Children Suffering in Manditory Detention

The other week I was challenged on my belief that mandatory detention is wrong because it leads to mental illness.  It was expressed that there is very a good chance that many of these people arrive to these detention centres with mental illnesses because of the trauma they have experienced and that it is highly likely these people would be suffering from mental illness whether or not they were detained in the detention centres.

At the time I had no response, that was a perfectly reasonable statement and I had no proof to the contrary. However yesterday while stuck in bed feeling sick I decided I wanted to read further into the topic and discover whether the mental illness was a result of detention or rather of past trauma. I decided to concentrate my research on children because I have a vested interest in the protection of children and I have worked with children who have been through these processes and have come out with mental illnesses.

I read a range of articles that all confirmed there was a high level of mental illness in detention centres and some that seemed to suggest that detention it’s self was a contributing cause but it wasn’t until I read the 2004 National Inquiry into Children in Immigration Detention that I found an article that really explored my question. (I admit that this is not the most up to date inquiry however the 2014 National Enquiry into Children in Immigration will be published later this year so it will be interesting to discover how things have changed in the last 10 years). What the inquiry seemed to suggest was that although past trauma was a contributing factor, there is much to suggest that detention it’s self has a major impact on the mental health of children

According to the enquiry there were 7 main issues that impacted the mental health of children in Detention, these include:

• torture and trauma prior to arrival in Australia
• the length of detention
• uncertainty as to the visa process and negative visa decisions
• the breakdown of many families within detention
• living in a closed environment
• children’s perception that they are not safe within detention
• treatment of children by detention staff

What I found most interesting were the findings relating to past trauma. The inquiry found that although many of the children in detention had experienced past trauma it was not the sole source of their mental illness. One study found that in fact a low number of children arrived in detention with recognisable mental illnesses, while all children demonstrate at least one mental illness after being in detention for an excess of two years. Other studies found that detention lead to an aggravation and maintenance of past disorders. Another made the bold statement that detention was the “worst thing that has ever happened to these children.”

I’d like to do further reading to come to a concrete conclusion, including reading the sources quoted in the inquiry myself. However there certainly seems to be an indication that detention in its self does have a negative  effect on the mental health of children. I’m not about to say that detention should be abolished but I am going to say that it appears to have terrible consequences and that amendments or other processes should perhaps be considered. What do you think?

-TheCompassionateGirl

To read the source I have been referencing for yourself click on the link below:

https://www.humanrights.gov.au/publications/last-resort-national-inquiry-children-immigration-detention/9-mental-health-children

s9.3 covers the factors contributing to the mental health of children in detention

Unobservant = Uncompassionate

Recently this fear that I am not the person I believe myself to be or aspire to be has been going around and around in my head. I have said before that I define myself by the fact that I am a compassionate person, but recent events, both those expressed in other posts and others, have called that into question. I fear that if you take that away from me, I have nothing left. Without my compassion I don’t really know who I would be.

Something that has been particularly eating away at my recently is a realisation of just how unobservant I am. It’s incredible just how blind I can be to what is happening around me. The other week, I was playing a card game with some friends and it was almost impressive how badly I lost. One of the major reasons for my loss was that I was completely oblivious to what was happening with the other players. After playing, I felt rather anxious and concerned and I couldn’t work out why, I wasn’t THAT upset about loosing a card game to my friends. I realised that it was confirmation of this concern that had been niggling away in the back of my mind. That i am incredibly unobservant, that the obliviousness I had demonstrated in this game was the kind of obliviousness I often demonstrate in life.

It was then that my fear and dread crashed down on me. If I am this unobservant and oblivious, how often do I treat people with less than they deserve without knowing it? How often am I unkind, uncaring or dismissive  towards people because I haven’t observed how they’re feeling or what I’m doing to them?  It may not be a moral wrong or necessarily mean I’m lacking in compassion but it goes against the kind of person I want to be. That scares me, because I don’t know how to learn to be more observant. I can make a pledge to keep in mind that I’m prone to obliviousness and make a conscious effort to be more aware but is that enough? Is being observant and aware something you can learn?

To be honest I don’t have the answers. I guess all I can do for now is to strive to be more observant and not be too harsh on myself when I fail.

