Tag Archives: Embracing difference

Revisiting your roots

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I left Kalgoorlie 24 years ago, but it’s amazing how much like home it still feels to me.

The Old House, 24 years later - Hard to believe it's still standing

It’s a pleasant realisation, as I sit here reminiscing about the weekend spent revisiting my roots, catching up with family, and sharing the experience (and the 8 hour drive each way) with my partner Denis, his 2 kids, and my dog Kahlua.

So much to see on the one, long road to Kalgoorlie...

[In case you don't know, Kalgoorlie is a large goldfields town, famed for its gold rush history, infamous Hay Street, old buildings, interesting characters, pubs, present day gold mining (of course) and red dirt.

Mining in Kalgoorlie

(I tell you now, it took us years after having left Kalgoorlie to get rid of the layers of red dirt over everything!).]

Why is it a pleasant realisation?

After two weekends in a row spent away – the first at the coastal town of Yallingup, 4 hours from Perth, and the second, 8 hours away in Kalgoorlie – it becomes so much more apparent to me that I love this country, especially for its diversity – the people, the cultures and its landscape.  [Seriously, I never thought I would ever appreciate the red dirt and intensity of the bush...especially being a pale, red-head with freckles who can burn after 10 minutes in the Aussie sun!]

Deep down, I think I am a country girl at heart.

You can take the girl out of the country...

 Do you still have a connection with where you lived when you were younger?

 

 

Oneness is the Secret of Everything

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Today’s guest post in ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series is from Samantha Bangayan, a Canadian freelance-writer, editor, translator and creator the blog ‘What Little Things’.

 

“All differences in this world are of degree, and not of kind, because oneness is the secret of everything.”

– Swami Vivekananda

I have always felt different. I think we all do at times.

My parents moved to Canada when I was only 6 months old. Like typical immigrants, our household became a mesh of generations and cultures: Chinese (blood), Filipino (birth), and Canadian (environment).

A First Taste Of Canada, Photo by Samantha Bangayan

Though I was an immigrant baby growing up amidst the immigrant community of Vancouver, I never seemed to fit snugly into a group. Some immigrants were highly conservative while others were too liberal for me. My parents added an extra layer of complexity as they were a rather odd, inexplicable mix of both extremities. I have never found the right balance among my values: respect for elders, community responsibilities, familial honor, independence, autonomy, and freedom.

Maybe that’s what encouraged me to travel – to force myself to stop running around in circles and instead, find the openness to learn more about others and myself.

A First Taste Of Japan - Photo by SamanthaBangayan

I was surprised by how the same we all are. My Thai dorm-mate in Japan pondered the meaning of life with me. The American who has lived for four years here in Peru has a family member with a developmental disorder too and misses him just the same.

A First Taste Of Peru - Photo by Samantha Bangayan

What I’m growing to realize is that there will always be moments that we feel different from each other no matter how similar we are in ethnicity, education, culture, or any other facet. But this never has to result in barriers because there is also always something we can find in common with another even if just as human beings.

I imagine humans on different pages of a book that can be read left-to-right (like how you’re reading this right now) but also right-to-left (such as in Arabic, Hebrew, Chinese, and Japanese). There is no beginning or end, no positive or negative poles, and we move through the pages, back-and-forth, writing our stories in life’s big book as we learn, grow, and develop.

An event may put us on the same page as someone we originally thought to be so different from us. Similarities and differences remain. That’s what makes us individuals. It’s what makes each of us so unique.

If you would like to be a part of ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series, please contact me at janine.ripper@gmail.com.

I would love to share your story.

Let’s open our eyes and ‘see’ the person within

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Growing up in a country mining town, I was surrounded by racism, sexism and bigotry.  It would have been easy for me to have adopted this way of ‘thinking’, but thankfully I didn’t. 

I am blessed to have met some of the most amazing, beautiful, open-minded people from all corners of the Earth, who have shared their cultures, their thoughts, their food, their clothes, their friends, their families and their stories with me.  My life is so much richer for it.

