(c) Melina Magdalena (2013)
To the Hijab-wearing woman who was handing out Labor
How-to-Vote cards at St Brigid’s polling booth in Kilburn today.
Dear Sister,
I want you to know that you hurt me today. It was not a big
hurt, and it was not the first time that I have felt hurt, but it is not
excusable. You need to know that although I forgive you for hurting me, the feeling
lingers and will not go away.
While I fit into your framework, you were friendly and kind.
You talked to me about our baby and our son. More than once, as our eyes met,
you smiled at me, and I smiled back. I felt good about participating in my
country’s democratic traditions with you. I applauded your active involvement
in local politics. I admired your tactful way of approaching voters. I felt
grateful for your confidence in steering frail, elderly voters towards the
front of the queue, despite the resentful grumblings of the crowd, grumblings I
am sure you were aware of.
You fit thus into my framework: I imagine you are an educated
Muslim woman, perhaps a refugee, perhaps a migrant, though not recent. Having
spoken with you, I know that Australian English is not your first language. I
guess from your accent and the style of your clothing that Farsi or Dari may be
your mother tongue. I see your familiarity with the voting process, and your
determination to take part, by distributing how-to-vote cards for the political
party of your choice. I imagine you have loved many babies and children in your
time – perhaps your own, perhaps those of your extended family.
I can imagine excuses for your behaviour and the way that you
hurt me, but I am not confident that one of my imaginary scenarios happens to
be the correct one. All I know is what I experienced, and I call it bigotry.
What you don’t know about me doesn’t really matter. You don’t
need to know how passionately I defend the rights of refugees, asylum seekers,
migrants and people whose first language is not English. You don’t need to know
my religious background. You don’t need to know my private business, or even
that I am probably the neighbour most likely to give you the time of day when
you pass by my house; most likely to offer you the produce from my own garden.
Perhaps you are the survivor of frequent attacks upon your
identity as a Muslim woman in Australia? Perhaps it takes immense courage for
you to step out in a public forum and present yourself as one Australian
amongst many, when you know that you are constantly being judged for the way
you choose to dress? Perhaps there is trouble in your community or your family;
trouble that you may believe stems from the differences between your traditions
and culture, and the multicultural, pluralist society of the country in which
you now live? Perhaps you feel threatened by the invisible differences between
us, or embarrassed that you somehow misread the codes and misinterpreted who I
am?
Whatever the reason is, you judged me. You ceased to meet my
gaze. You began to treat me as a non-person, someone unworthy of your
attention. I know the moment at which your judgment fell upon me. It was when
my partner replied to your question, of whether I was her sister. She answered
you openly and truthfully. She chose not to lie, or obscure the truth of our
relationship. She explained to you that our sons have two mothers.
I don’t know precisely what you felt. Were you embarrassed,
disgusted, ashamed? Were you afraid of us? Did you think that speaking to us
might somehow taint your purity and threaten your faith? Sister, I hope your
faith and your identity are stronger than that. For all you know, some of the
voters to whom you so courteously and sweetly handed your how-to-vote cards
were racists, criminals, atheists, paedophiles, murderers and wife-beaters. I
am none of those.
If I am the first lesbian you have ever met, I want you to
know that you hurt me with your bigotry. It was narrow, mean and unnecessary.
You met me with your sudden hostility when I had approached you in sisterhood
and friendliness. I feel angry, and I feel hurt. Shame on you.
In peace, and offered with blessings,
Melina Magdalena
(The woman in the Greens shirt who was handing out
How-to-Vote cards with you at St Brigid’s polling booth in Kilburn today.)
