Article on Asia News IT by Melani Manel Perera
Twenty nuns working in centers and hospitals around Vavuniya. Sister Fatima Nayaki, head of the group, says: "The only desire of every refugee is to begin a new life with dignity and freedom."
Colombo (AsiaNews) - For three months they have helped war refugees gathered in camps and hospitals in northern Sri Lanka. Twenty nuns of various congregations, who in May, through Caritas-Sri Lanka, responded to the government request for assistance to the so-called internally displaced persons (IDPs).
Official data report that, until mid-August, only 19 camps in the district of Vavuniya, are home to more than 79 thousand families for a total of over 246 thousand people. The sisters have lived with them and now they are describing what they saw. At first they were not allowed to enter the camps and hospitals, only after some time could they begin their work of assistance, but not without restrictions and prohibitions.
Sister Jayangika of apostolic congregation of the Carmelites, worked in a hospital in Poovarasankulam. "The health authorities would allowed us to treat only people with chickenpox. There were several pregnant women. Ten of them had lost their husbands and had only the clothes on their backs. " Sr. Jayangika adds: "They eyes were filled with tears and we wanted to cry-out from seeing them in those conditions. Of course we could not do it in front of them, so each time a scream would rise in our throats we struggled to hold back”.
Sister Fatima Nayaki, who led the group of nuns, tells AsiaNews: "The only desire of every refugee is to begin a new life with dignity and freedom. They do not want to remember what has happened to them in recent months and are struggling with their past. When they saw us they asked us to pray for them and bless them".
Sister Francisca, of the Congregation of the Holy Family, said: "The refugees are waiting for someone to come help them, bring them food, clothes. They have only rice, dhal, salt and some coconut”. In temporary shelters set up by the government to house refugees in the transition from the camps to villages of origin, there are shops and markets. But Sr. France explains that "the benches are full of fruit but is too expensive and the refugees have no money to buy it. Some collect a few coins recovering clean water, firewood or catching fish for other refugees, but never more than 10 or 15 rupees, and they use them to buy food for the children".
Many of the camps in which the sisters have provided support are huddled along the roadside. "Everyone can see them from outside - says Sr. Francisca - Hundreds of colourful huts. But the life of those who live there is not colourful at all. There are only people who mourn their children, who have been killed or have disappeared”.
In the days of the great pilgrimage to the shrine of Our Lady of Madhu the streets were full of cars and trucks. The religious women add: "Watching the pilgrims on the move was painful for many. We consoled them explaining that Madhu Amma [the Mother, ndr] knew their problems and that She was with them. On August 15, then some priests of the diocese of Mannar who had not travelled to the shrine celebrated the Mass of the Assumption in the camps with the refugees”.
Friday, September 4, 2009
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Pat Dodson on God, philosophy and his move to academia
Source: http://www.unsw.edu.au/news/pad/uniken/UnikenMayJune09/UnikenMayJune.pdf
(UNIKEN Magazine of University of NSW, pp 12-13.)
In an Australian first, UNSW’s Professor Pat Dodson is tackling Indigenous issues through whole-of-country dialogue underpinned by policy research.
Susi Hamilton reports.
Pat Dodson wears several hats. There’s the broad-brimmed, black Akubra that is ubiquitous in all Dodson’s public appearances.
Then there are the other “hats” he wears as a former priest, the one-time Chairman of the Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation and Commissioner into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody, Sydney Peace Prize winner and now Professor at UNSW.
If there is one thread connecting all those achievements, it is leadership. In an academic sense, his leadership will help steer UNSW’s newly created Indigenous Policy and Dialogue Research Unit.
“I think it’s time for a national dialogue about our underpinning philosophical basis as we redefine our identity and role in a globalised society,” he observes.
“This is not just about Indigenous affairs,” says Dodson. “This is about all Australian people having a say.”
The stakes are high. Asked if he’d like to have an influence on government policy in relation to Indigenous people, Dodson scoffs.
