Unless all of us are free, none of us are free
As women all over Australia took to the streets to march for justice and an end to discrimination and sexual harassment, the asks of ‘all’ women were confidently plastered all over the news. But as I listen to the issues being discussed, I am quickly reminded that feminism often looks a certain way in Australia – white, cisgender, hetero, able-bodied and middle class.
Meeting at the intersections
I’m sick of imploring white women to be intersectional. I mean it, I’m done with it. I won’t beg for my humanity to be realised. I won’t plead for my life or the lives of my people to matter. I won’t because my liberation has never been, and will never be, found in white hands.
The importance of representation
If you asked me what I wanted to be when I was younger, I would point to the ultra-feminine girly tropes in film/tv. No matter how they were portrayed, I was drawn to their style, movements and catchphrases. As I grew older, I realised that the world within film is much different from how our world operates.
My place in this country is conditional
As I leave the comfort of my home and enter spaces I know were never intended for me, I am aware that my existence is treated as threatening to many, and my experiences, when shared, will never be validated, appreciated or valued as my white female counterpart in this country.
This is my Australia.
On intersectionality and inclusion
I remember being so proud following family tradition into military service in 1988. Watching the Minister for Defence now, I hold old PTSD at bay, revisiting constant discrimination, sexual assault, and harassment.
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