TGIF all!
Good morning, and I have some exciting news for you all!
Network Ten is launching a new breakfast show next Monday, called "Wake Up". It's hoping to be something a little different for your mornings...
***
...I am super honoured to be on of the regular guest tweeters on the show!!
It's going to be quite exciting inshallah. They've given me pretty much free reign to tweet as I like during the show, commenting on all sorts of issues (even if the coffee they give me isn't up to scratch, and let's face it, nothing's quite as good as Brisbane coffee). I'll be appearing on set with the hosts three times during the morning for some talk about what's trending on twitter and the news of the day (including, as I will ensure, socially conscious topics!!).
This is a little bit awesome, right?!
So your job is to watch the show (it starts at 6.30am on Monday morning), and I will be the guest tweeter on next Thursday the 7th!!!
Tweet/FB/Instagram with me about all the issues that are important to you on that day and I will make sure they get some airtime (as best as I can!).
DEETS THAT YOU NEED TO KNOW:
My handles: @yassmin_a - facebook.com/yassminabdelmagied - http://www.youtube.com/yassm1na - and I suppose I will have to get on that instagram bandwagon ;)
This is going to be really fun inshallah, and I am honestly pretty proud of a commercial platform interesting in having a 'visibly different' voice on the show. Now, just to make sure that isn't a token voice and doing something with it (and hopefully, having this as only the start of a whole new wave of voices!).
Khair inshallah!!
Are you going to be watching? Pft, that's not even a question. You most definitely are inshallah ;)
I dumped my oversized waterproof sports bag on the tiles next to the door as I walked in, waving at the taxi. Off came the steel capped booted, the long socks. I breathed in deeply; it was good to be home.
Could I really call it home anymore though? I am not too sure. I don't spend more than a week at a time in this house, and my parents have already appropriated the spaces I used to call my own. The study desk I painstakingly built in high school and lived at during my university days has been taken over by my younger brother. My room is unrecognisable. The bed has been moved out, replaced with the spare single. All signs of life are packed away in cupboards and boxes by a mother who cannot abide clutter. I don't bother unpacking my work bag anymore as it will only be a matter of days before I head off again and it sits at the foot of my nightstand, disrupting the clean lines...
Working on the oil and gas rigs as a fly-in fly-out worker is an interesting lifestyle, and that of a service hand is slightly more erratic. Due to the nature of our employment, we don't have regular rosters and are constantly on-call. Rig crews often gasp in shock (or grunt, because 'men don't gasp!') when we explain how we have no roster: no idea of when we will be needed or how long we will stay in the field for, a life lived by the phone. It is the nature of the game and we are clearly told so when we start, but it only hits me on moments like this, moments when I realise I don't live at 'home' anymore. It seems that I have moved out, but it happened without fanfare and anyone really noticing. I didn't move into another home, rather a to a life out of this 18 kilo duffel bag.
You learn what is essential and what you can live without, you learn to take small bottles of shampoo and fewer changes of clothes. On my first hitch my bag weighed in at 23kg, the maximum QANTAS would take. Now, I am at a comfortable 18kg - and that 5kg makes all the difference when you haul your life around on your shoulder.
You become accustomed to wearing the same two sets of clothes to work for weeks on end, having one set washed for you every night and folded by the morning. You get used to having your food made for you, because most camps have a 24 hour kitchen to serve the 24 hour rig operations. Some might consider it a luxury, having your clothes washed and your food cooked, but when after working over 12 hours a day, 7 days a week for weeks on end, you will take any luxury you can get. It says something about a place when lollipops and stickers are like gold and anyone taking a trip to the nearest town is inundated with requests for packs of red bull, cigarettes or eclipse mints. It's the simple things that keep you going.
The FIFO Life is a series of moments experienced during the Fly-In, Fly-Out (FIFO) life of working on the oil and gas rigs. Amorphous, random, and usually written on a whim, these are moments that encapsulate the emotion of a strange sort of a life.
