happy to scream <a href="http://www.thepunch.com.au/articles/what-do-you-do-about-an-aboriginal-racist/" target="_blank">'racist'</a> for a few dollars and some space online. <br />
<br />
When I look at the photo above, the first words that pop into my head aren't 'Aboriginal family'. They'd fit perfectly well into a K-Mart catalogue - the last place I see people of stereotypical Aboriginal appearance. I can see how Mundine missed the Aboriginal blood in Sheena and referred to her as 'white', being that her skin is, well, white, it was an easy mistake to make. Unfortunately, despite lots of stories to the contrary, blackfellas can't spot the 'undercover brothers and sisters'. If such nonsense really were true, the same 'undercover brothers and sisters' wouldn't be shouting constantly about how offended they are when 'other Aboriginal people' question their statement that they are Aboriginal. You don't exude an unseen vibe, nor does my magic spirit guide tap me on the shoulder and say 'look over there, its cuz' as you walk past me down the street. I also am unable to tell the difference between a non Indigenous activist with blonde hair and blue eyes who is wearing an Aboriginal flag pin to show solidarity with Indigenous people on social justice issues, and a blonde haired, blue eyed person of Aboriginal descent who wears that same flag pin to show everyone that they are, indeed, of Aboriginal heritage. <br />
<br />
How many people featured in the 'Aboriginal Memes' craze looked like Daniel, or for that matter, Sheena?<br />
<br />
None. <br />
<br />
You remember the ones, mostly men who were obviously Aboriginal with charming little jokes plastered across their faces revealing their secret fetishes for metho, wife-beating and child abuse. I saw two blokes who were dead ringers for Uncles of mine, but nobody like Daniel, nobody like Sheena, and even more surprisingly, nobody like Bindi Cole, Geoff Clarke or even Anita Heiss.<br />
<br />
Funny about that.<br />
<br />
I don't care how many reporters in Australia thinks Geale is an excellent role model for Aboriginal youth - simply saying so doesn't make it a fact. As much as those same reporters bag Mundine as being a poor role model for Aboriginal youth, they only succeed in showing how little they know about what he has done. Mundine has made plenty of mistakes in his life, shot his mouth off more that is no doubt wise for a public figure, but he continues to be at the coalface to talk to those kids who otherwise would be at the greatest risk of becoming just another petty criminal on our streets. The kids whose parents don't care, the ones who if not for his boot camps, his taking an interest, would be on the streets right now, robbing your house or stealing your car. You might not like his method, you might not like his antics, but he does care and he does put back in, all the bloody time, and for all his failings, I wish I'd had a bloke like 'Choc' around when I was a young fella. You see, I've been a black kid in foster care and I can't tell you how good it is to have someone who knows what its like to wear a 'cloak of colour' you can't take off, a heritage that shows on your face and isn't always well received by the rest of the world, but still tells you not to accept less of yourself, and that you're worth something - and to be PROUD.Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-34584749862090562032013-03-06T03:49:00.003-08:002013-03-06T03:49:51.266-08:00Internet...for nowIt has been a few months between my less-than-regular blog posting efforts, and unfortunately I can't promise that I'm permanently back on deck either - internet is a luxury in our house so I always try to make the most of it when I have it.<br />
<br />
And for the next month at least, I'll put it to good use. Or whatever...Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-43243300478642983812012-10-10T06:33:00.003-07:002012-10-10T06:33:36.902-07:00Aborigines - according to Monash University<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Monash University has embarked on a huge undertaking. As of 2013, the <a href="http://www.med.monash.edu.au/indigenous/about.html#fihc" target="_blank">School for Indigenous Health </a>will be open for business, the first dedicated school for Indigenous Health at an Australian University.</div>
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Pretty impressive stuff? Well, no. Today, I had the pleasure of meeting Nola. Nola is not real, but rather a fictional character created for medical students to use in role-playing by the magical minds in charge of cultural awareness at Monash University. Nola even has a back story full of every stereotype of Aboriginal disadvantage you can imagine, in fact, it seems the only tragedy that didn't befall poor Nola was an addiction to sniffing petrol.</div>
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Nola has a hard life. Her partner is of course a violent drunk who beats on her (twice in the short story no less!) and steals her money. Initially, she is living in a home with 10 people, in an extended family situation, however she recently escaped the domestic violence with her three children. The four of them are currently living in a two bedroom house, in fact, sharing it with two other people (more overcrowding, just in case you didn't pick up on it the first time). Nola also unfortunately has Diabetes (type 2), but is eating a very poor diet and taking no medication. She is unable to eat much fruit (attributed to the high cost and difficulty with transport) and instead her diet consists of bread, jam, tea and fast food. Of course, adding to her health and domestic abuse woes, her fifteen year old daughter is also quite a handful. To again pay homage to a myth, she has stopped going to school and is also smoking cigarettes. Not to be outdone, the youngest daughter suffers from a chronic ear infection as well. </div>
