Tag: Ethnocultural Edition

Finding Dignity: An Exploration of Mental Illness Through Bharathanatyam
June 18, 2017 11:06 pm Comments Off on Finding Dignity: An Exploration of Mental Illness Through Bharathanatyam
Back in October 2015, I remember sitting with my mother at a table in a hawker centre enjoying some fabulous local Singaporean food when she mentioned an idea that she had; she wanted to create her own dance production. My mother has been dancing Bharathanatyam – a major Indian classical dance that originated in Tamil Nadu – since the age of 12. But she didn’t want to follow the traditional, Hindu religious and spiritual themes that typically characterise Bharathanatyam. Instead, she wanted to capitalise on what she saw as the art form’s potential in raising awareness about mental illness among the Indian community in Singapore where stigma surrounding mental health is prevalent. My mother, Lalitha Venketasubramanian, got in touch with psychiatrists and mental health organisations, as well as choreographers, musicians and dancers to make this happen. Ten months later, her vision finally became a reality.
I had the privilege of catching a 6.30am flight to Singapore on Saturday, 22 October 2016 to witness the final result of months of planning, back-and-forth e-mails and rehearsals. I caught the train from Changi Airport to the School of the Arts Theatre Studio and arrived right on time for the first show at 7.30pm, and left for the airport once the second show ended the next evening. It was a hectic weekend – not to mention the assignment I had due in the middle of it – but it was worth every second.
Finding Dignity focuses on the relationship between a mother and her daughter, who has schizophrenia. Over six scenes, titled, ‘Normal’, ‘Descent’, ‘Denial’, ‘Stigma’, ‘Conversation’ and ‘A New Normal’ respectively, the production follows the growth of the young girl as she navigates the effects of the illness on her life and relationships, and grapples with experiences of helplessness, isolation and ostracisation by friends.
The depth of emotion conveyed through dance brought tears to my eyes. One scene which depicted figures with dark cloths running around the girl as a reflection of her confusion and terror stands out in my mind as being particularly confronting to watch.
The performance is an hour and fifteen minutes in length and was followed on both days by a discussion with psychiatrists and panellists from mental health organisations such as the Singapore Association for Mental Health (SAMH) and Institute of Mental Health (IMH). The audience was given the opportunity to pose questions to the experts about how to support loved ones and provided a platform for common misunderstandings about mental health and illness to be dispelled. I was thrilled to see some familiar faces among the 220-strong crowd, and it was very well-received by those who attended it.
While a success, the performance was not without its issues. In choosing to explore mental illness through Bharathanatyam, the creative team was met with the challenge of maintaining the traditional form of dance as far as possible, without compromising the integrity of the story and message of the production. For example, the depiction of the symptoms of schizophrenia by a woman-identifying character through an art form which portrays women in very specific roles was difficult – but nonetheless navigated well through excellent choreography and creative narration. According to the creator and producer (of both the production, as well as myself), Lalitha: ‘When I came up with the storyline, I was already aware of the nature of Bharathanatyam having performed it for so many years. It came together well because we approached it such that the story flows seamlessly using the vocabulary of the dance form.’
Finding Dignity brings a taboo topic to a specific group of people whom may not have previously considered the importance of mental health and fighting stigma associated with it. While recognising that Bharathanatyam isn’t universal among Indians in Singapore, reaching out to even a small part of society is valuable to the broadening of the mental health discourse and destigmatisation of mental illness. It would also have sparked dance enthusiasts’ interest to the potential of their art in advocacy and making important messages palatable to a crowd which may not engage in protests, which are illegal in Singapore.
The production inspired Lalitha to contribute to efforts to destigmatise mental illness. She is currently working with a group of medical professionals and others to set up a mental wellness organisation catering to the Indian community in Singapore. She would still like to bring Finding Dignity to new audiences and to spread the beauty and versatility of Bharathanatyam while raising awareness of important issues.
Any questions, concerns or ideas about ‘Finding Dignity: An Exploration of Mental Illness Through Bharathanatyam’ can be directed to Sumithri Venketasubramanian (that’s me!) at sumithri.rv@gmail.com.

Sumithri Venketasubramanian
‘Black’ Hair
May 8, 2017 12:29 am Comments Off on ‘Black’ Hair
Annabelle Nshuti is a second-year science student who’d love for all of you to come to Ethnocultural Week.
Aditi Razdan is a third-year asian studies/law student who came on board to create, solicit for and edit this edition.
For the majority of her childhood and adolescence, Annabelle grew up in Mali, West Africa, so she was in a relatively homogenous environment –amongst people who, although different ethnically, had similar hair textures and experiences to her. Because of this, ‘I never felt overt pressure or experienced oppression because of my hair. I did, however, recognise the influence of Westernisation creeping into mainstream Malian and West African cosmetic culture’.
