Being Present
© Melina Magdalena (2006)
“I wanted you to be present”
(Majid, just before his death; Caché (Hidden) Michael Haneke, 2005)
To be present at any given time is to give the gift of human connection to the world. Moment by moment, we make choices about what we attend to. At the moment, I am typing on my computer ... listening to music ... singing along ... knowing the washing machine cycle will finish soon and wondering how cold it will be when I go outside to hang it out ... savouring my fried rice breakfast, still warm in my stomach ... thinking about my sister and her newborn baby girl ... conscious that I have planning to do for my teaching this week ... and the need to get out my paints to make thank you cards for the students in my class, who have taught me such a lot over the last four weeks ...
But all of this is now also in the past. And some of it is in the future. The flow of time is a matter of ever-present perplexity for me. How often am I really present? How can I be present and still maintain links to the past and the future? What is present?
Caché (Hidden) Michael Haneke, (2005)
(http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0387898/)
I went to watch “Hidden” last weekend. At the films’ conclusion, like several other members of the audience, I sat in stunned and horrified numbness, wondering what the film was all about, and what it said about me, in my life.
I was horrified and stunned by Majid’s act of defiance, but something else disturbed me more. While Majid’s end is swift and startling (albeit not without ongoing ramifications), the behaviour and attitude of George, his erstwhile peer and brother, is what leaves me sleepless. Majid’s act of self-destruction contributes nothing, because George refuses to engage with it on any level at all.
It reminded me of Marilyn French’s “The Women’s Room”, (1977) where Val self-destructs in what seems to be a pointless act of aggression against patriarchy. Not only does her participation in the robbery fail to solve any problems, but it does not even attract the attention of the world to what those problems are.
I am also reminded of the sorry tale of Sorry Day in Australia, (http://home.alphalink.com.au/~rez/Journey/) and John Howard’s refusal to say ‘sorry’. His refusal leaves me almost speechless, because it is such an inhuman response, revealing him as cold, passionless, manipulative and cruel. The ability to show empathy and compassion for what others have experienced is not a weakness, but a gift and a strength that connects one person to another. When our nation’s leader claims that showing empathy will make him liable and accountable for the past, he is missing the point.
What we have and what we are is connected to what we did in the past. Australians ride high on what was stolen from the Aboriginal peoples of this land. However, Australia’s Indigenous peoples are not holding the rest of us to ransom. No one is demanding that we relinquish everything we have and give it back. It is not possible to turn back the clock and restore things as they used to be.
Like disenfrachised people everywhere, whether they were colonised or hounded from their homelands, Aboriginal people simply want to be recognised as human beings, and be given what every Australian has – equal opportunities to live, work, play, create and thrive as valued and contributing members of the Australian community.
George’s rejection of Majid and what he represents goes deeper than any personal guilt he may be covering up, for the fact that Majid, an Algerian Frenchman, grw up penniless and orphaned, in contrast to George’s well-padded, connected and affluent lifestyle. In the whole film, Majid is represented as hospitable and welcoming. He is not accusatory of George, but opens his home, offers George a drink, somewhere to sit and asks him about his life. But George rejects any level of connection with Majid. This is an absolute image of racism. George refuses to recognise that Majid is a human being. At the end of the film, we see George sleeping off the events of the previous weeks. Sleep is his solution to encountering the trauma in which he was complicit. It’s an easy metaphor to interpret – equivalent to hiding one’s head in the sand. (At the end of the day, we’re all too busy to do anything anyway. But is inaction equivalent to passive non-violent resistance?)
In the closing scene, we watch tensely, as George’s son Pierrot, leaves his school at the end of the day. From our viewpoint, we might be watching from behind a video camera, or looking down the barrel of a gun. While watching the film, I was convinced that we were about to witness a bloodbath; especially given the situation could be constructed as a war between two religious groups, the Christian-haves and the Muslim-have-nots. Instead, we are treated to an alternative that challenges the prejudices uncovered by my initial thoughts as to what will happen next. Majid’s son is indeed at the school, where he meets George’s soon. They walk off together in conversation, as their fathers never did, and never will.
