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Stories are getting twisted Content warning: this piece contains references to police brutality, discrimination and death.
Courtney Theseria
Do you ever wonder how you would be perceived if you were attacked, hurt or killed by some form of law enforcement? Do you wonder if your family would fight for you, if people would mourn you? Do you wonder if your death would make the news? I look at my life and I wonder. I wonder what story would be told. After all, there are so many layers and levels to my story. There is a level of apathy in my life and that is because of me. I’ve played by all the rules that have been put forward. I’ve never taken money from the government, I went to a good school, then university, then started working. I worry about how I look and how I dress. I’m renting but I am looking at buying a house in the next few years. I’ll probably have kids one day: I’m hoping for two. I feel like I got this life handed to me a little. I followed the rules and I’m comfortable. I do not feel extraordinary for doing this, no matter how many people tell me it is impressive that I’ve gotten here. But then there is another layer below it. This layer creates the feeling that I have to defend myself in every room that I stand in, or that it is my job to educate the people around me. Just because I’m Aboriginal does not mean that all my art is. There was a realisation that in my job, I’m probably the first Aboriginal person they have had at the workplace. I also know that being a woman of colour means that there will be people who look through me, or glare at me, or give me a tight smile. If you’re not sure what look I’m talking about, you’re lucky and I hope you never find out. After all this is a basement level that tells me I’m not supposed to be here, that if certain people got their way, I would not have existed. It is the layer that reminds me there are people out there who can spin my life into something negative. I’m taking up space and money away from others more deserving. This is the level where I realise, I cannot make a mistake. I cannot risk making an error because it might cost me more than just money. This is also where my anger lies. I do not go to this level often.
