When Celebration and Grief Sit in the Same Room

I reshared a LinkedIn post about a program I care deeply about.

Afterwards, I felt physically unwell.

Seeing public celebration while my own situation remains legally unresolved stirred something tender and confronting inside me.

I have been professionally invested in this institution since August 2001.

For more than two decades, I have contributed leadership, care, intellectual labour, and steady commitment to staff and students. I have supported programs, built relationships, mentored colleagues, and carried responsibility seriously.

That contribution does not disappear.

I am still part of that work.

The relationships.

The students.

The staff I support.

The long hours of care, strategy and responsibility.

There is a legally binding injury management framework connected to my employment.

There are statutory obligations that continue to exist.

I never resigned from my professional identity.

I never withdrew my commitment to a safe and lawful return.

Yet while celebration moves forward publicly, I remain in a process seeking basic compliance with obligations that were meant to protect me.

That reality has been deeply harmful.

It is difficult to describe what it feels like to devote decades of professional service, to uphold values of dignity and fairness, and then to find yourself navigating procedural failures that destabilise your health, income and sense of safety.

The grief is not abstract.

It sits in the body.

It tightens the chest.

It brings a wave of nausea that feels disproportionate to a simple LinkedIn post — until you remember what it represents.

It is the grief of knowing your contribution was real — and feeling the weight of how governance decisions have affected you.

When I reshared that post, it wasn’t endorsement.

It was presence.

A quiet way of saying:

I am still here.

I contribute.

My work matters.

I am not seeking applause.

I am not seeking public vindication.

I am seeking statutory compliance.

Structured restoration.

A return-to-work pathway that is safe, medically informed, and consistent with the law.

Nothing more.

Nothing extraordinary.

Just what already exists in legislation and agreement.

Celebration may be public.

Compliance is not optional.

Contribution does not vanish because it is inconvenient.

I remain present.

I remain professional.

And I will continue to pursue resolution through lawful, measured, and transparent means — until compliance is not aspirational, but actual.

Grief casts long shadows.

So does commitment.

See also http://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2026/02/in-memory-of-great-teacher-legacy.html

In Memory of a Great Teacher: Legacy, Conscience, and Lent

This reflection includes themes of grief, faith, and institutional harm. It is offered gently, in the spirit of Lent.

On 4 February 2026, a highly respected and inspiring teacher from my high school, Mr Steve Donlan, passed away.

Like many former students of Bethany College, I received the news with deep sadness — and with gratitude. I’m grateful for the teachers who shaped not only my education, but my sense of dignity, responsibility, and hope for a life of service beyond the “safety” of school.

In a letter sent to Bethany families the following day, the College described Mr Donlan as “a passionate educator” whose impact on students over decades was “immeasurable.” He was remembered as a mentor, an advocate, and a pastoral presence for generations of young women — someone who gave generously of his time to ensure students’ needs were met, both academically and emotionally.

Those words are beautiful.

And they are true.

⸻

Part I — A Legacy Beyond the Classroom

At Bethany, teachers like Mr Donlan did more than teach subjects. They formed people.

They cultivated courage. They recognised potential and called it forward. They encouraged leadership, intellectual confidence, and moral seriousness. Students were guided to imagine lives shaped not by fear, but by service — lives grounded in conscience and the belief that education exists to uphold human dignity.

As a student, I was known affectionately by teachers as “St Vicki of Bourbous.” That nickname was not about piety. It reflected leadership, conviction, and a willingness to stand up for others. Those qualities were not accidental. They were patiently and deliberately nurtured by educators who believed in the inherent worth of the person before them.

Mr Donlan was part of that fabric.

His influence did not end at graduation. Some of the students he once taught went on to become teachers themselves. Some returned to schools like Bethany as early-career educators — guided, mentored, and supported by people like him. His legacy lived on not only in students, but in the teachers he helped form.

This is the quiet, enduring power of a great educator: a life that continues to shape others long after the classroom door has closed.

⸻

Part II — Lent, Conscience, and the Demands of Justice

This loss has compelled a deeper examination of conscience.

For more than two decades, my adult life has been devoted to Catholic education and higher education. As an academic librarian, I served clients in the Schools of Educational Leadership and Education, supporting the formation of future teachers, principals, and religious educators — many of whom would go on to serve in Catholic and other Christian schools. My family’s relationship with Catholic education spans decades and has long been characterised by service, trust, and mutual respect.