The prominent method was hair relaxing, which is using a ‘lotion or cream that makes the hair easier to straighten and manage’. It reduces the curl by breaking down the hair strand and chemically altering the texture. She would regularly relax and braid her hair, as it was more convenient to at the time.
The word convenience here is loaded, it implies there is an ‘inconvenient truth’ about ‘Black hair’, that it doesn’t fit the expectation of dominant beauty ideals. Before colonisation and Western hegemony, Black peoples and cultures had the same hair texture, minus the modern day relaxation tools. How is this? Was it not inconvenient then? We suspect the ‘unruly’ and ‘unkept’ perception of natural ‘Black’ hair came later, a result of values and beauty standards imposed by an intertwined history of slavery. Western dominance, cultural baggage and 20th and 21st-century technological advancements catapulted images of Western (see: white) standards of beauty onto every TV screen – including those owned by People of Colour. It has become so internalised that for a lot of Black communities in Western countries, relaxation is a necessary part of the daily, weekly and monthly routine.
One reason why Black hair isn’t easily dealt with, especially for Africans, is because of the scope of the management required. As Annabelle explains: ‘Our hair is naturally dry and curly, and because it doesn’t retain moisture, we must follow a strict, daily routine that involves undertaking a complex healthy hair care routine. It’s basically a university degree in hair (I’m not lying, it’s pretty damn hard)’! That’s why everyone’s experience with hair is so different, and why most keep relaxing or braiding their hair; because the alternative requires commitment, dedication, time and enthusiasm.
As Annabelle remembers, moving back to Canberra five years ago, ‘my experience was very much the same as it was in Mali, but I became more aware of the issue that is “hair politics”’. Her hair was dying because of the constant chemical tampering, and it wasn’t until two years ago that Annabelle decided to go completely natural: no relaxing or nasty chemicals to be used. Let us explain why this decision is of great significance and strength.
Western culture discriminates against all aspects that make a person ‘Black,’ and unfortunately, this means hair is negatively targeted. It’s seen as savage, untamed, untidy, and rough, and has impacted on people’s social and professional lives. In a US–centric context, which inevitably affects the global context and perception, Black hair comes with a history of trauma and mistreatment. The ‘pen test’ was used to see who’s hair was not ‘Black’ enough to hold a pen in it, and as such these slaves were seen as worthy of comparatively better treatment.
In pop culture and mass media outlets, ‘embracing your roots’ is often a theme with natural hair. In India Arie’s 2006 ‘I Am Not My Hair’ – ‘you can shave it off like a South African beauty, or get in on lock like Bob Marley; you can rock it straight like Oprah Winfrey’ – she encourages diversity amongst Black communities. Beyoncé’s ‘Lemonade’ is a seminal artistic creation, especially in African-American and Black culture, and her film illustrates the roots that African-Americans still have in Africa, and how reconciliation between both cultures can occur. But unfortunately, wearing one’s hair in its natural state is still a subversive, political act. Even though it is also simply a practical choice, the very choice is inherently political.
Recently, at a school in Melbourne, two students of South Sudanese descent were removed from school and asked to take out their braids, because it didn’t fit the ‘uniform’ policy. This all too common sentiment about what is ‘neat’ and ‘appropriate’ is a guise for what is ‘western’ and unBlack, arising from a misunderstanding of the politics of Black hair, as well as the practicalities of maintenance without chemical relaxation. After the ensuing furore, the Principal relented, making an ‘exception’ for these girls. It seems that even after the pressure, there was no true understanding of the connotations of ‘neatness’, still placing these girls’ hair in an ‘exceptional’ or ‘other’ category, rather than accepting them as part of the diversity that is hair.
The incident in Melbourne was mirrored at a school in Pretoria, South Africa, a majority Black country. This just shows how pervasive Western narratives of ‘neatness’ and ‘uniformity’ are – words that are constantly used in controversies like this, describing something far more pernicious. We will leave you to guess what that is.
On the other hand, there is this growing movement in music and festival culture, as well as ‘high fashion’ culture to wear cornrows and afros. In these cases, it is ‘edgy’ for the non-Black wearer, rather than ‘untidy’ as considered by some. Maybe this is normalising Black hair styles, but also, maybe it is unfair that it only happened at the point at which non-Black people accepted it.
But still, Annabelle is beyond enthusiastic that the Black hair movement is present and promoting discussion, and she hasn’t personally experienced a significant or daily amount of oppression or pressure that comes with it. It doesn’t bother her when someone touches her hair, but that definitely isn’t the same for everyone else – ‘I don’t want to speak on behalf of others’. It has definitely been a qualm for Black women, in particular, having their relaxed or natural hair exclaimed over and touched as if they are free for all or an object for someone’s viewing and pleasure.’
What this movement needs, as most do, is support and encouragement from within and outside; from and for People of Colour. Annabelle believes that ‘the fact that Black people feel that we can now take control and have power over our hair is excellent; whether it’s by relaxing, braiding, or shaving all of your hair off’. It’s personal and shaped by your own experiences, and all you need to do is continue on your journey. So, don’t worry about ‘neatness’, just grab your silk nightcap and deep conditioner if you’d like to join Annabelle.
