Claudia the Caterpillar

Chloe brought home a library book this week called "Claudia the Caterpillar". As I read the story to her I was struck at how relevant it was to our family at the moment.
In the story Claudia the caterpillar looks at all the butterflies flying around, and decides she wants to fly just like them. She climbs to the highest tree and leaps off - but just falls down. So she makes herself wings out of leaves and leaps from the highest tree - but just falls down. So then she asks God about her desire to fly like a butterfly - but instead of giving her wings, He leads her to the highest branch of the tree, and shuts her into a dark and cramped place. When she comes out of that place (the cocoon) she has grown wings and can fly.

This story completely captured a journey our family has been on, and I have been waiting for the right time to share this journey... and finally I can!

Almost 8 years ago Steve and I married, and I moved up to Sydney where he had been posted with the navy. He had not yet finished his training, so we were looking forward to the 6 months we were going to have together before he would be posted to a ship. We came straight from honeymoon up to Sydney, and had roughly 4 weeks together unpacking boxes, getting used to living with each other (we had spent the previous year in different states!) and trying to teach me how to navigate the maze of Sydney streets... when he was suddenly posted to a ship (despite the fact that he had not completed training). From that moment on he was away for weeks at a time, without any contact, and when he was back he worked long hours, had to do lots of extra weekend shifts, and he was absolutely exhausted. I was a newly married woman with barely a husband.
Around April he set off on a 3 month trip, and I had the 'fun' of eating alone every night miserable, lonely and unsure as to where and how my husband was. The navy lifestyle on the ships was at complete odds with our Christian values. There was a general consensus that what happens on ship stays on ship, and a complete lack of respect for marriage. One woman on the ship decided she would like my husband in her bed (she was dating someone from his ship as it was?!) - fortunately he had the self-discipline to tell her "hell no" (although he was more polite than that... I wouldn't have been if I'd had the chance but Steve banned me from confronting her on the base and telling her what I thought of her ). 
Anyway... long story short, the pressure on our brand new marriage relationship was intense, and neither of us were coping at all with the way things were. I knew without a doubt that the navy lifestyle was bad for our marriage, bad for us as individuals, and I could not believe that it was in line with God's will for us. But... he couldn't just "quit" the navy, there isn't that option... so there was no "out" in the natural for us. One week at church a visiting preacher spoke on prayer, and on the idea that we should not "negotiate" or "manipulate" God - just ask Him outright for what is on our hearts. So, I went home, and I wrote down what I wanted, and I prayed. My prayer and list was simple - "God, this situation is not good for us, and I cannot believe that it is what you want for us. Firstly, I want Steve off that ship and home. Secondly, I want him out of the navy". Within a few weeks Steve was flown home from Cairns after he spoke to his Warrant Officer to say that I wasn't coping. Within a few weeks of this, he was back on the ship, but developed extreme pain in his wrists and right knee. He was again taken off the ship to be assessed by doctors and specialists etc, and diagnosed with arthritis. This arthritis meant he could no longer work on ships, so he was put on shore permanently, and the process of 'medical discharge' was started.
The medical discharge was not a quick process. In fact, it took them over a year! However, he was paid, he was not at sea and his hours were much more normal!! We were incredibly grateful for God's intervention and miracle in finding us a way out of the navy. However, on the flip side, Steve could not work as an electrician as he had been trained because of his arthritis. He decided to retrain and become a podiatrist. It would mean that for 4 years he would be a full-time student, and so money would be tight, but we felt that in the long-term it was the best option.
For 4 years we stuck closely to a budget, and went without a great deal. I would love to say that it was easy, but it wasn't!! When Steve first started studying we applied for Centrelink payments, only to find out that they would not give us anything other than FTB for nearly 6 months because Steve had been given a payout from the navy. Unfortunately for us most of that payout had all gone on paying off car loans (and tax) because we had not expected to lose it. Steve managed to land Saturday work immediately, so we lived on FTB and his Saturday pay, and the little savings we had. I will never forget when the cold weather first hit, and Chloe did not yet fit any of the winter clothes I had, and I had to take her to church in a pair of woollen stockings that were mine as a baby, and a second-hand jumper we had been given. I could not spare any money to buy her anything. I was so blessed that my mum and Aunty went to Savers and found a few items that would fit her, and a few other things from the shops to get us through.
