Like many others, the war in Gaza and the failure of the Voice referendum have been at the front of my thoughts for the past few weeks. I’m thinking a lot about the many forms that solidarity can take, the difference between showing and enacting that solidarity. Trying to be a good ally while realising that there are limits to allyship as a model. With Tarnanthi on in Tarntanya right now the city has been filled with Blak excellence and I’ve been seeing some of the strength and power of First Nations communities in action, and witnessing the way that the arts can become a space for self-determination. I have also been witnessing all the actions in solidarity with Palestinians around the world, and I know that they are having an impact.
The differences between the stories this country tells about itself and the lived reality are sometimes thrown into stark light. Part of colonisation’s legacy is this experience of living in a half-lit time, relying on a weak and confabulated history. That dimness, that weakness make us easy to manipulate, they make us lazy. I feel sorely disappointed in settler Australia’s failure to accept the generous offer of the Uluru Statement, to accept that gift of hospitality. I think it has shed a useful light on some limits in thinking, in activism, in forms of allyship and of apology. As settlers we need to do better, and we need to do more.
Even when it feels inadequate, doing something is almost always better than doing nothing. I have written to my MP and the foreign minister, added my signature to this open letter from artists in support of an immediate ceasefire in Gaza, signed this petition calling for the same, bought a t-shirt from the excellent Hollie Moly of Workers Art Collective to help raise funds for the APHEDA Union Aid Abroad Emergency Appeal for Gaza, raised awareness about the journalists who have been killed and who are being targeted along with their families, and walked safely through my neighbourhood, listening to the bombs fall in the background of interviews on Democracy Now. For the last couple of days communications access in Gaza was cut off. Like many others, I am thinking a lot about voices, and who gets heard. Now is not a time to go quiet. It a time to speak up, and a time to make room and hold the mic for those directly affected.
These urgent, eternal questions of solidarity and allyship will no doubt shape some of the discussion at the Bodies of Work symposium taking place this week at Vitalstatistix. I am looking forward to this event which brings artists, unions, policy folks and activists together to talk about our histories and futures and build some strength. We need it!
I have been helping out with organising this event and will be speaking on a panel on Thursday about cultural labour and organising and then hosting an In Conversation with the wonderful Melinda Rackham about the ongoing feminist project CoUNTess which addresses inequities in the arts and beyond. The event runs for three days and the full program is up at the Vitals website – I hope you can join us.
Also on Wednesday I’ll be launching Nicholas Jose’s brilliant new book The Idealist, which looks at the legacy of Australia’s influence in East Timor. It’s a book about moral complexity, about honour and influence and the impossible choices individuals face in the midst of geopolitical forces. It feels very timely. Come and hear Nick read from The Idealist at The Wheaty on November 1 from 7pm.
