Tags
alms, floral tributes, giving, grief, homeless people, hostages, Lindt Siege
Story by Emmjay.
In the last few days, Christmas shopping has found us wandering the Emerald city with the inevitable collision with crowds, seemingly only slightly engaged with the retail imperative this year.
And a trip into the CBD has also the inevitable sombre tone of the massive floral tribute to the two hapless Lindt hostage victims. Earlier in the week we saw, up close the most astonishing outpouring of collective grief in living memory.
Innocent victims, granted. Selfless protectors of their friends and staff. A young mother of three with a stellar academic and legal career. Undoubtedly terribly sad.
Yesterday we saw the volunteer fire-fighters and emergency services folk lovingly collecting the floral tributes and putting them into boxes, destined it is said to be mulched and used in a permanent memorial. The organisers had thoughtfully posted many signs to the effect that bad weather is forecast and in honouring the memory of the victims, leaving the tributes to the vicissitudes of the elements was understood to be in poor taste.
It was strangely moving. But it was also troubling for me personally. I was reflecting on the fact that a bunch of flowers (of which there were literally thousands and thousands) might cost say $25 or more. So the good people of Sydney shelled out a staggering amount of money to say how sad we feel for the loss of two innocent lives. At one level this is fair enough.
At another level it’s a sad indictment of our sense of proportion as far as regrettable events go.
Anyone who has walked through our fair city of late would find the number of filthy street dwelling beggars (meaning no disrespect, but that is what they most often are) truly appalling. They are people of different ages. Men and women. Clearly down on their luck and clearly not through a recent mishap. Many seem to be almost career beggars.
Not proud, but when I walk by, I try to give as many as I can some small amount of change until my pocket cash runs out – as it inevitably does. I receive in return gratitude expressed through grimy-faced, semi-toothless smiles and heartfelt good wishes. Sometimes my walking companions remark on this – usually to the effect that they predict the recipients will rush straight off to get another drink, another cigarette, another hit – in fact any reason that my advisors can muster to justify why they themselves have not given alms. Oooh, awkward discomfort….
I usually reply “Well, yes, that man or woman might have used my cash to further their own affliction – but equally they might not”. And I ask “ Who am I to judge that – based on no knowledge of the person whatsoever ?” The act of giving is a simple thing that returns to me the small pleasure of not feeling guilty that, as a man with a house – well who owns half a house – with a job (mostly), a loving family to look after me when I’m sick, to celebrate with me when I have a win, to give away one tenth of an hour’s wages is trivial beyond belief. It’s a small price to pay for the karma of an afternoon.
And it makes it a little easier to even begin to imagine the mountain of grief of a family and friends who just lost the lives of eight children. No round the clock media circus there. No manufactured media-driven outpourings of tears from hundreds of thousands of citizens of the Emerald city. The tyranny of distance added to the tacit acceptance of the misery of the dispossed.
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
There really is a lot of reading in this post. That’s what makes it such a worthwhile article, with the added comments I am meaning as well. The galvanising effect it has is the significance and I was very absorbed thinking about the experience and the stress that was ours as a nation. Those of us with links with Sydney siders were likely all stressing with that extra emotion of the need to be somehow ‘ready. I find that has been so tiring through the recent rash of severely bad experience, being ‘ready. What are we ‘ready’ for at times like that. This being vigilant caper. A phone call to say our loved one was a victim, had flown in through Mongolia on a plane that came available when all other chances of getting back to their family in time for that once a year surprise family party were tried and tested then… decided to get a public bus to a hotel in the city and walked down the street the next morning to buy a coffee unbeknowns to any one of the 350 relatives going to turn up at the surprise family party .. and so on. Ready.
No time before we were thrown into another incident and another. Whatever, I felt great empathy for the coming together of people with, of and over the flowers, weeping and doing it together. Sometimes we spend something on ourselves, the better to carry on, for no other reason than to be out there together and be seen together. The flowers are grief for things not turning out that day for any of us as we thought they were going to. The flowers are grief and loss in this case that human intervention was responsible and murderous in intent. We have made the flowers what we need and want them to be perhaps.
In regard to what we haven’t alternatively done that we are responsible for doing something about, we certainly have some moral challenges. Personally I gave the well dressed woman from the Northern Territory everything I had in my wallet when she stood at the pedestrian crossing and picked me out of the crowd crossing towards her, told me her story and we transacted. You know that urgent giving and accepting a stranger claims and a stranger accepts. Truly I don’t respond to beggars in the street whatever my placement on any one day because there are places to resource as well as they can do the situation that some people are poor but other people who are poor are poorer. Choosing where the small change accumulated goes is a challenge certainly but another option is to create a small fund for something that will stand your immediately local or neighbouring community in good stead. Call in to your local community centre and find out what they are raising money to buy to service the community. It is a near guarantee that a basketball court will service a few hundred kids when it is built and not so sure about the dirty person who is unwashed sitting at the entrance to your workplace. 🙂
All good.
