Golden craft
Independent news and stories connecting you to life in Australia and German-speaking Australians. Discover extraordinary books that will make a difference in your child's life.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
The Advertiser
an hour ago
- The Advertiser
The subtle, everyday hurting of LGBTQI Australians
Witnessing acts of casual homophobia usually involved Lea* turning away as a means of hiding from her own feelings. When initially navigating the LGBTQI world and figuring out her own sexuality, she worried about what would happen if she chose to come out. "When I was an anxious teenager still coming to terms with myself, I saw how people treated the only out lesbian at my all-girls school," she tells AAP. "The feelings I had there were fear of rejection, shame and all of that just built into me, and not wanting to come to terms with myself." Regardless of the forum, casual (or in Lea's terms 'acceptable') homophobia is the act of jokingly or subtly victimising LGBTQI people. Instead of directing slurs or physical violence, someone might say "I wish I was gay" or refer to another as "the gay best friend" or even buy someone a gift based on stereotypes of sexual orientation. About three in every hundred Australians identify as LGBTQI, approximately 40 per cent of whom hide their sexuality and/or gender in public spaces, according to the Australian Human Rights Commission. These days, Lea has reached the conclusion that casual homophobia isn't as much her issue as it is the fault of those who practice it. She regards them as immature and in need of a change in thinking. "I just get really disappointed in people who still think there's not the same legitimacy in queer relationships as there are in straight ones," she says. "I'm really disappointed when I have people in my life who still think that being a lesbian means I'm just thinking about tits all the time." LGBTQI individuals endure poorer mental health outcomes than straight people due to a lack of social acceptance, according to Aids Council of NSW co-ordinator Madhuraa Prakash. "LGBTQI people are six times more likely to be diagnosed with depression and two and a half more times more likely to be diagnosed or treated for a mental health condition in general," they say. "It's unfortunate because you want to be able to talk about your life without having to edit yourself. "It weighs on a person to have to do that in your day-to-day life and leads to some bad mental health outcomes." Academic and psychotherapist Pol McCann specialises in microaggression and says although it sometimes stems from ill-intention, it is primarily patronising and performative. At the same time casual homophobia isn't exclusively directed at LGBTQI people either. Mr McCann says he's also heard from straight men who don't align with "typical" feminine or masculine ideas who have been impacted. He spoke with two straight men who were emotional, artistic and bullied by their peers at school. "They were absolutely lovely, smart, engaged guys but you could just tell they still carried the weight of the pain," he says. In the course of his work within the school environment, Mr McCann has spent time with the perpetrators of discrimination too. Some boys would never appreciate the impact they've had on a person's life, as they regard what they've done to be no more than a joke, he says. "The boys who were doing it, were doing it casually and with no malice," he adds. "These guys actually seemed really nice as adults and I don't think they understood how controlling their behaviour was." With June marking Pride Month, LGBTQI advocates like Justin Koonin know raising these issues is important. As co-chair of the NSW LGBTIQ+ Advisory Body, he has been helping develop a strategy to better include minority voices in legislation. Ensuring schools, police, transport officers and health professionals know how to treat the LGBTQI community better is a key focus. "We see the impact of casual homophobia in terms of the reported experience of mental health and wellbeing, and of safety and self-harm in our communities" Dr Koonin says. "You can't control what's in people's heads and you, to some extent, can't control what people can say but you can try and make it clear to people what hurts and what doesn't. "A lot of our work will be on increasing the level of awareness and exposure to the impact casual homophobia has in our communities." Although LGBTQI people need to lobby against casual homophobia, the straight community also has to play its part, Mr McCann says. He considers Wallaby-turned-senator David Pocock a notable voice in the LGBTQI marriage equality debate after declaring he wouldn't tie the knot with his wife until LGBTQI people could. "Pocock is a football star, incredibly handsome, incredibly charming and when he puts that kind of statement out there... that's got a lot more weight than the gay community lobbying for rights," Mr McCann says. NSW, ACT, Victoria, South Australia and Tasmania have government LGBTQI advisory bodies but federal parliament