This evening I attended an open discussion forum for Baxter 05 which was designed for anyone who was interested in learning more about what happened at the Baxter convergence.

There was a wonderful 10 minute video documentary created by one of the Brisbane bus folk, Noli (who hails from France). Some photography students who came along on the trip had their photos on display. Tieran played an amazing audio interview with one of the detainees who was in Baxter at the time and is now “free” (i.e. is on a Temporary Protection Visa) after 5 minutes of being in detention. At one point this detainee spent 7 months in jail and it turns out he preferred his time there than in detention. How disgraceful is that?

A bunch of people spoke about their experiences. I was meant to speak and even had a speech written, but was not at all interested in sharing. I was feeling a bit down in the dumps and was not feeling confident enough to put myself out there. It doesn’t happen very often as I usually love public speaking, but my mood didn’t fit what was required of me that evening. I enjoyed what everyone else had to say, however.

Below is a copy of the speech I didn’t give:

As an active member of The Greens, it made sense for me to venture to Baxter to support the party’s policy to work to have mandatory detention of asylum seekers abolished.

The reason I joined the party in the first place was because they had a very clear refugee policy.

The Greens call for asylum seekers who arrive without a valid visa to be housed in open reception centres until health and security checks are completed or 14 days has passed, whichever occurs first, and then assisted without delay to move into the community with appropriate support.

The Greens reject the privatisation of immigration detention centres and we reject the indefinite imprisonment of such asylum seekers.

However, my trip to Baxter was also very personal because the last time I was outside an Immigration Centre I was free to come and go as I wished.

My earliest childhood memory is of hanging out in semi-daycare mode at Wacol Migrant Camp with refugees and migrants. Here my mother (an Italian migrant herself) taught English.

This was 1979 and I was 3 years old.

Australia’s immigration detention policy was introduced in 1992 and expanded in 1994. It has since been maintained by successive governments with bipartisan support in Parliament.

This means, until the age of 15 I grew up in a society that welcomed and cared for its refugees. So why did I go to Baxter? Simple! I’m sick of witnessing the anguish caused by the two major parties.

I didn’t handle the trip to Baxter very well and I was at a loss for words most of the time. I found it difficult to remain upbeat and found the whole thing incredibly draining, both emotionally and physically.

You’ve seen the photos of all those police – hundreds of them – and it’s a very strange feeling to have someone make you feel as though you’re doing something very wrong when you know you’re doing something very, very right.

If the police knew me well they’d be all rolling around in fits of hysterical laughter at the fact that I’m such a lack of a threat. As soon as I got there and saw those hundreds of police, I knew there was no way I was going to put myself in an arrestable situation. I was way too scared! I feared the police. And I feared the Federal Government for their truly scary policy. And you may call me weak or fluffy or silly, but no – not really, because unlike those in Australia who are quite content to be spoonfed fear propaganda everyday by most politicians and the media, I don’t fear the people on the other side of the electric fences.

So the concept that I wanted to be inside with these innocent people or wanted them outside with me helped me cope with spending hours and hours at Baxter avoiding the stern, blank expressions on the faces of the police.

It is my hope that 3-year old Australian childen will one day again be allowed to visit our country’s new arrivals, like I did. My earliest childhood memory is receiving warmth from my mother’s students. Today’s asylum seekers, upon arrival, learn nothing of this country’s beautiful lifestyle. They live devoid of hope for a better future that I believe my visits as a child used to provide.