racism on australia day, page-30

"We grew here, you flew here". That's quite an offensive slogan on a t-shirt someone had. Freedom of speech is one thing but you cannot yell bomb in an airport so of course there are logical restrictions to this freedom.


http://www.news.com.au/story/0,,24973820-5007146,00.html

How dare fools ruin our national day
By Paul Kent

THE truth of Australia Day was the Australian flag became a symbol of the mob.
Hijacked by the clueless, if not the ruthless. Its tragedy is that it is our tragedy: the mugs are being allowed to get away with it.

Each year their aggressive behaviour, their anti-social overtones, reach new heights.

The mugs were not celebrating Australia Day. They were celebrating Australia's freedom, which includes the freedom to be jerks.

They have hijacked our flag as part of it. If we complain, it's because we don't get it. If we don't, then we contribute to the gradual slide.

Here are mugs out of control.

Our flag has become their fashion accessory. A cape for alter-egos.

What was Australia Day to you?

To one young man, almost old enough to legally drink, it was walking across the pedestrian crossing on Terrigal Esplanade and dropping his stubbie.

Too drunk to hang on to it, he was naturally too drunk to pick up the broken glass. So he kept walking, leaving heaven knows how many young children fresh off the sand to learn the hard way.
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What was Australia Day to you?

For Grant King, an eyewitness, it was about 30 young men rumbling along Burelli St, Wollongong.

One youth steps in front of traffic, stopping cars. Another attaches himself to one of those cars, its side mirror in particular, and begins a quick courtship.

Another youth spits at an elderly couple. "What the f. . . are you looking at?" He might be surprised by the answer.

Australia Day was two bright looking girls, in their Union Jack and southern cross swimming costumes on Manly Beach. They stand with a young man as fine examples of Australian potential.

Across their bellies, in proud English, they write: "F. . . off, we're full".

North of Sydney, south of Sydney, in Sydney. Our flag is their uniform. Their Southern Cross tattoos the going standard for patriotism. You disapprove, then you just don't get it.

So the mobs cannon through the neighbourhoods, intimidating many they run in to, intentionally or not.

"There is this ugly, mutant form of nationalism that has unpleasant overtones, at best," Manly Superintendent Dave Darcy said.

"It makes people feel uncomfortable."

The louts don't recognise it. Alcohol has diminished their ability.

But the ugly Aussie is a look we don't need. Can they understand?

Where this surge in nationalism came from is uncertain, but Supt Darcy denies it stems from the Cronulla riots of 2005.

He does not even believe it is racially motivated, an opinion not wholly shared.

"We grew here, you flew here", written across a back in Dee Why, according to "Booka" on the web, first came to light during Cronulla.

Supt Darcy believes it started in 1988, when the muted bicentennial celebrations revealed a growing apathy for Australia Day. From there a deliberate effort was made in schools to recognise and celebrate, the results now coming through.

Somewhere along the line, though, we have veered off in a dangerous direction.

"It's the day at the cricket you can no longer have," Supt Darcy said.

Mob mentality.

In Melbourne, bravehearts calling themselves Southern Cross Soldiers flexed their muscles and draped themselves in the flag as they went looking for deserved trouble. Their charter is to lobby against anti-Caucasian racism, the kind that simmered on Australia Day.

For this hearty group, not a peep when some Pacific Islanders walked past at Mordialloc. Hardly a whimper when heavily outnumbered during the Australia Day parade - featuring Turkish dancers, Chinese dragons, new African arrivals - down Swanston St.

They finally got tough when - 15 against one - a photographer attempted to take their picture.

Pushing, shoving , lens blocking.

They faded badly when a solitary policeman walked on the scene.

These young men need respect.

Most of all, they need to know that to earn it you learn it.

When the louts took over Terrigal young mums and their young children found shelter at the rock pool, away from the drunken crowd.

This was still well before lunch, in an alcohol free place.

Their distance from the mob could not have been any more deliberate but the louts came anyway.

They always do.

They swamped the rock pool with cartons on their shoulders, like soldiers wearing stripes, and amid the young mums and children they began punctuating their speech with their wonderful language. Finally one young mother stood and approached them.

"How dare you," she said.

She spoke for a generation.