At 17.

In Palestine, Chechnya, Congo (Republic of, and Democratic Republic of), Iraq, Uganda, Columbia, Rwanda, Nepal, Iran, Somalia, Sierra Leone, Ethiopia, Algeria, and others I may have been in an armed militia, or opposition force for the last few years.

In other countries, I could be forced to work to support my family, earning less than a dollar a day, no future.

I wrote that a year or so ago, a few days after I'd turned 17. Nothing's changed for the people living in those countries.

Will it ever?

Coulda, woulda, shoulda

Some absolute legend gave me some really good advice re. School today.
They said: "you just need to put in an effort now...... school will be over soon then we can't change the fact we didn't do any work. Coulda, woulda, shoulda.
Love you heaps the person who said that..... it's like the best advice :)

Very Long Time..... no hear

Oh here we go....again....
I am so scared... my head is spinning....
(Courtesy of Pete Murray, "Bail Me Out").

Week 4, Term 2 of year 12.
240 something days unitl the Higher School Certificate.

I think it is finally hitting home exactely what the HSC is all about..... and exactely what I have to sign myself away to.

And its fucken scarey.

I love life at the moment...... I am happy..... I have the bestest friend ever by my side..... a group of people constantly around me who constantly make me laugh and enjoy life......parents and family who care so much it annoys me..... a school I passionately adore...... teachers who are like friends and who never stop receiving praise if anyone makes the mistake of asking what I think....... an environment which is one of the best in the world...... a shire full of crazy, random, yet entertaining and loveable characters.... and generally a lifestyle I love.

It feels like the world is at my feet.
And I don't want to give that feeling up. Even for 200 and whatever days.
I don't want to go back into that year 10 state of life being a chore.... and being completely burnt-out.
I'm scared that I'll end up like that again. I'm in denial that in 8 or so months, I will be at the school I have come to love, sitting near the people I have come to adore, with teachers standing outside, who have become more like friends and who I have the upmost respect for..... sitting an exam for the last time.

God dammit, why do they have the HSC in yr 12 at the peak of everyone's newfound independence and.... dare I say it.... empowerment in life?

Is it some kind of sadistic application of Darwinism? Whack everyone in the pressure cooker and see who comes out at the end? Survival of the fittest?
Another appropriate analogy could be drawn to a paper shredder.

Perhaps the HSC, as our equivalent of a "coming of age", rite of passage, is somewhat of a experience leading to the further empowerment of our innocent inexperienced souls....?

Maybe it does have positive outcomes as well.

Hopefully everyone will come out of it as more all/well roundeded individuals ready to face the world. We can only hope.

And I damn well hope I am not one of grains of rice that gets stuck to the bottom of the rice cooker..... while the rest is being rolled up into sushi.

Mmm.....sushi. I can't wait for that last piece. Pity I will be choking on it for 8 months until I can swallow it.

Until then it's going to be a long and hard battle.
I hope I win.

Anyway..... what was that Hamlet?

Time: 2302 AEST
Current Activities: Blogging, Eating chocolate & other high sugar substances, listening to U2
Intended Activity: Completion of Assesment Task

For some reason I've only found the time to blog now, when I don't have it.

[forces mouse to assignment related window]

Changing my Mind.

A year or two ago, I thought Michael Moore was a cynical, short sighted, 'typical' American. I'd never read any of his books, nor seen any of his movies or tv shows, but found myself disliking him for the way in which he expressed his views. I shared a lot of these views but found Moore rude, offensive and unintelligent, yet wasn't sure how I'd come to feel this way. My only exposure to him had been through the media and what I had heard from friends who had read his books (One of my friends was obsessed with him, and I suppose, due to this my opinion of him had been jaded from the start). Despite not watching Commercial News without a grain of cynicism, and firmly believing that my mind was to be made up for myself, I found myself disliking a person without having ever given them any opportunity to prove themselves otherwise.
I decided then, that in order to continue holding the opinion of him that I did, I really needed to have some basis - to, at least, have read one of his books. I reserved the book, and was put onto a list of around 30 for one of the local library's 3 copies. As time wore on I gradually progressed along the list, and my School Certificate Assesments approached. I forgot about the reservation, and didn't think about my decision until earlier this year, when a copy of the book "Stupid White Men" happened to be leant to me, along with a number of other books, by a family friend.
Reading through his work, I found a much more compassionate person than that which the media, or my own scepticism would have me believe. Moore was witty, intelligent, and passionate, and looked at a wide number of issues concerning current American policy with a matter-of-fact, yet funny style.
I spent 2 hours tonight watching "Bowling for Columbine". I was left feeling powerless, a common response after learning more about situations which seem so complex, and hopeless.
At a time where attacks on Moores new documentary "Fahrenheit 911" continuing from those on the right, I feel a reminder of what they are supposedly fighting for is in order. Freedom & Democracy.
Mr. Moore makes documentary's based on his opinion, and is therefore not restricted by the constraints of objectivity self imposed by many in the documentary making field.

