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How delightful to see this country's mosques suffused with the scent of frankincense — not just on celebratory days, but always. And what a surprise it is to find that this place in whose proximity Christianity unfolded smells exactly — precisely — like Christmas.
I cannot help but think about the level of cognitive dissonance required to believe you hold not only the rights to an entire holiday, but also the moral high ground, all while occupying buildings built on stolen lands. The migration of this celebration to this continent did not happen in isolation from the violence of invasion and colonisation.
There are a few ways an individual can interact with a public space. The first is to sit in or walk through it while crunching an apple. The second is to inhabit it, grow an apple tree and share it with others. The third is to grow the tree, pick the apples behind your neighbours' backs and sell them to Woolworths for a profit.
As a society we are exposed to more information on how to remove body hair, and minimise wrinkles, than how to identify a toxic or abusive relationship, or how to counter discrimination. My safety, worth, opportunities, and rights should not be determined by the body I was born into.
It is all too easy to make daily choices that negatively affect the environment, and there are many incentives for us to do so — cost, time, social norms. This is where policies like plastic bag bans come in — they change the incentives and not only help us to do the right thing but also to normalise it within our culture.
We can speculate on the reasons for the recent rage against plastic bag bans. We don't like change. We don't like being told what to do. We don't like having to think about alternatives and solutions. But at the heart of it, being mad about this particular inconvenience is about refusing to accept one's part in improving the collective lot. This is the one planet we have. There is no Plan B.
The contrast between success and failure shows that successful independents and minor parties cannot just be based on major party disillusionment, creative election campaigns, or attractive candidates, but also on deep listening to and engaging with their communities which enable a positive and grounded alternative to be offered to voters.
Researchers from Oxford concluded that consumers have significant power to 'deliver environmental benefits on a scale not achievable by producers' by excluding animal products from their diets. Interestingly, this report comes at a time when the uptake of veganism is growing significantly, both globally and in Australia.
If you listen carefully, the sound of each colour can be heard, the scrunch of each mineral discerned, each cadence, a trace of its former life, a finer distinction. Relieved of its cumbersome form, it becomes lighter and mixes with white spirit like a cocktail blast of violets, mauves and ochres, ground to a fine powder and wet with new life.
In perspective, my hair colour really isn't that big of a deal. I don't face institutional discrimination because I'm a redhead. But because of the cultural fascination with red hair, people will always try to project their own ideas about redheadedness onto me. So as I've grown older, I decided to claim this part of my identity for myself.
Huang's article 'What Australia gets wrong about Chinese New Year' caused an uproar, with many comments about the Mandarinisation of Chinese culture. I had a moment of pleasure imagining telling my mother that, according to this writer, she's doing Chinese New Year wrong. My mother has an excellent range of Cantonese epithets.
My astute mother was the first to suspect Maggie of taking and selling my clothes to fund her addiction. After that, my friendship with Maggie fell apart. I began to hate her and wanted nothing to do with her. This year, that all suddenly changed.