“I’m thinking much bigger than that,” he grins. “Ultimately, we’d like to see a treaty or even constitutional reform.”
The work has already begun. Dodson has just hosted the first regional dialogue in the Kimberley, involving business leaders, government representatives, Indigenous people and other community members.
The plans to build a major gas plant off the Kimberley coast were a major focus of the talks, with some Aboriginal people expressing concern that the development might lead to some of the same problems experienced in the Pilbara.
“The mining went ahead there, but there was little tangible benefit for the Indigenous community,” he says. “We don’t want that to happen again.”
The dialogue is “not a talk-fest,” Dodson declares. “It’s about developing an interface between key stakeholders. Too often local communities feel excluded from policies and decisions that directly affect their daily lives.”
The Northern Territory intervention is an example of the kind of “top-down” approach he hopes to avoid.
There’s no doubt this is an ambitious project. Reconciliation on this scale is something people have been working towards for generations, but it has so far proved elusive. Nonetheless, Pat Dodson has taken on big challenges in the past. When he became involved in land rights campaigns as a young Catholic priest, it got him into “strife” with some of the clergy.
He eventually left, due to the restrictions of the church and differing views on reconciliation, but says he’s still a believer.
“I rarely attend services. I guess I’m a bit more like my grandfather,” he says. “Where is God? He’s everywhere, isn’t he? You don’t have to go into a church to find him. I have a very liberal view of what it all means.”
He speaks of the wrench of leaving the church, but then finding a new purpose in life in the political realm. “You have to decide in your own mind about what you need to do to remain true to who you are and your purpose – to the extent that you understand it,” he laughs.
Broome might be home, but the 61-year-old Yawuru man spends a lot of time away. The part-time position at UNSW will take him to many regional communities as well as regular visits to the Kensington campus. He also chairs the board of the Kimberley Development Commission and heads the Lingiari Foundation – an Indigenous non-government advocacy and research group.
While Mick Dodson, who is currently Australian of the Year, has moved in academic circles for years, it is a new realm for his older brother.
“I periodically have some discussions with Mick, but he does his own things,” says Pat Dodson. “He’s a lawyer, so he has a different way of looking at things. I’m more philosophical and I have a broader-based approach.”
Dodson sidesteps questions about personal motivation and family connections, steering questions back to topics closer to his work. But the Dodson family’s story is well known. Their mother died when they were young and they were orphaned when their father died in 1960. Pat and Mick were made wards of the state, but their sisters decided the boys should accept scholarships to study in Hamilton, Victoria.
While education clearly had a role in why the Dodson boys both became so prominent politically, it doesn’t explain their success completely. “I think it comes from the early stages of injustice, when you had a non-native protector who had total right and power and autonomy to determine your life,” Dodson says.
“They decided where you lived, who you could marry, how you conducted your domestic affairs, who could remove your children, who could decide everything, such as where your garbage bin needed to go at the front of your house.
“You come out of these sorts of moulds and you say, ‘This is not how human beings are meant to be treated, or what citizenship entitles you to enjoy, and there are other measures which we should be aspiring to.’”
Almost half a century after that first trek across the country, Pat Dodson made the trip to the Prime Minister’s 2020 Summit, giving guidance on Indigenous affairs with a group of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island community members, activist organisations and a smattering of academics, including UNSW’s Sarah Maddison.
Maddison was struck by Dodson’s commitment and compassion.
During a chance conversation soon after, it became clear to Maddison, the Senior Associate Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, that a collaboration was possible.
“A colleague of Pat’s said as a throw-away line, ‘We’re thinking that the dialogue needs an institutional base,’” she recalls. “I went to the bathroom and had this flash – ‘I have an institution!’”
Within a year, Dodson was on campus at UNSW, getting his staff card and being inducted by the Human Resources Department. Indigenous studies is not unusual in academia, but UNSW’s approach is. It involves two components: a whole-of-country dialogue, plus policy research. The Unit is based in the Social Policy Research Centre, but within three years it is hoped there will be a standalone centre.