When we open ourselves up to the world, and the people in it, we start to understand others, and they understand us.  We shouldn’t ‘see’ people first by colour, race, gender, religion, nationality, etc.  We should first see them as a person.

“There never were in the world two opinions alike, no more than two hairs or two grains; the most universal quality is diversity”

Michel de Montaigne – Philosopher and Writer, 1533-1592

Is there anything wrong with shyness?

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Shyness is something I’ve had to come to terms with throughout my life, and it has taken me a long time to realise that there is nothing wrong with it.

That’s why I do get surprised when the good old ‘shyness is strange’ discussion crops up every now and again.  Sure, many people who know me now don’t see me as a shy person.  What they don’t know is that from a little girl I was seriously shy, right into my mid-20′s in fact.

For years I thought that there was something wrong with me – which possibly compounded the problem.  But realistically what made it worse were the constant comments regarding my shyness, and the never-ending attempts to make me blush (which wasn’t hard).  What sticks out in my mind is the treatment from others.  It was like I was weird. Okay – I didn’t like large crowds, I hated to be the centre of attention, sometimes I hardly said boo – especially when meeting new people, and yes – I blushed easily.  I also struggled with meaningless ‘chit chat’, which was half of the meeting new people problem.

In the 50′s I would have been referred to as a ‘wall flower’.  In the 90′s I was a freak, I wasn’t interested in anything, I was boring, I didn’t exist, and of course – I had ‘issues’.

It’s really only now – as I sit here – thinking deeply about it, that I realise that deep down I know they were all wrong. There was nothing wrong with me being a shy kid. In fact, it was made worse by being treated as if something was wrong. And then, perhaps then I did develop some ‘issues’ – but don’t we all as we get older?

The world needs all types of people, and they don’t all have to be bubbly, exuberant, chatty socialites.  Just imagine it – eek!

I’ve gotten better at not making people feel uncomfortable with my shyness.
- Clea Duvall

Read more:http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/shyness.html#ixzz1eR9GmCcV

 

 

 

 

Different People Who Made a Difference

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Helen Keller was an inspiring woman who refused to let physical differences stop her from living her life.  

‘I seldom think about my limitations, and they never make me sad.

Perhaps there is just a touch of yearning at times;

But it is vague, like a breeze among flowers’.

She became deaf and blind at the age of 19 months, but this did not hold her back from becoming an educated woman, learning how to communicate in numerous ways, and becoming a world-famous speaker and writer.  She is known as the first deaf-blind person to graduate from university.

‘All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming’.

Helen devoted much of her life to championing for the rights of the blind, amongst other causes. She was also known as a suffragist, a pacifist, a socialist and a birth control supporter.  She was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1964 and was inducted into the Women’s Hall of Fame in 1965.

Helen Keller

The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched … but are felt in the heart.

A truly admirable woman who can teach us all something, even today.

Do you know of a ‘different’ person who has made a difference?


Snapshot of The Beauty of Difference series

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Today I thought I’d provide you a snapshot of some of the heart-felt and inspirational posts that have been shared as part of ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series right here on Reflections From a Red Head.

In case you missed the meaning behind the series, I started it as an attempt to share with the greater world the stories of some of the amazing people I know from all over the world who are ‘different’ for some way or another.  So far people have shared their personal experiences with depression, bullying, racism, finding their identity, chasing their passions and learning to love themselves for who they are.

I had hopes to at least help a few people ‘see’.  I have been blown out of the water by each and every person who has shared their story with me, the stories themselves as well as those that have stepped by, read the posts and those that have taken the time to leave comments.

So here is a selection for you to sink your teeth into:

Inner Beauty Shining Bright: The first post in the series is special to me as, well, it was the first one, and after all it was a piece about a beautiful friend of mine – Afifah Mohd Salehan.

Stained, written by beautiful blogger Marie Loerzel from Rock the Kasbah. When I received this post via email from Marie my breath was taken away by how beautifully written it was.

The Beauty of Difference is…a stunning poem contributed by Calisha Bennet, from Diamonds of Islam.