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What you might be surprised to learn about Nola, is that she did not escape from one remote community to another. No, Nola went from Echuca to Preston. I kid you not.</div>
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For those not familiar with Victorian geography, Preston is less than 10 kilometres from the Melbourne CBD, and Echuca is on the Victorian side of the NSW Border. Neither suffer from the perils of extreme remoteness, in fact both towns are lucky enough to be positioned on major carriageways for transportation of goods. Echuca, being the far less populated town, even has an Aldi - the home of low low prices on everything. However, it appears that in the halls of Monash, myth becomes fact - ALL Aboriginal people aren't able to buy affordable fruit and vegetables due to the exorbitant costs of transportation, location be damned. Our budding medical students are asked to forgo common sense, logic and fact (the stuff we hope they ARE learning while they are in there) and accept any nonsensical statement as truth - as long as it comes under the Aboriginal banner. Should a student dare to question any of the logic, or the offensiveness of such stereotyping, they will quickly be dismissed as being 'ignorant of Aboriginal culture' by their classmates, or worse, branded a racist.</div>
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This has to stop. </div>
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The new School for Indigenous Health is going to take current teaching practices (like the racist drivel in the fictional Nola patient story above) and make some alterations to form their new curriculum. I was not surprised to see that the Director of Research on this new 'make it up as you go along' venture is none other than Kerry Arabena.</div>
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<img alt="Kerry Arabena, co-chairwoman of the National Congress of Australia's First Peoples." height="222" src="http://images.theage.com.au/2010/07/22/1707950/420kerry-420x0.jpg" width="320" /> </div>
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Seeing as Ms Arabena wouldn't know what it is like to be a black skinned Aboriginal man, I'll give her a bit of a heads up - we don't appreciate being painted as perpetrators of violence. It shocks me to think that those people who have found it their duty to inform the rest of the country about our culture, and from the halls of academia no less, are churning out garbage like this. It feels a little racist to be honest, and that is something that a University would normally frown upon - well, at least that is what I used to think, but it seems as long as you prefix your racial stereotyping and racism with the word 'Aboriginal' and do it under the guise of 'cultural awareness', anything goes. And just for the record, in case you're dreaming up new fictional case studies over there at Monash, we're not all child predators either. I'm glad you didn't add that one in on poor old Nola, I think it would have set me right off.<br />
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Just in case anyone from Monash is listening, I'd like you to do me a favour. Several months ago, a family member contacted your Yulendj Indigenous Engagement people to ask you to remove a picture that includes my niece that you, to this day, continue to display on your Facebook <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Yulendj-Indigenous-Engagement-at-Monash-University/364807865533?ref=ts&fref=ts" target="_blank">page</a>. I'd like you to finally respect the wishes of a mother and her daughter and take the picture down. It is dishonest to imply that the students pictured in your photo attend your institution. My niece attended an Open Day that your University held, but is not and has not ever been an enrolled student at any of your campuses (in fact, she is still finishing high school), yet I notice that you've ensured she is wearing some of your easily identifiable apparel and you've placed her front and centre. You were told politely that you did not have permission to display her image publicly, and no release was signed to allow you to do so. </div>
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In the time you spent removing comments questioning your actions from public view, you could have just taken down the photo and done the right thing. Instead, you now come across as exploitative, and unashamedly so. </div>
Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-45810420716456810922012-10-04T11:01:00.001-07:002012-10-04T11:01:46.696-07:00That article on The DrumSeveral people have sent me links and asked me to read a <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/unleashed/4281772.html" target="_blank">recent article</a> posted on The Drum by Kerryn Pholi and I'm happy to say that last night I finally got there - and there I stayed until the early hours.<br />
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It was an interesting article, and I also tried to read some of the comments to it, but I got something much bigger from it than I expected - I am now a fan of Thomas Sowell. I had never heard of him until I started reading the article and clicked on that link, but, as soon as I did I became hooked. He challenges the thinking on race based privilege without any emotion or personal issues clouding the facts, and I only wish I'd been given the chance to read some of his works in high school. <br />
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But, back to the article.<br />
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I'm glad Ms Pholi made the decision to write her piece, but happier still that she allowed it to become part of the public debate. One of the most important things we need to do as a country is to have an open and uncensored dialogue going around the issues that we have with regard to race-based legislation, preferences and funding. We need to be real about the outcomes we've achieved, be honest with ourselves, and not be afraid to talk about the problems we have created.<br />