It may be a political or practical act. You decide.

Annabelle Nshuti
Vox Pop: Yay or Nay to an Ethnocultural Woroni?
12:23 am Comments Off on Vox Pop: Yay or Nay to an Ethnocultural Woroni?
Because some found it upsetting to be excluded from this Woroni edition, we walked around campus and interviewed students to give them the opportunity to engage with ethnocultural issues and air their opinions on print.
***
Hi I’m Robert. My great grandmother was like Armenian, or German or something so I’m not even fully white. I just hate that people play the ethnic card all the time? Like I’m super ugly so I can empathise with the barrier to entry because I’ve had to deal with that. I’ve still got a really good part time job and excellent grades though so I’m just wondering, at what point do you start taking responsibility for yourself? That’s just my opinion.
Robert (19)
Hi I’m Sarah,
I love quinoa and I do pilates five days a week at a studio owned by my boyfriend’s brother. He’s actually so hot, we’re hooking up after classes but, actually don’t print that …
What was the question again? Oh yeah, ethnic people? Yeah, I’ve got heaps of ethnic friends, so I’m definitely not a racist. My best friend is Greek and for Easter I went to her church, she’s kind of mad because I got drunk before the service and started doing Buddhist prayers over the top of priest. Well, it was my interpretation of Buddhist chant but like, spirituality is really personal. Anyway, I’m sorry but Greek just isn’t my religion and she should respect that, and it’s kinda not my fault I found a good opportunity to open my third eye. She’s a bitch anyway.
Sarah (21)
Yeah the Irish were slaves too, and black people in America always dominate the conversation about that. I’m an equalist so I don’t understand why we must play the ‘who’s more oppressed card,’ like I have problems too and they’re really, really big ones! You wouldn’t get it. Argh whatever.
James (18)
My great grandmother was foreign so I’m like 1/16 Spanish. When I was eight I only did one flamenco class, but my mum said it’s clear that I have natural rhythm. The next class I tripped over and sprained both wrists though so I didn’t want to go after that. Anyway, I feel like I have a super strong connection to my background, I learnt Spanish in primary school, Ola! Also, I went to Barca for a week for schoolies which was neat. We all got drunk and broke into a local church! I just find it super embarrassing though when Spanish people come to Australia and like talk to me in Spanish, like you left your country for a reason, please learn the language!
Whatever.

Jessica (22)

Jasmine Mahogany-Eaglenest
A Misguided Path in Resourcing a Sustainable Future
12:22 am Comments Off on A Misguided Path in Resourcing a Sustainable Future
Australia’s economic wealth is very much based on its mining heritage: we revel in our ‘golden soil and wealth for toil.’ Mining contributes around eight per cent to Australia’s GDP and around 60 per cent of exports. It seems, then, that the Queensland Government grant of the Carmichael mining lease to Indian company Adani accords with our national pedigree to harness the bounties of the land. This has been met with significant criticism by numerous interest groups and is currently facing legal challenges. Nevertheless, the damaging nature of the Carmichael Mine must not be confused with the position of Australian mining in general. Instead, mining can and should be shifted to focus on delivering alternative energy resources, and can play a pivotal role in mapping the social, economic and environmental requirements of a sustainable future.
The Adani Carmichael Mine has socially significant and environmentally irreversible impacts. Thermal coal will be mined from shallow deposits in the Galilee Basin in central Queensland, transported by rail to the Central Queensland coast for shipment to Indian plants to generate electricity for up to 100 million people. These processes would include a proposed dredging of the Great Barrier Reef for shipping, extensive use of groundwater aquifers and development of railway lines for transportation, negatively impacting landowners. More broadly, the coal mined at Carmichael will have a discernible impact in exacerbating anthropogenic climate change.
Additionally, there is the problem of furtive corporate activity. Adani has previously engaged in questionable business practices, including inflating employment claims as well as the poor environmental record of key figures in Adani’s international business operations. Adani’s claim of 10,000 predicted direct and indirect jobs from the Carmichael Mine was rejected in the Land and Environment Court of Queensland which, instead, accepted the figure of 1,464. Key figures in Adani’s international business operations also have poor environmental track records.
For the decision-makers involved, however, the Carmichael Mine meets the ‘jobs and growth’ economic narrative. The Queensland and Federal Governments both advocate the economic benefits and jobs that the mine will bring. Therefore, the question remains on how to maintain economic responsibility and a foundation for sustainability, while addressing sustainability concerns themselves.
