In search of victimhood

A reflection from my wife …

The world is changing and I must adapt.

For about the first thirteen years of my life our family played a game called “Not Like Them”. I was reminded daily why we were different (read: better) than our neighbours. We didn’t wear plastic sandals. We had proper lunch boxes, not sandwiches wrapped in repurposed sugar bags. And more.

Of course we weren’t aware that in other ways we were different; ways my mother didn’t want to highlight because they meant we weren’t better.

This comparing took a distinct and particular aspect. It was always about being the best, or at least being seen to be the best. The “them” in our game were the unfortunates, the poor who lived in dirty houses, the kids whose parents didn’t know how to keep house, or wash, or sew.

But now our planet has tilted somewhat. Perhaps it could be said that the world I now inhabit has been turned on its head.

Because we are playing a different game and it’s called “Victimhood”. A race to get to the bottom. Not better than others; we only win if we can prove we are worse off. A victim.

A woman, aged, poor, indigenous, abused, with mental health issues, drug dependency, hidden acquired brain injury, gender dysphoria, gay, lesbian, or trans, on the spectrum, a victim of colonialism, or a tradie who can’t afford to pay his mortgage. Turn over these life cards and you’ll surely be a winner. 

It’s a game I do not want to participate in. The pastime of playing “Not Like Them” which involved looking down our noses at our neighbours, wasn’t very nice either. Is there another way? 

Can we recognise the challenges each and every person faces because of who they are or what life situation they’re in? Can we give a helping hand or a compliment? Can we live together differently because we are all unique? Can we honour one another as we stand together on a podium, not at the bottom?