Who would be a refugee?

The kids I work with that come from refugee backgrounds have my full admiration. They are a delight to teach and show strength,  flexibility,  bravery, enthusiasm  and the ability to embrace the country and people that has offered them this chance of a new life.

It amazes me that there is so much negative imagery and messaging about people who have had to flee their homeland. For most of them, there is no going back to the places from where they have escaped in fear of their lives – at least not for many years. If we could really empathise and put ourselves in their shoes (if they have any) then perhaps we might show more compassion.

In 2017, 68.5 million people were forced to flee their homes. Of those, 40 million were internally displaced, 25.4 million were refugees and 3.1 million were asylum seekers. They were forced to flee because of war, persecution, natural disasters, environmental crises and poverty. We see so many people seeking asylum around the world and the so-called ‘first world’ countries are quick to complain that many are simply economic migrants and their status is nothing to do with fear. In a time when money speaks louder than compassion, countries like Australia spend more money on protecting their borders than welcoming refugees. People often believe that their country takes a fair share of refugees; those who arrive through the ‘proper’ channels and are proven to be refugees, a process that can take many years while living in a refugee camp where they can be susceptible to bribery and ‘favours’. Yet it is less affluent countries who are more likely to host refugees.

‘Turkey, Pakistan and Uganda host 31 percent of the world’s refugees. The highest concentration of refugees is in Lebanon, where one in six people is a refugee, primarily from Syria.’ UNHCR 2018.

Those quick to complain that refugees are simply economic migrants, fraudsters and ‘shouldn’t be travelling without documents to prove who they are’, seem indifferent to the circumstances that force someone to flee their home. If your house is burning, guns are firing, women and girls are being raped, or there has been extended drought and you and your family are starving, wouldn’t you flee? Would you pause to make sure you have your documents, even if you actually possessed any? Wouldn’t you use all your money and capacity to move yourself or your family somewhere safe?

It is a complex and political problem. Wars and persecution on the grounds of religion, ethnicity and race will always happen. Drought and internal displacement of people will increase with climate change, and there will always be refugees and migrants. Yet there is an inequality in who is allowed to travel to a country for a new beginning. Why is a doctor from Vietnam lower down the pecking order than one from France or Australia? Is it because their qualification is seen as lesser or are there other factors at play?

If we could support the countries where these so-called economic refugees come from, namely poor developing countries, rather than spending millions on ‘border-control’, surely that would make more economic sense. If their homeland offered prospects for them, micro financing for small businesses, a living wage and safety, wouldn’t they prefer to stay there? Would that be enough to prevent many of the fatalities we are witnessing in the Mediterranean and other seas?

My thoughts go back to the children, the lucky ones who made it to our shores, the lucky ones who escaped violence and war, the lucky ones who weren’t sent to languish on island prisons in the pacific ocean.

Who would be a refugee?

 

Refugee children in Australia – the ‘lucky’ ones.

 

 

Make a Difference

For many decades I have thought of myself as an environmentalist. I’ve participated in protests against environmental destruction, I am a member of various groups and organisations that advocate protection of our environment and I engage in a lot of ‘armchair activism’.  Last year I was humbled when I went to see a talk given by an amazing, seemingly indefatigable woman in her 80s, one of my favourite environmentalists, Dr Jane Goodall.

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Jane Goodall being interviewed, Perth 2017

I first came across her name when studying psychology in the late 70s,  and then again while doing my Masters some years later when I undertook a study of language in apes. I’d also lived for many years in Tanzania, her adopted country where she has spent many years of her life studying the social and family interactions of wild chimpanzees in Gombe Stream National Park, although now she is travelling for almost 300 days a year in her advocacy work. She started her travels in a quest to save chimpanzees from extinction and this developed into a much broader conservation platform. As I listened that evening, it was not only the fact that she had given her whole life to conservation, often in the face of grim opposition, but it was her hope for the future that inspired.

So when I thought about my growth as a person over the last few years and how I hope I will grow in the future, it is my activism that I am most passionate about. Whether it be  standing in the freezing cold of a North Yorkshire winter to stop fracking vehicles passing, speaking out against multinationals and their greed, stopping a pointless road going through important wetlands in Western Australia, or protesting about the abuse of human rights in Australia’s refugee policy, I know I will not sit quietly this year.

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Protesting a road to nowhere – Roe 8 in Beeliar Wetlands, 2017

As Jane Goodall says, ‘It’s amazing what happens when people see the difference they can make.’

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/growth-2/

 

 

 

Platitudes and Silence

Staring through the window I sit
nursing a mug of tea.
The swish of tyres after recent rain
and the squawks of  parakeets
foraging in the flame tree
are background noise to my thoughts.
Thoughts of disbelief.
Thoughts of anger.
Colours mute as the sun descends.
Long shadows fall across the yard.
My phone beeps, more news.
I don’t look.
Enough bad news for one day.
‘Atrocities believed to have happened on Nauru.’
Believed to?
How can a government be so callous,
so cold,
so lacking in compassion?
I don’t want news.
I want answers.
But I don’t get answers.
All we get are platitudes
and silence.

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/silence/

 

Colours of Diwali

As soon as I thought of colour I thought of Nepal.

We’ve seen so many tragic images following the earthquakes, yet my memories are still of a vibrant, colourful country. I know that the relief efforts have been slow, especially to the remoter areas but from my contacts there I see optimism rather than despair.

Diwali, the festival of lights, spiritually signifies the victory of light over darkness.

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Rangoli or Kolam (mandalas) decorations for Diwali, are prepared from coloured flour or with flower petals.

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They are floor decorations placed near entrances and corridors to welcome the goddess Lakshmi and guests.

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Let’s not forget this beautiful country that is still in great need of our support.

How you can help:

http://www.theguardian.com/global-development/2015/apr/27/nepal-earthquake-how-you-can-help-donate-aid

http://www.abc.net.au/appeals/content/4224542.htm

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/roy-g-biv/

The Goat Herder

In May 2013, I was doing some voluntary work in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia.  I was working at the School of St Yared,  set up in 2009 to educate those children who would not normally get a chance, due to their poverty and family circumstances. The aim being that through education the poverty cycle can be broken and when these children become adults they can become leaders within their communities.

 http://www.hopeforchildren.org.au/

On my first visit to Ethiopia I didn’t manage to explore further than the edge of Addis city, so on this occasion I decided to go community trekking to western Meket in the mountains near Lalibela, one of Ethiopia’s most sacred sites.

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This photo, one of my favourites, was taken one morning just after breakfast, purely by chance when a small goat herder came skipping over the ridge.

He went past with an inquisitive smile and I wondered if he had ever had the chance to go to school or if this was the only life he knew, helping his family and roaming the mountainside with their goats in search of pasture.

 http://www.tesfatours.com/tour/community-trekking-in-wollo-lalibela/

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/motion/