On racism in Australia

Dr. Charlie Teo, an Australian-born neurosurgeon of Asian descent, recently gave a speech on being Australian. He addressed the common denial of certain politicians, and in fact of a large segment of Australia’s population, that there is in fact a lot of racism in Australia. He pointed out that you cannot believably state that there is no racism in Australian unless you are of Indian or Arab appearance. I would add to that list Asian or African or Indigenous appearance at the very least too. That is because people of these backgrounds, with phenotypically prominent features in their face, skin colour, clothing, etc. are the ones that are often the recipients of the racism that occurs in Australia. But Australians in general aren’t racist, are they? Australians in general think they can make “non-racist” racist remarks by prefacing a racist statement by the words “I’m not being racist, but…” then following that up with an overgeneralisation or stereotype about a cultural group of people. It is such a common phrase in Australian parlance, really, but the preface doesn’t exonerate the content of the message.

The population of El Salvador is said to be over 99% ‘mestizo’, that is to say there are less than 1% “indigenous” Salvadorians or Mayan and/or pipils. Who in El Salvador does this matter to? No one! Because almost completely the people of El Salvador consider themselves Salvadorians rather than part Mayan with part Spanish ancestry – yet all of us, in varying proportions, are exactly that. You see it in the skin colour and physical features of the people. In terms of identity and culture, however, they call themselves Salvadorians only. Isn’t that a better method?... And yet maybe it isn’t about one method being better or another being worse, but perhaps it’s a cultural thing to think this way.

I remember when I was in Peru for the first time with some Australian-born girls and they were surprised by the way people describe each other in Latin American countries: skin colour, stature, hair colour, eye colours, nose length, personality, and other physical features – mostly in that exact same order! We were often trying to find people within a local hospital we were undertaking a medical school elective in. The oncologist was the white, tall guy, a bit chubby, with black hair, brown eyes, big nose, and was such a lovely man. The gynaecologist was the dark, short guy, who was overweight, had black hair and eyes, and was an arrogant prick. Found these guys in no time with those descriptions! Maybe our culture hasn’t been too marred by “political-correctness” and that’s why we can communicate so freely, but what else is the point of communicating if not to get a clear message across? I don’t know.

A few months ago I attended an indigenous culture awareness course, of which I’ve written about before. Before us non-Australian-indigenous folk was a man of Australian Aboriginal descent teaching us things about the differences between certain aspects of indigenous and non-indigenous culture. One of the rules of the course was that there were no “stupid” or “offensive” questions; all discussion and questions were allowed. As tends to happen in these kind of conversations, people soon start talking about “them” and “us”. The speaker at the front kept speaking about “us”, so a student of the course asked him a question: does he consider himself Australian at all? The question was based on the fact that we all, the speaker included, were living in Australia and sharing the experience of what living in Australia is. The speaker answered, “I consider myself an Aboriginal man”. Well, yes, but did he identify as both Australian and as an Australian-Aboriginal? The speaker laughed mockingly and said, “There is no Australian culture! What is Australian culture? Eating sausages and drinking beer?” There was an all-round “Ooh!” heard from around the room… I guess no-one likes to be stereotyped.

Is racism rife in Australia? Probably. Is this surprising? No; why should it be? Because suddenly it’s no longer acceptable to acknowledge flaws of the past (or present). What this reminds me of is of certain oppressive governments that seek to rewrite the history books that retell of their defeats or of their gross inhumane mistreatment of masses of people. If those histories or those actions are so reprehensible, then the wisest thing may not be to deny its existence, but to admit it and accept it as a challenge, to set it as the target away from which we must aim our future. If we are lucky enough not be part of a minority group, then what we can do is to personally not discriminate minority groups. But if we are part of a minority group, we must recognise also that this does not entitle us to be racist in return to “the oppressor”. We may not be able to change Australia, a whole country, but if we each make a commitment to change… 

On the dobber's (/victim's) dilemma

I have previously mentioned the difficulty faced by victims of childhood sexual abuse as children and adolescents in telling someone of their predicament. They hesitate due to embarrassment, unwarranted guilt, fear, lack of understanding that they are victims to a terrible sin, and being unaware of the process, etc. Recently I’ve encountered a similar scenario, but in the adult victims of past sexual abuse.

