Stereotypes and the Whole Monoculture Debate

Solving the Problems of the World

It’s a dangerous thing, letting an Aquarian go on holiday. Our restless brains find themselves unshackled from the daily grind of leadership and management (though we do find joy in these pursuits) and with insufficient distractions to quell our overactive imaginations, we liberate our powers of observation of the mundane and are free to focus on the problems of the world. I like to frame it as creating the space and being present enough to witness the ‘extraordinary’ in the ‘ordinary’.

Global peace and harmony are at the core of an Aquarian’s aspirations. War is a barbarian enigma and humour is the greatest capital you could hope to acquire. I know that money is like oxygen because you can’t live without it, but if you can’t see the funny side of life, then your soul is missing something of far more meaningful use, IMHAO (in my humble Aquarian opinion).

I went to bed thoroughly exhausted from a day of awakening at ‘sparrow’s fart’ to catch an early morning flight to Perth’s extended suburb aka Bali. This was after an unusually stressful week of dealing with staff issues (one of the two greatest challenges faced by entrepreneurs IMHAO) and that of seeking to manage customer expectations (the other gargantuan task, which can be akin to attempting a moon landing in a rusty old Mini Minor, whilst steering with your hands tied behind your back). Add in the third factor of supporting my bestie wife who manages the daily needs of a ‘disabled’ teenager trapped in a man’s body, whilst navigating the intricacies and frequently contradictory elements of the NDIS system (for which we are eternally grateful btw) and you could say that our spirits are in dire need of a respite break.

Sleep deprivation is used as a torture technique in war situations and is probably a no-no under the Geneva Convention, but for Carers, it’s just a way of life that you get used to. That’s why an exhausted brain can grab a mere few hours of sleep and be reactivated in the wee hours of the night with a head bursting with garbage that just needs to be set free.

So, there’s the context for my inane drivel. I awoke from a dream where an Uber driver was at the door, and my partner wanted me to get up and answer it. Once awakened, I find it really hard to just roll over and go back to sleep, much as the tortured brain might crave that luxury.

Why an Uber driver, and why stereotypes? Get to the point, you demand.

Our travel day yesterday began with a 3am wake up alarm after I had been tying up the loose ends of my never-ending to-do list (small business owners and Carers know what I mean) until an absurdly late bedtime.

I summoned an Uber pickup at around 3.30am and we were collected by a lovely young man from Pakistan. Our driver, Usama was only six alphabet letters away from making me wonder whether the car might contain an incendiary device and that we were unwittingly about to be embroiled in a mission to blow up our amazing, newly refurbished airport. The words of my unapologetically ‘racist’ mother-in-law burst into my mind – “Those ‘darkies’ all think the same!” Don’t be offended – I’m merely quoting one of her ‘truisms’, which I refuse to consider as anything but comical. One person’s truth, whilst true beyond refute for them, can be another person’s source of emotional turmoil or mirth – we each choose the lens through which to view the theory.

If you don’t know me well enough, my truism as instilled by my hotelier parents, whose lives included the negative impacts of a world war, is that ‘there is good and bad in all nationalities of the world’. This perspective was exemplified during my childhood of living in a hospitality environment and reinforced later on when running my own backpackers’ lodging house business for fourteen years and entertaining and hosting over 35,000 guests. As both a business owner and a global traveller, I’ve dealt with people from almost every nation on the planet at some point, and I still look for the good in people until they give me a reason to think otherwise. That might be naïve of me, and whilst some people have let me down, so many more have enriched my life that I prefer that lens as my default filter.

As I age, I find myself becoming more like my mother. Once a shy boy, I now engage in conversations with just about anybody. I like to think that her interest in people is what helped her live to one hundred and still be as bright as a button until cancer took her from us in the very end. My dad was worn out by ninety, but it was still a great innings. Dad could leave Mum alone on a centre aisle bench in a shopping centre while he nipped into a store to buy something, and by the time he emerged, he’d find she had made friends with five new people from all over the world and had exchanged life story excerpts with conversations gusting at 40 knots.

Thus, Usama and I had a good old chinwag during the Uber ride. He was a geo-chemical, bio-mechanical software engineer, or some such title that went blah blah in my brain. The point was that he was a smart lad and he was Uber driving to save money to marry his lovely fiancée back in Pakistan and bring her here to raise a family in this country, so his children could have a better life. He had lived in Australia for two years and was working his butt off to achieve his goals, which brings me to the topic of stereotypes and the great ‘monoculture versus multi-culture debate’.

