Happy Belated Mother's Day

I met with my mum today for a belated mother’s day. We normally don’t talk about anything of consequence as she has a tendency to tell me about her friends, many of whom I haven’t met or haven’t seen since I was a kid, and what they’re up to or retell old stories that she’s told me a squillion times.

Today, somehow we ended up talking about race politics and how Australia is racist, especially compared to our comparably more powerful white dominated countries of the United Kingdom and the USA. We spoke about how there isn’t a platform to talk about it and in fact there is quite a bit of white complicity in keeping any thoughts you might have about speaking out quashed.

We spoke about different things and she quoted George Negus from his book The World From Islam in which he had said something to the effect that despite our media having us believe that Islam is the opposition – and not the kind like a netball match where we can all shake hands afterwards (even if it is with fake smiles and congratulations) – the ‘problems’ we see in the media come from approximately 1% of the population of Muslims – the extremists or the fundamentalists. 

She mentioned a time when she was out with one of her craft friends and how another woman in the conversation was declaring that she would have to move out of her neighbourhood because of some Muslim people moving into it. My mum inhaled and opened her mouth to protest but before being able to speak her friend had raised her Hitler-style hand and let out a ‘heil’ or maybe it was a ‘hey’ in prevention of my mother being allowed to speak her mind. My mum, not usually being about to be stifled, sat there in shock and thought about that moment for the rest of the day and clearly days to come until now when she was relaying it to me.

She then, however, went on to tell me about the announcer on the train and how she just couldn’t understand a thing he had said. She clarified that she didn’t want to stop accented people from having a job but they should just have jobs where they didn’t have to talk.

Having experienced the earlier rare moment of bonding and empathy at her being silenced, I decided to remain silent myself at this point. Maybe I could keep this day of celebrating motherness – albeit belated – a day of victory rather than a day of pedantry. One step forward, one step back (or it might have been four steps back – but my pedantry will stop there).

The conversation then turned to the shop on Victoria Road as we passed it and how she had always wanted to go in there but never had because she was always too tired on her way home on the bus, followed by the apartments at Top Ryde Shopping Centre being overpriced and the unknown future occupancy of the old council chambers and her disbelief at the State Government vetoing the Local Council’s decision at keeping housing commission buildings capped at whatever number of storeys. Oh, and this was bookended by one final comment on the weather and how winter was creeping up despite the hot sunny day we had had. She would be digging out the heater tonight and putting on her possum socks.

Happy Belated Mother’s Day… keep up the fight…