It is precisely because of this history that the moral dissonance I now experience cannot be ignored.

The Catholic tradition teaches that institutions, no less than individuals, are bound by moral law. 

Catholic social teaching affirms the inherent dignity of every person, the preferential protection of the vulnerable, the primacy of conscience, and the obligation of justice — not only in intention, but in action.

Where harm has occurred, the Church’s own teaching is clear:

justice requires truth, accountability, and restitution.

Words alone are insufficient.

Lent is not a symbolic season.

It is a call to conversion.

It asks whether power has been exercised in fidelity to the Gospel, or whether institutional self-protection has displaced moral responsibility. It asks whether systems intended to serve the common good have instead caused harm — and whether those with authority are willing to name that harm honestly.

In my lived experience, actions taken by Catholic institutions fell gravely short of the values they professed to teach. The impact on my life and on my family was profound. I state this not to inflame, but to bear truthful witness — because silence in the face of injustice is itself a moral failure.

The Catechism reminds us that theft is not limited to material property alone, and that restitution is an obligation of justice, not charity. Where dignity has been stripped away, repair is not optional. Without repair, there can be no genuine reconciliation.

As the Church enters the Lenten journey, this moment demands more than reflection. It demands moral courage. It demands listening. And it demands action consistent with the Gospel proclaimed.

The example of educators like Mr Steve Donlan — who lived their vocation quietly, faithfully, and with integrity — stands as a moral measure against which institutional conduct must be examined. His legacy exposes the distance between what is taught within the safety of a school community and what is sometimes practised beyond it.

⸻

Truth, Repentance, and Hope

This reflection is offered in memory of a great teacher.

It is also offered as an appeal to conscience — that truth be named, that harm be repaired, and that institutions formed to serve the common good once again align their conduct with the dignity they proclaim.

The promise of the Resurrection is not cheap hope.

It follows repentance.

“The truth will set you free.”

Only when truth is fully faced can healing begin.

If this reflection feels heavy, please pause, take a breath, and know that you are not alone — as we enter Lent, may what is painful be held with gentleness, and space be made for truth, repair, and hope.

Lent invites remembrance, examination of conscience, and the courage to choose truth - even when it is costly

My personal story - Part 10 - Education

“In my experience in education and society, I’ve observed that the greatest minds are the most down to earth and humble.”

Vicki Bourbous

After high school, my goal was to study at university and earn a degree. I achieved that goal, more than once. I love learning and expanding my mind. It’s my strength. It’s my gift. It’s my passion. Data becomes information. Information becomes knowledge. Knowledge is a pathway to wisdom. 

Education is not the only pathway to wisdom, and doesn’t always lead to wisdom. My maternal grandmother did not have a formal education, but she was a wise woman. Women like my grandmother are pure at heart. Through a combination of lived experience, intuition, faith, grounded values, courage, perception and other authentic qualities, especially humility, people like my yiayia reach a level of wisdom that is greater than many others who have PhD qualifications. 

It starts with humility.

In my experience within the higher education sector, regardless of academic level, such as professorship, those with the greatest minds are the most down to earth and humble. Their wisdom, beyond what they’re teaching in a unit of study, is what inspires. 

I miss the dialogue and connection with like-minded professionals, like the one I’ve shared in this post from my LinkedIn connections. This topic of discussion was from about four years ago, before the systemic abuse I encountered really escalated. 

I miss this so much. Perhaps that’s why I’m such a target from those with extreme arrogance that leads to no good, especially jealousy. I don’t know. It does, however, communicate clearly who they are: dark tetrad personalities. They have infiltrated the Australian university sector, which is why it’s resulted in a senate inquiry. The organisational culture has become rotten. Dark tetrad personalities have no place in higher education. 

This social justice battle, however, has also allowed me to connect with other leaders and warriors fighting for the same fair work conditions, human rights, dignity, safety, peace, and calling out truth to power. 

It does re-affirm my words quoted above. I’ve seen a lot more arrogance and ego (and greed) in the last few years, and far too little in the way of humility and respect. 

Bachelor of Education (Hons.) - University of Sydney

I remember my first year at university. It was a culture shock as I adjusted to life as a University of Sydney student. It included cheap food at the Manning Bar next to the newly built Faculty of Education building. It included end of semester uni parties and making lifelong friends.