Victims of childhood sexual abuse eventually grow up to become adults. Some become very capable adults, and a lot become crippled by the emotional and psychological scars of trauma. A lot of the people we encounter on a day to day basis have been past victims of this worst of crimes, most have never told a soul of their experiences. I want now to discuss a composite of this person, let’s call her Elisabeth.

An Unpleasant Story 

Elizabeth was sexually abused by Josef between the ages of 10 and 14. Josef was Elisabeth’s stepfather, who joined the family just before Elisabeth’s 10^th birthday. Elisabeth told Rosemarie, her mother, of Josef’s behaviour towards her, the fondling, etc. She did this when she was 14 and then the abuse stopped. Rosemarie had some “stern” words with Josef, but eventually she was a woman in love and they decided to put this “episode” behind them and move forward with family life. The “episode” was never discussed with police or counsellors or anyone else who may have cared. Rosemarie and Josef remain together to this day. Elisabeth, somehow, finally managed to escape the rape dungeon she called a home.

Elisabeth became a woman of her own, independent, self-sufficient, struggled with some things but succeeded in others; she was just a normal woman with a past most of us would never wish on our worst enemies. But the past was in the past and the past can’t hurt you, right? I don’t know that that is right. Elisabeth had managed to move ahead with her life, leaving the past behind, until one day the past came back to find her. Sounds clichéd, right? Yes, but it also sounds horrible and unfair.

One day Elisabeth found out that Josef was accused of doing some things she knew he was capable of, things she had witnessed at one time when she had been the victim of such things. But this was a separate incident, separate incidentS, things not related to her at all, but it brought to her consciousness something that she had suspected all along: that she was not Josef’s only ever victim. There had been others, there probably would be more… And whenever we read this scenario the answer seems so simple: tell. Elisabeth should tell her story, right? Elisabeth should do the right thing for the greater good, right?

Imagine yourself in Elisabeth’s shoes. In the movies and episodes of Law & Order: SVU what happens is that the Elisabeth-character tells her story, feels good about herself, saves the day, the baddie goes to prison forever, and everyone has a perfect life thereafter. Reality is not like the movies. Elisabeth knows this.

Elisabeth asks some people for advice; should she “assist” the potential case against Josef? This isn’t about her life or the things that happened to her, this is about doing the allegedly right thing. Everyone tells her, ‘yes, of course, you HAVE to tell your story’, it’s her duty. The thing is Elisabeth has a life now. She has left that past behind and she owes no-one anything for getting where she is. Who does she owe? Josef’s other victims? The “general public”? Why? She suffered too, but how does that make her anything other than a victim? And will she really feel better to tell her story, to become the hero that saves the fate of children she’s never met and owes nothing to? Doing good things makes everyone feel good, we’re told… And yet I feel that no one should feel coerced to re-live any pain except for their own self.

How do we convince Elisabeth to do the “right” thing? What is the right thing to do? This is the dilemma of knowing something that incriminates someone, but that also inadvertedly incriminates you too. I know you’re thinking ‘but how does that incriminate her if she tells her story?’ Josef maybe or maybe doesn’t get prison time. Elisabeth is punished by having to re-live pain of her story, the humiliation and embarrassment of discussing the very personal and degrading things done to her, she is faced by the well-meaning but hurtful murmurs that if she had told earlier none of those other victims should have had to suffer what they did. Is it worth it? Is the sacrifice worth it for Elisabeth? Forget for a second the “general public”, the “greater good”, is all this worth it to Elisabeth? What will she gain by telling her story?... It’s easy to answer that, but not if you’re truly only thinking of Elisabeth. The only person thinking of Elisabeth – and for a long time – has only being Elisabeth.

And if Elisabeth doesn’t tell her story and Josef goes on to abuse other children, is it Elisabeth’s fault or is it Josef’s? Elisabeth was a victim. Before we judge her, we have to understand her dilemma. Sometimes it’s enough to be a survivor without being a hero.

On addictions... and my dating challenges

When I was studying psychology, one of the areas that most interested me was the field of study into addiction. It interested because a lot of human behaviour can be thought of as addictions. A lot of the things that hurt us, the very human psychological things that hurt us, we are also ironically addicted to. Hold on, but no ones like to hurt – how can we be addicted to it? Quite simply because often it is all we know how to do well. If there is one thing that is more unpleasant to humans than pain, it is change.