Usama had, to use the buzz word of the day, ‘assimilated’ and he was up at this un-Godly hour to make extra cash. His skin was a few shades darker in tone than my pasty, freckled mixture of Celtic Mancunian white, that turns red in the sun, but he shared my work ethic, my willingness to strive to achieve my goals, and my determination to add value to the nation and its culture that I had chosen to adopt as ‘my Lucky Country’. His accent was even easier to understand than that of my first wife, a Glaswegian Scot, who had assimilated with me some forty years earlier. We too had moved here to raise a family with the dream of a better life and had been willing to work hard and add value to our new homeland. I didn’t ask, but I’d assume he was probably of Muslim faith. My father used to say that ‘religion was the cause of most wars’, so he flatly refused to adopt one, but he would add that he lived his life ‘according to Cristian values’ and to him that simply meant ‘trying to be a good person and being honest and fair to people’. I’d agree with his aspiration though I’d add that IMHAO it’s not religion per se that is the problem, but people’s interpretation and manipulation of the various faiths’ scriptures to suit their agendas that cause the problems of the world.

Usama came across to me as a very likeable and industrious, young man. He was humble, polite and respectful of the opportunities that he been blessed with. Yet some anti-immigrant obsessed Aussies would want him ‘sent back where he came from’ because of his faith or the colour of his skin.

Now, excuse the pun, (I’m a Granddad joker, so I can’t help myself) but it’s not just a ‘black and white issue’ is it?!

Where Did this Multicultural Experiment Take Off?

Australia began its multicultural push in the 1970’s under the Whitlam Government, encouraging migration from all over the world, ending a previously predominant leaning towards those from so-called ‘white countries’. Back in 2015, European countries followed the German Chancellor, Angela Merkel’s lead of welcoming refugees and immigrants to help solve their ageing population problem – a problem that Australia now faces with increasing urgency. At first, this was a great initiative with a positive intention, but as the decades rolled on, it led to ghettos, streets that spoke a different language, practiced a different culture and religion, and even whole districts adopting tribal laws that conflicted with the laws of the land. Teachers found that their classrooms contained kids who didn’t speak the native tongue. Unemployment and the welfare economy was rife in these areas and that led to gangs and increased crime statistics. Ironically, it had been a coloured politician, Enoch Powell, who had warned Britain decades ago about what was to come when adopting an ‘open border’ immigration policy.

Whilst multiculturalism was the goal, division and social unrest was the end result, and one by one, these countries began to realise that the social experiment was not achieving it’s intended purpose. One by one, the European nations began to toughen their stance on border controls and immigration policy. They sought to put the cork back in the bottle, but the genie was already in the room.

As my father had expressed so astutely, religious faith became an issue, not because some people simply worship a different deity or collection of them, but because religious extremism and mankind’s inherent desire to impose their chosen beliefs on a different culture is an unquenchable thirst that has haunted us since our cave dwelling days. The media has become a fear-provoking demon that thrives on sensationalism for its very existence. We are bombarded with tales of radical extremism and that people who are ‘different to us’ are dangerous and should be exterminated or at least kept at arm’s length. We saw in 1930’s Germany how that one worked out.

It’s not hard to poke that bear either. We all remember ‘9/11’ or the ‘Bondi Massacre’, or if you’re old enough, the ‘Je suis Charlie’ shootings in Paris, the Ariana Grande concert bombing in Manchester, or the Bali bombs. The list goes on. Do we even understand why the perpetrators did what they did? Not really, in most cases, except perhaps that they are different to the mental illness motivations that led to school shootings or serial killings. The world has always contained such injustices since day dot, but today’s technology beams it instantly into your loungeroom. Then there’s the great political divide. Americans are no longer simply Americans – they’re either Republicans or Democrats, whose increasingly bitter divide has been exploited for personal gain by the most divisive President in living memory, and it is tearing families apart.

Australia has its own demons. Unless we’re Indigenous, they say, we’re all immigrants. Perhaps, but even those people were early settlers, arriving in boats from another continent. Even the dinosaurs were only temporary residents. Whatever your take is on that issue, in our fledgeling nation we have developed our own unique ‘Aussie culture’. The country has for decades welcomed immigrants who were willing to work hard, add value, assimilate and follow the ‘Aussie way’. Italian tilers were belittled as ‘Dings’ and ‘Whops’. The English were called ‘whingeing Pommy bastards’, every settling faction had to overcome their demeaning nicknames and earn their stripes, yet everyone blended and brought their diverse impact with them in our skillsets, our food, our entertainment, our sporting successes and so on. Australia became a global model for the potential success of multiculturalism.