The post that has received the most visits so far is Its About Damn Time I Like Me by the awesome Lalia Voce from Skank Rattle and Roll.

And the latest – The Beauty of Difference – by Abdul Mateen, of which one reader referred to as ‘absolute poetry’.

I hope you enjoy the selection, and please feel free to leave comments!

Also, if you are interested in participating, do not hesitate to contact me directly.

Janine

x

EVERYTHING HAS ITS BEAUTY BUT NOT EVERYONE SEES IT - CONFUCIUS

 

The beauty of difference

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Today’s post in ‘The Beauty of Difference’series comes to you from Abdul Mateen, a 26 year old hajji (title given to a Muslim person who has successfully completed the pilgrimage to Mecca) who currently resides in Melbourne, Australia. Abdul has a business degree in Marketing & Management and is certified in the field of Islam da’awah.  Abdul currently delivers lectures and works closely with the AMSSA (Australian Muslim Social Service Agency).  I you would like to contact Abdul he can be contacted at back2thesunnah@gmail.com

Since the fallout of 9/11 ‘beauty’ is a noun rarely, if ever, associated with religious difference. As a Muslim residing in the West, debunking fallacious arguments and sweeping generalisations under the prayer rug has become a full time – regrettably unpaid – second job. Extinguishing the fire of prejudice and dismantling stereotypes can be an exhausting task but is one of paramount importance in such a polarised world. At times I feel thrust under the microscope of suspicion; presumed guilty until proven innocent.

“Satan rejoiced when Adam (pbuh) came out of Paradise, but he did not know that when a diver sinks into the sea, he collects pearls and then rises again.”

– Ibn Qayyim (famous Islamic scholar)

I am a fundamentally different, radically unique, and extremely sincere individual who loves to smile in the face of adversity; however the media would tell you otherwise. Whether I like it or not I am commonly perceived as ‘the Other’. I have a long conspicuous beard – the kind that attracts a myriad of curious and leering eyes on the subway. My fuzzy appearance becomes a topic of conversation so I take the opportunity to remind people that 5 o’clock shadows have embellished many prominent Western figures throughout time. Did Abraham Lincoln’s Gettysburg address fall on deaf ears? The inauguration of Obama would suggest not; but the notion, all men are created equal, is not nearly manifested enough in my experience. Some 14 centuries ago, Muhammad (pbuh) informed us that our Lord is one, our father (Adam) is one, and no individual – irrespective of race – has superiority over another, except by way of piety.

The frequently discussed but seldom understood topic of women in Islam has become an indirect assault on the Muslim male; that is to say, every word of commentary on the so-called oppression of my wife, whether general or specific, implies a significant degree of wrongdoing on my behalf, and is ultimately attributed to a religion perceived as inherently misogynistic. Refuting baseless claims is the simple part; upholding good manners and adhering to Islamic etiquette is the real test.

“Invite (people) to the way of your Lord with wisdom and good counsel. And argue with them in the best of manners.” 

[Noble Qur’an 16:125]

I am a firm believer in connecting with people at a grass-roots level; earlier today I went to the city with the intention of providing clarity on common misconceptions enshrouding my religion. I assembled a small table and displayed a placard which poses the question, “what do you really know about Islam?” I spent the afternoon engaging with numerous individuals and enjoyed some fruitful discussions. I was approached by a young lady who was keen to learn more about the treatment of women in Islam. After citing copious examples including renowned British journalist Yvonne Ridley – a Taliban prisoner who converted to Islam after the kind treatment she received in captivity – the young lady smiled and conveyed her gratitude.

In an authentic hadith narrated by al-Tirmidhi, the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) said,

“The best of you is the one who is best to his wife.”

It deeply saddens me to discover there are some people who are genuinely surprised when they meet a Muslim man capable of holding a constructive and civil discourse; almost as tho they anticipate an aggressive medieval figure wielding a sabre. I can assure you that the closest I have come to blood-thirsty behaviour was vehemently opposing those who describing the Twilight series as a literary phenomenon.