-TheCompassionateGirl

 

Extra Lessons from Teachers

“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” – Nelson Mandela

Perhaps this is not quite what he was talking about, but today I want to discuss the educators who helped me become a person who wants to change the world. I just watched this video:

 

And it made me think about the teachers who have had an influence in my life. Two names instantly popped into my head, Ms Kalajzich and Mr Farley. In my last years of school, these two incredible people taught me, not just the content I needed to get through WACE, but a number of lessons that get me through life.

Students can tell a teacher who loves teaching and a teacher who doesn’t, and often the attitude of the teacher rubs off on the students. These two, clearly loved their jobs as well as the content they were teaching, and this made it so much easier to engage with whatever we were learning. Lets face it, learning about Australia’s Constitution or going through Macbeth for the second year in a row is not always going to be the most exciting, but with Mr Farley and Ms Kalajzich, I can look back on these as enjoyable experiences.

Ms Kalajzich taught me to embrace life. To always be yourself and to be proud of the person you are. That it’s okay to be different and silly and make mistakes. And that you should be ready to laugh at yourself when it’s appropriate. (As I’m the type of person who gets into the back seat of her car and then tries to drive it, this was a very important lesson to learn!!) She also showed me support through a hard time, which I am very thankful for. I grew up a lot in those few months while reading that book. It was hard and at times I was angry that I had to do it, but it was also incredibly good for me. After that time I progressed a lot in my transition from the little girl who defined herself by the loss she’d suffered into the young woman who defines herself by her fight against the suffering of others.

Mr Farley, without knowing it, helped me find my passion. I chose Politics and Law on a whim, needing an extra subject and being limited in my choices. Yet this lead to me finding what I currently believe to be my calling in life. Mr Farley managed to make Australian politics as close to exciting, interesting and fun as Australian politics can get. A couple of years on and what exactly we did in classes is a blur but I know that I appreciated his teaching style and his lessons suited my learning. His passion for his job inspired me to engage with the content and through that, I found something I was interested in and could excel at. I have always accounted my career choice to his teaching. I genuinely believe that I wouldn’t be sitting in Torts and Contract lectures or examining the Australian Government’s legal obligations to Asylum Seekers (which i should be doing rather than writing this blog post) if it were not for Mr Farley.

If either of you ever read this, I just want to say thank you. There are times when high school seems a million years ago and others when it seems like just yesterday, but no matter the time that has passed, I still carry around what I learnt in your classes. The greatest lesson the two of you taught me was to find something I am passionate about and enjoy, and spend my life doing it. I hope that I can approach my work in the future, wherever I end up, with the kind of drive that you both demonstrated for teaching. Never forget the influence you have as teachers and the incredible impact a great teacher has on a student. I know I’m not the only one who appreciated your teaching in this way, so thank you.

-TheCompassionateGirl

From Overwhelmed to Hopeful

Today I’m sitting in a Genocide class, feeling completely overwhelmed by my sense of helplessness. There is so much suffering in the world and I feel this urge to help everyone who is suffering. I feel sad, and helpless and pained and want the pain to go away. I am lost.

I wrote the above this morning while sitting in my genocide unit, however this afternoon I managed to move from the overwhelmed and lost to the hopeful. I opened YouTube and at the top of my Sub page was this video by John Green of the VlogBrothers

It filled me with hope. I realised that I can’t help everyone but that, given small opportunities, often people can help themselves. With a small amount of resources and some basic training these women have managed to improve child mortality for their own community. It’s a beautiful thing and something that fills me with joy, to see the incredible capacity of the human spirit to fight the horrors of our world and to make it a better place.

Through my compassion it is important to me that I feel others’ pain, but I also have to remember to feel the joy and the hope as well. For as long as there is pain in the world, there will be hope for a better time in the future. I encourage whoever is reading this to look for something positive that is happening in the world and let it remind you not to give up or let the pain overwhelm you.

-TheCompassonateGirl

Really Compassionate?

I’m not sure whether I will post this but it is something that I feel I need to write. In the last few days, something happened that caused me to doubt whether I truly am a compassionate person.

I have spent a long time defining myself by the fact that I am compassionate, empathetic and always consider other people’s feelings. Although I have recognised that this does not always bring out the best of me, that I occasionally prioritise temporary happiness over long-term happiness, I have always believed that this was a major consideration in all my decisions and that I am a good person for it. However last week I proved myself wrong. I did something that negated this entirely. I did something that was selfish and self-serving, without considering the feelings of my friends who were greatly impacted by my actions.

