(c) Melina Magdalena 2007
Reflecting upon the so-called "gay marriage debate" (the opposing sides are not speaking to one another), my first marriage proposal came to mind. I was 15, visiting relatives in East Berlin. I was up in the bedroom of ny second cousin, Albrecht Lachmann (1967-2002). He had just finished playing for me, his blackmarket recording of Pink Floyd's The Wall . Albrecht burned with a passionate desire for freedom. In my callow state of ignorant, apolitical, inhibited youth I rejected his proposal.
I first met Albrecht when he was 8 and I was 6. He used to take violin lessons. I was visiting Germany with my parents and siblings. My mother had reconnected with her father for the first time since he left the USA in the wake of his divorce from my grandmother Ruth. My mother's father Christof Lucchesi was the brother of Albrecht's mother's father, Immo Lucchesi.
Seven years later, I still had only a dim understanding of what it meant to live in a police state like the German Democratic Republic. I knew fresh food was chronically short, travel was restricted, the currency was practically worthless outside the USSR, and that families remained divided across the internal German borders.
I heard murmurings from Onkel Immo and his wife, Tante Ursul.... Albrecht was only making things more difficult for himself, with his attitude. All students were forced to study the Russian language. Only by excelling in this subject, could a young person be guaranteed a chance at further study and a career.
I had also met another young second cousin, whose name I have regrettably forgotten. She lived in Dresden with her mother. Her chances of further study were nil, due to the fact that her father had defected from East Germany after divorcing her mother. The justification for this? Bear in mind - there were no secrets about her plight. There was no chance for her to resist the decisions imposed on her by the police state in which she lived. The already slim chance this young woman might find a way to join her father in West Germany had been increased by a mere smidgeon. Therefore the East German government deemed it a fruitless exercise on their part to educate this young woman.
Here in South Australia, we do not labour under a police state. But the rules and restrictions that the state and federal governments impose upon our people, young and old still have those affected chafing at the bits of their confinement.
In the case of my teenagers, both have chosen to focus upon the mandatory learning of "Australian Studies" as the site of their resistance. Australian Studies is a Year 10 subject. My son weasled his way out of taking it last year, by becoming overinvolved with cricket - a legitimate passion. However, he was forced to take the subject this year as a Year 11 student. My daughter took the subject during the first semester of this year. She is currently a Year 10 student.
Their tactics of resistance are lamentably crude. I would have to say they are ineffective in so far as their rage is enacted against their teacher, poor thing, who has to mark their work and cajole them to do any work before she has anything to mark. From what I've heard, neither of their Australian Studies teachers has been too impressed, impassioned or informed about what wisdom, history and values she is supposed to be imparting to these youngsters. One of them focused her curriculum almost entirely on US Indigenous issues; the other asked her students to produce a piece of work about imported species. Perhaps the teachers are sneakily resisting in their own way.
I cannot resist posting this example of resistance by a South Australian teenager. The task was supposed to be 1000 words long.
For this illustrious example of academic excellence my very smart teenager received a grand total of 7 (out of 20). I suppose this is Recorded Achievement, at its best.
I believe the best acts of political resistance are personal. I believe these may be acts of outstanding courage and fortitude, but they do not need to be showy spectacles that draw the awed attention of passersby. Most importantly, effective acts of political and personal resistance must not hurt the actor more than he or she would be hurt by not resisting. Yes, there are times and there are situations where people risk their lives in order to stand for what they believe in; this usually takes the form of standing against what they disbelieve. But there are many ways in which ordinary, humble, brave, optimistic human beings may resist the seductive pull of conformity, the thrall of convention, and the deadly boredom of only ever doing what others expect of you.
Hence, Loved Up!.
