Sunday, July 23, 2006

To be or not to be - that is the family question for IR

It's a sad day today. Despite my best optimistic efforts, the inescapable truth of today confronts me. The gap between the middle and working classes will never be closed. Those few of us who manage to jump the barrier, from one class to another, are indeed the privileged.

For many months we've heard the Federal Government bang on at length that the new Industrial Relations laws provide choice - but seem to be blinded to which side of the argument the choice is provided for.

Look at the surveys conducted around Australia every few months. Young people today indicate lifestyle is more important than money. Young and established families indicate family time is the number one priority - dad's want to be a part of their children growing up in this generation. Baby Boomers indicate genuine excitement at the lifestyle opportunities provided with retirement.

And yet our IR laws are destined to rob the lowest income earners from the basic fundamentals - control of their own environment, including time to rest, recover - and be something, someone else - before returning to work.

I grew up in a household where my father worked all day, and my stepmother all night. This meant that from the age of seven, myself and two stepbrothers rose with the sparrows and dad, and following dad's departure, spent the next two hours every morning engrossed in chores (well one of us anyway!), tooth and nail arguments and the eventual trek to school. In the evenings, the step mother often already on her way to work, we children would spend another hour or more on our own before pater returned from his laboured efforts. And because we were such a poor family, this routine often extended into the weekends, where any opportunity of financial reward for overtime was anxiously taken up - anything to remove the financial pressure. And during school holidays? Well the step-mother became extremely cantankerous through sleep deprivation, anxiously looking forward to the re-incarceration of the overly vital sprog in the State education system.

And the result of this financial focus over family? Aside from the fact that we managed to burn down the kitchen one morning (the dispute with dad still rages over whether or not he told us to turn off the pot of cat food on the stove), the cracks to the family psyche were much deeper, and while seemingly slow to show themselves, were evidently there all along.

You see, we never learnt to behave as a family - how to draw together as a cohesive unit under duress. We didn't spend time negotiating our differences and learning how to get along - how could the children possibly learn, when the adults were never present together to role model. And because the parents didn't spend much time together - they never learnt how to enjoy each others company. Family disputes were crashingly resolved through violent action and the most heinous, unforgivable insults . We, the children subsequently learnt to resolve our own differences through violence (stepbrothers) or scathing sarcasm (me). Masters of role model mimicry.

And we weren't alone. In a low income area, where both parents worked, a "Lord of the flies" battalion of children progressively emerged in our area. That battalion is now into its second generation, with no visible change. Each family characterised by the lack of time it devotes to itself.

My "family"? Well naturally, it fell apart. Well more than fell apart. I had worked myself to the bone through high school to make sure I had the choice of university opportunities - and disappeared a week into my seventeenth year to the other end of the country.... as far as I could possibly remove myself from the 'family'.

My (two months older) eldest step-brother - after many years of rejection from his mother - commenced a painful journey that included several bouts of attempted suicide, and culminated into several nervous breakdowns before an eventual schizophrenia diagnosis. He seems to have generated a new life around him. I am extremely proud of him - but we longer have contact.

My youngest (eight months younger) step-brother, a pathological liar and thief as a child - exited school illiterate, with a strong suspicion of drug abuse. He progressively developed an exceptional life around himself, before collapsing with the strain of his brother's mental illness, and moving back into drug abuse. He however pulled himself back out and is again leading an exceptional life. I am extremely proud of him too - again, we have no contact.

Dad and the step mother moved through an incredibly acrimonious and bitter divorce - where the lawyers on both sides made a fortune. All the overtime, all the family sacrifice, in one foul swoop, handed over to the lawyers as payment for their lasting failure to get along - for putting money ahead of family. The step mother and I do not have contact.

There are incredibly sad and acrimonious times ahead for many families. Yes, I'm a working mum - for both financial necessity and because I want to. But by the same token, my family lives comfortably. We may have to squeeze pennies at times, but we're not servants of the eternal dollar. I work in a comfortable, union negotiated work arrangement, where holidays and sick leave are relatively protected. And I wouldn't give these things up because they are important to me - and to my family.

And I've yet to meet a family who would willingly give them up - other than to ensure they have an income. And yet this is how the IR tool is being used.

For a government so pretentiously pushing the family line, it seems to be doing its level best to pressure these incredibly fragile units. Families cope with strain when they have nourished on togetherness. Without it, they are just another group of maladjusted members of society.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Sycophantic cowards unite - into an oleaginous pool of flattery

Political correctness is turning our society into apathetic cowards.

