I had no real plans for the day, aside from a bit of house-cleaning, reading and some catch-up TV. It’s been a busy week at work, and I have another busy one ahead of me. On top of that, there’s the possibility of the Federal Election being called tomorrow which will involve some time in at work also. So my big plan for day was to do nothing much at all.
But then half way through the morning, I got a text message from my friend Kate. She had also woken up with no major plans for the day, but had a sudden desire to catch the train from Newcastle to Sydney to indulge in a bit of a gallery-hopping. She was keen to see the world press photography exhibition at the State Library, the Jeff Wall exhibition at the MCA, any other current exhibitions the AGNSW and White Rabbit before they close. I’d already seen the current exhibitions at the MCA and AGNSW, and so Kate and I met mid-afternoon at the State Library.
Although I’ve enjoyed the exhibition many times in the past, I wasn’t really in the right mind-frame today for the world press photography exhibition. I understand it’s “press photography”, and the subject matter is often very grim and uncomfortable. But as I walked around the exhibition today, I couldn’t help but feel the exhibition lacked some balance in the subject-matter. In contrast, to the death, destruction and unhappiness of the lives of those in the world press photography exhibition, the neighbouring exhibition, “Black On White” (which featured photographs of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people) showed the variety of human experience with moments of happiness, joy, and humour and as well as anger and sadness.
I was also really blown away by some the current works at White Rabbit, the gallery which specialises in contemporary art from China. In particular, there were two fantastic works which I really loved.
There’s a large installation made by Zhou Jie, which portrays the CBD of Beijing. The work is made entirely from porcelain.Under Heaven by MadeIn Company aka Xu Zhen. I also really loved the work created by MadeIn Company, aka Xu Zhen. It’s a multi-layer work where the paint has been applied using piping cones (not paint-brushes).
I always love visiting White Rabbit, because of the imagination, high-level craft skills, and boldness of the works they feature.
Later, as we planned to have a quiet bite to eat at our favourite Sichuan restaurant, Red Chilli we had an amusing co-incidence. As we walked into the restaurant, at the same time I locked eyes with a radio colleague, Kate locked eyes with a businessman (and his father) Kate knows from Beijing. As it turns out, they were with each other, and so we ended up all of us having a wonderful meal together. Surprise!
The words hung in the air, powerful and poignant. ‘My support worker is my pair of hands. They’re an extension of my body,’ Emily Dash, actor, writer, and disability advocate, told the ‘Driving Change’ symposium on its second day. I sat in the audience, reflecting on how those words resonated with my own experience.
For a few months following my lower right leg amputation last year, I relied on NDIS support workers for basic tasks like tidying up and grocery shopping. While my needs were temporary and less extensive than Emily’s, that period gave me a glimpse into the crucial role support workers play in enabling people with disabilities to live full and independent lives. It also highlighted the importance of recognizing these individuals not just as caregivers, but as integral partners in navigating the world.
That’s Emily on the far right of this panel
Emily’s powerful statement underscored the need for greater accessibility and inclusion within the film industry, a topic that was central to the symposium. The presence of support workers on set is crucial for providing personal care, but true inclusion requires a deeper understanding of access needs. This is where Access Coordinators come in. These professionals act as advocates for everyone on set, ensuring that the environment is welcoming and safe, regardless of an individual’s abilities. They assess physical accessibility, communication needs, and potential sensory sensitivities, making adjustments to create a truly inclusive space.
‘You don’t want to get a reputation as a difficult person,’ Emily shared, explaining why many with disabilities hesitate to speak up about their support needs. The emergence of Access Coordinators is a crucial step towards normalizing these conversations and fostering a culture where everyone feels comfortable voicing their requirements. By proactively addressing access needs, we can move away from the stigma often associated with requesting support and create a more equitable and inclusive industry. Hopefully, the growing presence of Access Coordinators, spearheaded by major film corporations, will lead to greater involvement of people with disabilities in all aspects of filmmaking and television production.
The small screen panel which include Nas (second from right) and Elly (far right(
This need for authentic representation was echoed by my ABC colleague, Nas Campanella, during a panel discussion on disability in the media. ‘Not all of us want to be Paralympians,’ she joked, emphasizing the limited and often stereotypical portrayal of people with disabilities on Australian television. While acknowledging the incredible achievements of fellow panelist and Paralympic champion Ellie Cole, Nas highlighted the importance of showcasing the diverse range of experiences and talents within the disability community.
