The Media has shut up but I'm going to run with it...

The media clearly think that cracking some disgusting, insensitive joke about petite Asian doctors is not really news-worthy. Sure, it made the news. Then he apologised, and just like that, it wasn't an issue any more. When I googled, the only articles that came up were at least 5 days old.

But it IS an issue. The partner of our 'leader' is a joke! How can that not be a reflection on the Prime Minister herself?

Just in case you missed it (and you could have, it wasn't on the news nearly enough) Julia Gillard's partner, Tim Mathieson took it upon himself to suggest to a whole crowd of people at a West Indies cricket team reception, that when getting prostate checks, you should "Look for a small, Asian, female doctor" as the best way to get examined.

Later, an apology was made and he said it was in "poor taste". Julia agreed, confirming that at least he recognised it was just that. Is that all it was though? Poor taste? They are going to get away with it as being just poor taste?

I wonder if it was a joke said about homosexuality. My imagination tells me that would of been a huge act of discrimination in the media and would of made major news. That's because homosexuals would have been in uproar! (And rightly so). But who is speaking for the 'small, Asian, doctor'? Nobody. I can't find anyone that has stood up to this dope. So if you find someone who has, let me know.

I know many of us have made the odd racist or discriminatory comment before. I'm guilty of it myself. And it's not something that should be excused by any means. But this is the partner of our country's leader! These are words that should have been planned, prepared and practised. For they were said out in the public eye and were said by our leader's 'other half'.

I watched Barak Obama's Inauguration in awe. That man can speak. He sounds like the leader of a country and his wife sounds like a First Lady. They demand respect and they speak with respect. They hold a dignity that is nowhere near equal to the way our politicians or their partners speak. They would never make ridiculous comments like Tim did. It just wouldn't happen.

I think both him and Julia got off lightly on this one. Frankly, I'm disturbed by the fact that our country is being governed by someone whose partner makes comments like that. How can you respect someone with a partner that makes such sexist, racist comments in the media?

I'm feeling for all the Asian, women doctors who have to put up with leery, sleazy men that are knowingly choosing them for a prostate check. It might of been a joke to him, but I bet it happens. And to go and encourage it is just downright wrong.

White people are disabled. Black people have an agenda.

That's what the media likes to portray anyway.

Like so many people all over the globe, I am still reeling from yesterday's horrific events in the U.S.   The majority of us can't ever comprehend what would possess someone to do such a incomprehensible act - to not only murder, but to murder helpless, innocent children who had their whole lives ahead of them. Children who are filled with an innocence and purity that can only belong in the heart of a child.

Among all the talk about getting rid of 'the right to bear arms' in the U.S (A RIDICULOUS right I might add), there is now talk that the gunman had Asperger Syndrome. Asperger Syndrome is a form of Autism. It is a disability, in that it can disable people, or make it difficult to lead a 'normal' life. It is not a mental illness. Natural human response is to, of course, find a reason behind why someone would commit such an act. I get that. But nobody even stops to consider what impact this will now have on all adults and children with Asperger's or Autism all around the world. They will now be looked at by all, with a different pair of eyes.

I'm Arab by the way. And I'm black. And I'm Egyptian. Such a cocktail of genetics puts me in the 'terrorist' profile. I'm lucky though. I'm a woman and I'm not Muslim. I scrape through. But we all know that ever since terrorist attacks started to fill the media, Arabs and Blacks, as a whole, started to be looked at with a different set of eyes. Whether you like it or not, the media infiltrates our thinking. It is everywhere. You can't avoid it. It wasn't long before all I heard were jokes about my own people. To my face. People thought I scraped in though as being Aussie and Christian so maybe I might find those jokes funny too. I went along with them for people's sake but can I openly say, I don't find black jokes funny. Stop saying them around me!

Then there's the fear that is injected into so many people. Because black people that kill have an agenda. It's to wipe out the white people. Nobody ever talks about someone who takes part in a suicide bombing as being Autistic or having some other disability. Nobody even says that they weren't of sane body or mind. They had an agenda. They knew what they were doing.