When I realised what I had done and it’s full impact, I was crushed. Never in my life have I been so crippled by anxiety. I couldn’t sleep but also couldn’t leave my bed, after hours of over thinking every detail of my actions and their potential impacts, I began to drift in and out of sleep, always waking in a panic. The next day I felt so crippled by my anxiety that I couldn’t get out of bed, after trying in the late morning I ran back to my bed unable to bear being around people and pretend I was okay. When I tried to shower, I ended up curled up on the shower floor. Later I began to feel capable of being around people and appearing normal but the crushing anxiety stayed with me.

I began writing this post a few days ago believing in the possibility that I am not a truly compassionate person, and that I should stop considering it to be my defining quality. But over the last 12 hours, as I thought through my actions and reread that last paragraph, I have come to realise that I am. I wouldn’t have had such a violent reaction if I were not a compassionate person. The idea that my friends could be hurting crippled me.

That doesn’t mean that I am proud of my actions or that I necessarily deserve instant forgiveness from my friends or myself. I still acted selfishly, without complete consideration for my friend’s feelings. But one mistake can’t cause me to doubt who I am and how I define myself. One mistake doesn’t make me a bad person. It makes me human. I will pay for my mistakes and I hope learn from them but they don’t change who I am.

So I want others to also get something out of my mistake. Remember my lesson. One mistake doesn’t define you. It might help you identify what you want to change about yourself, but it shouldn’t cause you to question the type of person you are. Learn from it but don’t define yourself by it. Acting in a way that lacks compassion doesn’t mean I lack compassion, it has simply taught me how to be more compassionate in the future.

-TheCompassionateGirl (STILL!!)

Friendly Communication

This isn’t necessarily about social justice but it is about living your life harmoniously with the people around you, which I certainly think is important and has some connection to social justice. Today I want to talk about the importance of communication.

Recently I lost the friendship of a couple of people I cared deeply about. The breakdowns in friendship were for very different reasons, but I often think that if anything could have prevented either one, it’s proper communication.

There seems to be this trend of feeling hurt or angry with someone and simply abandoning them. This idea that you’ll get over it with space and in time everything will be okay. I certainly agree there are great benefits to space and time in challenging times within a relationship of any form, however they should be limited and not be long enough to allow anger and hurt to fester.

It’s certainly my experience that if I let these times go on for too long, I start to over think things and think the worst of these people, I used to care so much about. I begin to feel even angrier because I haven’t been able to voice to this person what I’m feeling.It’s so much healthier to express these things, to tell the person and have them explain their actions. In my experience the imagined wrongs and hurts are usually so much more than the actual ones, once everything has been explained and discussed.

In one of my recent experiences it was as if we both simply gave up. We have been so close but without realising it our friendship had suffered from some separation and lack of communication. When a big issue arose, neither of us had the energy to try and fight for it. We were both too angry and hurt to do anything about proper communication and reaching a resolution. By the time I realised my regrets and wanted to sit down and discuss what had happened and why we were so lost, it was too late. We were so far gone that she wasn’t interested and I didn’t really know where to start. Can you really contact a person after months and months of no contact, when you told them to leave you alone, and say I want to talk to you again? Does that work? I’m sad to say I didn’t have to guts to try.

I wish we had talked everything through and avoided attempts through social media. That we had gotten together in a neutral location and just talked about why we were feeling the way we were and what could be done to fix things. That we had cried together and laughed together and rationally discussed our issues. That we hadn’t impulsively sent Facebook messages we didn’t mean or that could be misinterpreted. That we hadn’t just hinted at the reasons we were angry. That we hadn’t relied on second hand accounts from mutual friends. And that we hadn’t taken tiny slights on social media to represent huge ones.

I really want to live my life making mistakes, I can live with regretting things I did do, but I don’t want to regret the things I didn’t. This is one of my big “didn’t do” regrets. If I had attempted this and I still lost these friendships then at least I tried. But I didn’t try and for that I’m incredibly disappointed in myself.

So my challenge to you is to make sure that you communicate with your friends and family. That they know you still care about them and love them and that if you have any issues or arguments you talk them through rather than running away like I did.