It included lots of time in Fisher Library researching assignments and encountering students of all quirks and eccentricities, backgrounds and political persuasions. I still remember the smell of musty books gushing out in a whirlwind at 8am when the sliding doors of Fisher Library would open and some of us would make a beeline for the high demand room. 

I had the opportunity to study interesting subjects in the Faculty of Arts, like Anthropology. I loved the fact that our lecturers informed us the deadline for an assignment to be dropped in the assignment box was Friday 5pm, but that the office staff don’t check the box until 8am the following Monday morning (hint hint). It was a built in weekend extension. I lost weekends finalising those anthropology essays, but it earned me distinctions. The opportunity cost was worth it. 

I took Anthropology into my second year. My other elective, Psychology, was too dry and scientific. But Psychology 101 is taken up by so many first year students of all walks of life. They are spilling out of the lecture theatre in the first few months of first year university… until people start dropping off or dropping out. 

It was in such a lecture I remember someone asking the lecturer a question. Actually, this guy stood up and started Bible bashing. I was amused, others were annoyed, collectively I think many of us considered it disrespectful to the lecturer and to us as fellow students.

The reason I remember this intriguing moment is because not long after, as I and my lifelong friend from those Education studies days, were settling into a different lecture theatre in another location on campus, this time for our theoretical Education studies, that same Bible bashing guy was up the front, at the podium, and he calls out, “You Education students are a bunch of airheads.” I smiled, turned to my friend Sonia and said, “Yep, and damn proud of it.” 

My friends know I call myself an intellectual airhead. They know why. I’ve always been conscientious, passionate about lifelong learning, gifted in the humanities and social sciences (hence pursuing second year Anthropology and running a million miles away from the thought of a second year studying Psychology). But I also know I’ve been very naive, I wasn’t street wise, and needed jokes explained to me because I didn’t get the punchline the first time round. I also willingly gave people the benefit of the doubt and generally believed the world was a good place. 

Perhaps it was this combination that made me a target of abuse by those that belong in what’s been described as Dark Tetrad Personalities: Psychopaths, Narcissists, Machiavellians, and what has now been added, turning the Triad into Tetrad - Sadists. (Read more at https://psychcentral.com/pro/exhausted-woman/2015/11/the-dark-tetrad-possibly-the-scariest-boss#3).

But I’m a fast learner, and this “network” of dark tetrad personalities didn’t expect me to be strong-willed, firmly grounded in my values and choosing to fight back for the dignity of the human person and common good. They didn’t count on my level of stubbornness that my family have been fully aware of, from the day I was born. 

As a child, my stubbornness was frustrating to my family. As an adult, combined with my humanitarian values, it’s been a grace from God (He calls it Perseverance). I chose, by His Gift of Free Will, to persevere for the greater good of society. My stubbornness also saved my life through this massive ordeal over the last several years. But I have sat in the pews of churches, looked up at my Crucified Lord, and literally said, “Lord, You are testing my patience.” Perhaps there was a reason for that too. Only God knows why, and Patience is another grace. We live in a world lacking in patience. 

Going back to those uni days, fast forward to second or third year university, with more practical teaching work injected into the curriculum mix. In a Science and Technology curriculum workshop, we were tasked with making a windmill using a plastic water bottle, hot glue and a few other things. I’ll never forget the tutor telling us that, “No one has left this workshop without a working windmill.” I jokingly said to my uni friends, “He hasn’t met me yet.” 

Let’s just say, I stuffed it up (do not EVER hand me a flat pack to assemble). The tutor repeated to me, “No one has left this workshop without a working windmill,” while literally willing to give me $2 to go to the Manning Bar and buy another bottle of water. It was bad enough I stuffed up a primary school project as a training teacher. The least I could do was pay for a replacement plastic bottle. The tutor stepped in to make my working windmill, which I proudly walked around campus, holding it up and watching it spin in the breeze. 

I am, indeed, an intellectual airhead, and yes, I’m proud of it. But I think I’ll stick to my love for literature and leave the science experiments for others to handle.

Master of Information Management - University of NSW

From 2001-2003, for three years, two nights a week, 6pm-9pm, I traveled after work, from Strathfield to the UNSW campus at Kensington. I was diligently working on my Masters degree in Information Management. I enrolled part time while I worked, developed skills, experience, and a professional network of connections. 

