Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Bogan Pride, Humanity’s Disgust.

I wrote this a fair while ago, but it's still valid...

Bogan Pride, Humanity’s Disgust.

bogan: n. ‘slang word for dirty and rude person/s.

pride: n. ‘a feeling of elation or satisfaction at achievements, qualities or possessions, etc that do one credit.

Excuse me sir”, said the young upper class gentlemen to the scruffy Bogan man wearing no shoes. “Unfortunately, I must inform you that your dirty and rude qualities do not do you any credit”.

Bogan Pride, created by comedienne Rebel Wilson, is a television comedy skit show produced with a quirky; over-exaggerate view of the school and social life of a teenage ‘bogan’ and her alike family. Although in understanding the ‘extreme comedy’ approach this show has taken for our entertainment purposes such as the exaggeration of bodily chaffing to smell like hot meals, somewhere along the continuum we must draw the line and I propose that the exploitive representation of abuse within respite care for people with disabilities for distasteful and inappropriate entertainment values marks that line.

I recently wrote a letter to the team at Bogan Pride expressing my disgust and dissatisfaction with this issue. I explained that I believe that not only does the disabled population deserve better representation, but also the general public should be treated with a higher level of humour rather than to laugh at the exploitation of others. However I am now compelled to feel more disappointment in my fellow first world citizens, due to the lack of support that I received. I am disappointed that the fellow citizens I spoke out to asking for help did not seem to acknowledge the importance of this situation and had little faith that any change could come from any efforts, and therefore did nothing. These are the same fellow citizens that demand this exploitation for their nightly entertainment; that encourage the outrageous use of inappropriate materials for their own selfish values.

However, this is not only the full burden of Bogan Pride, but also many comedy movies and television shows exploiting the disadvantaged; poor, disabled, socially excluded, etc; for a laugh, with the general public contributing towards the encouragement for further exploitation, all in the name of entertainment.

I, of course, received no reply to my letter explaining my disappointment, however that was highly anticipated. What’s one less viewer anyway, right? Wrong. The Australian public has the abilities to make change in the mainstream entertainment, which is the prime target group for advertising mediums, and one less viewer, means one more person that is unhappy with the entertainment shown of TV, and therefore, will not have that one person’s support for the show.

Media and entertainment, as the main portal into guiding the future generations and we, as nurturers not only for the future generations, but the future for ourselves also, have social responsibilities to accept; to set the ground rules for the future; the guidelines for making change; the course of action for a better world. Act now.

Daddy's Princess

She waits. She waits for him. Standing there in the cold, lacking warmth. No blankets could fulfill the warmth that she needs. As she peers through the window, she begins to burn from the inside out. Her heart was on fire as she sees him. From the outside of his heart, she sees him. By a fire, warm with love with his new family. The ones that she was replaced by, as she stands, locked out side of his heart. Waiting, waiting, anticipating the moment when he'll open the locks and reach for her with caring, loving and outstretched arms. She waits.

There is a small child. She looks up at her father with the same glistening blue eyes as he has, admiring his strength, personality, love - and in one brief moment, there is a connection between them, a connection, that is unbreakable.

When she was young, she used to be daddy's little girl. To him, she did no wrong. The love they shared was amazing. It was relationship that some people would only ever dream of having. But as time moved on, that relationship began to change. It started when he moved out, to be closer to work. Then he slowly began to visit only twice a week... only once a week, down to the occasional phone call. They began to drift apart.

More years pass and her parents break up and her father, within less that 2 weeks of him leaving, her father was engaged to another woman and had unofficially adopted her children as his very own. She is no longer his responsibility; he feels that his new children now come first. She is lost, confused. She is disappointed. She is hurt and she now feels disposable. That same girl, 5 years on, now a young lady, again looks up at her father with the same glistening blue eyes as he has, with the same love and hope as before, but this time she sees something different. She sees an immature, cowardly and irresponsible man. Her heart breaks to know that the man she once knew as her hero, her father, the man that accepted her as his responsibility, can throw all her loving thoughts of him away in an instance, with one word, with one action.

To feel that he has disposed of her. A disposable responsibility, like unfinished business that he couldn't be bothered seeing through... to be rejected by someone you love so much. That man will never be seen the same through those glistening blue eyes. She sees him there, he seems familiarly but yet, completely unknown to her.

Her aching heart continually increases every time she is reminded of his mistakes, his new family and his new life. She is left struggling for attention, continually pushing and craving for that fatherly love that is not longer there. Although she is not alone, with a wonderful family, the one thing that she needs for her life to feel complete, is the one simple ting that her arms are too short to reach.

She cries, but he doesn't hear her. She reaches for him, but he pulls away. She speaks, but his ears won't listen.

The aching in her heart continually increases every time she is reminded of his mistakes and his new family. But you see, he doesn't see wrong in his actions. To him, he has done nothing hurtful, spiteful or unforgivable. His conscious doesn't tell him when he is hurting her. He does not understand how she us unforgiving of his decisions. She wants him. He doesn't want her. She wants his love. He doesn't understand.

