George Floyd.

This is the name of the man whose death will be known throughout history as being the catalyst for the biggest black rights movement the world has ever seen.

On May 25th this year, he was murdered. As I was scrolling through Instagram, a video came up on my feed. I couldn’t watch. The caption warned me of disturbing content and went on to explain what had happened. I muted the video and scrolled down, continuing to read. A man was held down by police; gasping for air, gasping for his mum, gasping for them to let him breathe. 8 minutes later, the man had died. This man was black. His skin colour determined the way the police handled this situation and the way the police treated him. This sort of violence towards BIPOC (black, indigenous and people of colour) has been happening for years. Because at some point, sometime, somewhere in history, society decided that white skin had more value than any other colour. And despite all our advances in society, technology and medicine, we are still so backwards when it comes to race, skin colour and racism.

You see, this crime against George, this injustice, this murder, would have never happened to a Caucasian man.
Riots were started; statues of men who murdered, killed and enslaved black lives were pulled down. Soon, #blacklivesmatter was trending. This movement could be seen everywhere – the news, the radio, Facebook, Instagram, snapchat filters. In sports games, the players would drop to one knee in honour of black lives, showing their support. People marched, people rioted, and people came together in peaceful protests and vigils to celebrate, stand with, honour, and mourn. #blackouttuesday was observed on social media. And then, as trends do, the support for #blacklivesmatter faded and society started to focus on the next trend.

The video impacted society. It impacted me, even without watching it. However, it took another black life dying and a video on social media for the world to finally respond to an issue which needed to be addressed long before now.
Alexis, black lives matter; is not just a trend or a hashtag. Supporting humans is not ‘trendy’. These are real humans with families, friends, hobbies, hopes and fears. It is sickening that someone is treated with less value because of their skin pigmentation. Society has taken too long to wake up to the fact that skin colour is not a determination of character. Black lives and their experiences deserve to be more than just a trend and a news report. But their voices haven’t been heard, society hasn’t accepted and embraced their culture and their history. BIPOC haven’t been offered the grace of living in peace within society and the systems it has in place. Our systems, schools, communities, politics, and businesses undervalue, underrepresent and underappreciate BIPOC.

So, let’s start with the facts –

Our country’s history includes the murder, rape and kidnapping of Indigenous people at the hands of men who have been since turned into colonial heroes. Aboriginal & TSI people continue to suffer because our society has refused to take the time to understand their culture. BIPOC are blamed for not thriving within the constructs of a society white man has built to further himself and those of the same colour. However, white men will never accept this or take responsibility for it.

The land on which we walk, stolen from Aboriginal and TSI, hasn’t been returned to them. They have been alienated on their own country.
You sit in school and everything you learn about Aboriginal and TSI history is linked to the European settlement, as though they didn’t walk on this land for thousands of years before the invasion. As though they didn’t thrive on this land, and make this land thrive.

And then, European settlers choose to celebrate the day in which they stole the land. We say black lives matter, but still refuse to change the date. If black lives really mattered like we say they do, this wouldn’t even be a conversation.

If black lives matter like society says they do, there wouldn’t be a conversation around whether the name of Coon Cheese should be changed, it just would be changed. Or would have never been given that name.

Do you see how society is contradicting itself? They say black lives matter, but only if it doesn’t come at a personal cost and inconvenience to themselves and the wider society.

BIPOC, Aboriginals & TSI are highly underrepresented in parliament, in sport, in businesses, on our TVs, on stages, in stories, on games and in our media. When they do take part, they are always the token character, the sidekick, the thief, the drunk, the butler, the maid, the homeless person or the villain.

Outside of reconciliation week and NAIDOC week Aboriginal & TSI culture is under celebrated – a couple of weeks a year is not enough to honour these people and the strength they have brought and bring to society. How is it that society has missed that Aboriginal and TSI are the backbone of this nation?

