NAIDOC Week 2025: Keeping Indigenous culture alive with art
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SBS Australia
2 hours ago
- SBS Australia
Jessica regrets not allowing her mother to be a part of her children's lives
If you spend more time cursing a family member than enjoying time with them, should you sever that relationship? Insight looks at what drives us to cut ties and asks if it's always a good idea. Watch episode Cutting Ties Tuesday 8 July on SBS at 8.30PM or live on SBS On Demand . Jessica is devastated she will never be able to reconcile with her mother. Her parents split when Jessica was three years old. She grew up in her father's care but also spent time with her mother, who lived with schizophrenia . "I always knew that my life was different than my friends' lives, because their mum didn't think they were Jesus. "Their mum didn't think that the government were going to come and kill her." At 17, Jessica started living with her mother full-time. They lived at a boarding house and spent time in transitional housing, before they eventually moved into public housing . Jessica says her mother threatened her family when she was in her late twenties. "I didn't want my children to think that a cycle of abuse is normal, and I wanted to be that person to break that cycle," she said. Jessica decided it was time to take legal action. "Initially, I got a five-year intervention order and moved to Warrnambool — three hours from Melbourne — so that I could be in a different jurisdiction to take out an intervention order, so she wouldn't find out where I was." Although she considered it necessary, Jessica feels guilt and embarrassment about the decision — and now questions whether it was the right thing to do. A chance reunion Kathryn was estranged from her father for 15 years. Her parents divorced when she was about nine; she and her brother would split their week between their parents' two houses in the same country town for the next three years. When she was 12, Kathryn wanted to live with her dad full-time, but Kathryn says he didn't want that. She feels this rejection and other childhood trauma had long-lasting impacts on her mental health. "I was terrified of seeing him. I had a hard time being out in public and pretty strong social anxiety. I lived in fear of seeing him, basically," she said. Kathryn moved to Melbourne when she was 17. On a trip home to visit her mum when Kathryn was 27, her worst fears were realised. "I'd missed a train, so I just went to the pub to grab a beer because I had to wait for an hour for another one ... And he was there, with a beer as well." It was the first time she'd had any contact with him in 15 years. "The picture I had in my mind [of him] was something so different to what I saw in front of me," Kathryn said. "I saw someone who seemed sad and lost ... just a bloke at the pub, having a beer." The two sat down and chatted for the next hour. They exchanged phone numbers. "It was difficult, but it was almost a relief because he wasn't the monster I had imagined," Kathryn said. 'I would have been five feet under' When Jennifer made the decision to come out as a trans woman, she didn't understand what she stood to lose. "I think I'm quite an intelligent person, but it was naïve," Jennifer said. Married for 40 years, Jennifer and her wife have three adult sons. She says that the relationship with her family deteriorated and contact with them ceased. Jennifer says her relationship with several family members deteriorated when she came out as trans. She says that, although coming out had the consequences it did, she needed to do it. "If I had not have done it, I would have been five feet under," Jennifer said. Mending severed ties Jennifer says that, after six years of silence, one of her sons phoned her one day, which led to them rebuilding their relationship. "I'm now very close with him and his two daughters," Jennifer told Insight. "I think getting that phone call and going out for that meal — reconnecting and getting together with my two beautiful granddaughters — is the best thing that could have happened. "And I love all my three boys and grandchildren. And not being able to have contact with them breaks my heart ... The same with my wife." Like Jennifer, Kathryn has also had a partial reconciliation with a family member with whom ties were once severed. Since that chance meeting in a pub after missing the train, Kathryn and her father have maintained an ongoing relationship. "I decided to stay in touch," Kathryn said. However, she says that maintaining strong boundaries with her dad is critical for her. They occasionally text and see each other once or twice a year. "When I see him, I remember that once upon a time, he was my dad who loved me. I loved him. "I think we still do love each other. And it's not so scary anymore." Living with regret Jessica never had the opportunity to reconcile with her mother. When the five-year intervention order she took out against her mother expired, they tried to mend their relationship. But it soon soured. "She began using drugs like cocaine. Her behaviour became extremely erratic and aggressive again," Jess said. She decided it was necessary to take out another intervention order, which was granted. Jessica and her late mother. Source: Supplied Last year, Jessica's mother died from a combination of mixed drug toxicity and alcohol. Jessica feels a sense of responsibility and has unanswered questions. She questions if her mother would be dead had they reconciled successfully. "Would she have felt that need in her life — to be that excessive — if I was there, and if her grandchildren were there? "Honestly, I think she would be alive still if I was in her life. And I think that's the part that I regret."