Malala Yousfazi's story is well known around the world now, and as a one of the nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize this year, her passion for women's education has been given an international platform.
She is clearly an inspiration for many, although there are those who would take away from her achievements by claiming she is a 'good native'; someone who can be used as an example to justify the actions of Western nations.
Looking beyond this though, the story of Malala is not about Malala herself, because as many have pointed out, there are many like her around the world.
The story is rather that of the Yousfazi family, and particularly her father Ziauddin. This story is about the strength of fathers in a world where bucking the cultural norm not only reflects on the individual, but on the entire family and is one of the more difficult - but worthwhile - paths to tread.
***
I cannot speak for Pakistan or Afghanistan, but as a Sudanese born child to parents of mixed heritage in Northern Africa, our cultures have many similarities in expectation and tradition.
In Sudan, the levels of education that women attain - or allowed to attain - are often restricted by the income bracket and cultural expectation of the family. Middle to high income bracket groups often see school education (including for women) as a given. Those from poorer parts of the country do not always have that luxury. Unfortunately, most of the nation's wealth resides within the three central cities of Khartoum, Omdurman and Bahri and so many living in rural and remote areas miss out.
The kicker? The level of influence of the attitudes of men in the family. Sudan, like many Middle East and North African nations, is intensely patriarchal. No matter how much 'gumption' a woman may have, or how 'brave' she is, without the support of the family and the alpha men in the unit, some things are unlikely to be tolerated. This is not to say 'all the women are oppressed', as media often regurgitates, but it does mean that men continue to control much of the public discourse and the public domain more generally.
It is very difficult for a woman to support herself in a house alone, for example. One's reputation and the way they are seen by the world is the most valuable currency in a collective society. It is a dis-empowering situation in some senses, particularly if one is used to the freedom of choice and independence women are allowed in other parts of the world to . However, it is the lay of the land...
It is against this backdrop of patriarchy that the importance of male support begins to be clear. I see my own father in Malala; a man who values education, opportunity, and sees his daughter not as a less capable member of society who should be married as soon as possible to produce grandchildren, but as a functioning, contributing citizen who has the ability to do so much more than the minimum expected. My father moved across the world for these opportunities for his daughter, and supported me in every educational pursuit that he felt added value. He encouraged my passions, even though traditionally, fields such as mechanical engineering and working in very male dominated environments is not always seen as 'appropriate' or fitting for a 'good Sudanese girl'. I am where I am today largely because of both my parent's efforts, and the blessing of his support has allowed me to be in a role that will hopefully inspire others in some way.
My point is this. It is unlikely that Malala would have been able to do the things she did - write for the BBC, continue her education - if it weren't for her father's support. Without the blessings of the patriarch in Sudan, life decisions become quite fraught and difficult; I have little doubt this would be the same in Pakistan. Her father's attitude likely legitimised her actions in the area and allowed her to communicate and make a stand without ostracising her own family in the process.
It is the support of men like Malala's father which is absolutely required in the fight for women's equality, education and liberation in countries such as Sudan and Pakistan.
Without their support, it is an uphill battle that is unlikely to be overcome any time soon.
With their blessings and bolstering however, a difference can be made.
You all know I deeply, deeply love motorsport. So when the opportunity to check out the newest Formula 1 cinematic masterpiece came along, I jumped at the chance! Check out my review of 'Rush', released earlier this month, with Josh Kruse (a fellow journo at Richard's F1)!
The intake heaves, urgently drawing every inch of air and oxygen into the cylinders.
The camera zooms in, past the smooth movements of the pistons, while your senses are overwhelmed by the roar of the intake.
The new Formula 1 film, Rush, is an adrenalin filled, cinematographic feast. It is a motion picture that should, and will be appreciated by fans of the sport, but you don’t have to love the world of Formula 1 to appreciate this particular piece.