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are more likely to experience police brutality, they are more likely to end up in jail, and they are more likely to die in jail. 70% of 10-year-old children in jail are Aboriginal children.
Aboriginal women’s life expectancy is 7.8 years less than that of non-indigenous women, while Aboriginal men live around 8.6 years less than their counterparts.

If you were to walk into a shop with a BIPOC friend wearing the same clothes, carrying the same bag, one of you would be watched to make sure you don’t shoplift. And it wouldn’t be you.
If you were to stand in court with the same charge, you would be favoured.
If you were to be interviewed in a job, you would be more likely to be chosen for the position than a person of colour.
You are more likely to get the promotion, make more money, and finish your education.
Your relationship with law enforcement will, in general, be more positive.
You are more likely to learn about white colonisation in Australia than First Nations history. Your culture and past are celebrated.
When you walk into a store to find makeup, it’ll be easy to find one to suit your skin tone.

I am only skimming the surface here as the issue is too big to cover in its entirety in one small letter, but this is the reason this letter is needed. We need a starting point for our minds and eyes to be opened and this is the starting point.

Your white skin favours you within society, it works to your benefit and gives you privileges that BIPOC don’t experience and won’t experience without drastic changes.
These changes would force those in power to relinquish their privilege. Committing to the necessary changes needed within society for equality, requires sacrifice. I wonder if society is ready to make sacrifices and give up their privilege? Maybe the necessary changes haven’t been made because those changes force us to self-reflect and confront our flaws. The reality of all of this is that the problem is not with BIPOC, but with Caucasian and the way they treat BIPOC.

Black lives don’t start to matter now because white men decided they do. I cannot stress this enough - Black lives have always mattered. Black, Indigenous, People of Colour have always mattered and will always matter. No skin colour has the right to dictate another’s worth. Black lives need to be treated for what they are - important, beautiful, strong, fierce lives with worth, hope, dreams, pasts, futures and value. They can no longer be treated as less than!!!

The problem has never been black lives, it’s always been white lives.

BlPOC are not causing issues, white people are. We are. I am and I have caused issues because we are casually racist. It is in our day-to-day lives, day-to-day conversations; “all taxi drivers are Indian”, “all bad drivers are Asian”, BIPOC are called ‘lucky’ when they make it into the spotlight. Why is it they are lucky? Do they not deserve to be there too, not out of luck, but just out of skill and talent?
Casual racism hides behind being inconspicuous, making it even more insidious.
If we aren’t yelling “abo” or booing a football player, we believe we don’t fit into the racist category and deny any affiliation with it because we miss it within ourselves. What would be more beneficial would be to look internally, admit our short falls and fix within ourselves the deep bias towards Caucasians which has been established within us from birth.
When we can’t see the problem lays within, we become passive because “I would never do that”. We allow for things to be said and done and because it doesn’t roll off our tongues, we believe we are in the clear.
Our silence, however, endorses a culture which favours white over black. In not correcting, not responding, not challenging, not reposting, not sharing, not donating, and not educating we are endorsing and allowing for this deep-rooted racism to be passed on and continue as it has always done.

I’ve been passive in the face of racism. I’ve become tense when I’ve heard something said or see something done. Instead of using my voice for change, fear has wrapped its hands around my vocal cords, and I’ve allowed for it to win. My silence has echoed through my mind for days, reminding me of the BIPOC lives I neglected to defend. It’s in my silence that I’ve said the most. My silence has endorsed racism, my silence has contributed to racism and my silence has made me racist. And my silence has silenced the voice of BIPOC. When I lift my voice, it amplifies their voice.

Racism has two voices - loud and quiet. The loud yells out racial slurs, the quiet is in the casual day-to-day, not as obvious but just as cancerous.

Anti-racism also has two voices - loud and quiet.

The loud takes the knee at a sporting match, posts a blog, reposts on social media, attends protests.
The loud voice of anti-racism recognises change needs to happen in society. The loud voice recognises that society is better when BIPOC are included, represented, recognised and through their voices being heard ongoing change can be implemented.

