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After years of intense debate, Australia has now offered permanent residence to people with Temporary Protection Visas (TPVs), which caused great suffering and were part of a deterrence policy. However, this decision is just an incremental step towards a more humane refugee program that respects secure borders and the humanity of people seeking protection.
A Valentine’s Day present from the Minister for Immigration for those on temporary protection visas is a much-anticipated relief for approximately 19,000 refugees in Australia. And while a solution is welcome for these refugees, there remains around a further 10,000 whose status and future is uncertain.
The plot of Kate Solly’s very enjoyable first novel, Tuesday Evenings with the Copeton Craft Resistance turns on the conflict between good and evil, represented respectively by the generous desire to turn Catholic property over to refugees and the vicious desire to prevent the project by portraying refugees as Muslims and Muslims as sinister and alien.
Peter’s playful, profound love of life ranged from the earth to the skies, and from the oceans to the great mysteries of the universe. It was a love that was grounded in family and community rituals.
Amidst concern for the painful experience of First Nations peoples on Australia Day, and a desire for justice I find myself bouncing between question of moving the date, and all the strands of what the day means and represents.
The Church must speak up to be relevant, but those who seek to ‘speak for the church’ must be brave. They risk exposing themselves to claims of bias unless they stick to a very narrow agenda and speak in extremely measured terms. Yet if they are too bland they risk being irrelevant to the sharp end of political debate and their intervention becomes little more than a symbolic ritual.
To close the year for Eureka Street, the editorial team wanted to nominate who we considered to be the Eureka Street ‘person of the year’ based on who we think somehow embody Eureka Street values.
My name is Farhad Bandesh. For seven-and-a-half years I was not called by my name. The Australian Federal Government took it away and changed my identity to a number. I was COA 060. I am Kurdish and we are a persecuted people.
Mum had unshakeable graciousness, although her hand executing cigarette / ballet pirouettes put the fear of foreign emulsification in brothy ox tongue soups / Strong foundations based on love, respect and loyalty with times of grieving — an empath for a neighbour or relative
In recent years, Australian policies in relation to asylum seekers and refugees have been unnecessarily mean, cruel and disorganised. The election of the Albanese government provides the opportunity for a reset, putting behind us the past mistakes of both Coalition and Labor Governments in the last 20 years.
Change of season is upon us, / hot unseasonal days have drained us, / human sponges squeezed by the hands / of humidity, but the nights are becomingcool, a relief for bodies and minds in need / of withdrawal and replenishment of deep sleep, but in all of this there is some wakefulness, and there are some choristers returned, in these dogwatch hours.
Two weeks ago, Bishop Hilton Deakin died. My memories of him are inextricably tied to the Mass he celebrated in 1999 at St Patrick’s Cathedral in Melbourne, certainly the most emotionally charged event that I have seen there, following the violence orchestrated by the Indonesian military following the Referendum on Independence in East Timor. During the struggle for Independence, many East Timorese had joined the Catholic Church.