Moderating myself

Sometimes I will write a post, and then sit on it. The previous post was apparently written in January, I only just got around to posting it.

My other blog has two posts written that I haven't posted yet. I'm not sure what I want to review for my first post and the ones I've written are a wee bit snarky, so I worry that someone who decides to read my blog will be rude about it.

I've been seeing a lot of posts About the treatment of women in politics, and also The way that Muslims are treated in the media, especially Muslim Women. I would recommend to not read the comments in the second unless you want to be either angry, or to count how many people did not actually read the article before starting to respond. It is a great illustration of the author's point.

So as a result I censor myself. I try and think objectively how my words can be read. I realise that through my own doing, I have a very small irregular reader base, but it's been illustrated quite well by others that it only takes a moment to go from that to many many people suddenly seeing your work. I'd rather not have anything overly inflammatory if I can help it on my blog.

Still, where can I draw the line? After a while, you stop saying what you're intending to say, if you're too afraid of the theoretical consequences to say it.

Themes of West Side Story

On Thursday night, I left work to go and see West Side Story with my parents and number of their friends.

West Side Story is an excellent musical, the songs were familiar, everyone sang very well, and overall it was enjoyable (although there was a very weird dream sequence with everyone dancing around in white after the intermission which confused a lot of people, myself included.)

But although it was very good (the actors were superb), I still found it a bit problematic and confronting. It's a love story, Romeo and Juliet (if you like) with the background of open racism, killing, police corruption, and (one case of) rape.

I know it is supposed to reflect the time, rampant racism and chauvinism (which of course meant that women of colour got the double whammy) but frankly, if that is what it was like (and I know it wasn't much different here in Australia), I can only be glad I wasn't alive yet. Growing up in the Eighties, in the lingering shadow of the remnants of the White Australia Policy* was uncomfortable. Being called names by the parents of my fellow students, and having said students repeat them is still rather disturbing to me, and so this play was, well quite provocative.

I did enjoy it though, I was surprised by how many of the songs I had heard before. I could almost sing along to most of them.










*Although the policy was fully disbanded in the early 70's, it took a lot longer for the people to follow suit. My Mother, arriving in the country later that decade and being one of two Chinese women in the town she was living in, made her an unusual sight. The other woman was the Doctors wife, and older matronly type that people didn't want to annoy as she ran the reception at his office. People used to come and stare at my mum. People don't like to talk of it, or think of it, but some people do still treat you differently when they talk to you on the phone, and then see you in person and realise you're Chinese (or black, or something other than the fully white person they were expecting after you spoke so beautifully to them on the phone). I've had people recoil when I introduce myself. Not much, because for the most part they can tell I'm Eurasian, but that's it. My Mum still gets it quite regularly. Because obviously a Chinese person must have a Chinese accent. But she doesn't.

never darken my doorstep

I had my name blackened and dragged through the mud by one of those customers today. The kind of person with such an immense sense of entitlement that when other people in Customer Service describe them to you, you honestly think they're joking. She was abusive, she was demanding, she called me names and was so agressive, that I actually refused to talk to her today. My manager said she would talk to her, so I took B at her word; She talked to the customer. I was being "She"'d, I was being "that girl"'d, and I, in the back with my other co-worker K, was really about to go tell the customer off if she used my name like an invective one more time. I have never wanted to smack anyone before. But I honestly did with this woman. Unpleasant is one word.

I suppose the positive of the entire unpleasant experience was, after shouting at my boss after he told her we needed to be paid, she declared that she would never set foot in our shop again. (Also, she did pay. After it was pointed to her that she would not receive her machine back until she paid, and my Boss offered to take her to court over the money.)

I don't think she appreciates how small the Apple repair community in the metro area is. I can think of no more than maybe eight, five of those are warranty centres. So, when she gets herself removed from the other 7... Well. I suppose at that point you have to send your machine away to get repaired. And pay a premium for it.

Normally I would be upset by this kind of thing, as it was uncalled for and rude and really offensive, but to be honest, this woman (and her husband!) is her own worst enemy, and I wish her upon herself.

And may I never set eyes upon her again.

The results of Bullying.

Earlier this month a boy took a loaded gun to school (in Esperence) in response to being bullied. He was suspended, arrested, and police initially refused to release him on bail. He's being prosecuted, it's possible that he won't be allowed to return to school (which he might not want to do either), and it also will probably make it harder for him to change schools.

He was wrong, violence is never the answer, and this shouldn't have happened, but;

Here's a question; Why aren't we hearing about what is happening to the kids who bullied him so badly that he felt the need to bring a weapon to school to defend himself?

A lot of children are bullied, some quite severely. And speaking from experience, often the response of authority figures (including teachers) is quite often very lacking. Personally, after three years of being bullied by a boy from my Primary School, when he tried it in High School, he got whacked with Here Be Dragons (roughly a thousand pages). It was a paperback though. I'm not cruel, I didn't use the hardcover. When I took my issues (in Primary School) to my teacher, I got no help. When I went to his teacher, I was told she would turn a blind eye if I chose to retaliate.

The really annoying thing is, had I gone to our Principal, when it first started in year 5, it would have been sorted. Or if I'd told my Mum (my Mum is very awesome), I know she would have done everything to help me. But for reasons unknown, I didn't, and just took it until explosion point (I'm a bottler, I know I'm a bottler. But as I've got older, I know it's important to say what I really mean. I've learned how to say this in a tactful way, for work, but still, you need to stand up for yourself in a positive way.)

I suppose my point is; to kids who are bullied: Go talk to an authority figure you trust, who can stand up for you and be your advocate. Kids are incredibly cruel; whether because you have red hair, you happen to be a minority in your school (like I was), or just because. And to adults: It is not cool to turn a blind eye to a child who is being bullied. Kids who are bullied can turn into bullies themselves, can do things like the above story, or they could you know get help from you and sort their problems out.

Bullying is wrong.