I had a sense of justice from a very young age. I have no doubt this was the result of the beautiful cocktail of influences I had as a child. I travelled a lot with my parents as a kid, making friends all over the world from the get go. Openness, curiosity and free expression were a given, and I think my kid brain came to understand this should be true for everyone. So as I grew older I would challenge anyone and anything that hindered my or anyone else’s freedom to self-determination. It’s only upon reflection that I can see how unique this was, and that my predisposition to fight in anyone’s corner made me an activist before I knew the word.

It is also worth noting that I do come from a family that loves to fight. We debate, argue, and push each other’s buttons, not always in the most healthy of ways. We believe what we believe and we are not backing down. I learnt early on to stand my ground but also that “sorry” may be necessary when things cool down. This was my training ground for difficult conversations and, even with all its spiky moments and heated collars, it is where I first understood forgiveness.

Forgiveness and reconciliation perform an intricate ballet in my homeland. The Colonial Project is still at work today and continues to be a never-ending source of pain, loss and devastation for Indigenous people. The country now known as Australia is a country deeply in need of reconciliation. However this word has been used like a band-aid, a quick fix to cover over the bone-deep need for healing. For generations, Indigenous activists and the general public alike called for accountability, ownership and a commitment to change, the kind that can only come when we truly and honestly say “I’m sorry”. Finally, in 2008, the Australian Government issued a public apology for the “profound grief, suffering and loss” inflicted on Indigenous people by Australia’s political leaders. But the dance still continues, as some Australians believe the work is done “from our side” and forgiveness must take place if we are to move forward as a nation. However as much as forgiveness is possible without an apology, reconciliation is not. Part, present and future hurt must be held and owned, we must lament and repent together and then melt a solemn vow of peace into our hearts.

This image from Grimsby, a town in the north of England. Painfully deprived and powerfully neglected. I ran a theatre project there with a group of youth offenders and this picture reminds me that if you can find a way to hold space, even in the midst of tragedy, you can see beautiful things grow.