Ron Howard’s Rush is set in the 1970s, two conflicting personalities progress through Formula 3 to Formula 1, where they would create one of the most extravagant and memorable seasons Formula 1 has seen. It’s a story that can literally tell itself.
Rush focuses on the infamous rivalry of Austrian and British drivers Niki Lauda and James Hunt during the early 70’s. It is an era that as young Formula 1 fans, neither of us had heard and read much about, but was truly brought alive by actors Daniel Brühl (Lauda) and Chris Hemsworth (Hunt) on the big screen. The atmosphere of the 1970s racing world – no safety, loads of scantily clad women and drivers with actual (visible) personalities – was so convincing, we felt nostalgic for an time we had never even experienced.
Lauda is the man whose methodical and meticulous approach to his career earned him the success he yearned for in Formula One. Lauda is a perfectionist, involved in every aspect of the car and tunes his ride to faultlessness. Niki, unlike James, calculates and plays the odds consistently.
Hunt is the glamorous English playboy whose fearless bad-boy persona makes him irresistible to women. He, on the other hand, lives like he drives: emotionally with no holds barred and little regard for logical details like odds and risk. He is chaotic, charismatic and larger than life.
The events of the 1976 World Championship make for heart clenching watching: Lauda’s harrowing crash, his painful – truly painful – recovery and Hunt’s desperation for the title are all depicted brilliantly.
Neither driver is a hero or a villain, although the film makes you love and hate both in equal measure. These were two very different men with wildly different motives for racing who were eventually brought together by the sharing of a title and the development of a mutual respect.
The casting for Rush could not have been better. Hemsworth does a fantastic job of playing the party boy role, while Brühl’s spectacular depiction of Lauda is remarkably accurate down to the accent, earning high praise from Niki Lauda himself.
The excitement of engines roaring to life before they take on the graveyard, The Nürburgring, will send deep chills down the spines of F1 fans, as they know of the unfortunate events that occur. Although one step ahead of us, Howard makes the entire scene so tense you’ll be gripping the arm rest waiting for it to happen. Then it does, Lauda’s Ferrari suffers a mechanical fault and smashes into a barrier, the car erupting into a ball of flames as the fuel tank is punctured.
Cue Hans Zimmer.
A well-balanced mix of cinematography and musical composition make Lauda’s fiery crash entrancing to watch. You’re so absorbed by the emotional scene that’s supplemented by a dramatic orchestra it becomes easier to picture the real event.
It’s not just this scene where Zimmer’s musical talent presents itself; all throughout the film the music that accompanies it is outstanding. Not since the amazing compositions from Antonio Pinto’s work in Senna have we rushed home (pardon the pun) and bought the soundtrack.
There are times where Hollywood steps in and depicts Lauda as the villain and Hunt as the hero, but you must remember that this is a movie, not a documentary.
Of course there will be those who lived through the era who remember the events of the day, and the relationship between the two drivers quite differently. That is not the point of Rush.
What you do have is a film that brings to life the beauty of the sport, the excitement of the race and the tension of the personal drama. It gives an inkling as to why people like us crave the race weekends, why the screams of a V8, V10 or V12 make our hearts beat a flurry. It is a film about the exquisiteness of the sport that we all love, and for that Ron Howard and all his team should be duly thanked.
Using our unique ‘Chequered Flags’ rating system, we award RUSH (out of a possible five)…
JOSH
YASSMIN
RUSH is currently in national release in Australian cinemas. Check your local cinema for listing and session times.
Postscript: It is sad that on writing this piece, the news that Sean Edwards, a Porsche professional driver involved in the making of Rush was killed at Yassmin’s home racetrack, Queensland Raceway. Our thoughts are with his family, and it is a sombre reminder that even though we think the dangerous days of motorsport have past, it is still a sport that occasionally draws blood in the worst way possible. RIP Sean.
A lovely friend suggested I share some of my speeches that I have shared over the years. I don't often write down a script, but here are some that I have dug up from my archives. I hope you enjoy...