Case in point. Most people don't understand affirmative action - particularly those who employ underneath its umbrella.

Affirmative action is intended to make sure that those whom are frequently discriminated against in a process (such as employment) where the source of discrimination is immaterial to their ability to do their job/ represent/ etc - or can be reasonably accommodated within the confines of the role - are given the opportunity to prove themselves.

This is an honourable thing to do - and helps to correct the great wrong that is a fact of our society - we really do form opinions on worth and ability based on first impressions.

But what affirmative action is NOT intended to do is canonise anyone employed under its mantle - or excuse poor performance, lack of genuine ability - or unscrupulous if not illicit behaviour.

Most people operating under affirmative action just want a chance to shine at what they do - no special recognition - just the minimum that we all take for granted - and they should be given the opportunity.

But what screws it up for everyone - those under it, and those jostling up against it - is the way in which it is abused. Under performers employed under this action (often by employers fearful of not meeting their quotas) fail to be addressed - or are more likely to be promoted to the next level of incompetence. No one wants to brave the process.

But the truly heinous crime in all of this is the loss of our voices. Us. The great majority. We seem to lack the strength to call bad behaviour when it involves someone from an affirmative action group. Why? Because we can't in our own minds - or if we can, are terrified that everyone else can't, and will therefore think that we can't - separate the affirmative action descriptor from the person - we can't leave the label outside of the workplace if that 's how they've entered.

And the danger in this is that there are toxic personalities in every workplace - in every work group, in every demographic. So stop discriminating - if you don't put up with toxic behaviour from a non-affirmative action employee - then don't put with it from an affirmative actionee. Shoot it down, call it for what it is.

And more to the point - if the bastard has been pissing on you from a great height for the last however many months simply because he/she can - don't tune in to the "group think" and make excuses for him/her because of (your perception) their "affliction" when fate starts to catch up with their ill deeds.

It might surprise you to realise that conniving, malevolent maelstrom personalities aren't exclusive to the majority - they turn up in every demographic - and freely operate across all of them.

If they've been the catfish (scum sucking bottom dwellers) of your environment, then rejoice in their comeuppance. And stop the hypocrisy you low-life sycophant. What goes around comes around.

So take your hands out of your pockets and speak plainly for what you see. Call it for what it is. And give courage to those who would try to speak. Give voice to those who are in the minority and so badly misrepresented by the self-serving catfish. Who knows when your time will come as one of the minority.

break away from the lassitudinous pack of curs. You know who you are - now get on with it!

Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Cake for the Rhodent

All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats,
on John Howard fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease

Repetitive, and a tad juvenile, I know - but such wonderful invective - and so much more powerful than this:

the rhodent is a cantankerous, mealy-mouth little turd whose egotistical neediness is sucking the marrow of our youth into slavery to support a generation trapped in a 50's version of the "lucky country", while consciously eroding all form of human rights and environmental safeguards to ensure the enslaved die before reaching lucky country status - or want to die because there's nothing left of the lucky country. It really is just a matter of time before we hear him yell - "Well then let them eat cake!!"

And no doubt push a few more overboard while he's at it. Conniving little scroat.

He's such an asshole.

Definitely not Shakespeare!

Tuesday, July 04, 2006

Say You, Say Me - too bloody right!!!

An update on the 'pack in white'. I was invited back to Chattering Chipmunk's school recently to give a scientific talk to another grade of students, and once again had to run the gauntlet of one of the pack in white.

"So meiultravires" she began in an ever so silky (but for the harpy screeching) tone, "What are you doing here - aren't you working today - I thought you were one of the working mums who are just too busy to come in to school and help out!!!"

Hell I've been looking forward to this. I hadn't prepared an answer, but I had been rather looking forward to meeting with this lot again since my earlier blog. And when you're on a lucky day, you'll get the all time worst offender. This woman has hyper-charged nostrils and can sense my presence the moment I stick my foot inside the school gate. She'll just suddenly appear around the corner of the building, nostrils flaring, like a bull seeking out the last scrap of red cloth in the ring. As I turned to face her, I could see her pawing the ground, snorting through her nostrils, ready to charge.

So do I tell her "Well as it so happens, I am working today - but work owes me quite a bit of time at the moment, so I'm back at the school at their request, and will head on to work later." No - too much like defence. A little too nice - and open to further discussion.

An angry flick of the horns - she's clearly ready to charge. I cannot help but smile.

"Well that's the whole point really - I'm such a damn good mother - I do both!"

Can't say I've run into her since. Perhaps she's just too busy?