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Of the negative Drum comments on the article, I found a couple of recurring 'themes' that I want to talk about a little more. First, the notion that the article and its contents somehow labels all Aboriginal people who identify as such as 'only in it for the money and the benefits'. <br />
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<b>Welcome to the blowback of affirmative action.</b><br />
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You see, simply by virtue of creating a stream of opportunities available to only a small minority of the population - you breed resentment<b> </b>in those who are excluded from taking up those opportunities. You don't have to participate in the largesse to feel the blowback, rather, simply because of physical identity or how you identify yourself to others, you are forever guilty by association. That is the price we will continue to pay for as long as there is preferential treatment for Aboriginal people and benefits for a select few based solely on racial identity alone.<br />
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Most Aboriginal people have probably experienced that annoying situation where your pride in an achievement, or possession of something you have worked hard to own has been dismissed as 'trappings of the freebies for Aboriginals' or similar. Been there, done that a million times over. Why any Aboriginal person would want their child to go through high school being taunted about the extra money they don't get from Abstudy is beyond me, but as long as we demand that Abstudy exist, our kids will spend another generation having their hard work and achievements dismissed at a time when we need them to find self-esteem and build pride in their abilities the most.<br />
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The other troubling notion I came across was the barely concealed outrage that someone would dare to burn their 'Certificate of Aboriginality'. I don't know if people are looking to feel or be offended but please, don't give such a divisive document any credibility. As someone who went through quite a struggle to get that same piece of paper, I support Ms Pholi in her action. We are not talking about a sacred document here, in fact, quite the opposite. Mine you hold on a slight angle for the best reading - a document that, like a piece of art, tells a story all in itself. Not a story of my family, or ties to my culture, but another kind of story. One where the issuing authority runs out of blank forms and seemingly cannot locate the master copy. They decide to take one they prepared earlier, and with the help of a 12 year old work experience boy and a bottle of liquid paper, they create the new master copy. Once the liquid paper is dried, it is simply a matter of holding the document in a photocopier on a 45 degree angle and bingo. The mystical magical production line of blank Aboriginality application forms is revealed. <br />
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Most people are aware that an Aboriginal child is not given a special certificate at birth that confirms their identity, rather, Confirmations of Aboriginality are applied for and granted in a way that is not regulated, and often arbitrary. I feel more pride in my Medicare card than I do my Certificate of Aboriginality - and I say that to be factual, not inflammatory. A Certificate of Aboriginality does not mean you are Aboriginal. All it means is that some people signed off to say it is so. Similarly, being denied that same certificate does mean you are not Aboriginal. There is no oversight that ensures that the applications granted or denied hold up to any scrutiny, so it is a process that is ultimately without respect. Over the years we've had our scandals with the system. Rather than address the shortcomings - that to all but the most heavily invested are apparent - we've decided to pretend none exist. We've allowed the certification process to become the great joke that it is. And that is the continuing price we pay for keeping our heads in the sand and demanding we know better. Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-16782566930128304602012-10-02T21:51:00.001-07:002012-10-02T21:51:54.088-07:00Catching up - it may take awhileMy apologies first to anyone who is waiting on an email back. I have quite a few sitting backed up and lots to go over so it may take a little while.<br />
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As the gods of technology would have it, my laptop is finally back in action at the same time as school holidays are going on here, so please bear with me. Family always comes first and despite how exciting it is to have the internet at my fingertips again, I did make promises that I have every intention of keeping - even if one of them requires me wearing boardshorts in public and braving the questionable waters of the local pool. Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-10276931341432318342012-08-13T02:25:00.000-07:002012-08-13T02:25:38.686-07:00Insight - that Aboriginality showNow that the dust has settled a little after the airing of the show, I'm ready to once again throw my 2c into the mix.<br />
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When I was approached to do the piece with Insight, what initially made the offer attractive was the chance to have an open debate on the issue. The part that sealed the deal was knowing I would get to hear arguments on both sides. For so long now I've been waiting for that opinion or some wise words that will let me finally understand where 'the other side' is coming from. I've heard it all from the 'coffee in a cup' argument to the 'it's a spiritual thing' spin. Unfortunately, nothing I heard that night changed my mind. <br />