In an authentic hadith reported in Sahih Al-Bukhari, the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) said,

“The strong is not the one who overcomes the people by his strength, but the strong is the one who controls himself while in anger.”

This is not a thinly-veiled attack on the Western world;

this is not academic penmanship grounded in objectivity;

this is not an excusatory or apologetic piece on behalf of the ummah;

this is, simply put, the modest expression of one Muslim man influenced by a unique set of circumstances and experiences;

this is the beauty of difference.

Simple really is best

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Today’s post for ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series comes from yours truly :)

Janine, The Bogan Teenager

Wikipedia defines the term bogan as:

‘Australian slang, usually pejorative or self-deprecating, for an individual who is recognised to be from a lower class background or someone whose limited education, speech, clothing, attitude and behaviour exemplifies such a background’.

Interesting.

I’ve never quite thought of myself or my family that way…I mean, we wore black Faberge jeans and flannelette shirts. My Dad rode motor bikes, wandered around with a pack of Winnie blues up his sleeve, and loved to drink rum. We all loved rock music. And yes – we didn’t have a lot of money.

In the 80′s we lived in a mining town called Kalgoorlie, populated by men with tattoos who road large, loud motor bikes, and came home every day from working in the mines – and having stopped at the local TAB to place a bet on the races – grotty and smelling like oil and beer. The women, well, half of them did it tough looking after their families, and rarely themselves. The other half worked in the infamous Hay Street brothels or as ‘skimpy‘ (scantily clad) barmaids.

I spent a lot of time riding my bike on the big, wide roads or gravel tracks, ‘growing’ frogs in the steel drum at my friends place, staging dance concerts to Mum on the wood pylons lying on the back yard (notably to the Bangles ‘Manic Monday’), and freaking out at the site of a monster red/orange centipede.

As kids, my brother, sister and I hung out at the pub with our folks and their friends, listening to Black Sabbath, Led Zeppelin and The Doors, trying to imitate the adults by playing pool and darts, or wishing we could get lucky on the used bingo cards lying around the place. We also sat around the open fire in the bush at night, listening to music, the reverberations from the sounds of the motorbikes going through your chest, pretending to sleep, but really waiting for the spuds (potatoes) to cook under the ashes – only to be slathered by butter and salt and devoured.

Sure, it wasn’t paradise, and it certainly wasn’t all good, but I’m grateful for growing up the way I did. It taught me the value of money – especially thinking back to Mum skipping meals so that she could feed her three kids baked beans on toast – and then worrying about what to feed the three dogs.

It taught me not to not judge people by appearances – ‘scruffy’ people, or people who rode bikes, wore black or looked rough, well they can turn out to be the most funniest, lovely or most philosophical people.

It also taught me to care for every living thing – so much so that I can’t even kill an ant. Mum and Dad brought home injured birds and lizards, we had horses. Mum tried to resuscitate a chicken once because it accidentally drowned.

But, most of all it taught me to be grateful for what I’ve got, for the family I have, to not be embarrassed of my roots, and that simple really is best.

Don’t settle for being normal – be EXTRAORDINARY!

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Today’s post for The Beauty of Difference series comes to you from Calisha Bennett, the writer behind the poem ‘The Beauty of Difference is…‘, of which she gave me the privilege of sharing with you on 11 October 2011. Calisha is also the creator and blogger at ‘Diamonds of Islam‘.

About Calisha

I am a 26-year-old, Australian born Muslim woman. My father is ‘Aussie’ and my mum is from Christmas Island. My dad embraced Islam when he was 22 and he married my mum not long after. I am happily married and am a home schooling mother of 3 beautiful children aged 8, 4 and 1. I also teach Quran recitation classes, run exercise classes, a teenage youth group and volunteer for different organisations when I can. I like to think of myself as a ‘freethinker’ and I continuously strive to discover the best ways of living life through education, research and taking from the wisdom of others (rather than simply ‘following the masses’).

