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Issue No. 134 | 03 May 2002 |
The Hijacking of May Day
Interview: Youth Group History: Back To The Future Industrial: On the Street Unions: The New Deal Legal: The Police State Road Women: What Women Want Politics: Street Party International: The Costs of War Review: Songs of Solidarity Satire: Bono Satisfies World Hunger for Preachy Rockstars Poetry: Woomera
Yarra Seamen Take Border Stand Kinkos Copies Anti-Union Script Nike Told to Shoosh on Sweatshops Rapper Wins Wobbly Anthem Prize Unions Target Labour Hire Bidding War Rally Targets Tight-Arse Costello Councils To Be Audited On Language Allowance Scope For Payback In Privacy Limitations Heavyweight Push For Medibank Private To Stay Public East Timor MPs Question Timor Gap Plan Artists' Union Bans Voice For Peace
The Soapbox The Locker Room Bosswatch Week in Review Tool Shed
M1 Open Letter Julian Online May Day Debacle Mothers Day Musings Greetings From Canada
Labor Council of NSW |
Poetry WoomeraBy David Peetz
The ast fortnight has revealed further evidence about our treatment of fellow human beings and our treatment of the truth. If you want to do something about it, you could start by adding your name to the petition calling for a royal commission into the government's treatment of asylum seekers ( http://www.PetitionOnline.com/ausrefug/petition.html ). In the meatime, we reflect on a name... WOOMERA you were named for the carved stick used to launch spears to bring down kangaroos and feed tribes, as a child I thought of you as a great place in the midst of the wild desert where wondrous things took place; where massive flames from rockets lit up the red sand and launched this land into space. as the people poured off the boats from lands far away and into the factories and onto the mountains to build grand hydro-electric visions and we lauded their courage. you showed the world that we looked outward, beyond our shores, you showed the world we looked forward to an exciting unknown future. Woomera, why have you changed so much? I cannot recognise you now. Is it really you, or has someone secretly killed you and stolen your identity? now the people trickle off the boats from lands far away into your camp, that is a prison by another name - no worse - hidden from wondering eyes. we don't want their skills to build grand new visions, we despise their courage. and you show the world how inward-looking we are, you show the world how we look backward to times long best forgotten. what does your name mean now, Woomera? something to launch fears? to bring down a nation's spirit? to feed the maggots of hatred that gnaw at a national character? Is it really you? Who has done this to you? Who?
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