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What I did witness was an amazing display. I watched young, white identifiers roundly proclaim their connection to, and knowledge of, their 'culture', then turn around not five minutes later and abuse Aboriginal culture by speaking over an Elder. I don't know what this mystical 'culture' is that these identifiers are on about, but if they were hoping to display an innate understanding of Aboriginal culture that night, then they missed the mark by a mile.<br />
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Once upon a time, the paler activists were an asset to the Aboriginal cause. Now, they have become a liability. Sprouting bullshit such as 'our white skin is a result of the rape of the colonisers', they are no longer laughable and tolerable in small doses - they are promoting a view of life that just continues to perpetuate the victim mentality and does their cause no favours. When you point out to them that their identifying side of the family have continued to choose to marry white people willingly for longer than their living lifetime, and not as part of some forced assimilation program, you will be met with astonishment or indignation. They don't like the facts getting in the way of a good catchphrase, and it is this sort of lazy indignation that has to go. <br />
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The other reason the pale activists are well past their use-by-date is their lack of caring for the big issues. Where once upon a time they used their skills to assist at the grassroots and their voices to advocate and agitate through media for equality and basic human rights for suffering blacks, their voices have now become self serving and narrow to their own interests - be it Native Title, Arts Funding or whatever their pet passion is in the Industry. It was hard not to become enraged when bringing up the living conditions of some of the children on missions or in remote communities, only to have the subject changed time and time again to a pet passion topic. I thought people would say 'oh my god, I had no idea this was going on'. I mean, the reason they've ignored it so long in favour of things like Treaties and Land Rights was surely because they were just unaware, right? Turns out instead, they don't want to hear about it. Their racial identity and support of that is far more important than some kids, far away from their circle in a place like the N.T having a sexually transmitted disease at 5. <br />
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Over and over again in the last few weeks I've heard so many people asking the same question. Where are these so-called benefits? As if their ignorance of the facts or reluctance to take up said benefits is proof absolute that there is no so called 'benefits in identifying'. While it is true that simply being granted your Proof of Aboriginality does not give you immediate financial benefits or access to a magical payment stream, that does not take away from the fact that every year, $3.5 billion in Government funding is disappearing under the guise of race based benefits available only to Aboriginal people. That doesn't include the privately funded Scholarships or initiatives that target race specific disadvantage, which I won't even attempt to put a dollar figure on. Where are the benefits? Everywhere. If you want to paint a picture or write a book or travel to somewhere arty, try the various race specific awards, or the Arts Council for big chunks of money like Anita got for her book. Don't stress about some poor black from out bush coming in to steal away a share of it either. The Industry has done a brilliant job of keeping the poor ones poor and out of sight, mostly illiterate and uninterested in what they are missing out on, so it is exceptionally rare for someone like that to even attempt to get in on the goodies. What they all learnt a long time ago is that for the funding tap to stay on, a certain number of Aboriginal people have to be suffering. Nothing turns the tap on harder than starving or dying kids, so each year, we have to make sure that there is another sad story to achieve our goals. We don't ask that your family suffer, only those already doing it tough. <br />
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Scholarship discussion on the show was where things became quite interesting. I had one very educated fellow pointing out the extreme disadvantage of some of the people he had worked with on Aboriginal scholarships. They had suffered such horrendous race based disadvantage like - coming from a single parent family, or living in a small outback town - such discrimination based on their race meant that these opportunities given to them were well deserved, and without question, they are the most needy of Aboriginal children. The other great thing about so many of these scholarship recipients, we were told, was the fact that such a high percentage of them go back and work in the community. How great does that sound? Pretty good, until you realise that what you're thinking a 'community' is - well, that's not really what they had in mind. I mean, Liverpool is a community, right? Canberra is also a community isn't it? Maybe not ones full of black Aboriginal kids with bloated stomachs and weeks old sores on their arms and legs, but it is a community. Not the progress we were all thinking of, but nevermind. The only ones we're ripping off are the kids who live in conditions not fit for a dog, and since they aren't getting on social media sites to tell their stories, they apparently don't exist and therefore are not worthy of attention, discussion or adequate funding. <br />
