Fair Day in February guided me to the Australian Museum in March. The rainbow lanyard around the neck of the customer service person reminded me of the institutional progressivism, and I put more effort into smiling, as I asked my questions.
‘Surviving Australia’ was the free exhibition that had drawn me in, and I learned that my country’s rural landscapes could be described as ‘surprisingly diverse’. That such a sizeable land mass has change both dramatic and incremental in the unfolding makes sense to me: diversity does not only belong inside boardrooms. Nature is the origin of a concept I associate most readily with humanity.
Here in the city, the animals that *can* survive artificial lighting at night, do. Those who can evade the prowl of feline pets live to see another day. Those that can find their meals with the help of rubbish bins, like ibises, co-exist with our taller, more potentially sophisticated species. Some humans choose to perceive themselves as uniquely distinct from nature. Others still walk back to something more intuitive: we *are* nature.
An awareness of global heating was appropriate towards the end - perhaps there is no animal more dangerous than the human being, given that we are driving extinction events. Those, too, appear incremental, dramatic, and everything in between. Unpredictable, yet we have the illusion of ever-increasing knowledge on the topic, due to our application of scientific methods. I fear for the future of the planet.
There are still possibilities for getting out of our own way and working *with* the rest of nature… I look for ways to do activism, and duly noted that the Australian Museum encourages letter writing to politicians. There seems to be a collective which has mobilised around this very lobbying. I only need to be mindful of Greta Thunberg’s impact to remember that I, too, have some sort of influence. You, too, can help.
I like Zadie Smith's feminist imagination. In response to a recent book calling out the misogyny of '90s pop culture, she referenced 'Keeping up with the Kardashians' and the influence of Donald Trump as reasons why she feels less free now than she did back then. I agree with her view that 'some things get better, some things get worse' over time - this rejection of the modernist idea of Progress was nice.
Perhaps less illuminating is her approach to the Cultural Appropriation debate. As a mixed race individual, she suggests that she is being asked not to write from the perspective of Black people and white people. She finds such exclusion 'an insult to my soul'. Personally, I am a fan of Lived Experience in writing. I may not write fiction, but I don't feel that it limits me to acknowledge that I can only speak for myself. Taking stock of my imagination offers much fruit, and I offer it to the world knowing that my readers will each have their unique interpretations. I cannot write their stories for them. They must find their own voices.
I'm pleased to have read Zadie's choice of Book Every Woman Should Read, 'A Room of One's Own' by Virginia Woolf. I enjoyed a room of my own through the great majority of my life, including most of my childhood. In terms of desks, too, I was fortunate: IKEA provided me with a shiny, white one brandishing a representation of the globe, with each country in a different colour. I learnt to strategically place a 'KNOCK! before you enter' sign at my parents' eye level, protecting my privacy some more.
In some ways, I am fortunate. In other ways, not so much. It's a mixed reality.
My experience of Zadie Smith is that she is sensitive, multi-faceted and incisive. She isn't afraid to improvise in front of thousands of people. She is candid about second-guessing herself, which she knows she has in common with most women. I felt inspired by her humbleness, as well as confidence. I hope to seek her out again sometime soon.