Passion

I am passionate about my faith – Islam, and raising awareness of it’s true teachings and dispelling myths and misconceptions that are often portrayed by the media and those with dishonourable agendas. I am also passionate about child raising and holistic education and how important it is that children are raised with the ability to think deeply about things in life rather than living a shallow, materialistic existence. I am passionate about health and wellbeing particularly in our day and times where the majority of people are not aware that the illnesses which are the major causes of death and disease are directly related to our diet and lifestyle. I could go one but I’m passionate about everything in life really!

Difference

I don’t really see myself as ‘different’, as strange as that may sound. I feel as though I belong where I am and am comfortable with who I am and choose to be (whilst still wanting to grow and change for the better). I am however, aware that I may ‘seem’ as different to others because when I go out and I wear my Hijab (hair cover/scarf) people will look at me as being foreign – a migrant perhaps who speaks very little English. So I often feel underestimated. When I go out, I personally feel normal and like any other ‘Aussie’. This is where I grew up, this is my country and being an Australian Muslim is the only identity I’ve ever known and am proud of. So I guess it’s being Muslim that makes me different in Australia.

Experiences

Being part of the Muslim minority in Australia, our community really does cop some harsh racism and ill-treatment.  I have heard many negative stories from other Muslims and some much, much more hurtful than my own. I myself have quite a few stories, but I’ll mention a few examples of experiences.

Back in high school, I would be asked so many questions about ‘what I was’, why I wore that thing on my head and often got sarcastic comments that would get on my nerves. There were times in my adult studies where I could feel I wasn’t being included by other class members who were almost ignoring me so I had to really put myself out there and make conversation.

It’s sad to think that people would treat you so differently just because you wear a piece of fabric on your head. I’ve had people yell out at me from their cars while I am walking down the street. They’d yell things like ‘Go back to where you came from!’ or ‘Take that thing off your head!’ or my favourite ‘You terrorist!’ Even until now, when I am walking with my kids it still happens and they have an awful fright. It really upsets me when the kids have to witness or are victims of this type of treatment.

But on a positive note – the lovely, accepting and good-hearted people that I have met always manage to give me hope for the future of society. These are the people you look forward to meeting throughout the day and sharing smiles and conversation with! They make the world a better place!

Knowledge

I really want people to know that just because they don’t understand another person or their culture or faith, it doesn’t they have to be scared of it. Rather they should want to learn more about those who are different in order to appreciate their good points and to better understand others. Also I would want more people to question what they are fed by the society, the media and educational institutions. I want others to have a thirst for seeking AUTHENTIC knowledge and information as opposed to propaganda, falsified news reports, inauthentic historical facts, theories being taught as if they are ‘fact’ and so on.

Having an open, free thinking mind is something we should all aspire to attain because only then will we be able to accept the differences of others and be open to seeking the truth about the world we live in. Only with a free mind can we be true to ourselves and become accountable for our lives rather than being so easily influenced to think or live according to what is ‘expected’ and regarded as ‘normal’ to society. I say why settle for being ‘normal’? Rather be EXTRAORDINARY!

Celebrating Difference

By celebrating each other’s differences we will learn to accept one other as individuals and to nurture within ourselves positive character traits such as respect, tolerance, humility, acceptance and more. Being different is what makes our world such an exciting place to live. There are so many places to see, people to meet, foods to taste, cultures to embrace and more!

I think that the dislike of people who are different comes from traits such as pride and arrogance. This is where individuals are so ignorant of the world around them that they feel threatened by anything different and need to take the stance of being of a higher worth than the foreign other. But if they could just come back down to earth and realise they had absolutely no choice or power whatsoever in deciding who or what they would be born into this world as! Reality check! Good morning sunshine!

Words of Wisdom

I love a verse from the Quran in Chapter 13, Verse 28 where Almighty God says:

“Only in the remembrance of God will your heart find peace”.

In times where many are pursuing happiness and peace in temporal pleasures like material wealth, social status, external appearances, intoxicants and other things, I feel that true peace is in recognising and being thankful to the One True Creator of all that exists. Just remembering throughout the day, in good times and bad, that everything you go through is from God, can give you so much strength and calmness to get through the toils of life.