Nas herself has been a trailblazer. As the first blind newsreader at Triple J, she challenged preconceptions and paved the way for others. Initially, listeners were unaware of her vision impairment. When she did share her story, the focus, she noted, was often on the assistive technology she used. She also referenced the late Elaine Harris, another vision-impaired announcer at the ABC, with whom I briefly worked in Canberra, highlighting the scarcity of such representation even within a public broadcaster. Since then, Nas has become a powerful advocate for disability news coverage and building internal support networks within the ABC.
Ellie Cole offered a fascinating perspective on the evolving public perception of Paralympic athletes. She described the limited media interest during her first Games in Beijing in 2008, the growing attention in London 2012, and the significant increase in subsequent years. This shift, she believes, stems from the ‘human, relatable stories’ that are often at the forefront of Paralympic coverage, providing a powerful counterpoint to the often-singular focus on athleticism in traditional Olympic coverage.
While acknowledging the progress made, the conference also confronted the stark reality of underrepresentation in advertising. Despite people with disabilities comprising up to 20% of the population, they appear in less than 1% of advertisements. This disparity reflects a fear of failure, a fear of ‘getting it wrong and being cancelled,’ as one panelist put it. This fear, while understandable, perpetuates harmful stereotypes and reinforces exclusion.
Fortunately, there are resources and guidelines available to help advertisers create authentic and inclusive campaigns. Organizations like the Unstereotype Alliance, whose representative spoke at the conference, are actively working to promote diversity and inclusion in advertising. Their research demonstrates a clear link between diverse representation and increased sales, both short-term and long-term. Authenticity resonates with consumers, and advertisements that reflect the true diversity of our society are simply more effective.
Some of my ABC colleagues attending the conference, including Peter Tonagh (back row in the middle) who is Chair of Bus Stop Films (which organised the conference) and Deputy Chair of the ABC.
The key, another panelist emphasized, is to include people with disabilities in the decision-making and creative process. This ensures that their perspectives and experiences are genuinely reflected, minimizing the risk of misrepresentation and tokenism.
As the two-day conference drew to a close, my colleagues and I gathered, exhausted yet exhilarated. We were buzzing with ideas about how we, at the ABC, could contribute to a more inclusive media landscape. We left with a renewed commitment to increase the number of people with disabilities you see, hear, and read about on our platforms. This isn’t just about ticking boxes; it’s about reflecting the true face of Australia and ensuring that everyone feels seen, heard, and valued.
I had a big lump of lamb for the second time in three days today. The first time was at dinner the other night. The second time was for lunch today. And my goodness, it tasted good.
I was invited to a mate’s place for lunch today. We often have a meal together on a Sunday, though it’s been a few months (obviously) since we’ve done that. We get together, we listen to some music, chat about our lives, and have some really good tucker together.
And today it was lamb. “I know you like it a bit raw”, he said, when I commented on how tasty it was. And added to the lamb was some mint jelly. And there was a side dish of cauliflower, beans and carrots.
It’s been a warm day in Sydney, one of the hottest so far this year, according to the news.
So after lunch I walked back from my mate’s place at Centennial Park via Oxford Street (Paddington), down through Darlinghurst, and then along Crown Street back towards home. It’s such a beautiful time of the year in Sydney.
Nothing much to report from tonight aside from a bit of television watching (don’t ask me what I’ve seen, because nothing was memorable), a bit of computer surfing, and some chatting on the phone. Don’t you hate it, though, when you ring your family and get voice mail? “Where are they?”, I thought to myself.
I didn’t expect to see half a dozen people arriving at the door of our house in South Lismore today. I’m home helping clean up our family home which has been devastated by the record-breaking flood which saw water reach up to two metres inside the two-story house. We’re not alone, there are maybe 2,000 houses in Lismore which have seen similar devastation. Likely more.
Today’s volunteers included a couple from Byon Bay, a bloke from the Gold Coast, three young people who I learned were also from the Gold Coast, and members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. There were no airs and graces. No sense of “pity”. They were all wonderful people who happily did anything we needed help with. We were also joined by a bunch of Michelle’s colleagues, all nurses or working in the nursing area at Lismore Base Hospital.
Gold Coast and Byron Volunteers
They did everything from ripping up carpet, lino and floor tiles, to washing dishes and photographs. They were all happy to do some of the more physical work such as pulling down once-fashionable wall panelling. There were also people who came to our door with food, wraps, coffee, chocolate. The community response has been amazing.
Friends of my seventeen-year-old nephew visited yesterday to help, and in mud left behind a wonderful wish for everyone.
Pat and Jack have lived in the house since 1969, and ripping up the carpet and lino provided me with a flashback to times past. There were four layers of lino/tiles in the kitchen, including some layers that might attract good prices in hipster furniture stores. There was also carpet and underlay that simply fell apart.