Anyway, 4 years on, 3 children later, and Steve graduated!!! We were soooo looking forward to being 'normal', having 'normal' hours, and good pay!!! Steve had decided that he would like a career in public health as the hours and money were fantastic. As soon as he had finished exams Steve started job hunting, and applied for a job in Berwick at Casey Allied Health. After applying he found out that they were actually NOT the hospital, they were next door to the hospital and PRIVATE! But, with no other jobs advertised, we had no other option but to take the job because his Austudy payments dropped out as soon as he got his marks (even though no student could work for another month because registration isn't processed till then) and the people where he had applied were willing to pay him a reduced rate to 'observe' in the clinics until he was registered (another moment where God's provision came through!).
The hours at his new job were intense. We had been looking forward to having weekends as a family for the first time... but he had to work Saturdays fortnightly. We had been looking forward to him being home more... but the hours were long and late. And the money was better than we had been on, but only enough to just make ends meet. We stuck with it for a year, but towards the end of last year we really felt that enough was enough - we needed better hours and more money. Steve applied for a job in Warragul in public health. We both had such a good feeling about it, I prayed and prayed and prayed and had such a peace about it, I was SURE the job was his! But... just after Christmas we received the news that it had gone to a more experienced podiatrist. 1 month later a  12 month podiatrist position came up at Frankston Hospital, and suddenly it all made sense - aaaaahhh THAT'S what God was up to - He had a job in Frankston prepared for us!! Steve applied... but didn't even get an interview because there were more experienced candidates.
Within 2 weeks of not getting an interview, Steve's boss spoke to him about the possibility of purchasing one of their practices in Carrum Downs. It seemed a very exciting possibility, so we decided to ask for further information. However, that door shut suddenly in our face when we found out that another work colleague had pretty much finished negotiating a deal for Carrum Downs and 2 other practices at other locations. By now I had had enough of constant disappointments and was resigned to having another year of long hours.
At this point another (full-time, permanent) job was advertised at Frankston Hospital, and this time instead of just applying for it, Steve decided to ask what experience they were looking for. This time the door to public health was completely shut for good in our face  - the only job you can get in public health now (without prior experience in public health) is a grade 1 position - which are low pay and rare!
It seemed as though every possible door to a better life for us was shut now, and our future work stability was not looking solid. It felt like 4 years of sacrifices while Steve was at uni had led to... nothing?! Ouch!!!
Just when it felt like we had no options, a door reopened. Steve received a call from his work colleague to let us know that he no longer wished to buy the Carrum Downs practice as he felt managing 3 practices was going to require a bigger time commitment than he could spare. We began enquiries and negotiations, and managed to settle on a price we could afford. Incredibly, a few weeks ago our loan was approved on the basis that the business is running successfully (because with no home and barely a cent to our name we could never have borrowed that much ourselves!!). It hasn't been a perfectly smooth road - but every obstacle between us and the opportunity to buy this business has been overcome (at times with tears and prayer and support from others).
Friday 1st June Steve becomes the official new owner and manager of Carrum Downs Podiatry (WOOT WOOT!!!!!). We have another journey ahead of us building the business up to full-time hours, and I am sure it cannot all be easy, but given the incredible provision and faithfulness of God towards us, I know that I can trust Him to make a way through the darkest night. It still blows my mind every time I think about the fact that after LESS THAN 18 months working as a podiatrist, Steve has been able to purchase a healthy established business with existing clients - this is NO ORDINARY scenario for a recent graduate!!!!
God has not answered my prayers in the way I expected - He did not simply hand me my desires, we were not immediately given wings - instead we were first led into a dark and cramped place where it seemed our dreams could not come to fruition... and in that dark and cramped place came the opportunity we so desperately needed. Got to love the weird and wacky and backwards way God works!!!

Chloe "Blooming"

Wrote this letter for Chloe because although she will not understand most of this, and even when she does, she will have to learn it all herself probably (if she's like her mother anyway)... it was an opportunity for me to try at least to express what was on my heart for her as she starts school...

CHLOE - origin, Greek. Meaning "Blooming, Verdant."


To my beautiful daughter, Chloe Renee,



As you start school I want to write you a letter for you to hold onto for the next 13 years. Most of it you will not understand yet, but in time you will.