It is a truism that energy remains a necessity for 21st-century human society. In 2015, 86 percent of Australia’s electricity was generated from fossil fuels, whilst renewable energy makes up the remaining 14 percent. Hence, there needs to be a shift in the energy equation away from fossil fuels towards renewables. Seemingly a paradox, to build renewable energy infrastructure to replace fossil fuels, mining is necessary. From the cement used to build a hydroelectric dam to the materials used for wind turbines and solar power technology, mining is central. And while a completely renewable and sustainable future remains the ideal, there is no energy resource which produces ‘zero emissions’. All resources require input in infrastructure construction, and all require resource extraction in some capacity. Importantly, however, while the creation of infrastructure may release emissions, in the generation of energy, renewable methods produce little – if any – greenhouse gases. This contrasts with coal mining, whereby the extraction is the least omitting process while burning of fuel is the greater contributor to climate change.
This shift in this mining conception is also economically responsible. Many of the minerals required for renewable energy generation are found as by-products of current base metal mining practices, and increasing economic viability and demand will require increased mining of these resources. According to the Climate Council, both business as usual and 50 per cent dominance occupancy of renewable-derived electricity generation by 2030 is estimated to generate thousands of jobs. Critical to this is the transition for employees in fossil fuel mining to that of other industries and to aspects of mining which recognise the longevity and overall sustainability of the resources being extracted.
Decision-makers wishing to ensure the future prospects of Australia’s mining industry must look to technology and resources which better meet the sustainability picture. This includes a recognition that mining does have an inevitable role in contributing to social and environmental development and to which the practice of mining must be tailored.
The notion of ‘jobs and growth’ should not be used so cowardly whereby decision-makers embrace the past which, in turn, is destructive for the future. The continuation of the disregard for landholder rights and environmentalism in the Carmichael Mine is a backwards step in Australia’s need to unearth a sustainable future in which mining has an undeniable role. The key to the sustainability equation is something antithetical to Carmichael. That is, is conducting mining in a way which is openly communicative and which does not threaten World Heritage Sites nor the future of our planet. Mining can and should value the environmental cause, landholder rights and avoid dubious corporate subterfuge.

Matthew Teh
At the Crossroads of Identity and Faith
12:13 am Comments Off on At the Crossroads of Identity and Faith
Jonathan Tjandra is the Branch Officer for Faith and Religions for the ANU Students’ Association Clubs’ Council and blogs for politechs.com.au. This piece is a representation of personal experience and is not affiliated in any way with the Association. The most obvious and important realities are often the ones we find hardest to see or talk about. An important reality to discuss is the effect of invisible forces on the way we live, and how the structures of society affect our individual experiences and identity. I would like to share some reflections on the tensions within one’s identity. There are some aspects of my own identity which I have made obvious. For example, I am a straight male Australian of Chinese-Indonesian descent. What is less clear is how my faith plays into it, as there have been very few intersectional discussions focussing on identity and faith. On one level, it is rather trivial. I could simply say, ‘Hello, my name is Jonathan. I was born in Perth, my parents are from Indonesia, and by the way, I’m a Christian.’ However, Christianity is not generally seen as an identity in the way that being Asian is, or being male. It is perhaps self-identifying, as my experience is undoubtedly shaped by it. How does my faith interact with my identity? Being a Christian in Australia does not denote a particular ethnicity, in the way that being a Muslim might (or even a Coptic Christian in Egypt). It does signify membership in what theologians call the universal Body of Christ, which constitutes not only an identification with the institution of the Church but the identification with Christ through our faith. As Christians can be found in almost every culture and ethnicity, I identify with both a community which transcends borders and languages. One issue I struggle with is how I can justify identifying with a tradition which historically has been complicit in the oppression of minorities? The various churches claimed a moral high ground and failed the responsibility required of them: to seek justice for the oppressed, to show kindness to the weak, and to walk humbly with the Lord. To this, I can only reflect that every human institution has been involved in the oppression of minorities. All this says is that human beings have a great capacity to do evil, and the power that comes with these institutions invariably corrupts the individual. The issue ultimately boils down to an inequality of power. While there are many other claims to my identity, I can confidently say that my identity is anchored, sure and steadfast, in the Christian faith. The example of Christ completely subverts all power structures: ‘who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness.’ I believe Jesus did not come to entrench the power of institutions, the government or the rich, but to empower the weak, the poor, the sick, the sinners of the world. It is true that because of my race, I have faced discrimination, but it is through my identity in Christ that has empowered me to achieve everything I have done. Identity politics asks the right questions but does not provide the answers. In my experience, it fosters divisions and leads to a race to the bottom – a race to prove a particular group is the most oppressed, or to assert their rights over any other group. I am similarly cautious about the language of rights, as it is often used as a blunt instrument without space for complexity. If it is true that one subculture cannot understand the experiences of another group, there is no clear ranking of rights, and where the rights of various groups conflict, something must give way. Certainly, there exist rights to which every human being is entitled, but each right has a limit. My right to freedom of movement ends when the courts have judged my imprisonment is better for society than my freedom. As a Christian, liberty is limited by love. In the early church, the eating of meat sacrificed to idols was a divisive cultural issue. For some, it amounted to idol worship (and thus blasphemous), but for others, an idol holds no actual power and so eating sacrificial meat was amoral. In the First Letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, ‘[T]ake care that this right of yours does not somehow become a stumbling block to the weak.’ Paul’s was writing to the latter group to reinforce the unity of the church: don’t exercise your right to eat sacrificial food if it means your friends will have to go against their conscience. The right to exercise one’s liberties is limited by the love we should have for the people whom it affects. The tension between cultural identity and faith is another issue I have struggled with. A few years ago, my grandfather passed away and was given a traditional Chinese funeral, which among other things, includes rituals and prayers to traditional Chinese deities. These rituals are in direct conflict with my identity as a Christian, so how do I manage my rights and beliefs in the context of showing love and respect to my extended family? This is the truest expression of loving thy neighbour: we should be willing to lay down our rights and give up the things we love so that others can be empowered. Furthermore, we should be willing to bear each other’s burdens, especially to take up the cause against injustice. The identity quandary is partially resolved in Paul’s Letter to the Galatians: ‘There is neither Jew nor Greek, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.’ The identity of a Christian is founded solely upon being children of God, with all its connotations of immaturity, growth, belonging and so on. Our identity is not founded upon relationships between people, but rather the relationship with God, and in expressing that relationship through working for the common good. In Australia, where Christians form a majority, this means taking up the cause of minorities in times of harassment and oppression, even if it means giving up our own rights or opening ourselves up to marginalisation. I pray we would have the strength to look beyond our differences and to humbly consider not only our own interests but the interests of others above ourselves.

Jonathan Tjandra
Review: Shanghai Dumpling Cafe
12:11 am Comments Off on Review: Shanghai Dumpling Cafe
I’ve been hesitant to try out the several Chinese restaurants around campus for two main reasons: I was worried I might be disappointed, or worse still, that I would find a place I would really love. Unfortunately for my wallet, I think I’ve managed the latter.
On a recent Friday evening, a large group of friends and I dined at the Shanghai Dumpling Cafe, which is conveniently open until 9.30pm all week. To minimise logistics, a few friends and I ordered for the rest of the group, picking out a selection of dumplings and vegetable dishes while trying to accommodate requests: no pork, and one serving of chilli oil soup wonton. Amidst the busy chatter of the restaurant and our increasing hunger, we finally cobbled together our order for the very patient and helpful waiters.
Although the restaurant was completely packed, our dishes arrived with impressive speed. We couldn’t help but eye the steamers full of dumplings, as they were being bussed around, and once ours arrived, the excitement was palpable. The best thing about eating as a group at a place like Shanghai Dumpling Cafe is that you get the opportunity to sample a wide range of dishes. Among the 14 of us, we shared steamed prawn, beef, and chicken dumplings, chilli oil soup wonton, stir fried green vegetables with garlic, Shanghai tofu with mushrooms, and chilli eggplant.
Dumplings look deceptively easy to make, and now that they’re churned out at dizzying speeds to meet voracious demand I’m not convinced that the people making them get the credit they deserve. Too much liquid in the meat mixture? The dumplings fall apart. Poor technique in pinching the ends of the wrapper together? The dumplings fall apart. Steamed too long? You guessed it, the dumplings stick to the parchment paper when the diner tries to peel them off and, consequently, fall apart, spilling their juices.
Good dumplings can’t be frozen either; they have to be made fresh on the day or the wrapper gets hard, and the seasoned diner can tell right away. All the dumplings at Shanghai Dumpling Cafe were impeccably made, and very fresh. The crunchy prawns were enveloped in soft translucent wrappers with just the right amount of pull. After I popped the first in my mouth, I immediately regretted that we had only ordered one steamer.
A small complaint would be the rice. It didn’t come as the soft, fluffy yet distinct grains you’d hope for at a restaurant. Instead, it was clumpy in parts, like it was from the end of a batch. Nevertheless, the dishes were sufficiently delectable that this felt easily forgivable.
One trick I’ve discovered to ordering for large groups in Chinese restaurants is to order a few dishes less than the number of people, and rice for about a third. We demolished everything, everyone seemed happy, and the ridiculously cheap bill came out to just under $10 per person. I was full but not stuffed, and still able to bike uphill to get home – a successful dining experience, in my book.

Diana Tung
Onstage vs. Backstage: Theatre Contenders
12:07 am Comments Off on Onstage vs. Backstage: Theatre Contenders

In many of my shallow conversations with strangers, I am often asked how I can possibly devote my free time to doing something as difficult as acting. Always, I reply with the truth: that acting is one of the easiest aspects of theatre. That’s not to say that I’m good at it, I’m certainly not. But in terms of organising an entire production, being an actor is by far the most rewarding role. Not only do you get shit tonnes of praise at the end of a successful show, but everyone remembers what you did in your role that was so remarkable and thought-provoking. Sometimes I’m so well recognised that I’m occasionally recognised by a member of the public while buying hummus from Dickson Woolies.