Perhaps being on campus after business hours, and perhaps because it was postgraduate studies, I had a different relationship with my lecturers-in-charge. It was one of equity and mutual respect in this fascinating profession, especially in units of study still offered from the perspective of librarianship. 

UNSW used to offer a brilliant course in librarianship and records management. However, on 2nd December 1996, at a Council meeting, the Faculty of Professional Studies was disestablished, effective 1st January 1997.

The  Master of Information Management (MIM) was moved into the Faculty of Commerce and Economics, under the School of Information Systems, Technology and Management (SISTM) from 1998. It was from 2003 that Information Management started being phased out, making it difficult for me to find relevant electives in my final year. 

The corporate decisions within university governance to “phase out” courses, while students are still enrolled, had started happening at this time, but not in the way it’s happening now.

To finish the course, I now faced limited options. Although it wasn’t ideal, the closest elective I could find to finish, graduate and apply for a job opportunity that had come up, was Data Management. The handbook claimed there were no prerequisites to enrol, but my essay writing, humanities and social sciences brain did not agree. The lecturer-in-charge was from a computer science background. For me, watching paint dry would have been less torture and a lot more fun. Credit to those who love and are great at this information systems design stuff, I am grateful to have scraped in with a Pass after a Distinction average record. 

I worked equally hard in this unit, but I have no understanding and application for this side of information. I’m the end user, the information consumer who’d be giving feedback on systemic design, from my research on information retrieval behaviour of end users. Of course the information systems and technology geeks have made progress since then, most recently in AI. 

I’m the one who’d research how this technology impacts the retrieval and use of information, the ethical or academic issues within the higher education teaching and learning environment, among other things. 

I almost failed that data management elective, of no fault of my own. That irrelevant unit to my career almost risked a potential job opportunity that had nothing to do with data management but everything to do with qualifying by successfully finishing this degree. Therefore, if university leaders think that their decisions about course cuts, including how they manage the process (effectively or not), has no impact on fee paying students and their careers and lives, they need to think again. 

Under the Faculty of Commerce and Economics, many of the information management units focused more on information as a corporate asset and commodity. I learnt about the cost of information, how it’s used to generate competitive intelligence reports, and the concepts of information architecture and (predictably one of my favourites), the organisation of knowledge, from an intellectual and theoretical standpoint. 

Where equivalent courses in other universities focused more on information as part of library sciences, education or cultural assets, like historical archives, libraries and museums, my course was angled toward information and its importance in a corporate environment. It is a fascinating multi-dimensional, multi-disciplinary and “hybrid” profession. 

My passion for my studies at UNSW, and my hard work, paid off. I won a scholarship prize that paid for one of my units (everything helps and I had 12 units to complete for my qualification); and I received an award for my work in one of my subjects (an opportunity for my family to meet my brilliant lecturers). 

I had a mutual respect for the academic teaching staff, who had encouraged me to pursue a PhD. This was my passion, my vocation, my work. Keep all this in mind for when I share a written response from Catholic Church Insurance in about October 2021, that was cruel and ridiculous. I demanded CCI respond to my questions via IRO in writing, so the CCI “leaders” went into “fight” mode, got nasty and, well, childish in their behaviour. 

They should have just complied. I will be sharing that desperate action and written bs, when I continue that part of my story next year. I’ll link back to this post so we can see if what Catholic Church Insurance “leaders” wrote on record, is true. 

But the Minns government has a lot to answer for in their contempt for workers and employee rights and entitlements too. Especially my local MP, Chris Minns. You can’t make this stuff up, if you tried. As history proves repeatedly, “emperors” have risen, but ultimately they do fall. We are all mortal and we are all human. 

What’s lacking in Dark Tetrad Personalities is HUMILITY. And for that matter, HUMANITY. 

I paid my Masters degree upfront as I worked. My HECS debt for my Bachelors degree was paid by this time in my life too. I was contributing honourably to our Australian society. My taxes were a contribution to the public purse that I, like others, trusted government leaders to use efficiently and with transparency, where it was needed. I never expected this level of disrespect and greed from our current government in a democratic society, especially from the current Minns government of NSW. I haven’t cost the government a cent in my life, but I found myself in a situation where the government was costing me … EVERYTHING. 