The dialogue process is also an Australian first. It follows a model that has proved worthwhile in South Africa, Indonesia and Guatemala, although it hasn’t been as successful in Canada.
The Dean of Arts and Social Sciences, Professor James Donald, said one of his personal highlights of 2008 was hearing Dodson give the Sydney Peace Prize lecture at the Opera House – an address that showed him the possibility of new philosophical underpinnings for the nation.
Donald says that the research combines social engagement and social justice on a pressing issue that “may just change the course of Australian history”.
When asked about his favourite achievement – the Sydney Peace Prize notwithstanding – Professor Dodson scans the Library lawn quickly and says, “I think this adventure of coming to university. It is challenging, but it is also reminiscent of the eight years that I spent in the seminary, which was a very rewarding, studious period of my life.”
And then there’s that hat. Is it symbolic, is it purely practical – what does it signify to him?
“I’ve worn a hat for many years, in part from a practical perspective because I live in the north and it keeps the sun from my face,” he smiles. “It is a reminder that Aboriginal people are part of this country – and particularly the band, which was knitted by my older sister. It’s second nature to me – I feel a bit undressed when I don’t have it on my head. I get very annoyed when I see people carrying a hat instead of wearing it!”
“Where is God? He’s everywhere, isn’t he? You don’t have to go into a church to find him.”
Watch the video on UNSWTV’s Arts and Society channel at www.tv.unsw.edu.au
__._,_.___
(UNIKEN Magazine of University of NSW, pp 12-13.)
In an Australian first, UNSW’s Professor Pat Dodson is tackling Indigenous issues through whole-of-country dialogue underpinned by policy research.
Susi Hamilton reports.
Pat Dodson wears several hats. There’s the broad-brimmed, black Akubra that is ubiquitous in all Dodson’s public appearances.
Then there are the other “hats” he wears as a former priest, the one-time Chairman of the Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation and Commissioner into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody, Sydney Peace Prize winner and now Professor at UNSW.
If there is one thread connecting all those achievements, it is leadership. In an academic sense, his leadership will help steer UNSW’s newly created Indigenous Policy and Dialogue Research Unit.
“I think it’s time for a national dialogue about our underpinning philosophical basis as we redefine our identity and role in a globalised society,” he observes.
“This is not just about Indigenous affairs,” says Dodson. “This is about all Australian people having a say.”
The stakes are high. Asked if he’d like to have an influence on government policy in relation to Indigenous people, Dodson scoffs.
“I’m thinking much bigger than that,” he grins. “Ultimately, we’d like to see a treaty or even constitutional reform.”
The work has already begun. Dodson has just hosted the first regional dialogue in the Kimberley, involving business leaders, government representatives, Indigenous people and other community members.
The plans to build a major gas plant off the Kimberley coast were a major focus of the talks, with some Aboriginal people expressing concern that the development might lead to some of the same problems experienced in the Pilbara.
“The mining went ahead there, but there was little tangible benefit for the Indigenous community,” he says. “We don’t want that to happen again.”
The dialogue is “not a talk-fest,” Dodson declares. “It’s about developing an interface between key stakeholders. Too often local communities feel excluded from policies and decisions that directly affect their daily lives.”
The Northern Territory intervention is an example of the kind of “top-down” approach he hopes to avoid.
There’s no doubt this is an ambitious project. Reconciliation on this scale is something people have been working towards for generations, but it has so far proved elusive. Nonetheless, Pat Dodson has taken on big challenges in the past. When he became involved in land rights campaigns as a young Catholic priest, it got him into “strife” with some of the clergy.
He eventually left, due to the restrictions of the church and differing views on reconciliation, but says he’s still a believer.
“I rarely attend services. I guess I’m a bit more like my grandfather,” he says. “Where is God? He’s everywhere, isn’t he? You don’t have to go into a church to find him. I have a very liberal view of what it all means.”