doesn't. Although a health advisory has been established in Canberra, Dr Koonin says having a committee similar to NSW would benefit the community. *Lea is an anonymous name. Lifeline 13 11 14 Fullstop Australia 1800 385 578 Witnessing acts of casual homophobia usually involved Lea* turning away as a means of hiding from her own feelings. When initially navigating the LGBTQI world and figuring out her own sexuality, she worried about what would happen if she chose to come out. "When I was an anxious teenager still coming to terms with myself, I saw how people treated the only out lesbian at my all-girls school," she tells AAP. "The feelings I had there were fear of rejection, shame and all of that just built into me, and not wanting to come to terms with myself." Regardless of the forum, casual (or in Lea's terms 'acceptable') homophobia is the act of jokingly or subtly victimising LGBTQI people. Instead of directing slurs or physical violence, someone might say "I wish I was gay" or refer to another as "the gay best friend" or even buy someone a gift based on stereotypes of sexual orientation. About three in every hundred Australians identify as LGBTQI, approximately 40 per cent of whom hide their sexuality and/or gender in public spaces, according to the Australian Human Rights Commission. These days, Lea has reached the conclusion that casual homophobia isn't as much her issue as it is the fault of those who practice it. She regards them as immature and in need of a change in thinking. "I just get really disappointed in people who still think there's not the same legitimacy in queer relationships as there are in straight ones," she says. "I'm really disappointed when I have people in my life who still think that being a lesbian means I'm just thinking about tits all the time." LGBTQI individuals endure poorer mental health outcomes than straight people due to a lack of social acceptance, according to Aids Council of NSW co-ordinator Madhuraa Prakash. "LGBTQI people are six times more likely to be diagnosed with depression and two and a half more times more likely to be diagnosed or treated for a mental health condition in general," they say. "It's unfortunate because you want to be able to talk about your life without having to edit yourself. "It weighs on a person to have to do that in your day-to-day life and leads to some bad mental health outcomes." Academic and psychotherapist Pol McCann specialises in microaggression and says although it sometimes stems from ill-intention, it is primarily patronising and performative. At the same time casual homophobia isn't exclusively directed at LGBTQI people either. Mr McCann says he's also heard from straight men who don't align with "typical" feminine or masculine ideas who have been impacted. He spoke with two straight men who were emotional, artistic and bullied by their peers at school. "They were absolutely lovely, smart, engaged guys but you could just tell they still carried the weight of the pain," he says. In the course of his work within the school environment, Mr McCann has spent time with the perpetrators of discrimination too. Some boys would never appreciate the impact they've had on a person's life, as they regard what they've done to be no more than a joke, he says. "The boys who were doing it, were doing it casually and with no malice," he adds. "These guys actually seemed really nice as adults and I don't think they understood how controlling their behaviour was." With June marking Pride Month, LGBTQI advocates like Justin Koonin know raising these issues is important. As co-chair of the NSW LGBTIQ+ Advisory Body, he has been helping develop a strategy to better include minority voices in legislation. Ensuring schools, police, transport officers and health professionals know how to treat the LGBTQI community better is a key focus. "We see the impact of casual homophobia in terms of the reported experience of mental health and wellbeing, and of safety and self-harm in our communities" Dr Koonin says. "You can't control what's in people's heads and you, to some extent, can't control what people can say but you can try and make it clear to people what hurts and what doesn't. "A lot of our work will be on increasing the level of awareness and exposure to the impact casual homophobia has in our communities." Although LGBTQI people need to lobby against casual homophobia, the straight community also has to play its part, Mr McCann says. He considers Wallaby-turned-senator David Pocock a notable voice in the LGBTQI marriage equality debate after declaring he wouldn't tie the knot with his wife until LGBTQI people could. "Pocock is a football star, incredibly handsome, incredibly charming and when he puts that kind of statement out there... that's got a lot more weight than the gay community lobbying for rights," Mr McCann says. NSW, ACT, Victoria, South Australia and Tasmania have government LGBTQI advisory bodies but federal parliament doesn't. Although a health advisory has been established in Canberra, Dr Koonin says having a committee similar