To become a loud voice, we first need to use the quiet voice. The quiet voice recognises that their lives are better off when there are people from all walks of lives influencing their day-to-day.
The quiet voice talks to others about their beliefs, is brave in talking with others when racism is recognised. The quiet signs petitions to change the date, reads books (I am reading Australia Day by Stan Grant), listens to podcasts (I am listening to Too Pretty to be Aboriginal and Always Was, Always Will Be).

The quiet voice recognises change needs to happen within themselves. I think the quiet voice is our starting point. Alexis, I can’t post this publicly and not stand for BIPOC privately. People cannot change the issues within society if they can’t see the issue first lays within their heart and mind.

And we need to be prepared to be corrected as we learn. It's time to be teachable - if we say the wrong thing and are corrected by BIPOC, we need to listen, because we don’t know, and we don’t understand. This is their narrative, their hurt, their voice. Saying something and getting it wrong is better than saying nothing at all, but if you’re ready to speak, you must also be ready to listen and learn. Yes, this is their narrative, but this is our fight. It's non-indigenous who are racist. It's you, it's me, which is why this is our fight.

When George Floyd was murdered, I posted on Instagram, “I don’t see your skin, I see your heart.” When I wrote it, it was with the best intentions. I’ve since learned that even that comment was ignorant. You see, what I should have written is, “I see your colour, I see your skin and I see your heart. I stand with you. Your skin colour doesn’t change the way I see you as a human and won’t change the way I treat you” When we see skin colour, we see and acknowledge the struggles and the racism that BIPOC face daily. When we see skin colour, it means that we are acknowledging that they are more likely to face hardship every day.

For far too long BIPOC have been downcast and downtrodden and society has been ill-informed on their character, their humanity, their history, and their legacies.

And now, society is missing out. We are missing out. What beautiful people they are. What rich, understated, overflowing and vibrant culture they hold, what a strong history they have to their name.

BIPOC have shaped and influenced our world, but it’s not as well known.

Our society lacks in so many ways because we are closed minded to those who can make a change. I think the answer is within focusing on the strength of BIPOC, allowing their voices which have past been silenced to now be lifted, to be amplified.

Alexis, it is not okay that black lives are less important than white ones in history and right now. The way society is currently functioning is not okay. Because COVID isn’t just the only virus destroying our world. Racism and the devaluing of BIPOC is a virus which has been around, killing millions, for thousands of years.
We can no longer claim ignorance to the difference in treatment.
I could have written this letter long ago, but I didn’t know. The black lives matter movement opened my eyes to the depth of racism within not just our society, but within myself. There is a disappointment I have in realising just how blind I was and that it took a movement for me to gain more understanding. I don’t want you to be blind to it, or complacent to it. The truth is scary and so is using your voice, but the opposite is completely unfathomable and unacceptable, and it scares me even more. It seems scarier to me to accept racism, to not stand with the BIPOC community, to not say anything.

The fading response to the black lives matter movement is not okay. The posts on social media are fading, the media isn’t covering it anymore, there isn’t an uproar. There is a real possibility of once again becoming complacent in our silence. That’s where we’re at as a society, we are at risk of falling back into complacency.
But this is where I want to step in, and want you to step in, where others need to step in. It shouldn’t take another death or severe act of racism to spark an uproar again. I’ll use the voice I have, to teach you to use the voice you have, to amplify the voices of BIPOC. I’ll repost and talk and advocate. We’ll read and have conversations. We’ll learn together. We, you and I, will be an advocate for change, we will use our voices to be heard, so the voices of the BIPOC community, which have been silenced for far too long, are the voices we hear the most.
​
Alexis, BLACK LIVES MATTER.

Alexis,

I wish I had started this when you were about to turn one. Writing to you at the end of each year, talking about the year that has passed and the one that will follow. I feel late to the game. But we’re here now, so let’s make this a tradition that starts now.