-The Compassionate Girl

Small Kindnesses From a Peruvian Man

My trip to South America was such an amazing experience for me, and I wanted to share with you one of my favourite memories from the trip.

Part of our trip was spent helping a Peruvian community build a cement staircase up the mountain upon which they lived. The mountain was covered in loose rocks which made it difficult to climb, so the staircase was important for making the trip up the mountain safe.

The Finished product

 

Our job was predominantly to carry buckets of cement from the bottom of the mountain, where the cement was being mixed, up to the top of the stairs. At the beginning this was reasonably easy, but as the stairs continued to grow, so did our climb. In the end we created a human chain, passing the buckets up to the top. It was tough work as some of the buckets were very big but a lot easier than running up and down the rocks.

 

The Peruvian Community Continued the Chain as we broke for lunch

For one of the afternoon sessions I found myself in the line, away from my friends and fellow travellers, and surrounded by a group of Peruvian men. A little while in, I noticed that the man bellow me in the chain would occasionally skip me and carry the bucket in his hand around me to the man above. My first reaction was to be offended, his assumption that as a women I would be incapable of lifting some of the buckets was a little sexist. However as I continued to work I realised that my reaction was unfair. This man was from the other side of world, we had never met and we were incapable of much communication, however he was choosing to do me a kindness. He was working harder than he needed to, in order to save me from hurting myself. And in all honesty, he was probably right. I’m sure I would have struggled to carry many of the buckets that he walked around me with.

 

Sometimes I think we have a choice in life, we can be offended by what someone else’s actions appear to insinuate or suggest, or we can simply accept them on face value for the kindnesses that they are. I choose to believe that he was not making a sexist or unfair assumption about me and instead he was doing the over privileged Australian girl standing above him a kindness simply because he could, and it was the right thing to do.

 

When I think about that day, it strikes me how easy it seems for underprivileged people to show kindnesses every day and yet in the privileged 1^st world we so often forget to do so. Small kindnesses that would take as much or less effort could make huge differences yet so often seem too hard. Things like making a small donation, signing a petition and educating ourselves about issues are so often too difficult. Yet this man was so easily willing to frequently run a few metres up a hill, carrying a large bucket of cement for me. I think in fact he saved my from tumbling down the mountain more than once. I certainly know the type of person I would rather be, and I hope I can continue to live my life in such a way from now on.

Celebrating the Finished Product

 

-The Compassionate Girl

A Beautiful Classrom

You know when you have one of those amazing days where you end the day simply feeling inspired and uplifted? I had one of those days today. I spent the last two weeks in an Intensive English class in a high school surrounded by some of the most amazing teenagers I have ever met.

These children had gone through unimaginable hardships, many of them travelling to Australia on leaky boats by themselves as 13/14 yr. olds. Many of them had severe mental health issues and were very traumatised by their experiences both travelling to Australia and the time they spent in detention centres. However when they were in the classroom with me, none of that mattered. They were so full of life, and eager to learn. They asked questions, worked hard and participated in every task. Of course they were teenagers and ever teenager gets bored at some point in class and doesn’t want to work, but as a whole the atmosphere in the classroom was so much more positive than your normal every day high school classroom.

As my time progressed the children began to trust me more and more, which was  a privileged to experience. When they started feeling confident enough to ask me questions and tell me things about themselves it was a beautiful thing. There was one boy who I hadn’t heard say a word for the first five days I was the in the classroom, one afternoon he turned to me and asked me to help him with his worksheet. He went and got me a chair and I sat next to him and we worked through the worksheet together. From that moment on he was confident to ask for help whenever he needed it.

I feel so privileged to have spent time with these children. I learnt so much not only about life as a refugee and the struggles they go though. But also about myself, what I want from life and what I’m passionate about. I am so grateful for this opportunity and to the people who provided me with it. My time in the school has ended but I fully intent to return as frequently as I can

– The Compassionate Girl

 

Giving to the Homeless

Studying for a Social Justice Major means that you are frequently mixed up in large debates about social justice issues. One such issue that has frequently come up in my various units over the past few years has been, giving to the homeless.

In my first blog post I talked about giving the homeless a sense of humanity, in this post I’m going to talk about giving the homeless money, the concerns people have in regards to this and the potential solutions.