to NSW would benefit the community. *Lea is an anonymous name. Lifeline 13 11 14 Fullstop Australia 1800 385 578 Witnessing acts of casual homophobia usually involved Lea* turning away as a means of hiding from her own feelings. When initially navigating the LGBTQI world and figuring out her own sexuality, she worried about what would happen if she chose to come out. "When I was an anxious teenager still coming to terms with myself, I saw how people treated the only out lesbian at my all-girls school," she tells AAP. "The feelings I had there were fear of rejection, shame and all of that just built into me, and not wanting to come to terms with myself." Regardless of the forum, casual (or in Lea's terms 'acceptable') homophobia is the act of jokingly or subtly victimising LGBTQI people. Instead of directing slurs or physical violence, someone might say "I wish I was gay" or refer to another as "the gay best friend" or even buy someone a gift based on stereotypes of sexual orientation. About three in every hundred Australians identify as LGBTQI, approximately 40 per cent of whom hide their sexuality and/or gender in public spaces, according to the Australian Human Rights Commission. These days, Lea has reached the conclusion that casual homophobia isn't as much her issue as it is the fault of those who practice it. She regards them as immature and in need of a change in thinking. "I just get really disappointed in people who still think there's not the same legitimacy in queer relationships as there are in straight ones," she says. "I'm really disappointed when I have people in my life who still think that being a lesbian means I'm just thinking about tits all the time." LGBTQI individuals endure poorer mental health outcomes than straight people due to a lack of social acceptance, according to Aids Council of NSW co-ordinator Madhuraa Prakash. "LGBTQI people are six times more likely to be diagnosed with depression and two and a half more times more likely to be diagnosed or treated for a mental health condition in general," they say. "It's unfortunate because you want to be able to talk about your life without having to edit yourself. "It weighs on a person to have to do that in your day-to-day life and leads to some bad mental health outcomes." Academic and psychotherapist Pol McCann specialises in microaggression and says although it sometimes stems from ill-intention, it is primarily patronising and performative. At the same time casual homophobia isn't exclusively directed at LGBTQI people either. Mr McCann says he's also heard from straight men who don't align with "typical" feminine or masculine ideas who have been impacted. He spoke with two straight men who were emotional, artistic and bullied by their peers at school. "They were absolutely lovely, smart, engaged guys but you could just tell they still carried the weight of the pain," he says. In the course of his work within the school environment, Mr McCann has spent time with the perpetrators of discrimination too. Some boys would never appreciate the impact they've had on a person's life, as they regard what they've done to be no more than a joke, he says. "The boys who were doing it, were doing it casually and with no malice," he adds. "These guys actually seemed really nice as adults and I don't think they understood how controlling their behaviour was." With June marking Pride Month, LGBTQI advocates like Justin Koonin know raising these issues is important. As co-chair of the NSW LGBTIQ+ Advisory Body, he has been helping develop a strategy to better include minority voices in legislation. Ensuring schools, police, transport officers and health professionals know how to treat the LGBTQI community better is a key focus. "We see the impact of casual homophobia in terms of the reported experience of mental health and wellbeing, and of safety and self-harm in our communities" Dr Koonin says. "You can't control what's in people's heads and you, to some extent, can't control what people can say but you can try and make it clear to people what hurts and what doesn't. "A lot of our work will be on increasing the level of awareness and exposure to the impact casual homophobia has in our communities." Although LGBTQI people need to lobby against casual homophobia, the straight community also has to play its part, Mr McCann says. He considers Wallaby-turned-senator David Pocock a notable voice in the LGBTQI marriage equality debate after declaring he wouldn't tie the knot with his wife until LGBTQI people could. "Pocock is a football star, incredibly handsome, incredibly charming and when he puts that kind of statement out there... that's got a lot more weight than the gay community lobbying for rights," Mr McCann says. NSW, ACT, Victoria, South Australia and Tasmania have government LGBTQI advisory bodies but federal parliament doesn't. Although a health advisory has been established in Canberra, Dr Koonin says having a committee similar to NSW would benefit the community. *Lea is an anonymous name. Lifeline 13 11 14 Fullstop Australia 1800 385 578 