But do they? If they do, then that's suggesting that people who kill, or kill themselves, are in that moment, sane, and of sound mind. If that's the case, then why is this something that most human beings can't even begin to imagine doing?

And now, I'm sad for all those with Asperger's or Autism. I'm sad for their parents and their loved ones. And I'm angry that the media has chosen to use it as an excuse for this man's behaviour. I'm pissed off that when someone now says "I have Asperger's" when they apply for a job, it will be no different to saying "I'm a muslim" They will now be looked upon with cautious, wary and judgemental eyes.

Some white people are disabled.
Some black people are disabled.
And some of each have an agenda.
And there's a rare few of us that do not have a sound mind. This is where I choose to place this man. Not as black or white. But as a human being who was not of sound body or mind. It's not because I feel sorry for this man. It's because labelling him as Asperger's is labelling everyone else with the syndrome and giving Asperger's a symptom that simply isn't true. And that's not fair. Not one little bit.

Get Calm - Get Aussie

On Thursday my brother called. He told me there was a fire on our family farm. It's actually his farm but it has been a part of our whole family since I was in early high school. We never say "his farm" it's just "the farm"

What came shortly after that, was what usually happens whenever disaster strikes in my family. Some might call it passion, speed and love. Others may call it haste, panicked and unnecessary. As I navigated my way through a million phone calls - trying to convince my father not to make the drive there, calm my hysterical mother down, talk to my husband and figure out the next move I also had a toddler around my legs and it was near dinnertime.

My husband came home and got ready to head off. He was calm, collected and moving slow. I know he was doing deliberately. He was careful not to forget anything, to not get sucked into the vortex that was me talking a million miles an hour and making sandwiches with shaky hands. I knew he was the perfect person to be there, to go. I knew that in crisis he was of sound mind. He wouldn't do anything hasty if things there weren't safe and he would encourage others around him to not make any rash decisions.

Because he's got the Aussie calm that is not in my genes. It's that gene that helps you to think rationally in emergency situations. I'm fire, he is ice. And it's a good balance for us. In fact, I'm not sure how I would manage if we were both hysterical in certain situations. How would anything practical take place?

So glad I married an Aussie. Thankfully the fire was mostly out by the time both he and my brother arrived. I went to visit today and now I'm back looking at my sister-in-law's photos, all I can say is...how AMAZING is the CFA!

Linked with FYBF at With Some Grace

With Love - Bogan Christmas and Wog Christmas

There are two Christmases in my life. There’s Wog Christmas and Bogan Christmas. I must stress that I do mean that in the most endearing way possible and to avoid confusion, I’ll keep referring to them by those names.

When I was younger I only knew Wog Christmas. It’s celebrated on the 7^th of January and no, I’m not Muslim, Hindu or Jewish. It’s still celebrating the birth of Christ, that’s why I still call it Christmas! (As soon as I say it’s on a different date, people assume it must be something completely different). Wog Christmas revolves around what most woggy celebrations do – Food. Lots of food. On Christmas Eve we would go to Church, which goes for a million hours, but we would go for the last couple – from 10pm onwards, and then we would head to someone’s house and meet with aunties, uncles and cousins for a ridiculous amount of food. 

Image Source - We do eat in chairs but the amount of food is the same!

Food after midnight you say? Yes, that’s right. We would eat after midnight like it was dinner time and then the adults would drink scotch and party like it’s 1999 (it actually was back then) usually until 3 or 4am. Then we would all meet again in the morning, which was Christmas Day and eat leftovers from our Midnight feast in a park somewhere. Where’s Santa? Where’s the presents? Where’s the backyard cricket? Well we didn’t really have that. My parents never tried to convince me that Santa existed – I know, I still have therapy because of it. Ironic huh? Actually, not believing in Santa didn’t scar me one bit. I know it is to the shock horror of my husband but I’m not a huge believer in lying to my children. These are the effects your upbringing have on you I guess.