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Not our culture
Not our culture
©Melina Magdalena (2006)
a plea for compassion, empathy, understanding, hope and action
In the mid-1990s I began to study linguistics at university. The format of the course involved one lecture and one tutorial each week. One of the things our tutor worked hard to impress upon us was the concept that language reflects the world which created it, in which that language continues to evolve. The tutor chose to instruct us in this concept by using “rape” as an idea that only exists in a certain cultural framework.
His thesis was that we who look at what happens to the women and children in other cultures get outraged by “rape” because we mistakenly attribute the same connotations and understandings and attitudes to what we observe taking place there, when in fact for the people in those cultures, there is no wrongdoing and no need for outrage, because there is no such thing as “rape”.
I was reminded this week of the deep rage and sadness this triggered in me, with the media frenzy over child sexual abuse and domestic violence in Aboriginal communities of the Northern Territory. The woman who impressed me most was Betty Pearce, who is quoted saying “Anger is so great because this is not an Aboriginal culture. Even 20 years ago, 22 years ago, had an Aboriginal person done that he’d have been killed, had he raped a child.”
Child sexual abuse and domestic violence are present in all sectors of Australian society, and it is significant that media excitement about these issues on Aboriginal communities is hyped to such an extent, when the people involved say that action is needed now (and twenty years ago), not just more talking. Otherwise, domestic violence and child sexual abuse hardly rate a mention in Australian media except when they involve gruesome murder suicides.
We know that rape is not about claiming one’s traditional rights to a child bride. Nor is rape about sex. Rape is about power.
We know that domestic violence, which is when one’s spouse, child, or lover enforces a reign of terror in one’s daily life, is about control. We know that the perpetrator of domestic violence does everything he can to maintain control over those under his power. When verbal abuse is not sufficient, he resorts to physical, sexual, social, financial and spiritual abuse.
As a mother, the impulse to appeal to a child’s father’s better judgment can lead to the child getting in the way of its father’s rage, and bearing its brunt. (I know I’m not the only woman who put my child between myself and the one who wanted to strangle me, in the vain hope that he would cease his tyranny, for the love of his child.) And my hopes were dashed in the instant it took for me to recognise my mistake. A child will be used to fuel the rage, in an attempt to control its mother.
We know that people who have no power and no control over their lives, people who have been deprived of choice, opportunity, self expression, growth, education, purpose and health will enact and act out their life situations anyway they can. This is not an excuse, but it is a matter of survival.
Those who have suffered react to that suffering in a range of ways, depending on the avenues of expression that are open to them. To move out of the status quo and into an unknown way of being requires luck, perseverance, assistance and courage. It doesn’t work to say that women should take their children, leave, and set up homes elsewhere. In any case, they have tried that, and the men simply follow. Where else are they supposed to go? Will it heal communities to further fragment families?
I wrote two poems to express my fury at what I thought my tutor was suggesting, in claiming that it is only our world view and the culture we grew up in, that determines whether “rape” is an act of evil.
I’d also like to point out the prevalence of rape and child abuse as it appears in the western Bible, often with no commentary or condemnation. I question my tutor’s stand even more, in light of these examples. Who decided that “rape” for those who live in the western world, is a reprehensible act? And when did this occur? Is it only to do with dowries, transactions and ownership of the female by the male? Why do we continue to victimise the victims, as though they are to blame for their own victimisation? That was the message I took away from these linguistics tutorials.
To my Tutor #1
©Melina Magdalena (1996)
I’m studying linguistics, you see.
Here’s a demonstration of the power of language.
Two men sitting, one a tutor, one a student
feebly batting back and forth
words like rape and good and bad and evil and loaded
ideas about language taboos and cultural realities
I heard the tutor ask him
“so is rape always evil; what about rape in war?”