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The day of the seige was a surreal one. The building I worked in was locked down for an hour even though we are a distance from Martin Place. Apparently something to do with the packages. The official messages were confusing in the early part. Yet during the lock down there were people walking around outside. One of my staff wondered why they couldn’t go outside as others were out there. I pointed out what would you prefer safety inside or be outside with a potential bullet in the head. Had the desired affect he stopped being a smart arse.
The next day someone sat next to me on the bus coming home. We get off at the same stop but have not spoken in the 4 years I’ve caught it. She pointed out the flower sellers were doing a roaring trade. It was reported it was like 6 Valentines Days in a row for them.
On Wednesday I walked through Martin Place on my way up to the southern end of Macquarie Street as I do once or twice a week. I found the walking past the flowers the three or four deep people and the fenced off area around the Lindt cafe both powerful and emotional. I also felt anger towards the seller of reindeer antlers in aid of the children’s cancer institute offensive as he walked amongst those at the flowers. I didn’t feel the same emotion last Monday as I walked past with the flowers now around 3 times larger than the previous week with the queues just as long to lay the flowers as well as buy them.
I found myself questioning why the flowers, perhaps a way of expressing grief. After all most would not have known the victims (a person who worked at the Lindt cafe was interviewed on the ABC whose roster was to start at 11am that day, was the sister of a friend of Juniors). I don’t know. Could the money have been used for other things , probably. Does it help those who laid them heal? Don’t know.
But those down and out are always amongst us especially in the city and for those who work there. Most aren’t that old and most don’t won’t do any harm. But for most repulse us, they shouldn’t do so all of us are a catastrophe from being like them. A woman and her dog (their pets often their only companion and the only thing showing them love) walked through our bus stop asking for money so she could sleep in a hostel with her pet that night. I don’t know if it was the case ore not. I gave her a few dollars and she thanked me as did some others. A few jumped out of the road as though she was going to bite them (as if). She wasn’t drunk and didn’t smell of anything other than not bathing for a few days. Another recently was an older woman with a pusher telling me she needed $x to get to Carlingford. I knew what she was asking for was more than the train fare but gave her a $5 note.
Emm your point is a valid one a vast amount of money was spent on two people who died to help excise guilt or grief. Yet as as a society are repulsed by those who are homeless and wouldn’t give a cracker to help them.
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And I sometimes think “Hey, that could have been me.” You just never know.
I’d never stopped to think about the amount of money spent on the floral tributes which could have gone to the suffering living …
Is it in Brisbane where a couple of young blokes have a mobile service so the homeless can wash their clothes? What a splendid idea. (Just looked on Facebook, it’s Orange Sky Laundry.)
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Good on those young blokes ! FM said she disagreed with me that the floral tributes were for the two victims. She said the outpouring of grief was for the loss of innocence of our Emerald city. Not unlike the Bali bombing – but at home.
Then I remembered that poor Brazilian chap who was tasered to death by cops – and ONE of them was found guilty of using excess force because he used two cans of capsicum spray…… yeah, but it was the multiple tasering of a guy in handcuffs that killed him. No floral tributes there either.
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The Brazilian made a significant contribution to his own downfall. Lets face it he was off his face on drugs and suffering delusional paranoia. Doesn’t make the police response correct however, it was over the top. The family themselves had money and managed to control the media and the sympathy.
Last year my brother in law riding a bike in WA was left for dead after being hit at 100kmh with the driver failing to stop. That he survived is a miracle in itself. He now has brain damage though is about 95% of his former self, however will never work again is reliant on a ageing mother to ensure he takes his various medications and general well-being. He lives independently in social housing. He’s unable to get a DSP, due to his ability to talk about politics (or so we’ve been told), though he’ll get a significant insurance payout.
To their credit the person that hit him came forward a day or so later. Apparently afterwards the 23 year old didn’t get out of bed for 3 weeks and lost their job. The family forgave him hoping it would relieve his burden somewhat.
And what happened to this person, well parents had money didn’t they. A dangerous driving as well as failing to stop somehow got downgraded to a negligent driving charge and a $300 fine due to a good barrister. He’d suffered enough he said. The law is an ass and money can make the indefensible defensible.
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Thank you for that observation.
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