Another Australia Day 26th January long weekend. It was the arrival of the First Fleet of British convicts. 200+ years later I discover my ancient rights and liberties are thwarted by the Tories of today, a legacy of Westminster’s punitive policy against the disadvantaged.
Westminster rejected her base born, poverty stricken and protesting peasantry to the land Captain James Cooke had reported on his scientific mission of 1770.
FOR NEW ARRIVALS I HIGHLY RECOMMEND READING Kate Grenville’s THE SECRET RIVER.
JANUARY 2018 – 30 YEARS since my arrival as a teenager in 1978. My personal bush-fires mean a chronic psychiatric disorder thankful for a Disability Support Pension. The Government sees me as a burden to their coffers.
If I leave Australia, I will be paid for up to 28 days from the date you leave.
If I’m still overseas after 28 days, payment stops.
Consider this: It would be fair if I am entitled to 3 months Long Service Leave to contributing to the culture, giving birth to new daughters and now grandsons in this country. My parents are in their end years and disabled by various health conditions. I could reasonably expect to be called to either of their funerals anytime.
I’m looking for my Australian Citizenship certificate so I can apply for a new Australian passport. I must prove I am a BRITISH BORN AUSTRALIAN – NOT UNDER SCRUTINY FOR MY DUAL LOYALTIES…..like our Parliamentary representatives!
I’ve been asked a handful of times if I would consider nominating for local government or Parliament. Like many British born emigrants being Australian is being born with a limb you regard as being part of your British Empire body.
It’s inherited from your culture. It’s common for family members or neighbours to go and live in Australia. The first time we were accepted to emigrate my Dad pulled out the day before the ship left. He couldn’t leave his Mum and Dad.
New South Wales was a potential Life-sentence!
It took mum a second marriage to return to the land of Oz. The first time had been torturous being kidnapped by a scheme set up to empty the orphanages after the war. Unfortunately, after 10years her husband wanted to go back ‘home’.
My sisters and I knew which side of our sliced bread was buttered. Melbourne was our home Port, School and Work. Now I am the Matriarch holder of the boomerang.
Parliament starts again in two weeks. There are many of us creating paper-work for the Public Servants gathering evidence of our Australian citizenship.
I have to be prepared for flying back to England for sick and dying parents, and MP’s want to have the power to create a better society…like change the DSP rules to include the tyranny of distance! Through no fault of my own, I shouldn’t be held hostage to this Government’s policy.
There are five categories in section 44 that set out who can be a candidate for the federal parliament and — more importantly — who can’t.
Put simply, section 44(1) of the constitution says someone can’t be a dual national and sit in parliament.
My question to the House is are they going to pay the Commonwealth back their income of which they weren’t entitled when the Centrelink poor have been hounded for less?
The assumption of many Brits(10pound poms) like my Yorkshire parents-in-law was Australia is not truly Sovereign; the umbilical chord is still attached. The Queen is Head of State and the taxpayers continues to pay the tab for the Royals to come and visit the old colony.
I was spoon-fed a deep connection to Australia via my mother’s memories when she was transported to New South Wales, as a child migrant from the overwhelmed Orphanages in 1950.
MUM’S HERSTORY LINK:
My allegiance to this country of Australia when I arrived as a teenager was absolute. I was glad to cut my ties because I had been going through a tough adolescence with my peers and I saw NO FUTURE for me.
TERROR TEENS; When I was 18, living on my own with a bean bag, I confess to thinking I would go back to the Mother Country if there was a Revolution against Margaret Thatcher’s regime!
My husband said the same thought had occurred to him! We had so much in common…It was on the long Australia Day weekend we got married 1984.
Then a funny thing happened on our belated honeymoon, entering Bali in 1984. Fatefully a Denpasar Airport officer said we didn’t have a re-entry Visa so wouldn’t be able to get back into Australia!
But we ‘re Australians. We live there! My baby is going to be born at the Queen Vic birth centre in 4 months!
The advice was to go to the Australian Embassy as soon as we settled into our hotel. A kindly official informed us she would issue a temporary visa but we would need an Australian passport with Australian Citizenship even if we had emigrated in 1964 and 1978 on a family passport.
Nobody had told us we could be deported. Nobody told us we’d be put in a detention centre and sent back to that cramped, grey Thatcherite non-society. To be frank, I had to be pragmatic without knowing the word; I put my hand up to God and the Queen.
GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!
Like the Sex Pistols – I CARED FOR NEITHER OF THEM.
IN MY DREAM LAST NIGHT I spoke to
chief political journalist for the Guardian, Catherine Murphy. She looks like she might have dual nationality, very Irish looking like my mum!
Is our Federal Government imploding? What is the answer to all this mess? Sharman like I would consult with my ancestor whose name was Catherine Murphy:
THE ANSWER, she said IS AN AUSTRALIAN REPUBLIC – A NEW ANTHEM, NEW FLAG. I see it blowing in the wind… AND I added, Turn a new leaf on the recycled paper to compliment the Commonwealth with a Bill/Charter of Rights…
Make the young people proud like they are in the Irish Republic, guiding the Australian tourists with Irish roots around the old Oppressor’s administration, Dublin Castle; and this is a portrait of our elected President….
In one night the solution rung true, to rescue our social democracy for our grandchildren’s fulfilment of their dreams – A decent income for your labours in a dream home with a pool in a sunny climate, and enough spare to use your 12 weeks long service leave to visit family and friends stuck in the Mother Country. It’s a basic desire. Natural to a migrant nation.
Revised (c)copyright JMcNeill 2018 all rights reserved