At the moment you are our little blossom – full of potential and life and innocent, sweet beauty. Over the next 13 years that potential will unfold and you will begin to bloom. And I already know that you will be incredible, beautiful and strong.


Always work hard at school and all other areas of your life so that you can develop the potential within you.


Never ever give up on yourself, no matter what.


Never forget that you have family who love you unconditionally.


Dream big, and work hard to bring those dreams to life.


Sometimes others, including your ‘friends’, will say stuff that is not true out of insecurity, jealousy or to try to make themselves seem superior by making another appear inferior. Don’t take it onboard, don’t accept it. Only accept criticism from those who love you and want to see you bloom in your full potential. Don’t flee from correction, a little pruning ensures you will grow straight and tall and strong.


Don’t be frightened or ashamed of your ‘thorns’. They can never diminish the beauty of a flower in full bloom.


A single flower in bloom carries incredible beauty; a field of flowers in bloom also displays incredible beauty. Don’t be afraid to stand alone when your convictions, beliefs and values differ from those around you. Equally, don’t allow yourself to feel inferior to others or lost in the crowd – your contribution is always valuable.


Be careful of who and what you allow into your life lest you allow weeds in to choke the life and potential from within you.


Chloe Renee, you are beautiful and you are highly favoured. We pray that you will grow in wisdom, in confidence, and in favour with God; that you will always know you are loved and that you will face each day with dignity and integrity.


We are always here for you, we will always love you,


Mum and Dad.

The Prenatal Journey of Chloe Renee Devenish

With Chloe's 5th Birthday coming up in just "6 sleeps", I've been marvelling at how fast time has flown, and I realised that although I've never been shy about telling people bits about my pregnancy and birth, I have never taken the time to write out my version of it all for Chloe to read one day... (no... "Choe's" letter about her birth was NOT written by me, it was Steve!!!). So here goes....

Chloe was a very very very wanted baby. For months and months I had been trying to fall pregnant with no success, been through the tears as each cycle the test was negative, and eventually after having tests run which revealed my hormones were crazy... I was told I would need to start fertility treatments as my cycles were not normal (I was told I had PCOS). So I was given the prescription, and waited for my period so I could start the treatment. About a week after my period was due (well... roughly... I could go anything from 4 to 8 weeks between periods!) I found out my brother's wife was due with their 2nd little baby, and I realised... haha if I had fallen pregnant we would be due the EXACT same day!! And then it's hard to explain but I just KNEW that I was pregnant. So I went back to the gynaecologist and said I hadn't had my period yet and suspected I was pregnant (and therefore it'd be dangerous to take the meds) and he ordered a blood test to play it safe. Blood test results came back and YAY there was a baby!!!!! There is no way I could possibly put into words the joy we both felt!