Witnessing acts of casual homophobia usually involved Lea* turning away as a means of hiding from her own feelings. When initially navigating the LGBTQI world and figuring out her own sexuality, she worried about what would happen if she chose to come out. "When I was an anxious teenager still coming to terms with myself, I saw how people treated the only out lesbian at my all-girls school," she tells AAP. "The feelings I had there were fear of rejection, shame and all of that just built into me, and not wanting to come to terms with myself." Regardless of the forum, casual (or in Lea's terms 'acceptable') homophobia is the act of jokingly or subtly victimising LGBTQI people. Instead of directing slurs or physical violence, someone might say "I wish I was gay" or refer to another as "the gay best friend" or even buy someone a gift based on stereotypes of sexual orientation. About three in every hundred Australians identify as LGBTQI, approximately 40 per cent of whom hide their sexuality and/or gender in public spaces, according to the Australian Human Rights Commission. These days, Lea has reached the conclusion that casual homophobia isn't as much her issue as it is the fault of those who practice it. She regards them as immature and in need of a change in thinking. "I just get really disappointed in people who still think there's not the same legitimacy in queer relationships as there are in straight ones," she says. "I'm really disappointed when I have people in my life who still think that being a lesbian means I'm just thinking about tits all the time." LGBTQI individuals endure poorer mental health outcomes than straight people due to a lack of social acceptance, according to Aids Council of NSW co-ordinator Madhuraa Prakash. "LGBTQI people are six times more likely to be diagnosed with depression and two and a half more times more likely to be diagnosed or treated for a mental health condition in general," they say. "It's unfortunate because you want to be able to talk about your life without having to edit yourself. "It weighs on a person to have to do that in your day-to-day life and leads to some bad mental health outcomes." Academic and psychotherapist Pol McCann specialises in microaggression and says although it sometimes stems from ill-intention, it is primarily patronising and performative. At the same time casual homophobia isn't exclusively directed at LGBTQI people either. Mr McCann says he's also heard from straight men who don't align with "typical" feminine or masculine ideas who have been impacted. He spoke with two straight men who were emotional, artistic and bullied by their peers at school. "They were absolutely lovely, smart, engaged guys but you could just tell they still carried the weight of the pain," he says. In the course of his work within the school environment, Mr McCann has spent time with the perpetrators of discrimination too. Some boys would never appreciate the impact they've had on a person's life, as they regard what they've done to be no more than a joke, he says. "The boys who were doing it, were doing it casually and with no malice," he adds. "These guys actually seemed really nice as adults and I don't think they understood how controlling their behaviour was." With June marking Pride Month, LGBTQI advocates like Justin Koonin know raising these issues is important. As co-chair of the NSW LGBTIQ+ Advisory Body, he has been helping develop a strategy to better include minority voices in legislation. Ensuring schools, police, transport officers and health professionals know how to treat the LGBTQI community better is a key focus. "We see the impact of casual homophobia in terms of the reported experience of mental health and wellbeing, and of safety and self-harm in our communities" Dr Koonin says. "You can't control what's in people's heads and you, to some extent, can't control what people can say but you can try and make it clear to people what hurts and what doesn't. "A lot of our work will be on increasing the level of awareness and exposure to the impact casual homophobia has in our communities." Although LGBTQI people need to lobby against casual homophobia, the straight community also has to play its part, Mr McCann says. He considers Wallaby-turned-senator David Pocock a notable voice in the LGBTQI marriage equality debate after declaring he wouldn't tie the knot with his wife until LGBTQI people could. "Pocock is a football star, incredibly handsome, incredibly charming and when he puts that kind of statement out there... that's got a lot more weight than the gay community lobbying for rights," Mr McCann says. NSW, ACT, Victoria, South Australia and Tasmania have government LGBTQI advisory bodies but federal parliament doesn't. Although a health advisory has been established in Canberra, Dr Koonin says having a committee similar to NSW would benefit the community. *Lea is an anonymous name. Lifeline 13 11 14 Fullstop Australia 1800 385 578
ABC News
2 hours ago
- ABC News
Women gather from around the world to bring cultural knowledge to firefighting.