Think of the common scenario of a person who smokes cigarettes. Why do they smoke? Because smoking feels good! The nicotine gives you a rush, triggers off the pleasure centres of the brain, etc. Basically we smoke because psychologically we experience it as something pleasant. Why should we not smoke? Well, there’s that whole thing about lung cancer, heart disease, stroke, bladder cancers, etc. etc. But what would happen if a person who smokes stops smoking? Seriously, what will happen to that person psychologically? The truth is that the smoker can’t answer that so easily, if at all. What to do next time you’re bored or in a crowd where everyone else is drinking and smoking? What does emotion feel like without the nicotine? How to relax? How to motivate yourself? All these things that we once were reliant on the nicotine and the simple act of putting a lit cigarette to your mouth for is now so full of unknowns. The unknown is incredibly frightening, no matter how tough you are! So why face this really scary thing? Why?..

There are very few smokers out there who don’t know about lung cancer and cardiovascular disease, but there are a lot more who do know about this and yet fear something greater. But what could potentially be worse than respiratory or vascular disease? Change! The unknown! Mental anxiety! Us humans will do almost anything to avoid these most horrible of things. This is why it’s so hard to quit smoking or using any other mind-altering drug or quit just about any behaviour we engage in repetitively. Everyone has their list of things they’re addicted to. We call them addictions because they are things we engage in repetitively despite the negative consequences (physically or mentally) of engaging in these things.

I keep getting into these relationships that don’t seem to last. I want them to last. I think I try my best. I date different sorts of people to see if that helps, but it’s still the same consequence: Vanessa is almost always single. But why? Is everyone out there defective? No! That’s the reason I think I want to date these people in the first place; they seem OK. So the common factor in all the people I date is me. Woah! Yes, my ego has just taken quite a blow in admitting that, but it’s worthwhile to discuss this even if it hurts. And I had to admit this because I want to change, to end this cycle of constant rejection…

There’s a great book I read in my undergraduate years called ‘Excessive appetites: a psychological view on addictions’ by Jim Orford. It quoted this other author in something which I took very much to heart:

“… in the acquisition of a new habit or the leaving off of an old one, we must take care to launch ourselves with as strong and decided initiative as possible. Accumulate all the possible circumstances which shall re-enforce the right motives; put yourself assiduously in conditions that encourage the new way; make engagements incompatible with the old; take a public pledge, if the case allows; in short, envelop your resolution with every aid you know” (James, 1891)

I made my resolution: when I saw something I wanted, I would go in 100%. It worked marvelously in some things in my life. When I finished off my science degree and didn’t immediately get accepted into medical school, I enrolled in an honours course. It wasn’t what I wanted but I thought I’d give it a try. Everyone kept telling me it’s ok, medical research isn’t that different to clinical medicine, etc. They told me to pursue it, even. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted and instead of pursuing plan B or C or D, I decided to burn all my bridges so that in fact all I had left was plan A. That quote “make engagements incompatible with the old” really stuck with me. I quit my honours course, lost a scholarship, annoyed my supervisors and the university, and risked losing the grades I had worked so hard to attain. There was no way back and no other way than ahead with Plan A: to somehow, but eventually, get into medical school. The gamble paid off; it had to. I would have probably died trying if it hadn't...

Things get a little more complicated, though, when your plans are dependent on another human being. Recently I started to see someone new. I had met someone a little while before them, and they were a good person too. Gee, life is like that, hey! You go through droughts, then you go through floods. I made my decision; I would go in 100%. I ‘made engagements incompatible with the old’. I burnt all my bridges so I’d be left with just the one bridge that lead to the destination I wanted to go. You know what happened? Nothing. I’m still single.

So back to the drawing board I go and I’m starting to realize something about myself. Maybe I’m not a bad person; maybe I’m even what you may call a “good” person, but I am also someone who doesn’t like plans B, C, D, or any other one that isn’t A. And what I hate most is being other people’s plan B, C, or D, etc… But what is it I’m addicted to that keeps me in the position that isn’t foremost in other’s list? That is something I’ve been giving a lot of thought to. I’m not there yet, but I won’t accept this latest challenge as defeat :)

-Dedicated to R.V.... and thanks for the feedback :)