One night about 6-7 weeks into the pregnancy I felt this strong sense that something wasn't right. I wasn't in pain exactly, but I just felt uncomfortable and "stretched" and felt this urgent sense of something not being right. We drove to emergency, waited around for a few hours in which they did another pregnancy test to be sure, told me it's probably normal but to go and see my gynaecologist to organise a scan just in case. A couple of days later Linda and Azz came up to stay with us for the week - Steve had to work still but we were about to head into the city for the day when I started bleeding heavily. I was sure immediately that I must be miscarrying, called Steve to ask him to come home and take me to hospital, and told Linda and Azz that I wasn't coming to the city with them. They insisted on taking me to the hospital themselves, and there I went through the rigmarole of not being allowed food or fluids, sitting around waiting for hours, having to change pads constantly as the bleeding was ridiculous, and having a doctor with tremors unsuccessfully attempt to insert an IV (rolls eyes). Eventually they had a scan lined up for me and in we went. I've never seen anything like what we saw that day. My uterus looked like a war zone with dark patches of blood taking up most of the space - but somehow, against all odds, tucked up in the corner away from the danger, was this teeny tiny little embryo!!! And it even moved!! (Although devastatingly I missed that!). The staff sent me home to rest and I was to see the specialist during the week to organise another scan to ascertain what might be happening.
A week or so later I caught the bus from Ryde into Bondi Junction for my scan (2hr trip involving 2 buses). The scan was uncomfortable, and typically the sonographer refused to tell me anything. However, for the first time I saw my baby's heart beating, and I saw my baby doing some completely uncoordinated moving and the rush of WOWness was incredible and omg I fell in love on the spot! On the way home, about 20min from home, I realised to my horror that I had suddenly started bleeding again (not ideal when you're on a bus with no pads!!!). I had no choice but to hope it didn't soak through too quickly, (fortunately it didn't while on the bus), but on the 5min walk home I ended up soaked in blood and in a lot of pain with cramping. I went to the bathroom to clean up and during this time out came a big clump and sobbing I wrapped it up in tissues and called Steve to let him know we had lost our baby this time. He came straight home and took me to emergency. While in emergency the doctor took my baby to examine, and came back to ask me whether that blood clot was all I had. Oh the relief that that massive thing was a blood clot!! (I didn't know till that moment you could get blood clots that size lol). Again I was sent home to rest and follow up with the gyno.
The gyno was not 100% sure about why the bleeding was occurring but suspected that a major blood vessel had possibly been ruptured during implantation, and that this bleeding was likely to continue until around the 20 week mark. He said it was my decision to make, but that the travel involved in my uni studies was highly likely to lead to miscarriage and I really should be on bed rest until 20 weeks. I picked bed rest!!!
There were 2 more major bleeds in the following weeks, 1 very embarrassingly being at a major shopping centre, and so heavy that my clothes were soaked within 30seconds of it starting. However, I made it to the 20 week mark and the bleeding stopped and other than low iron and a GREY complexion due to having lost too much blood (see photo) I started to experience a "normal" pregnancy, complete with bizarre cravings (I was caught licking a wooden chair to see if it tasted as good as it smelled) and big aversions (I couldn't look at a whole lettuce).

The rest of the pregnancy proceeded with no dramas, and we had so much fun organising baby clothes and furniture, going to the birth and parenting classes etc. At 18 weeks we found out our baby was a little girl and we loved being able to refer to her by her real name from that point on - after thinking we had lost her so many times it was amazing to be able to give her a name and know everything was ok!!!

Somewhere around the 34-35 week mark I had some extremely painful contractions out of the blue that were severe enough that I couldn't walk or talk for a few minutes. However they stopped, and the midwife said they were probably just braxton hicks and a good sign, so we thought nothing more of it.

At 36 weeks (14th Oct) Steve and I went along to his work mate's BBQ on a Sat night. I knew no-one there and had that awkward experience of trying to make conversation with complete strangers (not a favourite past time for me). Just as they started cooking the meat I had this sudden feeling that I was leaking - thinking maybe I had lost bladder control as I had heard rumours that that can happen if you are lazy like me and don't bother with your exercises I rushed to the toilet. However, I kept leaking and leaking and realised omg my waters have broken!!!! I put my head out the door and called Steve until finally someone heard me and sent him over. We called the hospital absolutely lost as to what we were supposed to do, and they told us to come in immediately. So... I had to borrow a towel and waddle out of there holding it between my legs (at least I was wearing a skirt I guess lol).

At the hospital they monitored me etc, but I only had very mild contractions which were lessening so labour was not happening. On top of that Chloe wasn't even engaged (cheeky girl!!) which meant a high risk of prolapsed cord (life threatening for our bub) until she engaged. The hospital had a policy based on the most recent research that suggested that women whose waters had broken could be left to hopefully go into natural labour for up to 4 days before the risk of infection increases... so I spent 2 days lying around in hospital waiting (and nothing) at which Chloe decided it was time to engage... and then 2 days of nothing at home!!! (However it gave us time to organise a carseat!!). And the whole 4 days I was leaking water!!!!

18th October found us on our way to hospital for induction - me with a teeny shrunken belly due to having very little water left, and a lot of paranoia about having a seat belt over a now non-insulated belly! But we got there safely and sat in the waiting room watching all the booked in c-sections go in, followed by another induction etc etc. We had to get there at 7 and by 9:30 we were over it and were given permission to head off for morning tea. During this time I was feeling rather unwell, which I put down to a mixture of nerves and the excessively hot thai green curry from the night before (Steve put ALL the paste in not the standard couple of tbsns lol). But then I started to have cramping that was regular with breaks... and realised... ahhhhh.... labour?