I was never going to allow the Minns government to get away with such serious mismanagement of public money, where our taxes were not enough. That we cannot avoid death and taxes is true. But for many of us, the Minns government tried to take everything we worked for beyond our due diligence of paying taxes, and then send us to our death.

I was not going to let that happen. 

Graduate Certificate of Higher Education - Australian Catholic University

ACU was a university where leaders were committed to its Mission and Identity. In 2007-2008 I had the opportunity to enrol and study part-time for the GCHE, alongside my academic colleagues. It was a great opportunity to apply my knowledge in both Education and Information Management to teaching and learning design within the higher education sector. 

It was also a great opportunity to be part of an online academic learning forum, and for building connections and future collaborations with my academic clients. The GCHE gave me insight into theoretical frameworks underpinning higher education teaching and learning in various environments.

I worked with brilliant academic staff. The memorable ones embodied humility and kindness. They were the Mission and Identity. 

See http://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2025/01/quality-staff-and-university-leaders.html and http://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2025/07/prohibited-workplace-surveillance.html.

What went wrong with those appointed to govern the university? Where are all these repeated WHS hazards and incidents of offensive abuse mentioned in policies aligned to legislation, the code of conduct for ALL staff and the Identity and Mission? 

See http://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2025/10/its-what-you-do-that-defines-who-we-are.html, http://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2025/07/intimidating-family-as-community.html and http://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2025/02/questions-i-would-like-to-ask-my.html.

How is this serious misconduct from senior executives an example of respect and dignity, and acknowledging the huge contribution I have made for the benefit of my university community, since August 2001? 

Accountability must finally happen. Apart from my own volume of records, gathering the information I was unaware of (omitted to disadvantage me), is in progress. As I said, information becomes knowledge. Knowledge is a pathway to wisdom, but knowledge is also power. Omitting information employees had a legal right to know was a weapon used by senior executive to disempower their own valuable staff. Why would they choose to do that? 

The university “leaders” have a legal obligation to empower their valuable staff, not disempower them.

Below is the original post from Peter Cavanagh with an interesting question and quote. It was to this post I contributed my own thoughts:

My contribution:

I miss these professional discussions. Everything stolen must be returned. It was not “theirs” to take. 

 

Regarding Peter Cavanagh’s initial post, it goes back to this :  https://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2024/07/when-we-are-born.html.

My personal story - Part 7 - St. Mary’s Star of the Sea

“I want to be the best version of myself for anyone who is going to someday walk into my life and need someone to love them beyond reason”.

Jennifer Elisabeth

Virtus Scientiae Corona - The Virtue of Knowledge is the Crown

My first four years in high school were good years. I went to St. Mary’s Star of the Sea, the Catholic high school in my suburb. 

I have good memories of those years. I’m still in contact with friends going back to our high school days, some even going back to primary school. Many have become kind, strong, caring women. Socially just women. 

One of my fondest memories was of Bishop David Cremin, who resided in the Presbytery of St. Michael’s church next to the school.

I remember the morning greeting ritual. As my friends and I arrived at school, we’d sit in the schoolyard and chat. Bishop Cremin would ride his bicycle through the schoolyard and stop to greet us, with his down-to-earth Irish humour. He was the coolest bishop I’d ever met. He was kind, funny, and compassionate. 

Fast forward, years later to 2009, at St. Mary’s Cathedral, for a Graduation Mass. I was graduating, along with my brother. I was being awarded the Graduate Certificate in Higher Education and my brother, the Master of Religious Education, both from the Australian Catholic University. 

I was so happy to see that Bishop Cremin, my dear bishop from those high school days, was presiding at our Graduation Mass. 

He had the same Irish humour, same down-to-earth nature that I remembered from my teenage years in high school. He still called the Bishop’s mitre, his “party hat”. “Just let me put on my party hat.” I smiled. Yes, that’s Bishop Cremin. 

And then he started his homily with this, “Someone once told me that a homily must have a good beginning, a good ending, and the two must come together quite quickly.” 

He hadn’t changed a bit. There’s nothing more comforting than an approachable bishop. Someone who cares about the flock. A bishop who cares about his flock’s suffering, their adversities, their sorrows, their despair, their fears, their joys, their families, their hearts, their souls. And that’s how it should be. That’s how it was intended to be from the foundation of Christianity. 