Lots of my own childhood memories are in this house, including this toy car.. In the background, the large piles of rubbish.
We’re not alone in this. There are probably thousands of homes in Lismore going through the same thing as us. And in other towns too.
View from an open (smashed by floodwaters) window in South Lismore.
“Is there much difference between the two legs?” I asked my massage therapist today. Since it was my first time having a massage from him, I expected him to be honest.
Despite living in my apartment block for several years, we only met a few months ago when I was discarding my bike, or rather, when my friend Michaela was doing so for me. Given my lower limb amputation, we anticipated it would be a while before I could ride a bike again, as I lacked both balance and strength. As Michaela was leaving the bike as a gift to the universe, he noticed what she was doing and took it off her hands.
Aside from the obvious, he told me that there wasn’t much difference between the two legs in terms of strength. “You could do some more work on your glutes, but couldn’t we all,” he joked.
In Surry Hills, we’re fortunate to have a variety of local massage therapists offering Thai Massage, and I usually visit them purely for relaxation purposes about half a dozen times each year.
However, now that I have a “medical issue,” I thought it would be a good idea to see someone regularly, someone who could become familiar with my body and keep an eye out for any potential issues that might require further attention from my physiotherapist. I informed him of this ahead of today’s first session.
Wednesday is my “health day,” dedicated to medical appointments and such. Besides the massage and a coffee with a friend, I also went for a swim today.
“Swimming” might be an exaggeration, though. More accurately, I splashed around a bit in the hydrotherapy pool at nearby Cook & Phillip. Although I can manage a little bit of backstroke, I don’t yet have the necessary strength to resume freestyle swimming. My physiotherapist and I have discussed how we might approach that, and most likely, I’ll take some swimming lessons.
As I sat in the pool, I glanced over at the legs of the nearby lifeguard. “He has good legs,” I thought to myself. They were nicely shaped, lightly tanned, a nice covering of body hair, and with some muscle but not too much. “I hope he doesn’t think I’m perving on him,” I wondered. Then, I looked down at my own legs. As I did, I noticed the refraction of the light in the water made the difference between my two legs all the more obvious.
I’ve always thought I had quite good legs, and the massage therapist today commented on my calf muscles in particular. As I compared the images, I never felt sad or anything about having lost about a third of my right leg. I just thought, “they’re different.” I still think I have nice legs.
Probably because I was surrounded by school kids at the pool, my mind wandered back to my own childhood and games like hopscotch, the three-legged race, and learning how to stand on one leg. I wondered to what extent these games might have been preparing us for later life and the possibility of losing a limb. And then I remembered that song from my childhood from “Sesame Street” where they sang about having two eyes, two arms etc. They probably don’t sing it anymore, but it has fond memories for me.
I also thought about all those wedding photographs in the period after World War I where the men were often seated while the women stood, reflecting the fact that many men lost their legs in WW1 due to bombs. If you consider history and look around the world, so many people have experienced what I’m experiencing right now, albeit in different circumstances.
There’s a bloke I see regularly back in Sydney who I’ve nick-named “The You’re Beautiful Guy”. I often see him walking to and from work, usually in the Devonshire Street tunnel. I suspect he may have a slight intellectual disability. Joyfully, he walks along telling people that Jesus loves them, and that “they’re beautiful”.
For a brief moment today I thought I’d turned into that guy. As I walked around Stockholm, I kept saying (to myself under my breath) “gosh it’s beautiful”.
It was a truly stunning day in the city. Even though the winds were a little strong, causing the lake to be a little choppy, the sun was warm and there was a lovely vibe around the city. When I checked for the temperature at about 4.30 this afternoon, my phone told me it was fifteen degrees. “That can’t be right”, I thought to myself. But compared with when I was last here a couple of weeks ago, the snow and ice have all but disappeared (though part of the lake nearby remains iced over in the parts), and people aren’t as heavily dressed.
So for me it’s been a day of relaxing, wandering around, sitting in the sun for a while to read a book and to listen to some music. It’s nice to be back. I’m sure I’ll get around to something “productive” some stage later in the week, but right now, it’s nice just to “hang out”.
I also realised today I only have two or three weeks left of travelling. Having now “relaxed” into my holiday, I’m not sure if I’m ready to go home yet.
Also, I suspect the guy I’m renting this apartment from may need to get an eviction order to remove me at the end of my stay here :)
Continuing my “Eurovision Countdown” and highlighting another wonderful song and performance. And highlighting something which I wish there was more of in modern Eurovision: songs in languages other than English. This song is awesome, and was easily my favourite from 2007. Marija Šerifović from Serbia. There’s an English language version, too, but in my opinion, it lacks the passion of this.