We headed back to the waiting room and Steve informed reception. The pain increased very quickly, and was so predictable that Steve thought he would entertain the others in the waiting room by doing a 5-4-3-2-1 count down to each contraction... I didn't find it so funny!!! The contractions meant more water leakage so I was alternating between leaning on Steve's knees and running to the toilet. The pain started to increase more, and was in my back and no matter what position I was in I could not find relief from the pain. It was quite horrible because I was in so much pain, but surrounded by people waiting for inductions etc so felt I had to keep it together. Steve kept going back to the desk but no-one came and checked on me or anything. Steve managed to get a heat pack for me which I used to try to alleviate the back pain - it helped a little but not enough. Eventually somewhere between 12 and 1, after other patients started to become concerned, a midwife tracked down a contraction reader machine and hooked me up to it. After I had been on it for a bit, they came back and checked the readings and decided they better get me a room because I really was legitimately in labour! (I could've flippin told them!!).

I immediately set myself up on the toilet because I just wanted to sit down and focus without worrying about my waters leaking everywhere! The pain was fast becoming excrutiating, and I was struggling to cope as I was not getting much of a break between contractions. The nurse organised the gas for me which I welcomed gratefully... only to hand back after a few goes as now I was not only in pain but I felt like I was going to vomit and I was dizzy!!! The nausea really took the edge off my focus as I was now trying to deal with back pain, front pain and trying not to vomit. A new midwife came in and shifted me to the bed. The next 3-4 hours passed in an intense cycle of 3 minute contraction followed by 1 minute break. I could not find a way of getting comfortable because if I found a position that helped with the back pain the front would be worse and vice versa. Steve was not able to leave my side for even a moment as I NEEDED his hands and support for every second. I will NEVER forget the awful feeling of dread as 3min of pain would end, and within 20 seconds I knew the next wave was only moments away. The midwives marvelled at my contraction readings as I was having "double contractions" due to the posterior position of my bub - 1min of maximum strength, 1min of slightly reduced, 1min of maximum strength and 1 min of rest. Somewhere around 3 I felt the urge to push with each contraction, to the point where I simply could not help it, I HAD to push. The midwife realised and checked to see if I was fully dilated - nope, only 4cm apparently so please don't push!! Now I was really struggling as all my energy went into NOT pushing leaving me with no reserves to deal with the pain. Desperate I asked for an epidural. Time passed and I asked where my epidural was - "Oh, you definitely want one, I'll go order it". Midwife returned and told me 20min. It was then 3:10, so I thought beauty, I only have to get to 3:30. At 4:10 I really cracked it and told the nurse that she said 20 min and it was now AN HOUR!!!! Not too long after the anaesthetist came and gave his long speech about the risks (meantime I'm thinking SHUT UP AND GET THE FLIPPIN THING IN THERE!!!) and finally they hooked me up.

I was finally able to think, Steve was finally allowed a lunch break... but the pain was still there but alternating sides. The midwife tried angling me from side to side for a time, but still no relief, the pain was still there. She had to organise for the anaesthetist to come back... she wasn't in the room when he came so he felt comfortable in telling me that I was obviously already dilated when given the epidural and the midwife mustn't have checked properly (in hindsight I realised that I had been on the bed for several hours without a visit to the loo, probably having a full bladder had been the problem coz baby can't descend!).

So midwife came back and organised for a doctor to come in (who brought a student in to observe). As I began to push Chloe's heart started dropping and the doctor became concerned that (being a first time mum) a long delivery could be dangerous and so was organising to have the suction there just in case... that was all the encouragement I needed, 4 contractions and I had pushed that baby out - I felt NOTHING (ahhhhh the epidural!!!)... until the next day (bad tear AND it was a dry birth due to my waters having been leaking for 4 days prior so lots of grazing).

They pulled my lil bub up onto my hip (she promptly wee'd on me) and then stuck her in my arms. Chloe did not cry or move, just gazed up at me silently with her HUGE eyes and I gazed back at her and I must say that I became an instant believer in love at first sight. The nurse gave her chest a little rub to remind her that she should probably consider taking her first breathe, and without any fuss she obliged. SOOOO her to come quietly into the world without any fuss, just taking it all in and absorbing!!! And THAT is all I remember, anything after that is a blur because all my focus and attention was on her! But I can give you some stats - she was 2.73kg, 46cm and the sweetest lil thing I'd ever seen!