"Fight for freedom", yet attack free speech.

Australia’s Treatment of Asylum Seekers - The Catholic Response. [cont.]

146 Children, 142 Women, 65 Men.

Positions taken by the Australian Government after their 2001 election campaign prevented any attempt being made to save the lives of these people after the sinking of the Siev X, in international waters off Christmas Island, in late October of that year.

Crossing the waters between Indonesia and Christmas Island in search of a better life is an action taken by asylum seekers despite its dangers. In recent years, our country has made it harder for these people to achieve happiness, and has denied people not reaching the Australian mainland the right to seek asylum.

Those asylum seekers who have reached Australian Territories have experienced public hostility and are treated like criminals. These people are locked up, and isolated. The situation inside Australia’s Detention Centres is miserable. With many experiencing psychological problems caused by the physical separation from the freedom they sought & the uncertainty of waiting for a decision on your future, your life in someone else’s hands.

For those eventually granted refugee status, life is often difficult, as there are limited support systems, and large cultural and language barriers which often need to be addressed. Failings in the government’s welfare system such as this pose difficulties to many migrants in their initial adjustment to Australia.

The Catholic Church teaches that asylum seekers deserve to be treated with respect and compassion. It works to assist refugees and migrants in the community and in detention centres and advocates the plights of refugees migrant and within the church and in the wider community.

The wellbeing of those in detention centres is of great to concern to the Catholic Church, the violation of human dignity and punishment of innocent people are seen as offences against God’s people. By keeping children in detention the church claims the government is denying them the right to proper development in an environment suitable to growth as human beings.

Various church groups make visits to detention centres providing the people in the centres with outside support and regular contact, something which can keep people going, and inspire hope in an otherwise devastated and hopeless view of Australia.

Migrant and Refugee Offices throughout the states, along with institutes and organisations like the St. Vincent de Paul society provide support to refugees and migrants by assisting them in easing the transition into Australian society.

The actions taken in response to the issue are based on the principles of love for one another, and the sanctity of human life. These principles, along with stories from the Old and New Testaments, form the basis of Catholic doctrine relating to migration and refugees.
The stories of the Good Samaritan, the crossing of the Red Sea, and Jesus’ commandment to love one another as I have loved you, convey a message of compassion towards everyone, especially those who are fleeing persecution, and in spite of religion or race, the 2nd Vatican council builds on this calling on Catholics to be a “neighbour” to immigrants.

Jesus was himself born away from his home and forced into exile, and when he returned to Israel, he spent much of his life moving through towns and villages relying on the hospitality of those he met on his way. The welcoming of strangers was a characteristic of the early church, which provided and relied on this hospitality.

The people our government has locked up are not terrorists or “queue jumpers” they are human beings searching for a way to lead a better life, and a happier future, we have a responsibility to protect their right to live the gift of life.

“I was a stranger and you made me welcome” Mt 25:35

From Faiza

I found nothing more beautiful than this poem, written by an American writer, thus making it a popular, folk song, at the time of World War 1…but I see it a poem that fits all wars…. Alfred Brian (1915), by the title:  I Didn't Raise My Son To Become A Soldier… Ten million soldiers went to war, They might never come back. Ten million mothers' hearts are sure to break For sons who died in vain… I heard a mother, her head bowed in sadness, In her years of loneliness, Muttering through her tears: I didn't raise my son to be a soldier, I raised him to be my pride and joy, Who would dare put a gun on his shoulder, To kill another mothers' beloved son?