Women from across the globe gathered in Far North Queensland to improve their firefighting skills and share cultural knowledge.
ABC News
2 hours ago
- ABC News
First Nations firefighters changing culture on the Queensland fire line
When Arlene Clubb and her relatives joined their local volunteer fire brigade in rural Queensland a decade ago, they were not entirely welcomed with open arms. "People didn't want us there because we were Indigenous people," the Kuku-Thaypan, Kuku Yalanji and Kuku-Possum woman said. "[Some members] in a photo, they turned their backs on us, they didn't want to be in the same photo as us and it just sort of made us feel no good. "But we didn't let that faze us. If you let people like that affect you, you're not going to go anywhere." The reception some gave the Clubb family at the Tinaroo Rural Fire Brigade in the state's far north belied the efforts of first officer and founding member Les Green, who went out of his way to encourage the Wadjanbarra Yidinji traditional owners to join in the first place. It started with a conversation about the need to manage a piece of the Atherton Tablelands of great importance to traditional owners. Arlene's sister-in-law Kylee Clubb, who also signed up, is now the Tinaroo brigade's second officer, working to drive cultural change in fire management more broadly. "[We] thought about what we wanted to do as a family and what we wanted to do as First Nations people, especially on the lands we've been on up there on the Tablelands," she said. Kylee said the growing number of First Nations firefighters was leading to a greater appreciation within agencies of the importance of cultural burning. The practice involves using small fires to benefit the ecology and encourage plant growth, rather than a simple focus on reducing fuel loads. But the best time for a cultural burn on the Atherton Tablelands — an ancient landscape shaped by volcanic activity millions of years ago — might clash with statewide fire bans or burning schedules decided elsewhere in the state. Kylee said the "conversation is being started" about moving away from strict burn schedules, to better include Indigenous knowledge of landscapes. "At the moment, we've seen heaps of lantana, heaps of different weeds, sicklepods just overtake the forest," she said. "[It's about] paying attention to what's flowering and what's seasonal. "The seeds we have out here need activation from fire." Fire management agencies have shown an interest in investing in the leadership skills and expertise of their First Nations personnel too. When the Queensland Fire Department was looking for female firefighters to attend an Indigenous-focused intensive training exchange program in the United States three years ago, Kylee was one of those asked to go. She and fellow Far North Queenslanders Chloe Sweeney and Alex Lacy found the experience so rewarding, they decided to organise their own version of Women-in-Fire Training Exchange, or WTREX, on home soil. It ran over 12 days near Cairns last month, bringing together 40 fire practitioners from across Australia and overseas, most of whom were Indigenous women. One of those was Arlene, who said the growing presence of Indigenous women among the ranks of volunteer firefighters was about showing "we're not just mothers, not just caregivers, not just stay-at-home wives anymore". "[Dispossession] did stop a lot of our cultural burning but it never got lost — the mentality has always been there and all the knowledge we had from our elders is still there," she said. Lenya Quinn-Davidson, an expert on human connection to fire at the University of California, was one of the founders of WTREX in 2016. She took part in the recent Queensland program, and said it was important to offer Indigenous women a safe place to develop their skills and share knowledge so they could thrive in a traditionally "male-dominated, very militaristic" field. "The fire issues we have globally are so wicked, they're wicked problems, and we need diverse perspectives to solve them," she said. Megan Currell, an Australian-born member of the British Columbia Wildfire Service said a decade ago, "it felt like Canada was way ahead of Australia" when it came to relationships with Indigenous peoples. "When I come back and visit home, honestly, I see a massive improvement in the relationship and that cultural aspect, starting to get into cultural burns and being a support system for that and forming real partnerships," she said. "I'd say now they're starting to become neck-and-neck a bit or maybe even Australia is starting to take over."
