Anyone for Coffee?

Aboriginality, apparently, can be equated to a popular beverage.  

But the analogy currently doing the traps is disingenuous.  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.

So, let’s take one of my personal favourites on a spin.  The old ‘Cup of Coffee’ analogy.  It usually goes something like this:-

“You aren’t really Aboriginal, you look White?”

“I am too Aboriginal.  It’s like Coffee, you don’t stop calling it Coffee just because you put some Milk in it!”

Sounds dandy.  But it’s bullshit.  And here is why they use the analogy.  It is simple, short and invites you not to think.  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.

Does the Coffee analogy meet the standard?   No.  It lazily skips over current and past knowledge to achieve a result that was desired and forced from the outset.  It also fails the ‘word replacement’ test.   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.

I’ll do that now for the Coffee analogy:-

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For tens of thousands of years, there was only Coffee on a large island.  A few hundred years ago, ships began arriving that contained Milk.  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.  Milk became the preferred drink, and sanctions and punishments of all kinds were placed on Coffee for more than a hundred years.  Over time, however, attitudes toward Coffee began to slowly change.  Far from being inferior, perhaps Coffee was an equal beverage to Milk?  

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.  Despite the removal of the sanctions against it, it was still struggling.  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.  Coffee became relegated mostly to the poor areas, and looked down upon despite no longer being legislated as a second class beverage.  

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.  Taxes that were dutifully collected from all were pooled and Billions allocated to address the problem.  The reforms were passed, and people were given money to drink more Coffee.  Coffee needed to be in Universities! Hospitals! Schools!  Having Coffee around had to be normalised, if equality could ever hope to be achieved.

At the same time, it was decided that a definition of what Coffee actually was would need to be decided upon.  It seemed an easy task, but there was an outcry from the city dwellers.  They were drinking Coffee, and although it was not without Milk, it contained Coffee, and this should count.   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.   The pro-Coffee economic reforms needed to help mixed beverages as well, as they saw themselves as fundamentally no different from Coffee.   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.  They also experienced discriminatory attitudes as some of the Milk saw them as ‘tainted’ by Coffee.  A vocal number of mixed beverages did not see themselves as a mixture of Coffee and Milk, but rather, Coffee alone.  Other mixed beverages did not see themselves as Coffee, but rather Milk, and did not want to be forced to identify as Coffee.  Complicating matters was the Billions of dollars in assistance for Coffee on the table, and the mixed beverages had support and numbers.  The mixed beverages, it was decided, would be considered Coffee, but only if they wanted to be.   

Big companies began to commit to drinking a certain percentage of Coffee every day, and so did the Government, Hospitals and Universities.  But things still just weren’t going well for a large percentage of the Coffee, despite all the investment and legislation and money spent.  Coffee when mixed with Milk had found a real niche, and found a far greater acceptance among the Milk.  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.  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.  Most were fond of mixed beverages, so speaking in a way construed negative to them was something they avoided.  So the Coffee sat and suffered in silence instead, for a few more years.  

Around the same time, a new concept emerged called “Coffee Snobbery”.  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.  Coffee Snobbery was both officially and unofficially declared a crime.  

A trend began to emerge among the mixed beverage population.  More and more they claimed to be the victims of Coffee Snobs, and what constituted Coffee Snobbery became harder and harder to define.  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.  After doing a little research, the renegade Milk noticed that Coffee assistance was continually going to mixed beverages in an extremely uneven flow.  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.

This enraged some of the mixed beverages, whose actions had been largely, up until that point, unnoticed.  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.  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.  When the Milk continued to question the laws surrounding Coffee definitions, things began to get ugly.  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.

It ended up being one of the most divisive cases for the island in some time.  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.  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.  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.   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.  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. 

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I wonder if I will ever hear the word ‘Latte’ again and not have a little chuckle inside after this effort. 

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.

Adam Goodes - ensuring racism as a sport

We can all learn a lesson or two from Adam Goodes.  

 

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.  It didn’t need to be like this, but apparently over-reacting has spread like the common cold.

Goodes was the first to fall ill.  During a football match, he heard insults directed at him, one of which was ‘ape’.  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.   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. 

When it turned out that the young girl was a Collingwood supporter, Eddie was next to fall ill.  He was immediately outraged and disgusted, telling all who would listen that he and his club would not tolerate racism.  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.  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.  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’. 

