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My social media feeds were awash with posts from my friends — many of whom are queer, disabled or on low incomes — worrying about their futures and the future of our earth. I saw countless posts with people saying 'That's it, I'm moving to NZ'. I completely understand the desire people had to give up — I felt it too.
I told one of my fiercely right-wing Kiwi uncles that if Bob Hawke were elected leader of the ALP I'd follow him through cannon-fire, and surprisingly won his (grudging) respect. For he was a man's man, and so was my then hero.
In 2016, when some of my friends told me they weren't going to vote, I was aghast. I was so keen to get voting that the night before the election, I made a Word document to practise the order of my preferences. Fast forward to last week, when I couldn't remember which Saturday the election was on and feared I had accidentally missed it.
I do not believe that most people do accept these violations of dignity, these instigations of shame. But the fact that we as a nation have tolerated these settings for so long makes it look like neoliberalism has crept into our souls, that we accept the institutionalisation of fear and shame.
This was the nerve touched by Bill Shorten when he spoke of his mother's lost opportunities. Women who shared their own mothers' stories in response under the #MyMum hashtag did so with an acute awareness of both the gulf that separated them from their mothers, and the entrenched structural discrimination that remains.
We can tell the Morrison government has no interest in Indigenous affairs because, apart from some money for suicide prevention programs (albeit less than half that requested), its budget showed a series of cuts. There is a lot of unfinished business to be addressed before it makes sense to adopt a voice to Parliament in the Constitution.
A recent survey found one in three women under 30 are reconsidering having children because of fears of climate change. There are young people telling their parents they have a choice between voting for the Coalition, and getting grandkids. Yet the public is not waiting with bated breath for the result on election night. They are just be waiting.
No Friend But the Mountains deservedly won an Australian prize but was considered ineligible for others because the writer was not Australian. The book itself mocks that exclusion. Boochani's years on Manus Island branded him as Australian in the same way African slaves became American by the brand American owners burned on to them.
When refugees write accounts of their lives they usually express gratitude to the nation that has received them. A Child Escapes, in which Francis Deng describes his life from Lost Boy of Sudan to refugee in Kenya to bank employee in Australia, is no exception. Left unsaid, but equally important, is the gift he and other immigrants are to Australia.
It's not just government departments that are making life difficult for those without internet access. Many elderly people have the time and inclination to volunteer for different organisations and causes, but come up against a number of rules that block their ability to give their time.
My JAP informed me I was required to do 21 hours per week of Mutual Obligation activity, in addition to looking for work. They assured me the 21 hours would help me remain focused on the task of finding work. I replied I would now have to stop doing the things that were keeping me motivated to satisfy my Mutual Obligation requirements.
The nationalist values purported to be Australian and to have flowed like blood from Anzac Cove will not do. Australians celebrating Anzac Day this year cannot assume that New Zealanders share all the values that are deemed Australian. Indeed, this Anzac Day New Zealanders might recall Australians to its more authentic meanings.
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