***
University of Queensland's Class of 2011 Engineering Graduation, 2011
***
Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, members of Senate, Professor Robin Batterham AO, academic staff of the university, distinguished guests, fellow graduates, ladies and gentlemen.
It is amazing that only a few years ago many of us were living quite a different life – graduating high school, working or travelling; excited about beginning university but unaware of the journey that lay ahead of us. Yet here we are, graduating as professionals in our field. I am honoured to be standing in front of you here today and I can only wonder what we as a group will achieve in the years to come.
It is often repeated, but never quite enough – we would have never been able to do it without our support networks. Our parents deserve a special thank you – raising children can be a thankless task, but they have given us a part of their lives and without them, we truly wouldn’t be here. So for all mum and dads, thank you. Although mum, I probably still will be reluctant to do the dishes!
Secondly, thank you to the university and the many lecturers and professors who have taught and guided us over the years. Although many of us may have been a little frustrated at the workload at times, cursed late nights and early mornings in labs and ate way too much from the vending machines, the lessons you have taught us – from structural mechanics to sketching to the very concept of problem solving – these are lessons that will stay with us for the rest of our lives. Furthermore, the support staff deserve every recognition; dealing with our questions daily cannot be easy but they have been kindly patient with us, and bring a little bit of joy into every interaction!
Last but not least... fellow graduates. Without you, it would never have happened. Even for the most prepared – or perhaps unprepared student – without working and learning from each other, our university experience wouldn’t be nearly the life changing experience that it was.
As exciting as it is to have the honour and pleasure of graduating, it is also important to remember and realise the capacity of what we now have.
We live in a time of great change and development, this we all know. What we don’t often realise or acknowledge however, is the power of the technical mind in these times. Every generation of technical minds is faced with a number of grand challenges, issues that will confront the cohort across disciplines and are to be addressed for the greater good. For some of us, that challenge will be energy. Conserving it, reducing the demand for it, finding alternatives or making more of it – the future remains unseen. For others, it will be something different. Find that something different. Our technical minds thirst for challenges, and so if you can find yours – your grand challenge, you can fulfil not only your own personal goals, but also play a meaningful role in contributing tangibly to society.
Truth is, I was apprehensive the day I walked into UQ, and I’m a little apprehensive walking out because I have no idea what is next. But you know, fellow grads, we made it. We beat the odds and got here. Let us not forget why we came. Let us revel in what we have now received – the capacity and responsibility to influence our environment and leave a legacy, and to choose what that legacy is.
To paraphrase Dr Suess:
We have brains in our head/We have feet in our shoes/ We can steer ourselves in any direction we choose.
We are on our own/We know what we know/We are the ones who’ll decide where to go.
One of my favourite parts about working out on the rigs is the crazy/hilarious/random/unexpected things people say.
Here are a few of the gems of conversations I have been a part of recently!
NB: In the interests of privacy and what-not, I have referred to individuals as Old Mate, or OM for short.
***
We were having a conversation about various types of dancing. I was horrified (actually, slightly mollified) to find that most of the fellas had absolutely no idea what twerking was.
OM:What is it aye? Twerking, never heard of it!?
OM2: Mate when I first heard the word I thought it was that game you play on ice where you throw that thing… (he was referring to curling). It’s pretty much just hip thrusting man!
OM3: It’s Miley Cyrus aye
Me: OMG MILEY CAN’T EVEN TWERK SHE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING THERE
They didn’t really understand why I was so upset about that. Actually…I don’t think I understand either…damn you Miley!
***
OM: Melbourne hay? I see the place as 5 million latte, Frappuccino sipping yuppies really. That’s all.
***
The nicknames that you hear out on these rigs are pretty great. Sometimes they are just a shortening of the person’s names with a few ‘z’s’ added in for good measure, so Gary becomes Gazza, Barry is Bazza, Yassmin is Yazza, and so on. Other times though, they are a little more inventive.
