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May. 7th, 2005 08:30 am
Women In Black
Something fell from the sky over Sydney last Thursday night (the 5th at about 6.15 PM. I caught sight of it almost directly over the spire of the Town Hall and followed it through a rare gap in the Sydney skyline for about five seconds, until it burned out.
I was able to see it because I was standing on the Town Hall steps in a row of black-clad women, while two other members distributed leaflets on the sidewalk. We were standing, this month, in solidarity with the women of Aceh, in recognition of human rights abuses on that island and of the specific targeting of women by sexual violence. First Thursday of next month will be in solidarity with aboriginal women. This is what Women in Black does. Usually they have a large banner, but tonight we had to make do with the falling star, or space junk, or whatever it was.
I met Nani, a refugee from Aceh. She was training to become a teacher when events forced her to flee -- she said that although living in Australia presented problems and frustrations, she knew she was lucky to make it here. She is now an activist attempting to raise awareness of the situation on Aceh, while working in a factory and studying at TAFE. I also met Dr Hannah Safran, who teaches at the University of Haifa in Israel and is involved with Women in Black in the country where it first started, as a protest against the Palestinian occupation. She and her companion are in Australia for a couple of months, networking and studying. Sylvia Hale, Green MLC, was also present.
For the most part, we did simply stand there. On the leaflet it says "our silence is visible". We got plenty of looks, some studious avoidance, a few questions and were harangued by a street person. The lady I was standing next to whispered to me that during the actual invasion of Iraq, their presence as protestors was acknowledged with cheers and cars honking their horns. We stood for the appointed hour, then an impromptu party formed amongst those wishing to take Dr Safran to a cafe. Nani had to race to York Street to catch her bus. I caught a train back to Sutherland.
I hadn't previously heard of Women in Black. I attended the May vigil because of the email Lee Rhiannon sent round the Greens list (she was apparently going to come but Parliament sat late), because I was curious and, I confess, because I dig the name. It was an odd experience and hard to quantify. Did we mourn? Did we make a stand? Did we make some kind of connection with what is an international movement? Without the banner, did people just think we were goths?
I think taking an hour out to think about these things was worthwhile at any rate. I won't be a regular attendee, but I'll probably go to the next vigil. After that, we'll see.
http://www.womeninblack.org
I was able to see it because I was standing on the Town Hall steps in a row of black-clad women, while two other members distributed leaflets on the sidewalk. We were standing, this month, in solidarity with the women of Aceh, in recognition of human rights abuses on that island and of the specific targeting of women by sexual violence. First Thursday of next month will be in solidarity with aboriginal women. This is what Women in Black does. Usually they have a large banner, but tonight we had to make do with the falling star, or space junk, or whatever it was.
I met Nani, a refugee from Aceh. She was training to become a teacher when events forced her to flee -- she said that although living in Australia presented problems and frustrations, she knew she was lucky to make it here. She is now an activist attempting to raise awareness of the situation on Aceh, while working in a factory and studying at TAFE. I also met Dr Hannah Safran, who teaches at the University of Haifa in Israel and is involved with Women in Black in the country where it first started, as a protest against the Palestinian occupation. She and her companion are in Australia for a couple of months, networking and studying. Sylvia Hale, Green MLC, was also present.
For the most part, we did simply stand there. On the leaflet it says "our silence is visible". We got plenty of looks, some studious avoidance, a few questions and were harangued by a street person. The lady I was standing next to whispered to me that during the actual invasion of Iraq, their presence as protestors was acknowledged with cheers and cars honking their horns. We stood for the appointed hour, then an impromptu party formed amongst those wishing to take Dr Safran to a cafe. Nani had to race to York Street to catch her bus. I caught a train back to Sutherland.
I hadn't previously heard of Women in Black. I attended the May vigil because of the email Lee Rhiannon sent round the Greens list (she was apparently going to come but Parliament sat late), because I was curious and, I confess, because I dig the name. It was an odd experience and hard to quantify. Did we mourn? Did we make a stand? Did we make some kind of connection with what is an international movement? Without the banner, did people just think we were goths?
I think taking an hour out to think about these things was worthwhile at any rate. I won't be a regular attendee, but I'll probably go to the next vigil. After that, we'll see.
http://www.womeninblack.org