First I must admit one thing. As The Compassionate Girl, I have maintained something that few people my age still have. Some people would think this a weakness, others think it’s a gift. I’m yet to decide. It’s called faith in humanity, faith that most human beings are good people who are trying to make the best of their lives. I know this sounds naive but  i still want to believe that the people i see in the street are trying to make the most with their lives. For this reason I have no problem with giving the homeless people i see on the street, the few coins in my wallet and simply hope that they do the right thing with that money.

Some would argue that what I’m doing is wrong, that I’m blindly giving people money that may ultimately cause them much more damage than it does good. That I may be blindly fuelling a drinking, gambling or drug addiction. To these people I say you might be right, but I’d rather have faith in these people than assume that everyone around me has poor intentions, as i see so many of my peers believing.  I am  however willing to be proven wrong and for this reason I’m going to explore other avenues of assistance.

In one of may classes it was suggested that perhaps the best way to help the homeless is to give to shelters, soup kitchens and other more official methods of assistance. I certainly agree, these a great ways of providing help to the homeless, however it does not necessarily quash my need to help the individuals who I see day after day on the street as I walk by. For this it was suggested that rather than blindly giving money to these people, you strike up a conversation with them. Ask them what specifically they need your money for and whether they know how to get assistance from more official places. Ask them if they are hungry at that moment and buy them some food. This method I think has a lot of power. I’m challenged by the basis of distrust but I accept that a certain level of distrust is needed in our society. I’m also terrified of the actual action of doing such a thing. I get very nervous and tongue tied in social situations, particularly concerning strangers (good thing I’m becoming a lawyer…) so the idea of going up to a complete stranger and asking the above questions scares me a lot. Perhaps this is something I need to work towards…

What do you guys think?

-The Compassionate Girl

Charity Promo: Love 146

A charity that I’m incredibly passionate about is Love 146.
Weirdly I came upon them by accident when I was looking for T-shirts on a website. I kept finding tops that said “Love146,” I was curious, so I googled it and found this website: http://love146.org/love-story/

The story of this charity affected me greatly:

“We found ourselves standing shoulder to shoulder with predators in a small room, looking at little girls through a pane of glass. All of the girls wore red dresses with a number pinned to their dress for identification. They sat, blankly watching cartoons on TV. They were vacant, shells of what a child should be. There was no light in their eyes, no life left. Their light had been taken from them. These children…raped each night… seven, ten, fifteen times every night. They were so young. Thirteen, eleven… it was hard to tell. Sorrow covered their faces with nothingness. Except one girl. One girl who wouldn’t watch the cartoons. Her number was 146. She was looking beyond the glass. She was staring out at us with a piercing gaze. There was still fight left in her eyes. There was still life left in this girl… …All of these emotions begin to wreck you. Break you. It is agony. It is aching. It is grief. It is sorrow. The reaction is intuitive, instinctive. It is visceral. It releases a wailing cry inside of you. It elicits gut-level indignation. It is unbearable. I remember wanting to break through the glass. To take her away from that place. To scoop up as many of them as I could into my arms. To take all of them away. I wanted to break through the glass to tell her to keep fighting. To not give up. To tell her that we were coming for her…”
– Rob Morris, Co-Founder of Love146

When the brothel was raided and the children were rescued but #146 was gone. No one will ever know what happened to this girl who still had a fight in her eyes but her strength inspired the Founders of Love146 to begin their mission.
Today Love 146 works in the areas of Prevention, research and aftercare in slave trade and in particular the child sex slave trade. As soon as I read about this organisation I designed a shirt with the words “Her number was 146… she had a name” on it and attempted to spread the word of this touching story and this charity that it was built upon.

It’s easy to ignore issues when you don’t think about the individuals involved, which I think is the power of Love 146. It aims to help as many people as it can, but it’s also about individuals, about individual experiences, and the knowledge that Girl 146 could be anyone. She could be me, or you, or our sisters, our nieces or our daughters. For now she has the potential to be anyone and the only way she’ll be no-one is if child human trafficking is eradicated.

Girl 146 taught me that if she can fight so can I. She inspired me. I encourage you to go onto the website and read more, as she may do the same for you.

-The Compassionate Girl

Note: This is a Predominantly an American Charity, so far I have struggled to find an Australian equivalent. Particularly one with such an inspiring story.