“I don’t believe in evil” says the student
“yes, but surely you accept that one’s society puts
constraints on what is construed
as all right and what is unacceptable?”
(Ah, I say to myself,
the despair is descending upon me.)
So rape is sometimes good?
So rape in war is justified?
And the perpetual war against women is all that makes
this discussion acceptable.
(And when was either of you two raped?)
(Melodrama. Trigger back into the nightmare.)
“I have overcome great obstacles to be here today.”
(Loopy tragic thoughts frantic spiral doodles)
resolutely break those chains that train of thought ...
NOW!
“I don’t want to waste this hour on remembering.
I am not here to indulge in self pity.
I came here today to further my learning.
It took me years to accept the existence of evil.
To my Tutor #2
©Melina Magdalena (1997)
The fact that you revealed
your prejudice to all assembled
the fact that you revealed
your stupidity and lack of compassion
the fact that you revealed
without discretion or reflection
Is proof unto itself of where you-man speak from
The fact that you spoke
of the rape of woman
the fact that you spoke
where all of us could hear
the fact that you spoke
as though we did not exist
Is proof unto itself that you-man think you rule
The fact that you made claims
with complete disregard
The fact you made claims
on your own beliefs only
The fact you made claims
as though only your claims counted
Is proof unto itself that you think rape is man’s right
The fact that you did not
inquire as to woman’s view
The fact that you did not
invite us into discussion
The fact that you did not
view our experience as relevant
Is proof until itself that you think women deserve to be raped
Now I could go further and claim
that you are a rapist in thought
Now I could go further and claim
that thought is incriminating enough
Now I could go further and claim
that you hate and fear women like me
Your dry intellectualism gave you permission
To state your beliefs far beyond the boundaries
of what is acceptable, tolerable and professional
The fact that I said nothing at the time speaks clearly for itself.
“Indigenous groups warn violence worsening”, (ABC ONLINE) URL: http://www.abc.net.au/news/newsitems/200605/s1640083.htm (viewed online, 18/5/2006)
©Melina Magdalena (2006)
a plea for compassion, empathy, understanding, hope and action
In the mid-1990s I began to study linguistics at university. The format of the course involved one lecture and one tutorial each week. One of the things our tutor worked hard to impress upon us was the concept that language reflects the world which created it, in which that language continues to evolve. The tutor chose to instruct us in this concept by using “rape” as an idea that only exists in a certain cultural framework.
His thesis was that we who look at what happens to the women and children in other cultures get outraged by “rape” because we mistakenly attribute the same connotations and understandings and attitudes to what we observe taking place there, when in fact for the people in those cultures, there is no wrongdoing and no need for outrage, because there is no such thing as “rape”.
I was reminded this week of the deep rage and sadness this triggered in me, with the media frenzy over child sexual abuse and domestic violence in Aboriginal communities of the Northern Territory. The woman who impressed me most was Betty Pearce, who is quoted saying “Anger is so great because this is not an Aboriginal culture. Even 20 years ago, 22 years ago, had an Aboriginal person done that he’d have been killed, had he raped a child.”
Child sexual abuse and domestic violence are present in all sectors of Australian society, and it is significant that media excitement about these issues on Aboriginal communities is hyped to such an extent, when the people involved say that action is needed now (and twenty years ago), not just more talking. Otherwise, domestic violence and child sexual abuse hardly rate a mention in Australian media except when they involve gruesome murder suicides.
We know that rape is not about claiming one’s traditional rights to a child bride. Nor is rape about sex. Rape is about power.
We know that domestic violence, which is when one’s spouse, child, or lover enforces a reign of terror in one’s daily life, is about control. We know that the perpetrator of domestic violence does everything he can to maintain control over those under his power. When verbal abuse is not sufficient, he resorts to physical, sexual, social, financial and spiritual abuse.