I am going to raise my children to be "UnAustralian"

Nope - no typo there, in all seriousness, I am going to raise my children to be "UnAustralian".

I don't want my children to become what many Australians are - racist, unempathetic and spoiled.

We live in a blessed country, but although there are cultural differences, financial differences, "colour differences" and huge differences in opportunities between Australia and other countries - we are made of the same flesh and blood and bones as every other human on this planet. It isn't like there is an "Australian" DNA and a "Japanese" DNA - we are all mixed up all over the world. And I do not want my children to develop the mindset of "I am Australian and they are not so I have superior rights".

The "group membership" thing is a widespread mentality that all humans share - which does usually lead to group rivalry and prejudice etc. But to the best of my ability I want to bring my children up differently.

My children live in Australia and were born in Australia and have the right to access opportunities in Australia. But I will never label them "Australian" because they are so much more - they are part of the human race. My children technically have white skin, but I will never label them "white" because that would be just as weird as if I taught them to categorise their group membership by "blue eyed" - it's just what they look like, not who they are. I will teach my kids that although they were fortunate to be born here, that there is plenty to share, and that giving others who were not fortunate to be born here the same opportunities is not a threat but actually a positive sign that we live in a good country. I will teach them that giving to the less fortunate in ALL parts of the world is a good thing because they are human just like us - why should we "only" look after Australians... why should a place of birth limit our generosity and our compassion for others.

I will never teach my childrent to discriminate against others on any basis - that even as Christians we do not need to fear that which is foreign to our beliefs - Jesus hung out with the SAMARITANS, the LEPERS - with those who were NOT accepted. So although I never plan on wearing a durqua, or denying my own faith etc - I do not need to discriminate against those who are different to me because we may be members of "subgroups" but ultimately - we are all humans.

I hope my children become as "UnAustralian" as I am - or more so!!! Because frankly, the general attitude of most Australians towards other nationalities disgusts me and if that is what the Australian identity is built on... count me out!!!

trafficking

We all remember the tragedy and horror of Madeleine McCann. A tiny beautiful 4 year old girl taken away from her parents and all she knew... to goodness knows what!
Many of us have also seen the movie "Taken", and been horrified by the whole concept.
I look at my little 4 year old, and cannot imagine her distress if she were separated from me, let alone her distress if she was subjected to rape after rape after rape...

And yet many of us are somehow unaware of the fact that Anywhere from 700,000 and 4 million women and children are trafficked for the purpose of sex and sexual exploitation every YEAR!!!! These children can be as young as THREE!!!! It isn't some hidden, underground, small problem - it is a multi-billion dollar industry rated as the third most profitable business for organised crime!
Trafficked victims are NOT there by choice, and they cannot just walk out and leave.
We are not immune to human trafficking here in Australia either - there have been 2 confirmed cases of minors (12 year olds) from Thailand being brought into Australia and forced to work in brothels - no prosecution of the traffickers ever occurred?! How wide spread the trafficking of minors is here is unknown, and how widespread the trafficking of other older women here is, is again unknown.
It really disturbs me that this is happening in the world without much of an outcry of indignation at all. We are silent. How is it that some of the number one tourist destinations for Australians can get away with doing so little about this problem?!! It isn't hard for tourists (yes - tourists, it is the western world that has the money) to find these child brothels - so it isn't hard for the authorities to find them either.

There has been a huge reaction this week to the discovery that cows were being cruelly abused before killed in abattoires in Indonesia... HUGE reaction... and I agree, NO living creature should be put through pain and suffering for the sake of someone else's pleasure... but why are Australians prepared to react with outrage over an hour of suffering for a cow, but not prepared to react with outrage over day after day after day after day after year after year of the suffering of women and children in brothels in south east asia and other countries????? We are way too complacent.

It doesn't help either that the media are silent?! I don't understand why?????? Unless it is the fact that it is just too disturbing a story to run?? Because where the suffering of the cows is distressing, I have to say even just the drawn pictures I have seen from children who are in therapy for what they've been through were enough to make my blood turn cold and feel nauseaus.