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I remember Bess Price once saying 'I want what she has for my children' with regard to Larissa Behrendt and her life of comparable privilege. Instead of people reaching out and offering help, or asking why it is that her children have a life that is polar opposite to someone like Larissa, people instead chose to vilify Bess for her words. They took that very privilege they have been given, their superior educations given to them in the name of progress for the very people Bess represents, and used it to try to rip her to shreds in the media. Labelled in this last week or so as a 'grub' by one, a 'simple minded blackfella' by another, time and time again I watched as people who demanded respect for their identity resorted to shameful personal attacks on a woman whose only crime was to speak her mind and disagree with their point of view. It came as no surprise that Chris Graham, of the 'grub' comment fame, was not only spared negative widespread coverage of his behaviour, but in addition, at no point was his job working for a publication of the NSW Aboriginal Land Council ever under threat because he expressed such an opinion. It's no wonder so many people are confused about what they can and can't say these days. <br />
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For anyone who was wondering, I did get a cab that night in the end. SBS had some really great staff who made sure that I'd have to eat my words on that one - they even managed to get a driver who didn't take the long way when he knew I hadn't been to Sydney in 15 years, turned out to be a really top bloke too.Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com45tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-27671346952954085642012-07-26T05:53:00.001-07:002012-07-26T05:58:38.542-07:00Conflict of interest? Only for the whites...Meet Mick. <br />
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<a href="http://www.dpcd.vic.gov.au/__data/assets/image/0006/112497/DPCD_Indig_Summit_2012-10.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Two participants at the Summit" border="0" height="219" src="http://www.dpcd.vic.gov.au/__data/assets/image/0006/112497/DPCD_Indig_Summit_2012-10.jpg" title="Economic Development Summit" width="263" /></a> <br />
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If you've read any of my previous posts, you'll know he's the pale fellow on the left. <br />
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A man of many talents, Mick is an Aboriginal Elder, Traditional Owner, <a href="http://www.ngargawarendj.com/index.htm" target="_blank">Business Owner</a> and also holds several important positions the Indigenous Industry. He is on the Board at <a href="http://www.mtbuller.com.au/Resort-Management3/Resort-Management2/Organisation/The-Board" target="_blank">Mt Buller</a>, the Board of <a href="http://www.ntsv.com.au/who/index.php?t=2" target="_blank">Native Title Services Victoria</a> (NTSV), and a Council Member of the <a href="http://www.dpcd.vic.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0010/92836/Council-member-biographies-as-at-February-2012.pdf" target="_blank">Victorian Aboriginal Heritage Council (VAHC).</a> <br />
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Not bad for a man who didn't find out he had Aboriginal heritage until he was 25.<br />
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Since 2006, groups all over the state of Victoria have been scrambling to achieve what is known as 'RAP' status (which stands for <a href="http://www.dpcd.vic.gov.au/indigenous/aboriginal-heritage-council/registered-aboriginal-parties" target="_blank">Registered Aboriginal Party</a>). Having RAP status is a pretty big deal. It allows the group granted RAP status the right to be involved in Cultural Heritage Management of a particular area. <br />
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So what is this Cultural Heritage Management?<br />
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Well, let's pretend for a moment that we're a Property Developer. We purchase a large parcel of land on which to build a housing estate, and begin the necessary steps to get approval. Part of this approvals process involves getting a CHMP (Cultural Heritage Management Plan), and for this, we need to approach the local group who have RAP status. They will in turn, send out someone to come and assess the land, and prepare a report. If any Aboriginal 'artefacts' are found on the land, a CHMP sets out how these 'artefacts' are to be managed. This can involve anything from having to pay site supervisors (from the RAP) to come and oversee the work while it takes place, to moving them to a local museum, to just ignoring them - and everything in between. It can be a long, often expensive process or alternatively, it can be a joke. Sometimes, it's both.<br />
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The original promise of the Aboriginal Heritage Act of 2006 was to allow Aboriginal people to be involved in preserving their heritage and culture, to provide protection to our most sacred sites. The reality is, in most cases, it has done completely the opposite. <br />
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To apply for RAP status, you will need to engage the assistance of two specific groups. Native Title Services (for help getting the claim off the ground) and second, the Victorian Aboriginal Heritage Council (who make the decision on who does, and does not, get RAP status). You may be surprised to know that many of the successful RAP applications that have gone through to date have come from 'Traditional Owners' who serve on the boards of one or both of these organisations. Conflict of interest? Ah, thems just whitefella words.<br />
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Is it any wonder so many of our pale-skinned, so called 'Elders' or 'Traditional Owners' also classify themselves as experts in Cultural Heritage, and often have side businesses that are dedicated to managing it for a hefty fee? <br />