In my opinion, a good actor needs three key characteristics: dedication, creativity and guts. I, however, only have dedication. You need to be willing to do whatever the director wants, whenever and however they want. Or at least have that mentality. Most of the time, you’ll have a director who wants to work with you rather than control every aspect of your performance. Depending on your role, you can expect to attend between one and four rehearsals a week over a period of two to four months. On top of that, you hold the responsibility of learning your lines as fast as possible. To satisfy the director and more importantly yourself, you must be willing to dedicate yourself to your character/s and put as much effort in as you’re hoping to get out.
Creativity is a trait you can naturally improve. Although the word immediately reminds me of all the essays where I struggled to write, it is also one of the easier characteristics to fulfil. All creativity means is that you, as an actor, are trying and willing to try things differently and add something unique to your performance and the entire production. The beauty of it is that you improve by simply pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. Years will pass before you realise how much more creative you’ve become compared to when you started.
Guts are the key driving characteristic behind every thespian’s performance. In every performance, there’s always a chance that you will mess up a line or that something could go wrong, and often something does. You need to have guts to be able to accept the risks and continue to perform. This doesn’t mean that you can’t be afraid, you just have to hide it when you’re on stage.
Once, when I was performing in a school’s production of Grease as Eugene, I was given a loose pair of blue pants along with some hideous pink suspenders that were too small for me as part of my costume. It was a recipe for disaster, because what ended up happening was that everyone could see my ‘bulge’ through the pants. But I didn’t back down from my performance or awkwardly cover myself up on stage. I accepted the fact and continued with an amazing performance that made my teachers proud. In hindsight, I should have handled this wardrobe malfunction earlier, but like I said: guts and determination rule in theatre.
The number of times I’ve been backstage regretting why it is that I decided to act as a hobby, or anxious about whether the months of preparation have been enough is shocking for someone who participates in plays and productions regularly. But it’s all a part of any actor’s performance. We learn to put aside our fears and worries to entertain the people in our community. That’s the main reason I do all of this. To entertain.
But also the praise and fame from each performance. That’s always good as well.

Synan Chohan
WISH
12:04 am Comments Off on WISH
So this was how it began; with a discoloured, pathetic patch of paper. Even after every fact I’d memorised, every cautionary tale I’d consumed, it seemed silly that this could have wrecked as much havoc as a mechanical digger’s hand slicing through the earth. A stifled chuckle of disbelief escaped my mouth as a gust of wind threatened to rip the flimsy piece out of my grasp. I’d spied it just a moment ago, a pink smudge on the edge of my vision, peeking out from the sea of sullied snow. For a moment, I contemplated letting it go. I’d expected profound fear as my fingertips met the edges, intrigue and understanding as I studied its every intricate feature. All that greeted me was overwhelming disappointment. This is it? Seriously?
‘Adhikari, Did you find anything?’
I folded my hand into a fist and shoved it in my pocket as the supervising officer approached expectantly. He spied the military suitcase by my boots, filled with hundreds of copies, then patted me roughly on the shoulder.
‘Good, let’s go.’
It was my first day on the mission, my first raid. Money. That’s what they’d called it. Before 2050 and the outbreak of World War Three, this was God. It was all powerful and out of control. To have it was a sign of grace. It whispered its way into your dreams and dictated your every breath. It created feasts and famines, songs of joy and lamentations. It had two faces; greed and hunger. It began to eat things with a vigorous appetite. It consumed whole forests, glaciers and deserts. It consumed armies, ships and clawed away at the flesh of all creatures. No soul could cry mercy. Towers of glass and factories of exploitation rose in its name, destroyed and rose again, destroyed and rose again. Battles, plagues, famines and droughts visited at an exponential rate, but there was no day of rest in the industrious creation of concrete jungles; No one could stop the will of God.
No one.
Twenty years ago, only when every last well had been poisoned, every river filled with dirt and disease, Every Ocean dead beyond resurrection had people awoken to the devil’s façade. By then, it was far too late.
***
Eight hours later we were nearing the cool warmth of the Compound. I was a few feet behind the S.O. but well in front of Agent Hudson. Until now, we’d been trudging through the snow together, calling on the makeshift shacks that bordered the towers upon towers of discarded waste. Diggers as massive as the skyscrapers of old caged us in, systematically trampling one heap after the other to make space. ‘Worldwide Initiative to Save Humanity’ was written in big bold letters across every one. Batteries and old phone cases, pieces of metal and electrical components came willingly. But the scavengers in the West were still worshippers.
These people radiated resentment. I’d been sure the man who’d confessed the briefcase on the first raid was mad. He was in hysterics; the heap of paper had been his life savings, enough for a house, a car, and holidays to see the wonders of the world. Wonders that they knew would cease to exist.
They Knew.
They knew it was murder manifested; irrigating icecaps, smelting souls, raping woods – and they let it destroy the world anyway.
