Over the last week, there has been wide spread news coverage on the race riots in Sydney. The riots were apparently fueled by an underlying tension between the Arabic and Anglo saxon community, a so called turf war on Sydney’s beaches, as reported by one of Sydney’s papers. This came to a head when two Cronulla life savers were assaulted by a group of men of Middle Eastern apprearance.

Turf war on Sydney beaches is not an uncommon phenomenon. In the 1960s, it was the hippies versus the rockers. Today we have surfers fighting surfers for waves that were stolen. These unrulely behaviours from people are regardless of race of background. Not long ago, a group of students from an upper class Sydney private boys school went and terrorised the residents of Bondi by destroying cars and public property when their end of school year function ended earlier than expected at the local golf club. Several years ago, there was news coverage on Asian gangs terriorising and threatening Chinese store owners in Chinatown, demanding protection money.

With the incident of the two life guards being assaulted, the media labelled the groups action as ‘Un- Australian”. Such terms, coupled with the fact that the men were of Middle Eastern appearance was enough to make any so called “Australian’s”, blood boil. But that is exactly what the media wants, an emotive reaction from the public which will sell papers and will increase viewers interest. What is really sad is that an entire community is now at the forefront of being victimised due to the stupid and reckless actions of group of young men with alot of angst, testosterone, immaturity and untamed energy. This angst, testosterone, immaturity and untamed energy which exists in young people of all communities, regardless of race or ethnic background.

The view of the Australian public is deeply skewed by the emotive reporting by the media. I truely question the amount of critical analysis that Australian’s carry out when reading their daily newspaper, when tuning into their talkback radio station.
The media has alot to answer for in further segregating and dividing the Australian community.

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are travelling by train. Out the windows, we drink in the passing scene of cars of nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, mountains and rolling hillsides of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain hour, we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there so many woderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering - waiting, waiting, waiting, for the station.

“When we reach the station, that will be it!” we cry. “When I’m 18″, “Why I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes Benz!”, “When I put the last kid through college”, “When I have paid off the mortgage”, “When I get a promotion”, “When I reach the age of retirement. I shall live happily ever after!”

Sooner or later, we must realise there is no station, no one place to arrive at, once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is a dream. It consistently out distances us. “Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially coupled with Psam 118:24 “This is the day which the Lord has made, we will rejoice and be glad in it”. It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.

So stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead climb more mountains, eat more icecream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.

Robert J.Hastings