ABC News
4 hours ago
- ABC News
Australian survivor marks 20 years since London's 7/7 terrorist attacks
After Gill Hicks was rescued from the wreckage of a tube train following London's 7/7 terrorist attacks in 2005, she was so severely injured her hospital identification wristband read, "One unknown — estimated female". "Becoming Gill again has been a really interesting quest over 20 years," she tells the ABC after arriving back in London from Adelaide for commemorations marking the 20th anniversary of that devastating day. "It's been 20 years of finding the threads of who I once was and 20 years of discovering who I am now." Back in 2005, Ms Hicks, then aged 37, was working as the head curator at the Design Council in London. On July 7, she was on her way to work during the morning rush hour when a suicide bomber targeted her carriage as it travelled between King's Cross and Russell Square. In what was a coordinated terrorist attack, another three suicide bombers detonated devices on two more underground trains and a bus, killing 52 people and injuring more than 700. The Australian remembers using her scarf as a tourniquet around what was left of her legs to try to stop the bleeding while she waited for help to arrive. She was the last survivor to be pulled from the smoke-filled carriage about an hour after the blast. "My life was saved as 'one unknown', and it didn't matter if I was Gill Hicks or who I was, the efforts that people went to, to give their all to save this 'one unknown', that's shaped me," Ms Hicks says. "And they're things I take away from London, that on that day in the aftermath, I was loved unconditionally as a human being." Ms Hicks says she can't believe it has been 20 years since the attacks. Life with two prosthetics, intense pain and hearing loss means she is reminded of what happened daily. "There's something for me that I think about a lot, which is time isn't a healer," she says. But there is also great joy in her life — thanks to her family, friends, peace advocacy work, and the arts. As well as returning to London for official anniversary commemorations, Ms Hicks is in the city to perform her multi-award-winning show, wryly titled Still Alive (And Kicking)!. She launched the show, which "explores the wonder of knowing life through facing death", at the Adelaide Fringe Festival in 2021 and has also performed it at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Two days after the 7/7 anniversary she will take to the stage of London's Wilton's Music Hall for one night only. "I feel like this is the performance of a lifetime in many ways," Ms Hicks says. "Because of the audience. The audience will be the first responders, the people that saved my life." Performing, she says, makes her "feel free". "The greatest loss [since the 7/7 bombings] isn't necessarily both legs; the greatest loss has been a sense of freedom … but what the arts has given me is those little moments of feeling free. And there is nothing like it. "So, when I'm on the stage, I am me and I'm free. When I'm singing, I'm part of that music and it's greater than bliss. It's what I keep living for." Relationships are important too — especially those Ms Hicks has formed with the people who saved her life. "They're my family, they're extraordinary," she says. "And I just saw Tracy [Russell], who was my first responder in the carriage that morning, last night … and it feels like sitting down with your sister because it's a person that knows you inside out, and we can finish each other's sentences and all of those sorts of special things that I absolutely feel are lifelong bonds. "We're not defined by the July 7 bombings, but by our shared humanity, by our incredible connection, and now we've got 20 years [of friendship]." Ms Russell will be a candle bearer at a service of commemoration to mark the 20th anniversary of the London bombings at St Paul's Cathedral. As Ms Hicks waited for paramedics that July morning in the tube wreckage, she made what she describes as a "contract" with herself — that if she survived, she would make life count. Over the past two decades, she has become a fierce advocate for global peace and combatting extremism, a motivational speaker, an author, an artist, a performer, partner to Karl, and mother to daughter Amelie — but she says she still has so much more to achieve. "I haven't had enough time to do all the things I want to do to make the impact I want to make, to leave the footprint that I want to leave," she says. Ms Hicks counts two letters from people who have heard her speak over the years as symbols of her success. Both told her she had changed their lives. Those letters now sit on her desk back at home in Adelaide as reminders that her advocacy for peace and zest for life matter. Ms Hicks says she doesn't know how she is going to feel at today's anniversary commemorations, but she does know this: instead of thinking of the brutality of the 7/7 bombings, she will be focusing on the brilliance of life after it.
SBS Australia
17 hours ago
- SBS Australia
NAIDOC Week 2025: Keeping Indigenous culture alive with art
Independent news and stories connecting you to life in Australia and Nepali-speaking Australians. Stories about women of Nepali heritage in Australia who are about to become parents.