It’s your eighth birthday. I can’t really gather my thoughts about you turning eight. Time moves differently after you have children and your measurement of time becomes their growth. As a parent, I think your life becomes so entwined with your child’s that no memory can be remembered in isolation. When a memory comes into my thoughts, I think of where you were and how old you were; what you were doing and learning. And, of course, every birthday I think back to when you were born and the lead up to your birth. I think about what life was like this time eight years ago. You were tucked away inside me and I assumed you would remain as such for a few more weeks. But, soon you would make your grand entrance and I would meet the love of my life, the stealer of my heart, the capturer of my thoughts, and the apple of my eye. I would meet my Alexis, Lex, Lexi, Lexi-lu-pop, Lexi-Lu, Lu-pop, Lu, babe, babe face, possum, possum tree, small fry, small human. I would meet you.

Moving forward many years, when you turned seven, your life looked very different to how it does now. Then you were an only child. In both of your homes, you only lived with one other person; your dad at his house, and me at mine. A few days after your birthday, though, you found out you were going to be a big sister, that there was another little life growing inside me. Your dad was getting married that November and his house would go from just you and your dad to you, your dad, step-mum and step-sister. As my stomach expanded, Cobby moved in and we adjusted to a house with three people in it, while we prepared for the arrival of number four. In November, we also welcomed Georgie and Charlie into our lives, two little bunnies that have caused so much grief, but also a lot of love and laughs.

Your seventh year has definitely been your most eventful year yet. I think there are years and times and situations that define and shape us as individuals and I truly believe this year has been one of those for you. I had a feeling that this year would make you or break you, and I was prepared for both. This year has shown me your determination, your strength, your bravery and your resilience as you’ve faced the highs, the lows and the uncertainties of life. You have had to experience so many new emotions and learn how to navigate them. There have been lots of tears and lots of learning.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt as protective of you as I have this year. You struggled at school with bullying. My heart would sink, and does sink, every time my phone rings and someone from school is on the other end of the phone. I’ve been to meetings, I’ve spoken to the principal, sent emails, and spoken to your teacher. I worry when I drop you off at school, but you always leave with a smile on your face and run down to your classroom, not before turning around, over and over, as we yell out to each other “I love you”. I’m proud of you, my darling. You have shown so much resilience and bravery. It makes me sad that you’ve had to find these qualities within yourself at such a young age. It’s heartbreaking that such young children not only know how to bully, intimidate and hurt other children, but also that those who are targeted have to learn how to manage such treatment.

I’ve tried to keep our home and our relationship as normal and as stable as possible. I want our home to be a place that you’ll always know what you’re going to walk into. A place full of hugs, laughter, rest, peace and love. I continually try to make it a safe haven; when you drop your school bag on the floor, all the fears, worries and hurt from the day fall with it.

Of course, as we welcomed Solomon into our lives, it hasn’t always been the quiet place that we were used to. His crying gets the better of you, which I appreciate and understand. Although it hasn’t always been smooth sailing, you are gracious, patient and understanding when he needs something. You are so helpful with him. I’m so grateful for every time you put his dummy back in, every time you bounce him in his bouncer so I can get ready in the morning. Every time you get a nappy, or wipes, or a toy, you have no idea how much of a difference it makes. I know that Solomon absolutely adores you. I love watching him as he watches you. He stares at you each time you move across the room and a smile creeps across his face every time he sees you. You are a beautiful big sister, just as you are a beautiful daughter.

Though you are resilient, you are also so soft of heart! Thank you for your patience with me as I learn that although you are the big sister now, you are still so young. While it is in your nature to be independent, sassy, and sarcastic, sometimes you also need to cry, talk about your worries, and want a million cuddles. I sometimes think you feel like you need to be one or the other, but you don’t. You can and need to be both.