I had amazing teachers, like my history teacher, Ms. Thompson. We had an amazing principal who epitomised for me what authentic leadership was truly about. Ms. Hudson was down-to-earth, kind, fair and inspired us to be true to our values. She was supportive of girls who spoke up against social injustice. Ms. Hudson modelled what women in leadership was meant to look like. And like many authentic and socially just leaders, she ultimately suffered for it too, as would some of us I know about, myself included, decades later. 

If you demonstrate authentic leadership, the biggest risk you’re taking is to be silenced, cast out, defamed, shamed, slandered, mobbed and discredited. But would any of us choose to conform to unethical conduct, or compromise our values in caring for the dignity of the human person and common good? If we did this, we wouldn’t be authentic leaders. 

The most difficult thing I tackled in life were narcissists. I’ve already written a post describing some of this harm - see http://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2025/06/my-personal-story-part-6-early.html. 

At this time in my life, growing up, to escape such toxic behaviour, I loved reading and stories, music, dance and animals. I loved to learn and to write. I was very focused on my schoolwork. All this was my escape. I kept away from gossips and toxic people (as best as I could, given I was only a child and couldn’t always escape from it), I helped those I could and spread kindness where it was welcomed. 

I found it amusing when one of my high school teachers told me the school staff nicknamed me St. Vicki of Bourbous. There could be worse ways to be remembered. I’ve written another post about how my parents raised me, to respect and be obedient to my teachers. They also taught me to value education. These virtues, along with my nature of being reliable, conscientious, my love of reading and writing, supportive of others and not someone the teachers had to worry about, both academically and behaviourally, I can see how I earned that nickname - see http://mystory-myvoice.blogspot.com/2025/01/my-personal-story-part-1.html.

At our year 10 graduation awards night, Ms. Hudson surprised me with something I never expected. She had a special award presented to me that night she called the Principal’s award. I remember Ms. Hudson saying all these nice things but not who it was about until the end of her speech. I was honoured when she revealed it was me. I’m moved to this very day by her kindness and really seeing us for who we were. I wasn’t going out of my way to be someone I’m not. I was just being me. 

My friends still with me know this. At the time, it was difficult to believe all the beautiful things Ms. Hudson said, because many times, I was hearing the exact opposite in my personal life from toxic narcissistic people. As a teenager, it’s easy to believe the lies. You don’t have the life experience, the maturity and wisdom, not to. 

How people perceived me was not how I perceived myself. Only now, in hindsight, do I realise how damaging it was to be surrounded by toxic “relatives” growing up. It blinded me from seeing who I was. It blinded me from seeing my true potential.

Ms. Hudson’s acknowledgement reminded me that it’s your actions that show who you are. Not words without substance. And when words are used, it’s a choice to use words for kindness, respect, inspiration and empathy or to use words for vexatious or malicious purposes. It’s always a choice. 

It was only a few years ago that I learned from a friend since those high school years, that Ms. Hudson passed away from breast cancer. I felt immense sadness. In Ms. Hudson’s memory and legacy of authentic leadership, I hope that I have become someone she’d be proud of today, as she was in her speech and award presentation that night at year 10 graduation. 

I haven’t included photos in this post because they’re all at my mum’s, my family home. I haven’t been to my family home in over a year, because of something that was caused by our elected state representative for Kogarah, Chris Minns. That’s the professional part of my story that I’m writing about, and the greater fight to end social injustice and hypocrisy. 

It pains me, however, that my dear mother had to watch her daughter be harmed and betrayed by our elected member of NSW parliament. Sometimes even when I want to get away from narcissism and, more broadly, dark triad personalities of narcissists, Machiavellians and psychopaths, I can’t - especially if there is power imbalance and suspected political interference involved. 

I just want such politicians to get out of my way, out of my life, and, let’s face it, out of the Kogarah electorate community, my community. The problem with dark triad personality types is that they believe themselves to be above the law and they have no boundaries.

I know my mother is praying for me, and for this evil encounter of structural violence, to finally go away and leave me alone. 

Let’s be real. It’s another example of misogyny, another example of many men’s poor behaviour towards women. This is something that has been normalised in our society, and it must stop. 

Perhaps, in a later post, I’ll share some photos and memories from my high school years - once the systemic, structural and gender-based violence finally stops, along with the crime of self-insured employer fraud, as immoral and illegal adverse action. It is wage theft to the extreme. 

Today is the Feast Day of the Dormition / Assumption of our Blessed Holy Mother in Heaven.

