No Red Neck Here

I grew up in the little town of Red Deer, Alberta, Canada. The very heart and soul of red neck country. It hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

Alberta is floating on a sea of oil and gas. The prairie above grows grains and canola, and of course now – cannabis. The province is dotted with farms and small towns. The people drive half tonne trucks and carry guns. I didn’t see my first black person face to face until I was 18. There were a few asians in our community, and we welcomed Vietnamese refugees into our church, sponsored them, dressed them and set them free. We felt good about that.

Slowly, over the years, the province became a bit more colourful. But it did not sit well with the people. Fear is born of ignorance.

It’s ramped up to a dangerous level lately. It makes me sad and angry. I’m ashamed to be a child of that area.

Is Australia better? No. No, and no. It’s worse. But it’s more stealthy. We pretend to welcome everyone in the world, when really, our sad history of wanting to remain a “pure” country remains.

On 23 December 1901, the Immigration Restriction Act came into law.

The legislation was specifically designed to limit non-British migration to Australia and allowed for the deportation of ‘undesirable’ people who had settled in any Australian colony prior to federation.

It represented the formal establishment of the ‘White Australia policy.

Yep. I know. Beyond shameful.

Attorney-General Alfred Deakin, 12 Sept 1901:

That end, put in plain and unequivocal terms … means the prohibition of all alien coloured immigration, and more, it means at the earliest time, by reasonable and just means, the deportation or reduction of the number of aliens now in our midst. The two things go hand in hand, and are the necessary complement of a single policy — the policy of securing a ‘white Australia’.

THis was finally dismantled by the Holt government in 1966 and its complete elimination by the Whitlam government in the 1970s with the introduction of policies like the Racial Discrimination Act in 1975.

1975. Not 1875. 1975. This is the country I live in.

And then of course there is the first nation issue. When I was about 8 or 9 years old, our school took a day trip to a nearby reservation – Hobbema. I had never gotten up close to a first nation person before, and I’m ashamed to say I was a little frightened. We walked around the reservation – looking at artifacts in a museum, and looking around at how they lived – rather like animals in a zoo. The shame I feel now about that day still makes my face burn.

I feel the same way about the treatment of our Australian first nation people. I have made an effort to learn as much as I can about them – their history and their stories. They are a people rich with history, beauty and art, and sadly, are kept to their own areas. There is very little integration, and when there is, there is often trouble.

Red Necks. White Supremacists. We haven’t made any progress. 11 dead in a Jewish synagogue? in 2018? What the hell is going on. Oh, and while I’m ranting – the king of the White Supremiscists – Trump – when you go to a Jewish funeral, you wear a yarmulke and your wife covers her hair. You do this out of respect. Your son in law is Jewish. There are no words.

It’s starts with each of us. We are each responsible for making our own tiny little bit of difference. Speak out. Reach out. Make a new friend. Clean you neck and fill your mind.

You’ll make me grateful.