THIRTY YEARS into the new millennium, Tasmania is a very different place to that in which my parents lived.
Sure, there are greater numbers of older Tasmanians, but that really just equates to greater levels of experience in society, doesn’t it? Society — that’s the key word here: living in association with others.
It now seems that the demise of the Lennon Labor Government triggered an end to the mentality that put ‘job creation’ on a pedestal and relegated all other issues to, at best, secondary consideration.
How primitive and myopic it now seems for a government to have based its entire blueprint for the state on ethically questionable relationships with a handful of big businesses. How blind were our parents to accept as ‘progress’ the few crumbs thrown to the state by those businesses which preyed and grew rich on state assets or the addictions of the poor and the weak. Thank goodness we’ve moved on.
It is also difficult to believe that, three decades ago, the concept of ‘society’, or ‘community’ if you like, was in decline. Look around now and see the inclusion that exists across this island and how greatly we’ve benefited from that particular change in direction. Back then, our leaders believed that young people left the state in search of employment. It never occurred to them that they were leaving in a search for meaning and a sense of worth. Once we recognised the importance of place, and learned not to ridicule or question the motives of people who expressed empathy, pride and compassion, the vacuum that extracted potential from here suddenly ceased to exist.
I guess the difficult question to answer is; how did we get here? What changed our direction?
In retrospect, it’s a very difficult moment to define. Street barbeques had a little to do with it. How revolutionary! Neighbours getting together to cook, eat and share with each other. I’m proud to say that my generation, the young people back then, stepped up. As we began to express ourselves to service clubs, local government, advisory panels, community workshops and across various forms of media we became recognised as contributors to society. That seems a pretty basic thing to say, but prior to that young people were seen as quite the opposite.
Group mindset disintegrated
I still recall the day that a “senior citizens club” in the town just nearby to mine opened its doors to the young single mothers. Wow, did that send ripples of incredulity through the community! But what benefits flowed — for the young mothers and the club members, but mostly for the babies. From there it was just a short step to older men passing on fishing skills to young people; skateboard exhibitions in aged care homes; the discovery that cards could be played without using a computer; and widespread recognition of the skills and abilities of young people, and the knowledge and experience of the elderly.
I suppose that, once those channels of communication had opened up, we’d already reversed that move towards social isolation. What happened after that was that the group mindset disintegrated. Stereotypes ceased to exist as opinions were formed with exposure to different thinking.
Now, its difficult to find an old-fashioned “youth club” or “senior citizens club”. The less formalised nature of community now means that the groups we create and move amongst may not be formalised with constitutions or membership, but they are no less valid.
I’m so thankful for the society in which I live. Our goals now are based around community well-being, not individual economic accumulation. Wealth has come to mean so much more than just possession of money.
Last week the Premier summarised her agenda for the state as being to provide only those controls necessary to allow people to maximise personal freedom. This is a far cry from the government of thirty years ago. Where would we be now but for those sudden shifts in attitude?
