Hey y'all,
This is just a quick post to tell you that I'm really struggling at the moment. As a result of this, I won't be posting articles over December.
I would still like to post short things, to help me stay in the mind set of blogging and to stay connected with you, the reader. To help me do this, I thought I'd do a Q&A style series. Basically, if you have a question for me, comment it or send it to me. If I am able, I will post an answer on this blog.
Of course, if I don't get questions, I'll have to figure out something else to do. Which could prove very hard for me. So please, ask questions!
Also, if you're the praying type, please pray for me. I really need it.
Thanks for everything, guys!
Laura Dee
Saturday 25 November 2017
Sunday 12 November 2017
Dear Australia: We Need to Talk About Manus Island
I'll be honest, it wasn't until this weekend that I became aware of what has been happening with Manus Island. So this may seem like me jumping on a bandwagon, but the very fact that I didn't know is a large part of why I'm writing this.
We need to talk about Manus Island.
But first, do you remember the horror that happened in Aleppo nearly a year ago? Do you remember little Bana Alabed tweeting her story, begging for help?
Because I didn't.
I cried when it happened. Then I forgot. I got distracted.
Yesterday, I picked up her book. I read her story all over again. I felt sick.
Sick that I had forgotten. Sick that I had contributed to the struggles of refugees around the world by my silence. So I made a decision: no more.
Manus Island is full of Bana Alabeds. Men, women, children. None of whom asked for this. They didn't ask for the situation at home to get so bad that running was all they could do. They did not ask to be stripped of freedom, safety and security. But they were.
So, they did what every living creature does when threatened: they chose between fight, flight or freeze.
Well, I say "chose". There want much choice, really. Freezing was deadly, and fighting not much better. That meant flight, as risky as it was, was the only option left for them.
They fled to what they thought would be safety, only for it to disappear like a mirage in the desert.
We did that to them. That is not okay.
I understand how easy it is to forget that those on Manus Island are people, fellow human beings. People that could have been our friends, our family.
They have fled from a destroying boulder, only to find themselves at a precipice. Please don't push them off. Please don't abandon them.
They have thrown themselves at our feet and begged us for mercy.
Now we must decide.
We must decide what kind of people we want to be. Do we want to be a people of compassion? Or a people who despise those who are different? Do we want to be a people who help the hurting? Or a people who cause the hurting?
Our history is marred enough. We have a chance to chance our narrative. Let's change it.
PNG is not safe for refugees. We know that. Don't ignore it.
Bring them here. Allow them to go to New Zealand. Help give them freedom. Help establish them with safe homes and food.
We need to talk about Manus Island.
But first, do you remember the horror that happened in Aleppo nearly a year ago? Do you remember little Bana Alabed tweeting her story, begging for help?
Because I didn't.
I cried when it happened. Then I forgot. I got distracted.
Yesterday, I picked up her book. I read her story all over again. I felt sick.
Sick that I had forgotten. Sick that I had contributed to the struggles of refugees around the world by my silence. So I made a decision: no more.
Manus Island is full of Bana Alabeds. Men, women, children. None of whom asked for this. They didn't ask for the situation at home to get so bad that running was all they could do. They did not ask to be stripped of freedom, safety and security. But they were.
So, they did what every living creature does when threatened: they chose between fight, flight or freeze.
Well, I say "chose". There want much choice, really. Freezing was deadly, and fighting not much better. That meant flight, as risky as it was, was the only option left for them.
They fled to what they thought would be safety, only for it to disappear like a mirage in the desert.
We did that to them. That is not okay.
I understand how easy it is to forget that those on Manus Island are people, fellow human beings. People that could have been our friends, our family.
They have fled from a destroying boulder, only to find themselves at a precipice. Please don't push them off. Please don't abandon them.
They have thrown themselves at our feet and begged us for mercy.
Now we must decide.
We must decide what kind of people we want to be. Do we want to be a people of compassion? Or a people who despise those who are different? Do we want to be a people who help the hurting? Or a people who cause the hurting?
Our history is marred enough. We have a chance to chance our narrative. Let's change it.
PNG is not safe for refugees. We know that. Don't ignore it.
Bring them here. Allow them to go to New Zealand. Help give them freedom. Help establish them with safe homes and food.
If these words have made you want to find out more, or do more, I'd recommend visiting The Australian Refugee Action Network. Please, please, please, don't do nothing.
With love,
Laura Dee
Wednesday 1 November 2017
The Origins of Comfort
Today, the word "comfort" is used to indicate physical or emotional ease. It is also used to talk about the act of easing someone's distress. In both cases, the focus is on the absence, or reduction, of difficulties.
Would it surprise you to know that this is not what the word originally meant?
Those of you who are musical might make a connection between "comfort" and "forte". This would not be wrong. Both come from the Latin word "fortis", which means strong.
This, combined with the suffix "com-", became the Latin word "confortare", meaning strengthen. The French then adapted the word "confort" (noun) and "conforter" (verb), before it joined middle English as "comfort".
At the time, the meaning was still very similar to the Latin. As a verb, comfort meant to strengthen, support and console. This seems to imply that the purpose of consoling and supporting a friend was to strengthen them. Perhaps so they could handle the challenges facing them.
My question, then, is: how might knowing this affect the way we comfort each other?
I'd love to hear your thoughts below!
Would it surprise you to know that this is not what the word originally meant?
Those of you who are musical might make a connection between "comfort" and "forte". This would not be wrong. Both come from the Latin word "fortis", which means strong.
This, combined with the suffix "com-", became the Latin word "confortare", meaning strengthen. The French then adapted the word "confort" (noun) and "conforter" (verb), before it joined middle English as "comfort".
At the time, the meaning was still very similar to the Latin. As a verb, comfort meant to strengthen, support and console. This seems to imply that the purpose of consoling and supporting a friend was to strengthen them. Perhaps so they could handle the challenges facing them.
My question, then, is: how might knowing this affect the way we comfort each other?
I'd love to hear your thoughts below!
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