I was having drinks with two friends last night. These people are amazing and fun, and they were regaling me with stories of their extensive world travels. They both have an incredible sense of lightness about them. Then, as the conversation turned towards things more serious, one said to me that he needed to focus on his own happiness, and that meant he couldn’t think about politics. I thought to myself that it would be nice to be able to absolve myself of worrying of things beyond myself, but realistically, if we are not willing to take an active part in our society, and government is a part of society, then who will?

For as long as I can remember, I have been politically aware. By that, I suppose I mean that I’ve been aware of the effects that political decisions have on the grass root level. I don’t have a degree, I don’t come from an affluent family, I don’t own property and I don’t have a husband and children to validate me. I do, however, have a strong sense of what I believe society should be.

There were several key people and key events in my life that affected my social sensibilities deeply. The first was my mother. She was, and is, an incredibly strong woman who embraced feminism in its fledgling years. She brought up her daughters with the belief, and the expectation, to be the most they could be. That sense of expectation perhaps backfired a little, but regardless, my sister and I are both women with a strong sense of self who have never accepted any limitations in our lives due to gender.

The second key person in my life was a high school teacher, Mr Johnson. Keith. (Or Keef, due to a speech impediment. Or Mono Johnno, due to an unfortunate accident during a practice sesson with the Girl’s Cricket team that he coached, which required surgery to a delicate and somewhat personal part of his anatomy). Mr Johnson was our Social Science and Economics teacher throughout high school. He didn’t work from a set text, but collected together news clippings, news stories, and up-to-date statistics to form his own source material. I still have my copy. It is the only thing from highschool I have kept. He was also a Communist, and introduced us to alternative political leaders and views, such as Mao Tse Tung and the PLO. He encouraged us to question everything, including him. He provoked us. He taunted us. He was passionate and cynical and most of all he was honest and treated us like adults. For a feminist non-conformist girl in a school with a strong ‘born-again christian’ presence, he was a life-buoy. We fought often. But in his class, participation was key. He was far more upset when I slumped in the back row and fell asleep, than when I was yelling and arguing with him. He was undoubtedly the most important, and most constant, male role-model during those important teen years.

The key event that strongly influenced my sense of social justice happened not long before I started high school. My father left our family (again and finally). My mother didn’t have a job. She didn’t have a driver’s licence, let alone a car. She didn’t even have a bank account. She just had the responsibility of her two daughters and a variety of pets. I watched her have to go to welfare offices to get a pension to tide us over until she managed to get a full-time job. That experience put a very human face on ‘single mothers’ and ‘welfare mothers’ and ‘dole bludgers’ and the fact that there, but for the grace of God, could go any one of us. I recall sharing my bedroom during the day with the child that she cared for to help bring in a little more money. She scrimped and saved, and worked and worked so she would never again have to ask for a hand-out and be made to feel the way she did that first day she had asked for financial aid.

Yesterday I felt sad about the society I live in. I had been reading about the lies, deceit and corruption that are part of the day-to-day workings of our government. Today, I am inspired that there are people writing books such as the one I’m reading, who are questioning, who are caring, who are capable of overcoming differences in party politics to work towards a common aim to strengthen the democracy within Australia. It is our country. It is our society. It is our government. We can’t just wash our hands of it. We can’t just take the ‘it’s too hard’ line. It isn’t a case of us against them. We are all one. We all play our roles. And if we don’t like where things in our society are heading, then isn’t it our responsibility to gain some knowledge and participate??!!

An American friend once described voting in America as a right. In Australia, it is a responsibility. I take my responsibility very seriously.

I will never be non-political. My soul will never be light. But would I really want it to be?