Showing posts with label Stranger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stranger. Show all posts

Friday, July 23, 2021

COVID Tensions Prejudice and Tisha B'Av



"Where is the Aussie spirit?" Aren't we all Aussies?! the man with the long orange beard asked a group of police officers. I was very moved when I watched this highly charged exchange that began over allegations about masks. It got me thinking about maintaining solidarity in general, and especially during COVID. 

I write from two perspectives: as the National Director of Together For Humanity, my work is focused on fostering interfaith and intercultural understanding. I also write as a Jewish person sharing my experiences with you, dear reader, as another way of fostering understanding.

The bearded man at the beginning of this article is Rami Ykmour, an Australian of Lebanese heritage and co-founder of popular restaurant chain Rashays. On the afternoon of 8 July 2021, police entered his Chester Hill office over allegations that some of his staff were breaching face mask orders.  

After some disagreement about how to proceed, the situation escalated. Rami made his appeal to the police, whose patience with him was quickly wearing thin. In the days since the incident, Rami has expressed regret for how things unfolded and support for the police for doing their jobs. He rightly observed that many people are very stressed and stretched at this time.

The exchange happened at a crucial moment during the intensifying current Sydney lockdown. There have been anguished assertions of unequal and harsh treatment of Western Sydney residents from non-English speaking backgrounds, compared with residents in other parts of Sydney. One Western Sydney man from an Arab background told me he was reluctant to leave his home to go to the shops for food he needed because he just was not up for “dealing with all this.” No doubt there are reasons for specific police decisions relating to facts about the virus – rather than ethnicity – that I do not fully understand, so I don’t feel equipped to comment on the actions of the police.

However, what is happening in Sydney now brings to mind long-standing experiences of prejudice experienced by many people from migrant backgrounds, and this worries me greatly.

Rami’s question about us all being Aussies reminds me of the plea of the Jewish character Shylock in the Merchant of Venice: “Doesn’t a Jew… warm up in summer and cool off in winter just like a Christian? If you prick us, don’t we bleed?”

We discussed this among the Together For Humanity team. One of our teachers, Kate Xavier, herself a South-Western Sydney resident of Croatian Catholic heritage shared the following sentiment: “the danger for us living out West is real. Not only a sense that we don’t belong or are inferior, but a sense of feeling that any minute we fall into that trap of believing the media narrative and forgetting the humanity of our neighbours and ourselves.”

As a Jewish person, I feel called to counter any form of prejudice. It is for this reason that I feel so strongly about everyone feeling that they belong. The most repeated commandment in the Hebrew Bible concerns the treatment of the “stranger”– the minority member – the less powerful, less established “stranger.” Jews are called to remember that the Jewish people were once “strangers” in Egypt.

I write these lines on the saddest day of the Jewish calendar, Tisha B’Av. This year, I joined other members of my community to recite Lamentations in the traditional mournful tune via Zoom under lockdown. On this day we mourn destruction, division and loss of dignity. One legend of this day involves a man, Bar Kamtza, who - like Rami - pleaded for dignity. Solidarity means that every Australian, regardless of background, never needs to question if they are as Aussie as anyone else. 


Tuesday, April 27, 2021

Linguistic Diversity Cohesion and Power

The 3 year old girl pointed at the fire truck. “Fie-er lesher, Fie-er lesher” she shouted excitedly in yiddish. 


The little girl was my mother. She had recently arrived in San Francisco from Shanghai, where she was born to yiddish speaking parents who narrowly escaped the Nazis in World War 2.  


“She should not speak in yiddish! She must speak English” her parents were told angrily!


It is wrong to prevent migrants from speaking their native languages. I believe this, despite my view that migrants must learn the language of their new country (if they can, some people find it quite difficult). It is hard for people to be united or even really get along if they can’t talk to each other. In fact, the first time the Torah mentions linguistic diversity is in the story of the Tower of Babel. We are told that people speaking one language makes their society strong, but if they speak different languages it will weaken them (1). However, being able to communicate in the language of one’s new country can be achieved without restraining migrants from speaking their native languages. 


This approach is not without risks. The easiest way to learn a language is to practice it and be immersed in it. There are parts of Australia that have high concentrations of people who speak languages other than English. In these areas, migrants can get by without properly learning the language of the land. Research has shown that being surrounded by signs in foreign languages caused significant discomfort to older Anglo-saxon residents in one of these areas (2). These risks should be addressed and mitigated rather than going to the extreme and trying to stamp out other languages from our shared spaces. 


Preserving native languages is important for two reasons:  one is self-expression and the other is power. 


Educator Ronit Baras introduced me to the idea of “language of the heart”. As I understand it, the language we speak as children enables us to express ourselves most effectively, especially when trying to articulate what is in our hearts. Languages learned later operate on a more technical level. We can express what we think effectively in a second language, but it can be hard to express how we feel. Assuming that this is true for many migrants, it would be a terrible imposition to restrict them from using their own language most of the time. 


The second argument relates to power. Because our ability to express our feelings is impeded when we are forced to use a second language, we are therefore not as powerful in negotiating everyday situations when speaking that language. I noticed that intuitively as a teenager when dealing with a particularly harsh teacher (who died from COVID last year). This teacher had a sharp tongue and could pack a powerful verbal punch in his native Yiddish, which was my first language. To change the power dynamic between us, I always addressed him in English rather than in Yiddish. It really threw him. The best he could do when I told him I thought I was  a nice guy was to tell me in a thick accent “you not, nice guy, you nice garbage”. That is a bit harsh, but nothing compared to what he could deliver in Yiddish! 

 

The relationship between power and language can explain a peculiar phrase in the story of Esther. The context is a king wishing to subdue women under the control of men. The royal edict stated that every man will be a ruler in his home, and [in the case where husband and wife speak different languages, the husband and therefore his wife] will speak in the language of his [the husband’s] nation (3). There we have it, suppression of linguistic diversity to serve male domination, with the loss of the right to speak one’s native language is clearly linked to a loss of power.  


The Torah urges us not to mistreat the stranger (4). Allowing them to speak in their native language is one way to adhere to this commandment. 


Notes

  1. Genesis 11:6-9

  2. Wise, A, (2004) Contact Zones: Experiences of cultural diversity and rapid neighbourhood change among Anglo-Celtic and long term elderly residents in Ashfield. Centre for Research on Social Inclusion, Macquarie University

  3. Esther 1:22

  4. Leviticus 19:33