So, what has changed? Back to my story…

Multiculturalism in Action

Usama dropped us off at the airport ad we genuinely wished him well for his impending wedding and future life. We checked in for our flight. If I remember correctly, I think the counter lady was an Asian Aussie and was chirpy and helpful. The Customs Officers were a diverse group of friendly people, mostly Caucasian I think, with possibly a Kiwi guy among them. The Security screening guy was of Indian descent, I think. The first lady I encountered in Duty Free looked Japanese and she rudely blanked me to serve someone else. No offence taken, as she was busy, but I remember reflecting that Japanese people are stereotypically the politest people you’ll ever meet!

The Duty-Free guy who served us was Indian and he was super helpful and friendly. The female bar tender was Scottish and insanely chirpy for that time of day. Our flight was delayed, so I was able to watch the end of the World Cup Final soccer, one of the greatest, most unifying forces in sporting history, yet even that contained niggling conflict between some of the Spanish and Argentinian players. Don’t even get me started on the complete numpty who presented the trophy and tried to make the event all about him!

Our pilot on the flight to Denpasar, Bali was a white, ‘dinky di’ Aussie. The Head Stewardess was a female Singaporean, whom I suspect was a Lesbian and the male Stewards were clearly all gay Balinese guys.

The lady who tried to arrange a taxi at Bali airport but couldn’t, was a Japanese looking Balinese girl. Then, our taxi driver, with whom of course I chatted, told us how his employment contract in hospitality had not been extended, because at 45 he was considered ‘too old’. Thus, he had resorted to taxi driving three months earlier, to feed his three young children. He was grateful to have a job.

As we relaxed and drank well-deserved cocktails overlooking the lovely Sanur beachfront that afternoon, it occurred to me that we were drinking Jamaican rum, Mexican tequila and Russian vodka and nibbling on Vietnamese spring rolls on an Indonesian promenade. We would later continue to enjoy Irish food with wine made from Australian grapes, served by Balinese staff, while listening to a Mexican band playing hit classics from the UK and America.

Throughout the afternoon and evening, I engaged in my love of people-watching. People have always fascinated me. What drives us to do the crazy stuff we do? What makes us tick?

I observed people simply sharing the unifying trait of being human. It was a melting pot of nationalities because Bali draws tourists from across the globe. Children of all races and creeds splashed playfully in the water’s edge. Families walked along the promenade, taking in the sights together. People rode bikes, walked or jogged; some were pushed in wheelchairs or walked with frames. Young, old, gay, straight, white, coloured, disabled, able-bodied, fat or fit, they were all human beings. Some of us were even ‘rangas’ or in my case, a white-whiskered redhead, who’s turning blonde (Ok, just about turned blonde, damn it!)

I saw no fights, no radicalising, no terrorism – thank you Universe. I just saw people, sharing joy.

Meanwhile, around this planet, the debate for what constitutes the right path to follow rages on – a ‘Monocultural Policy’ or a ‘Multicultural Policy’. Everyone has an opinion of some sort on how best to proceed, but there’s one unifying force I hope we can all incorporate – the Aussie spirit of giving people ‘a fair go’, or as they say, ‘a fair crack of the whip’.

What It Means to Me to Be Australian

I was given that opportunity to migrate and let me add that I worked hard for it. I came to Perth on honeymoon, I convinced an employer to sponsor me, and I fought my way through an eighteen-month endurance test of red tape and bureaucratic bs before gaining permission to migrate to the land ‘Down Under’. That was over forty years ago. Since then, I’ve paid God only knows (Allah/ Jehova /the Universe/ insert your choice) how much in taxes; I’ve employed thousands of staff; I’ve coached hundreds of entrepreneurs and executives; I’ve hosted tens of thousands of holidaymakers and I’ve provided services for probably hundreds of thousands of customers. All that, yet I was once considered ‘another bloody Pom – a title I refuted, because I was in fact a Jerseyman (Channel Islands, not New bloody York!)

Nevertheless, I’m now absolutely a proud Aussie, living in the greatest nation on Earth IMHAO, and I’m blessed with a wonderful wife and family with Aussie kids and grandkids. I hope we can all remember that what unites us all is greater than that which divides us, no matter where we choose to live and whatever faith we chose to hold, or whichever politics we choose to support. That said, I believe that those immigrants who are welcomed by our country and who then commit crimes or preach hatred towards the very country who opened its doors to them, should be penalised by sending them back from whence they came.

Maybe, the multicultural concept is flawed – that’s up for debate, but what has worked is ‘embracing diversity’ whilst seeking to negotiate a common vision to aspire to. Values of fairness and mutual respect are the key. Let’s hope we can work that out between us all.

See you next time!
Tony Inman