St. Mary, Star of the Sea, pray for us. 

My personal story - Part 3 - Greek Independence Day: A Revolution

“1. I do know thee by the direful

cutting edge of thy keen sword
I do know thine eye stare ireful
counting fast the lands restored

 

2. Thou camest forth off the departed

Greeks who died and lived for thee

and like erstwhile stouthearted

Hail oh hail thee Liberty!”

English translation of the Hymn to Liberty, the Greek National Anthem, as the music put to the poem of Dionysios Solomos, written during the Greek Revolution

On 25th March, Greeks celebrate the Greek Revolution for Independence….the passage from slavery to Freedom. This day, in 1821, was the beginning of the Revolution, that signified their Liberation from the bonds of their four hundred years of slavery.

I love genealogy and tracing family history. A cousin of my mum’s researched and compiled our family tree dating back to c.1775. I obtained a copy when I was in Greece in the year 2000. 

 

I include it here, on this significant day, with my ancestry highlighted. I have proof of a great great great uncle who, as an 18 year old, fought in the Greek Revolution in 1821. 

 

Courage and Bravery to stand up for what I believe in, to stay grounded in my Values, in Truth and Justice, is in my Greek Peloponnesian DNA. But was this “strategic” war game I was forced to play, a fair fight? It was with a gang of power abusers in both Government and Corporate sectors, having “allied” themselves against the public they have a responsibility to serve ethically. 

 

One Warrior Woman fighting this cowardly group to bring the Truth out of darkness and into the Light. That connects to my Faith, as today is also the significant day of the Annunciation - the Light that guided my Way on this difficult Journey was conceived, in co-operation with a Beautiful Woman, Full of Grace, who said Yes to God.

 

For the past several years of my story, it was one Warrior Woman, until now. A new Revolution is forming by the People of Australia. 

History repeats. 

Regarding my family tree, I will translate the parts highlighted. My gratitude is to my parents, for patiently supporting me through those gruelling Greek school days, instilling in me not only the skill and knowledge of a rich language, culture and history I’m connected with, but a love of learning and the value of education. 

Dimitrios Babilis (patriarch b. c.1775) had four sons: Georgios, Eustathios, Antonakis and Haralambos. 

The red box has been placed around the first born, Georgios, who was born c.1803 and fought bravely in the War of Independence. Αγωνιστής means “fighter”. Translation: Fighter of 1821.

Knowing this is meaningful to me, because as descendants, our freedom, and the preservation of culture, traditions, Christian faith and language, was because of them. Their war cry was “freedom or death”. 

The second son, Eustathios Babilis, was my great, great, great grandfather, my lineage. He was born c.1810, still a child when his older brother fought for their Freedom. My grandmother x3 was Zoe (aka. Zoitsa) Moulou. Her name literally means Life. They had four children. 

Their third child, Haralambos Babilis, was my great great grandfather, b.1854 and d.1916. He married my great great grandmother, Angeliki Kanelopoulou, b.1860 and d.1920. They had six children. 

The oldest was my great grandfather, Theodoros Babilis, b.1881 and d.1974. He was married to my great grandmother, Eleni Kitsou, daughter of John, b.1873 and d.1956. They had five children. 

The oldest was my grandfather, Georgios Babilis, b.1903 and d.1972. He was married to my dear grandmother, Ifigenia Krigou, b.1914 and d.1995. They had eight children. My beloved mum is the 7th of those eight children.

As for me, I wanted children. I wanted to continue the lineage. But men’s “behaviour” of narcissism and selfishness, of shallowness and disrespect towards women, has been “normalised” and excused in our supposedly progressive modern society. The men in my ancestral history were honourable and courageous. There was honour and respect of both men and women in a family unit. 

 

Fighting a battle with the power abusers I mentioned, won’t destroy me. What I repeatedly encountered with men in our society, and the confronting reality of these new "monetised methods” of dating and courtship, I’m not so sure. That’s why, there are now things that must be said, from parts of my personal story too. 

 

As I said in a previous post, we are not a healthy society, but a very lonely one. And loneliness is a killer, as proven by research. (See My personal story - Part 2 - There is no authenticity anymore).

Happy Greek Independence Day. In respectful memory for all who fought valiantly to free their homeland from 400 years of oppression. To my own ancestors who fought bravely. The flame of their spirit is lit from within. 