I was lucky enough to become a part of Bogan Christmas when I met my husband. My first Aussie Christmas was, in my eyes, something out of a family sitcom. Beautifully decorated Christmas tree, loads of presents underneath, waking up in the morning handing out presents, then having the most amazing Christmas lunch, complete with Christmas crackers. Shit! I never realised people actually did that! It was just like on TV!

Image Source

 And hang on a minute, nobody was yelling, or arguing or laughing ridiculously loud. There was also nobody trying to shove food on your plate. You actually got to SERVE yourself! I was flabbergasted, and well, it was kind of nice!

Some people might shudder at the thought of having to celebrate Christmas twice but I actually enjoy it. These days Wog Christmas is a lot more subtle, and last year, actually DID involve lunch on Christmas day and presents for the kids...there was still all the noise and copious amounts of food though, but you can’t take that out. That’s not Wog Christmas, that’s Wog Blood.

I hope you all have a great Christmas, and if you do something different, I’d love you to share. Traditional is fantastic, but so is a little bit of flavour. I'm lucky to be a part of both.

Living the Multicultural Dream - An intro...

By Angela East

I take a deep breath, I walk down the aisle, I hear the monotonous rise and fall of chanting, the smell of incense burning and the occasional, celebratory yodel that sounds like a mix between native Indians and someone screaming as they fall out of a tree. There is bright red carpet like a runway and men with long beards, neck to ankle gowns and giant crucifixes around their neck. And then, on the flipside I also see a Catholic priest, Aussie groomsmen (looking confused and amused) and a white, blue eyed groom with a wide grin on his face.

Photos by the gorgeous and talented Clare Metcalf

Yes, this was the beginning of my wedding. This is the story of how lucky I am to have the best of two cultural worlds.

Egyptian weddings are a crazy mix of wailing, laughing, chanting and cymbals and when you are marrying nothing but a genuine Aussie bloke, somebody who is the epitome of everything Australian (beer, football, cricket, Cold Chisel) you know both of you are in for a bit of a cultural rollercoaster.

My parents lived in a country where marrying 2^nd or 3^rd generation cousins was perfectly acceptable – “At least you know they come from a good family!” they would say, or where a man (that you have never met) could come to your parent’s door and ask your father for your hand in marriage, simply because he had been watching you as you bought groceries at the market and came to the conclusion that you were wifely material.

So needless to say, When I introduced my parents to Steve (who says g’day like it’s a question when he answers the phone – g’day?) let’s just say, they weren’t overly impressed. He wasn’t dark, or a doctor and I had chosen this man all by MYSELF! How could I? But they had no choice but to be eventually won over by the charms of his easy Australian humour and his way to see everything in optimism.

The cultural mish-mash of events that took place in the course of our engagement period were both funny and terrifying to me. Some of them were the simplest of things, like my parents forgetting to give Steve a knife and fork when we ate - I don’t know why, but Egyptians tend to eat with spoons or their hands. Then there was the countless “Pardon? What was that?” as the language barriers posed a threat to people actually getting to know eachother. Or of course, when my dad tried to translate Egyptian phrases into English except the exact translation didn’t sound quite right. For example, instead of saying that someone shouldn’t talk rubbish, my Dad said, in his best, words-of-wisdom voice, “Shit. It should never come from the mouth” Steve laughed so hard at this while my dad looked utterly confused as to why this was so funny but pleased he had amused him so. It's now a staple phrase in our house.

My parents have come to love Steve. He is like the token white boy and the only person in our extended family with blue, sparkling eyes. They see those traits that also can come with being the classic Australian - patient, easygoing and straightforward.

The story as to how we got married is a big one. But in the end what came to eventuate was a wedding well enjoyed by all with a mixture of faiths, cultures and partying. There was waltzing and belly-dancing, Arabic and English, black and white.

God bless multiculturalism for making our lives a hell of a lot more interesting and amusing and reminding us that shit should NEVER come from the mouth.

I would love it if you shared, commented or liked.