Boundless Plains to Share

A blog about Asylum Seekers and their right to come to Australia

recitation:

Reza Berati - 1991-2014 Imagine you had to leave your country because the economic sanctions imposed made it too hard to stay, with your family, your friends. Imagine you left after you graduated high school. Maybe a couple years later. 23. Imagine all the potential, the dreams you have for a better life in a country that is supposed to offer asylum. A country which is actually complicit in the severe sanctions on your homeland and instead locks you up, on a third-party nation. Imagine to then be told that you will never settle in Australia. You’ll be settled on PNG. Imagine the incessant mosquitoes, the searing heat, a tent and the rags they’ve allow you to keep as your only protection. Imagine being, or seeing others, harassed by guards because their children are sick, they’re sick. They feel like they’re going to die there. Imagine then being told, mockingly, that you will never be settled in PNG. Imagine being attacked, the people you suffer with, being attacked for being forced into a concentration camp on a nation which had to be paid off to agree. Imagine being murdered at 23 after suffering through conditions you were placed in by a country which aggravates conflict abroad and then punishes those who try to escape. Australia left his life, efforts, hopes and dreams decimated. His death too, then, can’t be in vain or we can be assured that there will be more Reza Beratis and more blood spilled.

recitation:

Reza Berati - 1991-2014
Imagine you had to leave your country because the economic sanctions imposed made it too hard to stay, with your family, your friends. Imagine you left after you graduated high school. Maybe a couple years later. 23. Imagine all the potential, the dreams you have for a better life in a country that is supposed to offer asylum. A country which is actually complicit in the severe sanctions on your homeland and instead locks you up, on a third-party nation. Imagine to then be told that you will never settle in Australia. You’ll be settled on PNG. Imagine the incessant mosquitoes, the searing heat, a tent and the rags they’ve allow you to keep as your only protection. Imagine being, or seeing others, harassed by guards because their children are sick, they’re sick. They feel like they’re going to die there. Imagine then being told, mockingly, that you will never be settled in PNG. Imagine being attacked, the people you suffer with, being attacked for being forced into a concentration camp on a nation which had to be paid off to agree. Imagine being murdered at 23 after suffering through conditions you were placed in by a country which aggravates conflict abroad and then punishes those who try to escape. Australia left his life, efforts, hopes and dreams decimated. His death too, then, can’t be in vain or we can be assured that there will be more Reza Beratis and more blood spilled.

(via diligentcitizen)

For those who’ve come across the seas,
We’ve boundless plains to share,
Unless you’ve come across the seas from anywhere other than Britain,
In which case you can just fuck right off.

—The second verse of the Australian National Anthem (as amended by Tony Abbott)

(Source: rotaesshinies, via auspolandallthat)

http://www.change.org/en-AU/petitions/scott-morrison-bring-our-boys-back-home

Everyone has the right to a safe, healthy, happy life.

On the 26th of June, 2014, Department of Immigration employees were waiting at the residence of two 16 year old Vietnamese asylum seekers who had been studying at Woodville High School. When the boys arrived home from school they were taken, without being told what was happening to them, and were sent to Inverbrackie Detention Centre in the Adelaide Hills. Soon afterwards, they were then flown out to Darwin, where they are now being detained at Wickham Point.

Abbott offers asylum seekers $10k to go home

joshcroggon:

FOR FUCK’S SAKE

"Hey guys, I know we’ve endangered all of you by leaking your details that were downloaded all over the world and that we try to dissuade you from coming here by advertising the fact we literally torture you you to the point of suicide, but how about going back to the country you risked your entire life to leave?  We’ll give you some money.  And we don’t give away money lightly!  GUYS, C’MON!"

(via sprinkledwords)

aazephyr:

Outside QVB building in #Sydney: “Chilout” has an art-based #refugee action on rescuing children in #detention #centres. They need you help in getting all 1,023 dolls out, so donate your time and raise awareness today or tomorrow (until 4pm each day).www.chilout.org #noborders #NoOneIsIllegal

aazephyr:

Outside QVB building in #Sydney: “Chilout” has an art-based #refugee action on rescuing children in #detention #centres. They need you help in getting all 1,023 dolls out, so donate your time and raise awareness today or tomorrow (until 4pm each day).
www.chilout.org #noborders #NoOneIsIllegal

(via sprinkledwords)