That girl will never see her father the same again. She will never feel the same towards him again. She will never be strong enough to rebuild that unbreakable connection with him.

She waits. She waits. The fire inside burns out and she can see the family sleeping, dreaming beautiful, sweet dreams. As the last of the coal burns to dust, she stands there. Locked outside hid heart, waiting and waiting. Forever waiting and anticipating the moment when he'll open the locks and reach for her with caring, loving and outstretched arms. She will wait.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Just my views on things. Take it, or leave it.

I am simply me. Yes, I’m 19 years old. Yes I still live with my mother after a failed attempt to move out of home, and yes, that was me eating spoonfuls of Milo in the kitchen at work. No, I don’t smoke. No, I don’t drink. No, I’m not abnormal, I’m simply me. Yes, I do care. Take it, or leave it.

I would, however, like a keyboard. Unfortunately, to my demise, my younger sister has publicly announced that she would like an electric keyboard for Christmas, and now with this statement, if I was to acquire my own, it would be on the terms of ‘copying’ her, and me as the oldest child, doesn’t want to seem as if I am that desperate to be “hip” that I would stoop so low as to appear that I would be ‘copying’ my sisters intentions. Damn it. I wish I had said it first.

If I were an elephant, I would stomp all my problems away. Squish emotional torture; squish worldly injustices; squish some of my family members. Squish mainstream society’s views on everything. Squish, squish… SQUISH! My, wouldn’t I feel better. Now… why aren’t I an elephant?

It’s because I’m cursed! Or perhaps, not blessed… but either way it’s not good and I don’t like it. This is my view. Why must I continue to carry on in a world where millions of people are suffering from poverty, hunger, homelessness, war, violence, terror, greed, guilt, social degradation, supremacy and yet, I am filled with sadness for my petty little life. A life that is safe, adored, tried and purposeful – or is it? I spend my days mulling over cups of earl grey and peppermint teas about how best I can work for a better future for the world and yet nearly every day, am discouraged by selfish and ignorant people that fill my heart with shame. I care, I do, but how strong can one be against such ridiculous purpose-killers and those who can’t see past their beady little lives? Already, I am beginning to loose my passion, because I don’t think my kind-heart will last in a world of shame, a world where your pre-determined social status and the people-fuelled-ridicule plans out your future, when there are so many more important things on this beautiful Earth that we may take for granted.

I am often saddened. Saddened by the fact that my cute little four dollar, size ten knickers I recently bought on sale from Best and Less are in fact too small for my ever-growing large bottom. Saddened that there is a global food crisis and yet there is also a ‘first-world global’ obesity crisis. Saddened by the fact that I am continually discouraged by people I love and people I care about. Saddened that I don’t have anyone to comfort me when I’m low and to listen when I need to talk. Saddened that my sister got in first for the keyboard request and saddened to realise that we live in a world where people just don’t care.

I came across a display plaque designed by Kelly Lane recently that says: “You have two hands, one to help yourself and the second to help others”, of which I was inspired and filled with love for my fellow man and the position that I may be in to be able to help.

Determined to not give up, I bought this little encourager, along with my organic peppermint and lemongrass soap, and walked out the store with a brightened mind that it is possible to remain committed, because people are worth it. And as I left the shopping centre ready for home, a car drove past me with a little girl slumping over the back passenger side window holding an up-side down rude finger at me, and shifting her eyes as to see if her parents could see what she was up to, and I said to myself “Yes. This whole save humanity is definitely worth fighting for. This is what I want to do.”

A collection of positive fuel feeders are definitely needed. I recently signed up to sponsor a child in India and her photo helps to ground my thoughts about why I do what I do and why I can become a part of the people fighting for a better future. There are many feel good stories, articles, music and movies out there and I thought it definitely appropriate to share mine too, because it’s not easy always fighting for justice and equality and fairness, but it’s something that needs to be done or the world is doomed forever. How irresponsible is man to allow certain issues to get as far as they are without taking dominant, positive action towards making a change for the better?

I don’t have a keyboard and I can’t see myself getting one in the near future. I am not an elephant, and I don’t think I’m “unblessed” or cursed but I am stuck between the ‘conforming to society’s standards in order to have a chance to change the world’ and ‘standing up for what I believe in and having a harder time making change’ – and it’s not easy when you hit this spot, and I’m working towards finding those positive fuel feeders – that daring, cheeky little car girl as one to start. This was naughty, yes, however allowing children the chance to grow and learn and discover is the key to the future, and I will remember her gesture when life’s decisions begin to get tough. And just in case you were interested, yes, that really was me in the kitchen at work eating Milo by the spoonful.

Keep up the good fight and think of the little things that may make the fight a little easier for you, or, you are welcome to share my thoughts.

Many positive fuel feeders,