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Mick, as we discovered earlier, is part of the NTSV and VAHC cheer squad. His 'Taungurung' people received RAP status for a large area, <a href="http://www.dpcd.vic.gov.au/__data/assets/pdf_file/0008/35774/Taungurung_-wv-03SEP09.pdf" target="_blank">originally applying</a> for land from just outside Healesville, all the way across to Euroa and taking in places like Mansfield, Broadford, Lancefield, Kilmore and Heathcote. Mick has claimed often and with great passion about his strong connection to country and has spoken emotionally about the dispossession of his ancestors from their 'cultural home'. Surprisingly, it is a place he today, chooses not to live. Instead, you will find him living in Gippsland, far away from his 'stolen land'. <br />
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If you have a spare few minutes, I highly recommend this video interview by Mick:-<br />
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http://www.cv.vic.gov.au/stories/possum-skin-cloaks/11511/interview-taungurung-elder-mick-harding/<br />
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Don't be fooled by the Message Stick in his hand. Like most Fauxborigines, he's using it wrong and paying it no respect. It is in his hand not for some deeper spiritual or cultural reason, but, as a prop to fool unwitting watchers into believing this guy knows his stuff. Cultural credibility that he manufactured in his own workshop, no doubt.<br />
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Note also the Possum Skin Cloak draped across his knee. While happy to crap on about the patterns on the cloak, Mick is not so forthcoming in this particular interview about the ancient techniques used to create such a piece of art. Luckily for us, his clan were more than happy to oblige:-<br />
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<img alt="MargaretCloak.jpg" height="240" src="http://taungurung.net/files/MargaretCloak.jpg" title="" width="320" /><br />
<i>(I can't be sure, the picture is just a little unclear to make out, but, I believe what we are seeing here is the use of the electrical burning device, made famous by I believe Ngyumbanirr Pyrographic back in the 1400's. Again, to ensure cultural authenticity, just like we used to do in the old days, the skins are from NZ possums)</i><br />
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I remember an Elder once sitting down with me, many years ago, and talking about a possum expedition they made in her youth. In their bark canoe, they travelled for 40 days and 40 nights until they finally reached Auckland, surviving on what little rainwater they caught along the way and the meagre rations of berries and nuts they took with them.<br />
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Once in Auckland, they spent a full week hunting and gathering skins into the night and early hours of the following day - each of them sleeping only four hours before resuming the difficult and laborious job as soon as first light would hit.<br />
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When they had 40 skins, they rested. The following day, they loaded up their canoe and attempted to set off with their haul into the wide blue expanse. They got no more than a few feet out when their canoe began to take in alarming amounts of water. Again and again they tried, always with the same result. Furrowed brows ensued and debate raged about how best to get the precious bounty back home. That is, until one of the Elders stepped forward and proclaimed 'Let's just take a fucking plane back!'.<br />
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See how easy it is to spin a little cultural bullshit? All you have to do is waffle. <br />
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I like how Mick waffles. Most Fauxborigines, when talking about their heritage or culture, will often resort to this very same trick. They talk in circles, often spending an inordinate amount of time describing small, inconsequential things. Like a shield they once saw, or an Elder they spoke to. Often, they'll use a small smattering of an Aboriginal language they've revived in a windowless room in a University to punctuate their speech with more credibility. It is quite an art form, but ultimately, they do horrendous damage to a culture they have no right to speak of. <br />
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How much are you truly honouring a culture when you step on tradition to make a buck?<br />
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For all those Elders out there, who stay on their country, devote their lives to making their communities a better place, who worry endlessly about their people who are suffering, I take my hat off to you and offer nothing but my respect and support. For too long you have sat unnoticed, uncared for, and unrecognised while self-appointed opportunists claim you don't exist and step in to take your place. It is time to say, no more.Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com366tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7857816837745437474.post-83727354628232445842012-06-03T07:36:00.000-07:002012-06-03T07:36:27.842-07:00Peddling the easy answersRemember Brad Goodman?<br />
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Brad was a self-help guru, who found fortune and fame peddling a bunch of easy answers to a gullible people. Although simply a character in The Simpsons, like many other characters from that beloved cartoon, it is not hard to find people in real life who could play that same part.<br />
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Like Jack. <br />
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After his recent appearance on Australian Story, Jack Manning Bancroft is riding a wave of public adoration. Touted as everything from a future Indigenous leader, to an Aussie inspiration, overwhelmingly, the feedback coming in from his TV appearance has been extremely positive. If you listen to the viewers, he's achieving huge success with Indigenous youth, turning the tide of low expectations and bringing high profile supporters and donations to disadvantaged Aboriginal kids.<br />