Just the other day you got angry at me for something. When I asked what was wrong, you articulated what you were feeling so well, “Mum, I don’t want to be late for soccer training and there is so much I have to do!” Upon saying this you became calmer, gave me a cuddle and asked for help. Your emotions are big, and you should embrace them. You don’t need to know how to deal with them yet. Let the adults around you help you navigate what you’re feeling and support you. Sometimes I can’t even navigate my emotions, so don’t worry too much when you can’t navigate yours. Give yourself lots and lots of time.

I worry about the shame you seem to carry when I get frustrated with you. You have nothing to be ashamed of, nothing to fear. You say "sorry" over and over, but it isn't needed. It seems as though you feel like I love you less when I'm feeling frustrated. But my feelings are not an indication of my love. My feelings change, my love does not.

This year, COVID-19 also entered our lives. Bloody COVID. Although, I hate COVID and the toll that it has taken on our lives, I’m grateful for our time at home together because it meant that you could spend time with your newborn brother and we could all adjust to life as a family. We both very quickly learnt that I’m not good at homeschooling, but I don’t think either of us were surprised by that. But we also baked together, played board games and made bath bombs. We watched survivor and made up our own survivor challenges. We watched live feeds from the zoo and drew elephants. And, we did do some schoolwork. The truth is that I was more worried about you feeling safe, secure and at ease. I tried to make life as easy as possible. There were a lot of snuggles, facetime with friends, and also dealing with the anger you felt about staying at home, the fear you felt about the virus, and the sadness you felt because you missed your peers. Lockdown and homeschooling weren’t just about doing the tasks that the teacher set for you, it encompassed so much more than that. I love the extended time with you and knew that we would never have this again, so I embraced it as best I could, and you embraced it the best you could.

I’m glad for your sassy, confident attitude, though sometimes it can become borderline rude. I’m scared of destroying your confidence, so I don’t always know how to respond. I think your attitude is important and I think it’s of benefit to you and will continue to be in the future. As the world tries to steal your sass from you, I want to be the one who encourages you to keep it and fight for it.

Alexis, I’m proud of you and the person that you have become.
You are strong and strong of character.
You are hilarious; you always have us laughing and in shock.
You aren’t really good at taking a joke when it’s on you, but you’re learning.
You have big feelings in that big heart of yours and you are getting better at articulating them.
You have really come into your own style. You are forever stealing my hoodies and you have started telling me to check with you when I buy you clothes, amusingly telling me, “Mum, you and I just have such different styles!”
At school, you have a beautiful group of friends and you are well loved by your peers and teachers. I’m proud of you for that, but I’ll always be prouder of you for the way you treat others. I would prefer for you to get rewards for your character than your academia.

I’ve seen the way this year has challenged you. The way it’s tested you, your emotions, your mind and your heart. It’s tired you out, mentally and emotionally.
But, at times, it has also offered excitement and opportunity and learning.
And you, you have embraced this last year with the widest of arms and an open heart.

As for this next year, Alexis, I hope that the next year is easier and calmer than the last, with no big changes like this one has thrown at you. I hope that the bullying stops, but I promise to stand with you and support you if it doesn’t. I want you to be kind, but to have boundaries and expectations of others. You don’t have to be kind if it means putting yourself at risk of being hurt. Some people need you to teach them how to treat you. It shouldn’t be your job, but it will be.
You also need to be kind to yourself. I want to teach you that saying “no” can sometimes be the kindest thing you can do for yourself. Always speak your mind and your heart, and ask for help when you need it.

I promise to try and keep the magic in your childhood for as long as I can. Even though you are growing older, I promise to try and delight you whenever I can. I promise to play with you, even when you want to play taxis and accountants (potentially the two worst games ever), I promise to learn to prioritise play time over cleaning.
I promise to talk to you about the yucky and hard stuff. I’m learning that protecting you from everything isn’t setting you up for success.

Above all else, I promise that you will always be loved, encouraged, seen and heard. No matter what age you are.

Goodbye seven, hello eight.