 

We, who were the generations born after 1821, no matter where in the world we live, need to uphold this legacy of Faith, Courage and staying grounded in our Values. We must continue to be Leaders in Social Justice, Human Rights, and Human Dignity in the world. It’s the Greek Philosophy of “Philotimo”, loosely translated as friend / love of Honour. 

 

A kind act is an example of honour toward another human being. It is gratitude paid forward. Such ripples become global waves of positive change.

________________________

 

You may need to zoom in on the image below.

 

Babilis Family Tree

 

 

A brief and brilliant video on the history of the Greek Revolution War of Independence

A reference for those interested in reading the English translation of the entire poem by Dionysios Solomos. There are over 150 stanzas. That is inspiring and amazing. 

Chrysopoulos, P. (2024, 27 October). 'The Greek National Anthem and Its Meaning.' Greek Reporter. [Online]: https://greekreporter.com/2024/10/27/greek-national-anthem-greece/

When we are born

When we are born, we are all vulnerable and dependent on others to take care of us and give us what every human being needs. I’m sure each person can make a list and if we compare lists, it’ll have the same  items. Sadly many innocent lives don’t have those human basic needs provided, whether because of parental neglect, or tragic circumstances, or some form of serious conflict. I won’t go into the traumatic examples many people find themselves in, from the moment they are born. They are important stories for those individuals to share.

That was not my experience. I was born into a loving family. My parents migrated from Greece in the 1960s. Family values were an important component of Greek culture. My parents were loving, nurturing and supportive. They worked hard, not only in contributing to a great Australian society, but to raise their children, to provide, giving them the opportunities they didn’t have. They valued education. I never went without my school supplies, books, nourishing food, clean clothes and an abundance of love. My parents earned modest wages. They were good at budgeting. I had values instilled in me to be conscientious at school, to value learning, and to be kind and respectful to others. 

I was given the wisdom I still hold true in my heart today: no matter what I achieve, what titles or credentials or post-nominals I may acquire, what professional title and position of leadership, first I am a human being. Then the rest. In other words, first I treat every human person I meet, with dignity, respect and kindness. None of these human values require a qualification. 

I haven’t changed, but sadly, society and what it generally values, and how people treat each other, has changed. While there’s a lot of talk and campaigns and government policies and publications on respect, dignity and human rights, generally, the reality and truth that I observe, what I experienced and what I’ve also read and seen from the experiences of many others in society, it is the sad and extreme opposite. To use the cliche that actions speak louder than words, those trying to take action for a better and kinder society, a more respectful, safe and understanding society, they are constantly at risk of being silenced, or worse, even threatened in some way. 

I’m not saying we all have to agree, but a dialogue, a debate, a discussion requires respectfully disagreeing and stating why. Respectfully. I have witnessed and experienced too much immediate attack, blame, deflection, retaliation and silencing, including literally “blocking”. 

Sadly, some of our own politicians are modeling this very behaviour, on public record, and doing it to those who are responsible citizens, who voted them in. This hinders democracy, but I also consider it an abuse of power, a lack of courage. Profit over people modeled by the very governance of a country or state. The tactic of DARVO is used more and more, the concept of toxic masculinity is growing, more and more men abusing and disrespecting women, and using cowardly tactics to silence them, or assert some kind of covert power over them. Some of these men don’t even realise they are doing this, causing serious harm to women, like they are a disposable commodity, a play thing, rather than someone who nurtures, cares and can bring forth life. They are the men that will say, “Not all men physically or sexually abuse women.” But abuse is more than what the law itself, defines as abuse. And even the criminal offences, we have seen it’s failed so many women. How many women still feel helpless, vulnerable, unsafe, also abused financially and psychologically? And the children they are also trying to protect and keep safe. 

I feel our government and its attempt at policies and funding to rectify this systemic issue, comes across as patronising, condescending and degrading women even more, rather than being empowering and respectful. Do these women have a voice in what they need, their dreams and goals for their lives? 

I have experienced the harm misogynistic politicians can cause to women, that renders them vulnerable. Is their form of exploitation and systemic abuse, their refusal to even truly respectfully listen, not the equivalent to gender-based domestic violence? Is this not an example of toxic masculinity? 

This is not how I was raised to treat people. I was also not raised to be treated like this by others, no matter who they are. 

We are all born vulnerable with the same needs. Everyone has the same right to dignity of the human person.