Last night I rallied with thousands of other Melbournians who share a belief that humanity is created equal, that we Australia, have boundless plains to share and want to not only sing that in chorus but courageously act upon it and lobby our government to do so by increasing the number of refugees we agree to settle. This one night won't make a huge difference in the scheme of things- in reality standing in the cold with a sea of candles does not constitute grand action. It does however, form a part, a picture of the message-spreading we must relentlessly engage in. In a western world where it is only too easy to make choices that disconnect us from the reality of the wider world, or to shroud ourselves in amusement and entertainment and our own pursuits, it is a big shift to engage in the fight for refugees and do so with conviction. I am guilty of this- I must confess I have removed myself so far from these situations that it's like I need to be physically punched to feel the sickness that should naturally wash over me as I saw the picture of 3yr old Aylan washed hopelessly and helplessly onto that shore. I want to feel deeply, to love with sincerity and to use my resources to help in the capacity im enabled to- but the tool behind this is KNOWLEDGE. Let's stop shutting our minds, let's stop being scared of the stories of suffering, let's listen to someone's story, their journey, the refugee in your local neighbourhood or on the bus who has to wear a mask and struggle to find a niche in this complex culture. This means I've gotta ask. I've gotta choose to ask their story when there's a million other things I could be doing. I want to unashamedly sing "for those who've come across the seas we've boundless plains to share" as a proud Australian citizen- and sing that with integrity. It's one thing to lobby our government to alter policy but another and equally important thing, to convey a welcoming attitude to those who ARE here. To be welcoming, not hostile to be available not distant.
To finish this post, I will reflect on my somewhat sleepless night. After the #lighththenight rally, I travelled home, read up on previous notes from refugee health events i'd engaged in, and prayed. I brought these people to their Maker and then I closed my eyes. Moments later I found myself in a crowded room next to a hidden boat ramp. I was told I'd be on the second boat, two boats would leave that night anytime from 7pm as we had to wait til dark. Eventually the first one went, I said goodbye and blessed those who were to leave and I prepared my essentials- priorities for what to take were based on survival: the 10hr journey was anticipated to be very cold and so I got a beanie, gloves, 2 layers of clothing and a jacket, I was told there wasn't room for more. Finally I was ready but I also wasn't. I worried I'd be cold, I worried about what was happening next, and I wondered why on earth this was happening when I took a last look at the fading boat where 2 dozen people lay supine on the floor of the boat- no room to move at all. One of my closest friends was in that boat, he looked back at me with a sad smile. Even as I waited for my boat with a family of Pakistani friends and another very close friend I worried that we wouldn't be warm enough, I was so anxious. And then I heard we'd wait another whole day because the second boat was not coming this night after all. Tomorrow night at 7pm. I hoped our money wasn't in vain. Worried and waiting.
And then I woke.
I don't know what this dream meant but I feel like it made me get in touch with the refugee experience more, and get a more tangible glimpse of their reality: it was mild but by combining this surreal experience with my knowledge and with the personal stories I've heard, the issue is coming closer to home.
I am a blessed and privileged woman.
It's not my right to live as if in ignorance.
I am called to stand up for the rights of the poor and needy.
I am called to love and welcome.