I handed him his WISH token and left quietly. Every face that followed was the same, some more aggressive, some less distraught but most simply sad. My stomach was all knots. A flash of the walls upon walls of WISH recruitment posters that bricked every building back home stopped me in my tracks. I did a double take, made sure I was alone and approached it warily.
‘Meet and work with interesting people from all walks of life.’
From a distance, the people here looked like normal, hardworking, productive members of society. But close up I was engulfed in the void of their emptiness, in fear of their forced freedom from God. There was no sharing of stories, no conversation, no acknowledgement of each other’s existence.
‘Immerse yourself in a mesmerising and captivating environment.’
I lost my mind out here, as I would in one of the old-earth deserts, climbing past the mountains of junk and debris trying to make some sense of what my eyes were reflecting, until I felt myself numb, cut off from anything I’ve known somewhere faraway in another existence. When vegetation once rioted this land, and rain wasn’t drops of poison melting away my hair. When a quarter of the population was still alive, and there were Trees.
I’d only ever seen one in my life. It was on the corner of the street, surrounded by a plain of concrete. Oak. Big and powerful with a tyre swing hanging off. I ran to it once, my hand slipping from my mother’s as I grasped onto the rope. But one swing was more than enough. It was dangerous. I’d fall and break my head and die. The TOYSRUS store next door was much safer.
‘Make life-long friends in a career full of possibilities; CALL NOW!’
Apparently it was an unwritten rule that you took these last few steps slowly, alone; We were all clinging childishly to the old world, unwilling to immerse in the supposed safety of the compound. I scrunched the paper in my pocket out of annoyance and let it fall into the sea of white. Earlier, I’d done the same with the poster, ripping it from the wall. It was obvious now; there was nothing for me out here but craze and confusion from the cunning conscription of my naïve optimism.

Jharna Chamlagai
No, Art is not for ‘Everyone’
May 7, 2017 11:54 pm Comments Off on No, Art is not for ‘Everyone’
Judy Kuo is a Chinese-Australian from Melbourne studying Honours in Sociology.
For starters, I know nothing about art, so diving head first into an honours project on the social and political nature of art spaces probably wasn’t the most sensible idea.
Nevertheless, I am interested in ‘the gallery’ as an environment and a space that can give rise to community, and how these art spaces represent and engage with people of colour – especially in Australia. And as a sociology and philosophy wanker, I am extra critical of the way in which artistic discourses and practices around its consumption are shaped by inherently classist, racist and sexist ideas.
Firstly, art in the modern world is all about money, precisely because its denial of money has traditionally defined it. The market value of art is based on the notion that art is only good if it is freed from the shackles of economic need and market forces. The very fact that it is distinguished from the world of necessity and poverty gives the justification for its (sometimes absurd) value. In distinguishing itself from the market, it solidifies its worth within the market. The appreciation and consumption of art also assumes the availability of leisure time among its viewers.
On the flip side, the glorification of the starving artist is just the other side of the transcendental coin, depicting the virtuous and benevolent artist sacrificing their bodily needs for the intellectual pursuit of their artistic genius, only to be tragically consumed by such needs. With its white walls and windowless-ness shielding its treasures from the world of poor people and unskilled labour, the conventional way we contextualise art harbours an underlying repulsion from the noise of the rabble. These are the hallmark indicators of privilege so prevalent in other aspects of life.
So let’s do away with the idea that art (as we know it now) is made for everyone.
Firstly, this is disregarding the financial barriers to accessing galleries (there is absolutely no free parking on King Edward Terrace, by the way). But, the way that rich, old, ‘white’ people go around mm-ing and ah-ing at some ancient Chinese artefact in the ‘Asian Art’ section of the NGA – followed by a stream of vague terminology and historical trivia apparently relevant to the artwork – can be surprisingly uncomfortable even for a Chinese-Australian like myself.
Perhaps I am being cynical now, but the right to understand the art of my own heritage becomes a conquest for the Western intellect that is eventually used to educate me.
With the example of the ‘Versailles: Treasures from the Palace’ exhibition at the NGA, charging $25 entry for students, the gallery becomes the domain of the aristocrat or the tourist, consuming a collection of rare and expensive things just because they were rare and expensive things owned by aristocrats. The appropriate reaction towards such an exhibition is the affirmation of its value and therefore a performance of class. The line between rare and valuable artefacts and important artworks has never been clear, but the perpetuation of intellectual, economic, and social superiority seems to continue to be an inherent project of the art gallery.
And yet, I am guilty of my own type of elitism, as I have just implied that the things in the Versailles exhibition are not ‘real art’ – but what is real art anyway?
‘Real art’ is, I think, an even more dangerous idea, when the ‘realness’ of non-European art is subjected to a Euro-centric logic of justification and value. At what point does non-European art or art made by people of colour become ‘white’ enough to be recognised as art? To what extent are Western art worlds actually capable of valuing what it cannot comprehend? What would this comprehension look like?