#5 The Faces Of Asylum - How to get involved

theatlantic:

Using Graphic Design to Visualize the Aftermath of Genocide and War

Following the killing of 800,000 Tutsis in Rwanda in 1994, 2,257,573 refugees (40 percent of the population) took asylum in 36 countries. In 2012 when Tuareg rebels in Mali captured Timbuktu after an army coup, 297,552 refugees (2 percent of the population) settled in 28 asylum countries. These are just a fraction of the world’s refugee population being documented on a dynamic new website, The Refugee Project, an example of how graphic designers increasingly are turning their attention to framing data that stimulates action.
While data visualization will not end the refugee problem, the designers at Brooklyn-based graphics firm Hyperakt think they can make some difference by developing a tool that decision makers can use to advocate for humanitarian relief.
“Our own lack of knowledge about the millions of people around the world who have been forced to leave their homelands led us to want to tackle this story,” Deroy Peraza, Hyperakt’s creative director, said. “We thought it would be very helpful to visualize and compare all the refugee crises happening around the world—and not just for this year, but over time. We also wanted to have an understanding of the causes behind massive migrations.”
Read more. [Image: The Refugee Project]

theatlantic:

Using Graphic Design to Visualize the Aftermath of Genocide and War

Following the killing of 800,000 Tutsis in Rwanda in 1994, 2,257,573 refugees (40 percent of the population) took asylum in 36 countries. In 2012 when Tuareg rebels in Mali captured Timbuktu after an army coup, 297,552 refugees (2 percent of the population) settled in 28 asylum countries. These are just a fraction of the world’s refugee population being documented on a dynamic new website, The Refugee Project, an example of how graphic designers increasingly are turning their attention to framing data that stimulates action.

While data visualization will not end the refugee problem, the designers at Brooklyn-based graphics firm Hyperakt think they can make some difference by developing a tool that decision makers can use to advocate for humanitarian relief.

“Our own lack of knowledge about the millions of people around the world who have been forced to leave their homelands led us to want to tackle this story,” Deroy Peraza, Hyperakt’s creative director, said. “We thought it would be very helpful to visualize and compare all the refugee crises happening around the world—and not just for this year, but over time. We also wanted to have an understanding of the causes behind massive migrations.”

Read more. [Image: The Refugee Project]

Chronicle of an asylum seeker's death foretold

(Source: insufficientmind, via sprinkledwords)

jessicaellenoriley:

The Refugee Action Collective and the ASRC put out an urgent message late last night that three asylum seeker families were being deported from Broadmeadows Detention Centre to Christmas Island. The families had arrived after July 2013, and were being denied the right to seek asylum in Australia. Amongst them were babies and people with serious illnesses and conditions.

Given the extremely short notice, to have 50+ people from different groups assembled in the outer suburbs in the dark of the morning was impressive. But it brought organisational challenges, and differences in deciding the style the picket would take. We reached a compromise by allowing cars past the picket on a case by case basis, vetting each vehicle to ensure they weren’t secretly carrying a family to the airport.

One protester regularly visits asylum seekers in the centre and was an invaluable liaison with the staff. When vans with children tried to leave the centre she was allowed to enter the premises to ask the kids if they were going to school. It was heartbreaking to see children - normal, innocent children -  waving as they were taken out for the day, as if they were criminals.

At about 7.30am, the police arrived and asked us to allow the workers to pass uninterrupted through the gates. The constable insisted that we had his (rather sexist) “gentleman’s agreement” that the 13 asylum seekers would not leave the centre that day. The families we were trying to help had “missed their flight”. 

We were reluctant to move, as we knew the flight would be chartered and might be rescheduled at any time. Contacts inside the centre told us that the families had been unloaded from their bus, but were being held in the visitor’s centre with their luggage for the last hour, blinds drawn, not allowed back to their rooms.

It was a harsh learning curve for some, myself included, that the officer’s “gentleman’s agreement” proved to be worth nothing. At 11am the police announced that the refugee families would be leaving the centre, and if we didn’t move on we would be blocking the premises and under threat of arrest. Our picket remained, but the CIRT drove around to the back gate, where a smaller group of protesters was broken up.

At the front gate it was announced that the families had left the centre and were en route to the airport and Christmas Island.

We were bitterly disappointed, but as a text from our contact at the ASRC assured me: “At least they know someone cares.”