Share Your Story Winners
Winner - Ali Majoka - If a woman gets raped, it's her fault.
Sam Merriel - Involve
Emma Kate McMahon - What are you drinking?
Bianca Blades - Involve
Samantha Hall - Ten Days in Bali
Winner, Ali Majoka, 17
If a woman gets raped, it’s her fault.
Towards the end of Year 11 I ran for school captain.
As I rose to do my speech at a whole school assembly, the crowd erupted into a roar. The great hall filled with applause and my heart with awe and happiness, what a reception Australians gave to a Pakistani born, Year 11 Muslim student.
At the conclusion of my speech, the applause was even greater. The crowd had started chanting my name.
Having been received more warmly than any of the other nominees, I was confident of my dream becoming reality, myself becoming school captain.
On voting day I was told that I believed “if a woman gets raped, it’s her fault”; later on I became aware that on becoming school captain I will change school uniform so that all girls must wear head scarves and longer skirts. The rumours spread like wild fire; it seemed before the end of lunch most of the school had heard.
Not only were the rumours false but they were devastating. There would’ve been few occasions when I had felt so hurt in my life.
I lost the election.
Although devastated at the time, I believe losing that election has been a crucial learning experience in my life. It has made me realise what widespread ignorance there is about Islam in the general community and how quickly people are willing to generalise. (I’m aware that on TV some Muslims have been portrayed as holding the opinions that I was accused of and so some students generalised without thinking and assumed that I believed the same). I also realised how it can take years to build a reputation and only a few rumours to destroy it.
I wish the rumour spreaders could realise the same things.
Sam Merriel, 21
Involve
Young Australians are facing some major health issues in this current day and age. Being a young person myself, all around me I can see my generation’s health deteriorating because of inactive lifestyles, poor diet and social disconnection. Adolescent health is something that I feel very passionate about. One of my professional goals is to address these problems, both now as a medical student and in my career as a doctor, to improve the quality of life for children and adolescents in future generations.
Right now, I am involved in a youth organisation in which programs are delivered by young people for young people, and I am trying to introduce another. I have been a youth leader in The Reach Foundation for almost five years. Through Reach’s diverse workshops, camps and major events, I have helped the foundation to try and create a positive peer group amongst young people in Victoria. The most rewarding part of my work with Reach is that I get to work with young people of all ages, backgrounds and social status, and over time I have had the privilege of seeing them defy their own boundaries and dare to be better than they are.
An exciting new health program exists in Western Australia, called Dr YES (Youth Education Services). The Dr YES program involves volunteer medical students going to schools and giving educational workshops on relevant health issues for adolescents. I encountered this program recently at the annual Australian medical student convention, and I am now working closely with some of the medical student co-ordinators to bring this highly effective initiative to my home state of Victoria. I believe that educating Victorian students on their own health will empower them to take control of this vital aspect of their lives and make positive changes for themselves.
Emma Kate McMahon, 25
What are you drinking?
It was as if I had somehow fallen into a charcoal drawing. Buildings along the street appeared hurriedly sketched, with smudged darkness filling their windows and the trees stood as trunks of sharp vertical strokes stained with black foliage. I could see no colour anywhere. Even the streetlights, usually a buttery yellow, burned a bright, ethereal white.
Everything passed my eyes in slow motion, blurring as it went. I knew I was on my
street, not far from my apartment, but nothing felt familiar to me.
I was conscious of leaning against someone as I struggled to put myself in motion,
dragging one foot in front of the other. Only the next morning, when I woke
shivering and naked, did I understand what had happened. My drink had been
spiked.
Some friends and I had gone to a popular club at Sydney’s Darling Harbour. I’d been happily chatting with some Irish boys we’d met, when my knees suddenly buckled beneath me and I crumpled to the floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Taken outside for some fresh air, I rushed to a nearby rubbish bin and promptly began what would be 24-hours of vomiting. Hunched over discarded chip packets and pizza boxes, it wasn’t my finest moment.
Sitting in the surgery, I began to cry as I realised how my night might have ended; how close I’d come to becoming a victim of who knew what.
While I’d heard stories about date rape, like most young women have, I’d always maintained the naïve idea that it would never happen to me. I came dangerously close to living a nightmare, but escaped unscathed.
Now if I miss the train or burn my toast, I don’t consider myself unlucky.
Bianca Blades, 14
Involve
I’ve always been busy, but when I reached half way through Year Nine, I realised that high school was flying by. It didn’t seem long ago that I was in the safe, protected environment of primary school. Back then, my only worries concerned whether the sand pit would be full or what mum had packed for lunch. Now, in high school, I was faced with changing friendships, choosing subjects and the scariest word a 14 year old could hear: Career. Slowly, I began to find out more about this scary word and the more I learnt the less threatening it seemed. I found that there are plenty of options and that I had a wide range of choices.
One of these choices was to do work experience. I remembered that my school had a work experience program and I decided to give it a try. One of my strengths is creativity, but living in regional Queensland, I didn’t think I had many options. However, I brainstormed some ideas and decided on working at a florist. I was accepted to do the work experience in the holidays. I expected my first day to be nerve-wracking but the people I worked with were friendly and welcoming. Over the week I learnt many skills like faxing, doing invoices, wrapping arrangements and gifts, remembering flower names and more. I had a great time and was sad to finish. However, I brightened up when I was asked to work the next day and get paid for it!
I would like to continue my interest and hopefully attend a floristry conference being held soon. This experience gave me an insight into a great industry and more ideas for my career. The opportunities are there, you just need to get involved and take a chance.
Samantha Hall, 19
Ten Days in Bali
The first thing I noticed when we landed was the distinct smell of the place. At that moment I couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but I soon learned that it was flowers. Foreign flowers; not like ones we have at home. The smell was thick and made the air sweet and syrupy. It wrapped around my skin, leaving me hot and sticky.
No one wanted me to come here. They said it was dangerous. Why didn’t I just go to Surfers Paradise like everybody else? It was schoolies week and I did not want to celebrate by sleeping 15 minutes from my home, binge drinking, waking up with a skull splitting down the center. For almost the same money I could come here, and experience something new. Dusty streets, stores where you had to haggle for a good price, and people that still loved you despite the current climate of the world.
The second thing I noticed was the smiles. Everybody smiled at me. I know this was partly because they needed my money, especially now that the tourists refused to come. But, there was also real joy that emanated from inside; a happiness that you could catch like an infectious flu. During my ten days in Bali, I caught it. I was able to forget everything the news said about terrorists and travel warnings. The city was always alive, always willing to share itself. While walking around I saw the rubble of the Sari club. I saw the prison where Schapelle waited to be saved. I didn’t feel fear at these sights, but sadness.
Up in the nearby mountains where villagers weaved baskets and monkeys reigned supreme the happiness just couldn’t overcome the sadness. Such a beautiful place tainted by such ugly events.