Anyway, I'VE had enough!!!!! I have been slowly and steadily working my way through a psychology degree, hoping to specialise in trauma, so that maybe I can in time be of some use to the various programs worldwide that are helping rehabilitate some of the rescued women and children. But it isn't enough to me to end up just treating the after effects!! So... I've decided to write to Kevin Rudd (seeming as he's our foreign minister) to find out what we as Australians can do to put pressure on our government to put pressure on some of these countries to do more to stop that trade. And if I hear back from him, I will do whatever it is suggested, even if it means doorknocking every home in Australia for a petition - I will make sure it is done because this is just so wrong, and our Aussie tourist dollars are so vital to these countries - surely we have a pretty strong influence!!!

To finish off I want to add some ways YOU can help. In case you don't want to be complacent either! And when you look through the ideas, remember that one of the key tricks of complacency is to think, I'll do this sometime... but never actually remember to get around to it!!!!

The BODY SHOP are getting involved in the fight WOOT WOOT... they have a petition and there is also a product that when bought, profits go towards supporting trafficking victims... here's their page about it all...
http://www.thebodyshop.com/_en/_ww/values-campaigns/trafficking.aspx

Then there is connecting hands - an organisation who's pure focus is on supporting victims of sex trafficking in Cambodia... there are plenty of ways you can get involved there, here's there website...
http://www.connectinghands.com.au/main/page_home.html

When I hear back from our foreign minister, if there is a way people can be involved... I will definitely let you all know!!!

Also - do some research!!! The best thing you can do is to educate yourself and others around you about what is happening!!

Finally, if you live in the area, in a few months I will be holding a fundraiser where all profits raised will go to connecting hands (and connecting hands is volunteer run, so all profits go straight overseas!)

feminism

Inspired by my uni readings about sexism recently, I’ve been reading a lot more of the ‘feminist’ work out there to see what the ‘modern’ take on it all is. Some of what is happening out there is amazing, I found it truly inspiring to realise that some of my deepest hates (such as the way that “sex sells” is considered as reasonable justification for the constant slutty images of women in advertising, despite the fact that it is actually selling the concept that to be something as a woman you have to be sexually promiscuous and in some ways a pawn/porn in the hands of men) are being fought by feminists – especially as the impression I’d always got from the media was that feminists were BEHIND the idea!!! There are so many amazing things that feminists are doing that I couldn’t list them all, but I have to say that they are truly inspiring!!!
However, some of what I have read also... well ANNOYED me lol. I do strongly believe that no person should be FORCED to fit a stereotype. If someone deviates from the ‘norm’ – that should be ok!!! Not everyone is going to be a carbon copy of our expectations!! However, I found some of the things I read about ‘femininity’ off-putting. There was some stuff out there that seemed to be suggesting that in order for feminism to succeed, women shouldn’t wear pink, shouldn’t be into ‘girly’ things, shouldn’t love fairytales etc etc... because (if I understood the article I read correctly) by conforming to that image we conform to the concept that we are the ‘weak’ sex (ok, so major paraphrasing here coz I’m too lazy to reread and get my wording correct).

They might very well be right, I’ve not read studies on it, or done any research into it. But if that’s the case, I’m so disappointed, because I feel like in the end, we lose again – we have to sell ourselves out and conform to a different concept of women in order to succeed.

I LOVE being a woman. I LOVE dressing up, getting my hair done, watching girly princess movies, LOVE tutus and sparkles and glitter and pink and flowers and pretty smells... I’ve outgrown most of those myself, but I love watching my girls’ faces light up when they get their hands on those things and I LOVE seeing them looking so eatable!! I LOVE bubble baths, and pampering myself, and nail polish, and gossip, and chatting for hours with friends. I LOVE being feminine!!! I love the concept of being romanced and seduced and cared for... I find for myself (and I suspect for many other women), that my femininity is tied up to my sexuality... if you took away my right to be feminine and feel truly beautiful.... well sexuality loses its appeal. I feel that femininity actually expresses something that is a part of me – as a wife and a mother I do consider one of my roles in life is that of a nurturer. Not my only role, but one of my favourites, and the one that I am most proud of. I feel that soft colours don’t express a weakness – it simply expresses something that I am proud of!!

The idea that to become a successful woman I would have to give up those things... well it just doesn’t appeal to me. I don’t consider those things as “weak”. I can’t help feeling that by allowing “sexism” to define them as weak... is letting it win!! I would much rather see a definition/perception change take place!!