For me, knowing that everything around us has a purpose, from the trees, to water, to animals, to computers, to clothing, to insects, to a simple table – everything we see around us has a purpose. So to know that the highest and most intelligent of creation in this world – we human beings – must have a purpose (submission to God) is a truly liberating and peaceful realisation.  By submitting to one God, I feel as though I free myself from slavery or submission to anything/anyone else and that’s why I love Islam so much.

It’s about damn time that I like me!

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Today’s post in ‘The Beauty of Difference’ series comes to you from the awesomeness that is Lalia Voce – the blogger behind ‘Skank, Rattle and Roll‘.  Lalia is part of an amazing bloggers group I’m a member of called ‘Personal Bloggers Are Us’, and immediately struck a chord with me as she shared the grief and pain of losing her Grandma, whom she had a close relationship with, a few years ago (similar to myself).

Lalia has graciously agreed to share her experiences ‘on being different’ with us. Thank you Lalia.

Thank you Janine for including me in your series. Ever since you asked me to participate I have been thinking “what on earth can I contribute to this amazing series?” The stories I’ve read have been so moving and thought-provoking. I don’t feel in the same league with those who have already written here. I guess maybe that’s the point. After all, the series is about differences.

My story starts with a defining moment. It was in 1980 when, at age 14, everything started to change for me. It was literally a moment, sometime before 1:00 am, when I saw the B 52′s for the first time on Saturday Night Live. They were so weird, so different from anything my friends liked listening to, looked so strange and I knew. I knew right then that my life would never be the same. I knew this was something I had to see more of, know more of, hear more of. 

At that age, it’s hard to go against everything your friends are doing. But I couldn’t get that music out of my mind. And over the span of a few months there was no going back for me. I slowly went deeper and deeper into the world of new wave and punk rock. I changed my appearance as much as my school would allow. And one by one, my friends dropped me. They didn’t understand the music I was listening to. They didn’t want to understand it or hear it. They didn’t like the look I was starting to have. They were content with being mirror images of each other. Reading the same books, listening to the same music, dressing the same way. I couldn’t do it. I tried, but I couldn’t. I found me. I found me that night trying to stay awake to watch Saturday Night Live.

Before too long I found a whole different group of friends, amazing lifelong friends. We were the freaks. Back in the early 80′s that is what we were known as. Not so much by other kids in school, at least not that I’m aware of, but by other people when we were out. Looking back it seems so silly. But people fear what they don’t know. They judge by what they saw and didn’t care to know the person. We were stared at a lot then, judged and looked down on.

Bela, Photo by Lalia

Unfortunate things happened because of those judgments. Small things like name calling or people clutching their children as we walked by like we like we were going to eat them or something. To being seated in the back of restaurants by management so other patrons wouldn’t have to see us. To really horrible things like being chased by 3 cars loads of teenage boys who managed to get my car stopped and then bashed it with baseball bats, breaking out the back window and potentially really hurting my passengers. We were lucky no one was hurt that night. We did nothing but walk into a McDonald’s that night.

People fear what they don’t know. Whether it’s race, sexual orientation, or my stupid ass purple hair and tattoo’s. Yes, it’s 31 years later. But like I said, there was no going back for me. I will always be this person. When you do find yourself, why would you ever go backwards?

Grandma Tat

Nowadays I don’t get as much stink-eye as I did back then. Some – yes. And there are still people who judge and look down on me even though they don’t know or want to know me. If they bothered to get to know me and not make snap judgements they would know I went to Catholic school for 12 years. That I started working at age 16 and paid my way through almost everything I ever did. That I had an amazingly close relationship with my Grandmother up until she passed away 3 years ago. That I took a year out of my life to care for my ailing father. That I love animals, zebras in particular. That I have my own business. None of that matters. What mattered then and matters now is that my hair is purple. I have tattoo’s. I listen to punk rock music. So what! At this point in my life I’m pretty secure in who I am and I like her. I like her a lot. At 45 years old, I think it’s about damn time that I like me!