As a mother, the impulse to appeal to a child’s father’s better judgment can lead to the child getting in the way of its father’s rage, and bearing its brunt. (I know I’m not the only woman who put my child between myself and the one who wanted to strangle me, in the vain hope that he would cease his tyranny, for the love of his child.) And my hopes were dashed in the instant it took for me to recognise my mistake. A child will be used to fuel the rage, in an attempt to control its mother.
We know that people who have no power and no control over their lives, people who have been deprived of choice, opportunity, self expression, growth, education, purpose and health will enact and act out their life situations anyway they can. This is not an excuse, but it is a matter of survival.
Those who have suffered react to that suffering in a range of ways, depending on the avenues of expression that are open to them. To move out of the status quo and into an unknown way of being requires luck, perseverance, assistance and courage. It doesn’t work to say that women should take their children, leave, and set up homes elsewhere. In any case, they have tried that, and the men simply follow. Where else are they supposed to go? Will it heal communities to further fragment families?
I wrote two poems to express my fury at what I thought my tutor was suggesting, in claiming that it is only our world view and the culture we grew up in, that determines whether “rape” is an act of evil.
I’d also like to point out the prevalence of rape and child abuse as it appears in the western Bible, often with no commentary or condemnation. I question my tutor’s stand even more, in light of these examples. Who decided that “rape” for those who live in the western world, is a reprehensible act? And when did this occur? Is it only to do with dowries, transactions and ownership of the female by the male? Why do we continue to victimise the victims, as though they are to blame for their own victimisation? That was the message I took away from these linguistics tutorials.
To my Tutor #1
©Melina Magdalena (1996)
I’m studying linguistics, you see.
Here’s a demonstration of the power of language.
Two men sitting, one a tutor, one a student
feebly batting back and forth
words like rape and good and bad and evil and loaded
ideas about language taboos and cultural realities
I heard the tutor ask him
“so is rape always evil; what about rape in war?”
“I don’t believe in evil” says the student
“yes, but surely you accept that one’s society puts
constraints on what is construed
as all right and what is unacceptable?”
(Ah, I say to myself,
the despair is descending upon me.)
So rape is sometimes good?
So rape in war is justified?
And the perpetual war against women is all that makes
this discussion acceptable.
(And when was either of you two raped?)
(Melodrama. Trigger back into the nightmare.)
“I have overcome great obstacles to be here today.”
(Loopy tragic thoughts frantic spiral doodles)
resolutely break those chains that train of thought ...
NOW!
“I don’t want to waste this hour on remembering.
I am not here to indulge in self pity.
I came here today to further my learning.
It took me years to accept the existence of evil.
To my Tutor #2
©Melina Magdalena (1997)
The fact that you revealed
your prejudice to all assembled
the fact that you revealed
your stupidity and lack of compassion
the fact that you revealed
without discretion or reflection
Is proof unto itself of where you-man speak from
The fact that you spoke
of the rape of woman
the fact that you spoke
where all of us could hear
the fact that you spoke
as though we did not exist
Is proof unto itself that you-man think you rule
The fact that you made claims
with complete disregard
The fact you made claims
on your own beliefs only
The fact you made claims
as though only your claims counted
Is proof unto itself that you think rape is man’s right
The fact that you did not
inquire as to woman’s view
The fact that you did not
invite us into discussion
The fact that you did not
view our experience as relevant
Is proof until itself that you think women deserve to be raped
Now I could go further and claim
that you are a rapist in thought
Now I could go further and claim
that thought is incriminating enough
Now I could go further and claim
that you hate and fear women like me
Your dry intellectualism gave you permission
To state your beliefs far beyond the boundaries
of what is acceptable, tolerable and professional
The fact that I said nothing at the time speaks clearly for itself.
“Indigenous groups warn violence worsening”, (ABC ONLINE) URL: http://www.abc.net.au/news/newsitems/200605/s1640083.htm (viewed online, 18/5/2006)
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