By Nancy Cato
March 3, 2013
At my usual early hour on a sunny Melbourne Saturday, I pushed back the covers along with the urge to go back to sleep and wondered why I felt discomforted.
I’m a happy soul, usually.
And then I remembered; the images of Scott Morrison’s many interviews the day before on his pea-sized understanding of the asylum seeker debate were drilling tattoos onto my sensitivities.
Before I had much chance to let my brain catch up to my outstretched hand. I’d sent out this message via Twitter for all to see:
Your words @ScottMorrisonMP have punctured my skin, entered my bloodstream & sadly for you, boosted my adrenaline levels. #fightnotflight
I stand by them.
Mother Nature knew what she was doing when she equipped us with the instinct to take flight or stand and fight when sensing danger. The animals of the wild also know it well, and you Mr Scott Morrison have turned me into a wild Mother Lion today. A very wild one.
You see, Mr Morrison, I have two tiny granddaughters. They’re innocent, loved and free and I want them to remain that way, at least while I’m around to tear anything to pieces that would destroy their rights or foul the very air they breathe.
That’s just what you’re threatening to do, Mr Morrison. Do you realise that? Do you have the faintest idea of the impact your words have the minute they settle somewhere, anywhere?
Of course you don’t. You’re far too busy stirring your inner crucible aren’t you. Let’s take a look in it shall we? I hesitate, but see it for what it is we must.
It’s bile. It’s slimy and deep. Look, I can see the ingredients that refuse to integrate: superiority, affluence, ambition, greed, power and opportunism. And what’s that down at the bottom? Ah yes. Hatred, all fine-tuned to the latest recipe of racist thought your alignments dictate.
Can you see what your words turn into, the minute they leave your mouth and mix with the hot air you’ve summoned around you Mr Morrison?
No? I’ll tell you.
They become as blowflies. Each one blowing in the wind to settle and leave its new hatching to poison and rot the environment we love and care about.
Oh yes, I’m a Mother Lion today but not just for my grandchildren. I’m roaring in rage for all the children who hope to grow up in this beautiful country of ours, free from the despicable discrimination that you wish to impose on their thought. And I’ll tear into you as much as you deserve – albeit just with my words.
You do not seem to understand, Mr Morrison, that it’s far too late for you to pretend that this society of ours is pristine white and problem free. Like it or not we already are a Multicultural Society with skins ranging from black through red and yellow to white.
Like it or not, in our grab for this land we originally were boat people – mostly crims and sundry others – who imposed themselves on our indigenous folk and started a crime rate that continues today.
Like it or not we already have disadvantaged and marginalised people.
Like it or not, some of our citizens already live in fear and struggle to be accepted.
Do you really think that giving a few asylum seekers from across the seas the chance for a peaceful new life will make one jot of difference to our lives? Do you really think that by helping a few, we’re endangering the lives of those of us already here because the crime rate will suddenly skyrocket? Shame on you.
Look at our children. We have privileged children, but we also have terrified children, different-coloured children, hungry children, spoilt children, disabled children, disorientated children, fleeing children, abused children, children in despair… They all look different, they all come from a multitude of backgrounds, they all behave according to their upbringing or circumstances. You insult every one of them and us with your insinuations that ‘one who looks different’ is certain to commit a crime.
I have forebears from all over the world and live with a disability. I too, am different. Am I likely to commit a crime? Should I have been thrown overboard from the birthing table?
We get one go at life Mr Morrison. We can choose to do the very best we can to advance the society in which we live by the way we live, or we can choose to soil our nest.
You’re not advancing our society, Scott Morrison. You’re peeing on it.
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