He speaks of the wrench of leaving the church, but then finding a new purpose in life in the political realm. “You have to decide in your own mind about what you need to do to remain true to who you are and your purpose – to the extent that you understand it,” he laughs.
Broome might be home, but the 61-year-old Yawuru man spends a lot of time away. The part-time position at UNSW will take him to many regional communities as well as regular visits to the Kensington campus. He also chairs the board of the Kimberley Development Commission and heads the Lingiari Foundation – an Indigenous non-government advocacy and research group.
While Mick Dodson, who is currently Australian of the Year, has moved in academic circles for years, it is a new realm for his older brother.
“I periodically have some discussions with Mick, but he does his own things,” says Pat Dodson. “He’s a lawyer, so he has a different way of looking at things. I’m more philosophical and I have a broader-based approach.”
Dodson sidesteps questions about personal motivation and family connections, steering questions back to topics closer to his work. But the Dodson family’s story is well known. Their mother died when they were young and they were orphaned when their father died in 1960. Pat and Mick were made wards of the state, but their sisters decided the boys should accept scholarships to study in Hamilton, Victoria.
While education clearly had a role in why the Dodson boys both became so prominent politically, it doesn’t explain their success completely. “I think it comes from the early stages of injustice, when you had a non-native protector who had total right and power and autonomy to determine your life,” Dodson says.
“They decided where you lived, who you could marry, how you conducted your domestic affairs, who could remove your children, who could decide everything, such as where your garbage bin needed to go at the front of your house.
“You come out of these sorts of moulds and you say, ‘This is not how human beings are meant to be treated, or what citizenship entitles you to enjoy, and there are other measures which we should be aspiring to.’”
Almost half a century after that first trek across the country, Pat Dodson made the trip to the Prime Minister’s 2020 Summit, giving guidance on Indigenous affairs with a group of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island community members, activist organisations and a smattering of academics, including UNSW’s Sarah Maddison.
Maddison was struck by Dodson’s commitment and compassion.
During a chance conversation soon after, it became clear to Maddison, the Senior Associate Dean of the Faculty of Arts and Social Sciences, that a collaboration was possible.
“A colleague of Pat’s said as a throw-away line, ‘We’re thinking that the dialogue needs an institutional base,’” she recalls. “I went to the bathroom and had this flash – ‘I have an institution!’”
Within a year, Dodson was on campus at UNSW, getting his staff card and being inducted by the Human Resources Department. Indigenous studies is not unusual in academia, but UNSW’s approach is. It involves two components: a whole-of-country dialogue, plus policy research. The Unit is based in the Social Policy Research Centre, but within three years it is hoped there will be a standalone centre.
The dialogue process is also an Australian first. It follows a model that has proved worthwhile in South Africa, Indonesia and Guatemala, although it hasn’t been as successful in Canada.
The Dean of Arts and Social Sciences, Professor James Donald, said one of his personal highlights of 2008 was hearing Dodson give the Sydney Peace Prize lecture at the Opera House – an address that showed him the possibility of new philosophical underpinnings for the nation.
Donald says that the research combines social engagement and social justice on a pressing issue that “may just change the course of Australian history”.
When asked about his favourite achievement – the Sydney Peace Prize notwithstanding – Professor Dodson scans the Library lawn quickly and says, “I think this adventure of coming to university. It is challenging, but it is also reminiscent of the eight years that I spent in the seminary, which was a very rewarding, studious period of my life.”
And then there’s that hat. Is it symbolic, is it purely practical – what does it signify to him?
“I’ve worn a hat for many years, in part from a practical perspective because I live in the north and it keeps the sun from my face,” he smiles. “It is a reminder that Aboriginal people are part of this country – and particularly the band, which was knitted by my older sister. It’s second nature to me – I feel a bit undressed when I don’t have it on my head. I get very annoyed when I see people carrying a hat instead of wearing it!”
“Where is God? He’s everywhere, isn’t he? You don’t have to go into a church to find him.”
Watch the video on UNSWTV’s Arts and Society channel at www.tv.unsw.edu.au
__._,_.___
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