I am moved to write an article about Indigenous or Black deaths in custody. I worked in the prison system as a female officer in a maximum security prison so I feel I have some right to speak on this topic.
I had quite a number of indigenous inmates under my supervision and care. Yes, I call it care because I did care. As a white, rather small female, I probably should never have worked in a place like that but I thought I could make a difference and I did actually need the money.
So here are my observations from my time working in that prison with prisoners who were indigenous, white, asian and all manner of things in between.
We didn’t call indigenous prisoners “ black “ back then. It would have been considered racist. In fact, we didn’t call them aboriginal because that might have caused offence.
I didn’t call them anything other than their name because I suffer from a thing called colour blindness. Not like the colour blindness my Uncle had, no, his was where he could not tell the difference between brown and purple, things like that. He bought a crimpolene suit back in the 70’s which he maintained was a lovely shade of brown but was an intense purple, much to our horror.
My colour blindness has always been something that does not see the colour of a person’s skin, but the colour of his heart.
I “ looked after “ some mongrels in my time in the prison. Some were black, some white, some shades in between. To me , they were all judged by the colour of their hearts. And it served me well. With the prisoners, if not with some of my fellow officers.
There was an indigenous prisoner doing time for rape and incest. And other very violent crimes. His young nephew was admitted for crimes of burglary and arson. The “ powers that be “ ensured that this young man was put in with his uncle . The reasoning being that he should be kept close to his family ties.?)
It didn’t really work out that well for the young guy. He was raped by his Uncle every night. Nothing was done to change this, despite my repeated expression of outrage.
I can say, hand on heart, that I never saw anyone in prison that was there because they were black. Or white. Or asian. Or muslim. They were there because they had committed a crime.
If anything, indigenous prisoners were treated with greater latitude than any others.
Black Lives Matter is one of the most idiotic catch phrases ever created. I could promote “ Unborn Lives Matter “ or, as Pauline Hanson tried to say “ White Lives Matter. “
But, let’s be fair. As far as the Left are concerned, the real catchphrase is
“ No Life Matters unless it is Ours. “
After this week of ridiculous protests , which are really RIOTS , be under no illusion.
YOUR Life does not matter.
And neither does mine. And neither does George Floyd’s. And neither does any other life except THEIRS.
Until we accept that and work out who “ THEY “ are, we will continue to see Indigenous lives, Caucasian Lives, Older Lives, Lives yet to be lived, all sacrificed on the altar of the Leftist Agenda that has one aim and one aim only.
To destroy us all and USE Black Lives to carry out their goal and their goal is nothing more than abuse of Power and Abuse of us. As white people, as black people, as old people, young people, this is an abuse of power.
We need to get back to Nation Building and stop, please, allowing the purple crimpolene suit of colour blindness being used as an excuse. Because these people are not colour blind. They KNOW it is a purple suit made of synthetic outrage that they are trying to sell as a quality garment.
Even my colour blind Uncle wouldn’t have fallen for that trick. Why are we?
Is this all about stripping cultural identity? No longer Maori? No longer Fijian? No longer Negro? No longer Hispanic? No longer Indigenous Australian? No longer belonging to a cultural identity but all under a Global umbrella of Race. With no CULTURAL identity? That frightens me.
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