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At least, that's what Australian Story told them to swallow. <br />
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Jack runs an outfit called AIME - Australian Indigenous Mentoring Experience. He teams Uni students (both Indigenous and non-Indigenous) up with Indigenous students, to mentor them through High School, for around an hour a week (it must be an action packed hour..). It is supposed to assist with raising the rates of Indigenous students finishing Year 12, and encourage more Indigenous students to go on further, to University studies and a brighter future.<br />
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The outfit is funded by both Universities and corporate sponsors (such as Rio Tinto & Google), no doubt as they feel it is a worthwhile cause. Even Thorpey is on board, and he's putting his money (well, to be technically correct, the money of his donors) where his mouth is. <br />
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But I can still hear that nagging little cartoon voice of Lisa Simpson. You see, like Brad Goodman, Jack Manning Bancroft and AIME are peddling a bunch of easy answers. <br />
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In operation for almost 8 years now, you may be surprised to know that AIME does not operate in a single remote area. Heck, they don't even operate in the Northern Territory, Western Australia or South Australia. You may be surprised to find that in Victoria, they've chosen to work with schools that not only have some of the lowest percentages of Indigenous students in the state, but, they've also chosen schools that are some of the most expensive and prestigious. Schools like Scotch College (who do give two scholarships a year to boys from the N.T), Trinity College and Xavier College. Melbourne Grammar School is also on their list, as is Parade College. Looking at the list of public schools that they work with, it appears the maps past Hampton Park are not in existence. A shame really, as if they were to talk with the Principal at say, Bairnsdale Secondary College in Gippsland, they would find that not only are there schools with a high percentage of Indigenous students, but, that those same students would benefit from any help on offer, as they are some of the neediest and lowest performing in the state.<br />
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It is much easier to mentor a young affluent white boy from Scotch, who identifies as Indigenous, than a struggling black kid from the sticks who doesn't dare dream as big as finishing High School with a passing grade. It is much nicer to sit down and discuss the merits of various Universities and the trivialities of campus life with a young kid in a crisp, smart uniform than to try to elevate the aspirations of a child whose parents don't care enough to ensure he is well fed, let alone well dressed and bathed.<br />
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For eight years, it appears Jack has deceived himself, and, the rest of us. He's told us he's making a change, and, more importantly, he's Closing the Gap.<br />
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He is not.<br />
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Instead, he has created a divide. Widened the gap between the haves and the have-nots. While the wealthy Identifiers are improving their outcomes from good or great, to fantastic, the neediest have lost ground. Hell bent on convincing ourselves that things are improving, we place people like Jack on a pedestal. He tells people what they want to hear, and asks only that you throw money his way in return for his good deeds and innovative ideas. Like the citizens of Springfield, we can't get enough of our Brad Goodman and his easy answers.<br />
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I don't doubt that there have been some hard luck kids who have been helped by AIME. I also don't doubt that they've done some good work as a result of their programs. Heck, I don't even doubt that some of the kids they've helped have had dark skin. What I do take issue with, is allowing what appears to be a genuine fear of failure to dictate your policy and programs, resulting in the help again going not to those most in need. <br />
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Let's say Joe Average decides to start an organisation to help Aboriginal children. Joe wants to be able to get donations coming in by the bucketload, so, he looks around the other organisations who claim to do the same thing as him, and makes his pitch even better than theirs. Red Cross say they will lift literacy rates by 10% among 5-12 year old Aboriginal children by 2015. To get more donations than Red Cross, Joe markets his organisation to potential donors as being ready, willing and able to take that number to 25%. <br />
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This is where things get tricky. Instead of working harder or smarter with old theory, or implementing some new, previously untried revolutionary program to work with struggling kids, Joe simply takes his half-baked organisation to selected areas, excluding any schools with kids that have consistently poor outcomes or a high percentage of low-income earners as residents. He works with a small group of children who identify as Indigenous (often several generations removed from a single full-blood ancestor), offering nothing new or exciting, but, simply uses their natural progress to fiddle with the averages and achieve his goals on paper.<br />