And just what was the crime?  To suggest that Adam Goodes might do well to get on board and promote a musical called ‘King Kong’.   In typical Eddie fashion, he saw a way to make a buck out of a drama.  Who else has done more to make apes famous than Adam Goodes in this country I ask you?  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.  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.  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.

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.  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.  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.

Was all the hysteria worth it?  

It was a 13 year old girl.  A child.  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.   No name she called anybody justifies the treatment she received.  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.  

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.  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’.    I like monkeys, I’m a hairy bloke, and I should be free to use whatever nicknames I like for myself.  I tell my friends to do the same.  It doesn’t mean I’m ignorant of the  ‘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.  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.  Being that I’m easily identifiable as Aboriginal, the cheap shot will usually take the form of a racial slur.  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.    

As for Adam, well, in the end, I think he got what he really wanted.  Before the game, he spoke of Nicky Winmar and his now historic stand against racism.  As a man whose days are numbered at the top of his game, he really wants to be remembered like Nicky was.   He wants a legacy.  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.  Viewing his performance from that angle, I give him an A++.  They’re gonna  love  him.  As for me, I can’t look up to you Adam.  I’m ashamed of the way a child was used as a pawn to achieve your goal, and you should be too. 

All good scams must end

A 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.

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.

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 - Port Phillip 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.

In addition to her exceptional navigational skills, Sonia it appears, has 'the gift' - or is clairaudient, in her words.  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.

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. 

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 Steve 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. 

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.

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.

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. 

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. 

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 yesterday 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.

All the Answers

No, I don’t have them.   

But I hope nobody was seriously expecting I would.  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.

There is no Black Superman coming to save and unite us all who has all the answers.  

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.  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.  

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.  The man who saved them from apartheid and promised them a better tomorrow.  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.  He helped to establish the ANC, so it has his seal of approval and saintly touch, affording it an almost unquestioned morally superior status.  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.

But it wasn’t to be.  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.  Despite his party claiming that they are dedicated to uplifting the  quality of life for the poor,  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 .  

He has just been inaugurated for his second term.  

The problem with wanting to jump behind an icon, whether racial, religious or otherwise,  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.  Jim Jones wasn’t always offering after lecture refreshments of bitter tasting KoolAid  that knocked you down dead.  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.  Parents helped their children drink the foul liquid, then drank it themselves.   

They hadn’t all been unknowingly spiked the night before with mind altering drugs.  They hadn’t been mass hypnotised or told a lie about what flavour that KoolAid was.  Every adult knew that to drink it meant death.  And that is what they did.  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. 

    

Icons and Idols have tremendous power to do great harm.  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.  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.   

Once you hand over that much power, it’s all up to luck whether you wake up in time not to drink that KoolAid.

Who's your mob?

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.

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,  but now is creeping into the mainstream media,  to place a special label on a person and confirm their heritage.  Apparently, all Aboriginal people identify by their tribal groupings nowadays, and use this greeting to identify who they are to other Aboriginal people.  At least, that is the idea they’ve been promoting.  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’.  When asked the question ‘Who’s Your Mob?’, the answer is supposed to be a tribal name.  This allows you to then be referred to as a ‘(insert tribal name) man/woman’ thereafter.

Being ‘culturally aware’ is difficult.  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.  ‘Who’s Your Mob?’ is a perfect example of this.  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.  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. We should be aiming much, much higher than that.

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.  I’m told only the first one is racist, the other, simply ‘cultural awareness’.  

If that is what passes as ‘cultural awareness’, you can take it and shove the whole idea.  I speak, read and understand English at a level you would hardly call remedial.  This is not a skill unheard of for an Aboriginal person to possess, in any location.

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.  This exchange is usually instigated by a nod of the head and nothing more.  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.  Never once, in my many encounters, have I been asked ‘Who’s Your Mob?’.  Not once. When I talk about my family to others, I identify my links through missions, not tribal names or groups.  People will ask what my surname is, or ask for the location where I live or where extended family live, but never,  ever, do I get the NITV style ‘Who’s Your Mob?’

. 

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.  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.  My story is not unique, but neither is it a story that fits all Aboriginal people in this country.  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.  To label ourselves brings the expectation we can be categorised and understood based on that label alone.  Nothing could be further from the truth.    

The culprits aren’t just evil whitey anymore.  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.  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.  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.

Gap Year

It's been awhile, but I'm dusting off the keyboard.

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).

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.

Let the fun and games begin...