On the one hand, we have the tiny Chinese contemporary art exhibition banished to the NGA basement with no signs directing people to it, and on the other hand, we have government initiatives which aim to promote the multiculturalism of a community through community-made art. Community artists are usually not paid and not permanently exhibited, so how can any of us seriously say that they are given the status of ‘real art’? This kind of ‘offer’ for ethnic minorities to be temporarily and marginally part of the arts culture of their community is often at the expense of their own labour, time, and the commodification of their own cultures for consumption.
It seems to me to be merely a gestural and cursory ‘welcome’ of people of colour into the ‘art world’.
How can people of colour be audiences of art without their heritage and background becoming neutralised by the ‘whiteness’ of the discourses that define art and our experience of art? Even when it comes to the art by people of colour, how can its perceived authenticity be severed from the colonial notions of the noble savage?
Look, I don’t know. I love art as much as I hate the unequal social contexts in which ‘art’ as we know it is made possible. I suppose that is why I bothered to dedicate a whole year to studying it. Here, I think I’ve reached a bit of a dead-end in my thesis – I don’t know how we can imagine art in a new way so that art in our context doesn’t carry its imperialistic baggage. So that art is open to new subjects and new audiences, so that art is open to a new kind of ‘public’ and so that art institutions affirm a genuine respect for things that operate under an unfamiliar mode of meaning.

Judy Kuo
Tim Tams, a Dancing Calf, and the Djembe
11:51 pm Comments Off on Tim Tams, a Dancing Calf, and the Djembe
‘Rwanda? That’s the country that had the genocide, wasn’t it? I’m so sorry!’
‘Oh, isn’t Al-Qaeda in Mali?’
Time and time again, my cultural experiences are reduced to these two sentences by those who profess to ‘know’ Africa. The land of prancing antelopes and majestic hyenas, with ebony-coloured bared breasted women, brightly smiling children who don’t seem to ‘understand the poverty they’re living in’ and of course, uncivilised barbarians who are ever-ready to perform beheadings. To cut straight to the point, there is no general appreciation and understanding of Africa being a culmination of thousands of different cultural practices and attitudes, because we’re all bunched up together.
I am of Rwandan descent but was born and raised in Canberra. I moved to Mali, West Africa when I was seven, and underwent a fantastic culture shock. At the airport, I was apparently counting the number of Africans I saw because I had never seen such a multitude of people who resembled me. I was not only around people who physically looked like me, but I learned to love, respect, and adopt two intricately beautiful cultures.
I have grown up experiencing three cultures. In Mali, there was a large Rwandan community, so I was lucky to get a glimpse into that culture. I would visit Canberra once a year, still holding onto my Australian culture and world, as I lived in Mali. Trying to grapple three completely different worldviews throughout my childhood and adolescence was and still is tough and conflicting at times.
I am a lover of stories and music, and it is through these mediums that I best identify with my three cultures. In Mali, I was completely enthralled by the unique local take on music, rhythm and dance – I was obsessed with the djembe and balafon. I learnt about their interpretation of Islam and would hear the best jokes and random stories told by strangers or friends.
In Rwanda, I identified with the folklore. I can only speak basic Ikinarwanda, but the playfulness and creativity of their fairytales captured my imagination. The ‘land of a thousand hills’ has plenty of tales to offer; my favourite is that if you see a white, dancing calf during a full moon, you’ll live for longer. There’s a reason why my grandfather lived to be quite old.
I always felt a sense of home whenever I opened the pantry and saw a jar of Vegemite, or I snuck on Tim Tams on the plane. Yearly, I would buy a Canberran calendar, and I felt a warm sense of home – memories of cycling to the shops, going to the park with Dad, or catching a movie flooded back to me whenever I looked at it.
When I returned to Australia five years ago, not only was I exposed to the full extent of the discrimination and racism that pervades Australian society, but also the disregard and naivety that is generally displayed toward different cultural practices. I seem to be living in a Western-dominated world of thinking that doesn’t show any regard or respect for my personal ways of thinking and living, which have been shaped by my experiences with the Rwandan and Malian cultures.
Culture forms us from birth, acting like a parent and developing with us throughout our lives – instilling a unique set of values, behaviours and expectations in us. There needs to be an acknowledgement of different cultures, particularly within Western society, because ultimately, we can’t all conform to the same way of thinking. That being said, there is a determination in every culture to seek out knowledge and wholesome experiences, and that is something I’d encourage everyone to pursue.
So, before you commence a spiel on a country’s crisis or the poverty-stricken areas that you’ve seen on the news, imagine not only how you’d feel, but what your reaction would be if you were at the receiving end of the lecture. It’s only human to burst out in anger at someone else’s set-in-stone perspective. Instead, aim to start a discussion with someone – engage with their point-of-view and acknowledge their perspective. It helps in the long run.

Annabelle Nshuti