I’m so fired up. I’ve just been to the National Justice Festival.
Picture this: a big mob of young adults really trying to nut out how we can make a positive change and fight injustice in the world. There were inspiring guest speakers, amazing musicians and plenty of opportunities to participate in creative workshops and small-group discussions. Towards the end though, I became worried that when I got home no-one would understand my passion for social justice, and that if I tried to explain I would just get that glazed-over look and eventually my energy would subside and things would go on as if nothing had happened.
My housemates got an earful when I got back. Throughout the week discussions in our kitchen revolved around all types of justice – Aboriginal health, the environment, refugee rights, anti-terrorism laws and workplace conditions. I talked to my family. I chatted with my mates at running club. And soon I realised that most people do have a social conscience and, given the opportunity, want to help people who are suffering. Australians showed this when the tsunami struck over a year ago.
But I’m trying to figure out how I can make a connection with the people I’m helping.
I don’t want to just give a donation to some faraway place –– there’s no relationship there. I want to touch people’s lives, and be touched in return, otherwise it’s like paying a bill.
I remember the words of Ted Lovett the Aboriginal elder who welcomed us to the Festival. Ted is from the Wathaurong people, the original inhabitants of the land where the Festival was held, near Lake Wendouree in Ballarat. When Ted welcomed us he also gave us a bit of a wake up call saying that this country still hadn’t got it, that we’d forgotten the need for reconciliation. And later, after another guest, Bishop Kevin Dowling, had told us about the AIDS crisis in South Africa, Ted’s voice rose again. “Without disrespect Bishop,” he said, “there’s plenty of work to be done in our own backyard.”
I don’t often think about Aborigines in Australia. There aren’t any in my street and I don’t have any Aborigines as friends. So I was thankful to have the time and space to sit down and just chat with those who were there. I listened to the beautiful songs of Shellie Morris, a talented singer-songwriter from Darwin , and then we created and our own song and sang for the big group. A young Aboriginal man who had just finished high school in Melbourne drew me a picture and I listened to him explain the significance of his drawing. I was impressed by his strong bond with the land and his people. In fact, I think I envied him. Why should this spiritual connection exist only for indigenous people? Maybe I need to connect with the people of this land before I can connect with the land itself.
One of the guest speakers who had a strong sense of place was Regina Lane, co-ordinator of Australian Political Ministry Network. She talked about the widening gap between the people and the government and painted a bleak picture of Australian society: the climate of fear surrounding the new terrorism laws, the shameful level of Aboriginal health, our worsening workers’ rights and our inhumane treatment of refugees. Regina recalled the time she joined a protest at Woomera detention centre and her distress at seeing the people under such conditions. “They yelled at us through the wire, ‘We are not criminals.’”
Regina talked of pain closer to home too, about the time her family parish church was forced to close down. It was jam packed for the final mass. Regina sat in tears next to her parents. She learnt then what it meant to belong to a place, to belong to a people. But she was angry that her church was being treated like a business, simply being closed because it wasn’t paying its way. After her speech, the quiet young Aboriginal man who had drawn the picture earlier made the comment that although he did not share her religion he shared Regina’s strong connection with place and people. Perhaps this is what other Australians are looking for in reconciling their sense of belonging. But this needs guidance from our leaders.
I was angry, and frustrated because my anger seemed in vain. But after one line from Bishop Kevin Dowling I felt better. He said that sometimes it’s good to be angry. When we see someone suffering from injustice and we are outraged it is because our love makes us feel as if the injustice is happening to us. There is empathy in our anger. My anger was being transformed into hope.
But how can we channel our anger and hope to fight injustice? Another guest speaker, Mark Yettica Paulson, CEO of the Australian Indigenous Leadership Centre, said we need to be clever and creative. He explained that being clever means having a high sense of reality, knowing “what is” and being highly informed about our situation. Being creative, Mark said, is having a high sense of possibility, exploring the question “what if” and then sharing our dreams. But if we have one without the other, we may be clever but we will be locked by the constraints of reality, or, if we are only creative, we will be rendered ineffectual by airy-fairy ideas. Mark’s speech focused my hope and helped me organise my thoughts.
Mark also cautioned about the distraction of materialism and stressed the importance of living with purpose. “Don’t get five to ten years down the track and look around and ask, ‘What is all this stuff? What am I doing with my life?’” He said that in any given situation there are two questions: one, “Will I do this or not?” (for example: will I buy a plasma TV?), and two, “Which option will I choose?” (the Samsung or the LG?). Marketers ignore the first question. They target us directly on the second; trying to buy our loyalty. Once we have pledged our allegiance to a certain company, (“I’m a Sony man, myself”) we can then live without questioning our actions at all. If we are to live with purpose, however, we need to reclaim both these questions and think critically about our choices.
That’s what I’m doing now – thinking. But there are many causes worth fighting for. If I try to fight them all alone my spark will fizzle out. So, here is my action plan. When I get angry about injustice I will allow the anger to come. I will let the anger go. I will find out as much as I can about the situation and share it with my friends and family. I will reflect and pray. My spirit will soar into the realm of dreams where anything is possible. I will plan and scheme and dream and make a connection. And then I will act.