Why can’t I love all those things, be all those things.... and still be successful??? If people out there really do consider all of those things as “weak”, then why can’t my success, my girls’ success, and the success of many other women out there prove them wrong??? I don’t want to lose my femininity to be successful. I want to be a successful feminine woman!!! I truly believe you can wear pink and still be as successful in life as a man!! I want my girls to feel confident in their right to express their femininity and not be condescended to or looked down upon because of it!!!!!!!

I truly believe my girls can be as girly as they want without it discrediting their intelligence, their strength, their abilities, their potential. I believe it is their right! Obviously if they express a dislike for any of those girly things, I would never force it on them either!!!!!! I just believe that it is their right to choose, and that their choice should not be permitted to limit their options in life in any area.

Anyway... I just find this blog space is a handy spot for trying to get my own head around my musings... and these were today’s!

sexism

Up until yesterday I would have said that I have never really been discriminated against, or exposed to sexism. Sexual harrassment - yes, stupid sexist jokes that were designed to sound sexist to annoy me - yes, but sexism itself... no!

My husband and I are equals in our relationship - different, but equal. When he is home he helps me with housework, and there are no tasks that he refuses to do (although we do tend to delegate tasks according to our strengths which do have a tendency towards traditional gender roles... anything fiddly such as handyman stuff and chopping vegetables nicely he does because I have no fine motor skills, anything involving bad smells such as bins, dirty nappies and vomiting kids he does because he has a strong stomach, and he does the lawns because he is physically stronger than me). I have never been denied opportunities based on my gender in my education or in my workplace.

But... yesterday when reading my uni readings on sexism I suddenly realised that I HAVE been exposed to sexism in my life, but it was so subtle that I had never noticed it!!!

One of the aspects of sexism that often goes unnoticed is... stereotyping.

Now I'm not going so far to say it is discrimination to have a "general" stereotype of males and females... the reality is that men do have higher levels of testosterone, women have higher levels of oestrogen... and hormones do effect behaviour! But... when we frown upon behaviour that does NOT fit into our stereotype of a man or a woman, that is the point where it does cross into sexism!

Women tend to be viewed as emotional, empathetic, warm, caring and relational. All good qualities to have, and there is nothing wrong with being all those things! But... what about women that do not tick all those boxes???

I have always been very firm in my beliefs and opinions - not stupidly, I have always had a logic and thought process behind them... yet I have always found that when I express them with such conviction that the vast majority of people do not react well and are intimidated by this. I have been told that I should express them differently or even keep them to myself, and felt a very strong sense of that being a bad quality that I have. The thing is that yesterday I realised that I have seen this same quality in plenty of guys out there, but in them it is considered acceptable, and I suspect that it all comes down to stereotypes. Guys are seen to be 'leaders' and are not expected to show the same delicacy as women to people's feelings... they are permitted by our society to be relatively blunt and argue their beliefs... whereas for women it is not looked as favourably upon. Not intentionally - but a prejudice there exists!

Another thing I have always felt strange about myself is that where most women hear some trouble that another person is going through and have that want to be there for them, and be caring and compassionate and hug them... and well stuff along those lines... I don't feel that way at all!!! It isn't that I don't care, it is just that I am able to stay objective and not get caught up in someone else's pain, and focus more on what changes could be made to minimise the impact of that situation... another typical 'male' stereotype trait.

Anyway, I found it a fascinating concept!!! I have always been aware that although I still have plenty in common with other women, that I have never felt completely the same, I think slightly differently, I speak more directly than many other women... I'm not any less of a woman than other women, I just am not 'stereotypically' conformed to the woman concept! And as a result I have had subtle pressure put on me to conform a bit more - which I can't because who I am is so deeply ingrained that I cannot conform! And those very aspects of me that can upset some people, are the very aspects that will help me to excel in my career in time!!!

This is not just a rant about "female" sexism, because I have seen the same things happen to males - if a guy is too talkative, too sensitive etc etc he is automatically labelled 'gay' because he doesn't fit the 'typical male stereotype'. Sexual orientation and stereotypicalness are not the same thing!

A quote from my text book that isn't quite 100% related, but too good to exclude...

"People may need to stigmatise groups that have different world views from their own, because if they did not degrade and discredit outgroups in this way then the frail sense of certainty in, and controllability over, life that they gain from their own world view would be shattered."