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We're a nation that likes facts and figures, but, we're a population that likes them spoon-fed to us. We certainly seem to prefer it when someone else tells us what conclusion we are meant to draw from statistics and percentages, if our current mindset is anything to go by. Indigenous specific statistics are no exception. In the twenty years from 1986 to 2006, the Indigenous population <b>doubled</b>. While part of this is attributed to natural rates of procreation, the Australian Bureau of Statistics states that this staggering increase is also due in part to people identifying as Indigenous where in previous counts, they did not.<br />
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The boom in our numbers has been great for those trying to 'Close the Gap'. All of a sudden, gains can be made, by little more than a tick in the box. We can all reassure ourselves that we're going forward, not backwards, because the statistics don't lie. As a percentage, we have more middle income and high income Indigenous households than ever before. As a nation, we've made serious ground when it comes to preventable childhood diseases ravaging Indigenous youngsters.<br />
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But that's when you look at the nation as a whole. When you take the statistics and break them down, you see the real picture. Urban Indigenous populations are making all the gains. The remote communities make little gain, none, or in some cases, are going backwards. While their often fair-skinned, urban counterparts are achieving on par in almost all areas with their non-identifying peers (the gold standard we apply when we speak of a Gap), the improvements of which we so often speak and celebrate are just not being delivered to those who need it the most. Those who were struggling then, are most likely to still be struggling now. My experiences with remote communities have done nothing but strengthen this conviction. The overwhelming poverty, dysfunction and suffering remains at the same levels year after year for many remote communities, but to hear the city slicker fauxborigines speak, we're doin' fine. We hear self-appointed Elders constantly tell us the importance of Welcome to Country ceremonies and demand their performance as a mark of 'respect', yet never think to question why they have placed so much focus on a shallow tokenism, when children are being abused and neglected. <br />
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Instead of helping their poorer, blacker cousins, often, the fauxborigine exploits them for their own gain. <br />
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We are allowed to get upset when intellectually impaired children are excluded from across the board testing (Naplan) in an effort for a school to post an artificially inflated score. It is unquestionably wrong for a school to discriminate against disabled children in order to appear as though their students are outperforming their expectations. Why are we so afraid to apply the same logic when discussing Aboriginal students? At present, should you dare to point out that disadvantaged, dark skinned Aboriginal children are being excluded in much the same way from programs such as AIME to keep their success rates high, you will be denounced loudly by every fauxborigine with a Twitter account. Accusations of racism if you admit to being non-Indigenous, and, a perpetrator of lateral violence if you happen to be black like I am. Personally, I despise a term like lateral violence being levelled at me by someone with pale skin. The term implies that the accuser and myself are on an equal footing, when clearly, we are not. I cannot hide what I am, they can and do. Even if they have 'identified with their culture practically from birth' (a readily coined phrase by many in the 'Industry'), it makes no difference. They demand every Caucasian person in Australia admit that they are the beneficiaries of White Privilege, yet refuse to accept that simply by virtue of their own pale skin, they too are the recipients of this very same Privilege. Hypocrisy at its finest.<br />
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During his TV appearance, Jack compares himself to an Undercover Cop, with regards to his Aboriginality. He explains that people cannot tell he is Aboriginal just by looking at him (just as one cannot tell an Undercover Cop in plain clothes is a Police Officer), and because of this unique position he holds, he is able to permeate the various layers of society and discover racism across all walks of life (and of course, is personally offended by it - give me a break). Lucky him. I don't know a single black skinned and obviously Aboriginal person who wouldn't mind trading skins for a day so he can really learn what it's like. Perhaps then he will stop making ridiculous and insulting statements and realise just how good he has it. <br />
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Overhearing a racist joke or comment is so far removed from being rejected dozens of times for rental properties or jobs for no other reason than the way you look. Seeing an Aboriginal person be refused service by someone who just served you without problem is light years away from being the person denied that simple courtesy again and again. Having two people in primary school call you a name after you told them you are Aboriginal is a walk in the park compared to having that label applied to you almost every day, and that label sticking with you long past the days of the schoolyard, without having to utter a word about your heritage to anyone.<br />
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I hope Jack will decide to prove me wrong and start working with impoverished and remote Aboriginal communities. It will be much harder than working with the kids from a private school, but I can promise you that it is infinitely more rewarding, and I warn you that it will at times, break your heart. Black Steam Trainhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08635159199813684560noreply@blogger.com28