“We had this one HSE guy and he was really irritable...so we called him thrush.”
“There was this one electrician right, and whenever there was a problem he'd say “oh yeah I'll look into it for ya...”
So we called him mirrors. The guy was always looking into things!”
“There was another electrician who was always asking for something from ya. Like if you were using something he'd be like “can I use it after ya?”
So we called him Underpants ‘cos he was always on the bum!”
***
The fellas were having a conversation about Fiji and mentioned Kava, a drink that is native to the area. Unfortunately it didn’t seem like the fellas were impressed.
OM: They’re addicted to that Kava stuff man. I don’t know what that’s about, why can’t they have a normal addiction, like to crack?!
***
OM: You're a Muslim or a Christian?
Me: Muslim...
OM: Okay so I have a question for you? Why don't I ever see any of the bloody people laugh??! I swear they are always so serious, with this serious face. Don't any of them ever laugh or even smile?!
OM: If I had to live like that seriously all the time, I think I would just die.
I responded, quite appropriately I think, with one of my characteristic guffaws. Touche, one might think...
At the Brisbane Writer's Festival a few weeks ago I had the pleasure of meeting Ben McKenzie, and we established early on that we were both Doctor Who fans and self confessed nerds!
To celebrate the occasion we had a lovely chat about it, and it was made into this podcast for the "Splendid Chaps" program Ben runs, celebrating 50 years of the Tardis...
Good morning all!
Things are a little bit quiet on my front today so I thought I would share some of the interesting bits of news / things on the internet this morning.
Secondly, an interesting piece on The Conversation on the fact that Peter Voser (outgoing Chair of Shell) says getting into shale gas in the US is his biggest regret. Say what?!
There is no doubt gas is a much cleaner fuel than coal in all sorts of ways, and a preferable one if it can be delivered to market at scale in a cost effective way. It could conceivably help attain climate objectives if used as a bridging fuel, providing fugitive emissions are held in check. But to do so, requires a sustained coal-to-gas replacement path in the short-medium term.
With the latest reports out of EIA, and Voser’s mea culpa, unconventional gas is not looking quite the sure bridge it was just a few months ago.
For the outgoing Chair of Shell to say that the shale gas revolution in the States isn't necessarily the revolution we were expecting, one has to wonder...
Well, in three weeks time in front of a live audience and a BBC viewership of 70 million, I will be arguing against the hypothesis that God and His Prophets should be protected against insult at the Intelligence Sqaured Debate in Sydney on the 7th of November.
To be honest, it is a slighty scary prospect, mostly because...
1. This is a pretty nuanced issue, and can be pretty well misconstrued;
2. I imagine many in the Muslim community feel that in fact God and His Prophets should be protected against insult and will see my taking this position as an insult to Islam (!)
3. It is probably the largest audience I have had the humbling honour of speaking to!!!
At the end of the day, I am no Islamic scholar and speak about this issue as purely an interested individual and a Muslim woman who feels a sense of shame every time there are riots and people are killed because of a set of cartoons or an amateur video. We should be better than this!
I feel I should mention that my taking this position does not mean I do not feel that Allah and his beloved Prophet Mohammed (SAW) are not sacred and revered. This is about our actions in this world rather than debating the sanctity of who we worship per se...
Alas! I am getting ahead of myself. I am working on my angle at the moment, and would love to hear your thoughts on the matter... what do YOU think?
I like to think of it as a detox for the soul. Ramadan is the 9th month in the Islamic lunar calendar, and to fast during Ramadan is the fourth pillar of the five pillars of Islam. It's a month that's celebrated and venerated by Muslims worldwide.
Historically, Ramadan is the month where the first verses of the Quran were revealed to the Prophet (Peace and Blessings be Upon him). It is a time of spiritual reflection for all Muslims, it's about self discipline, restraint and empathy. Fasting is merely a physical form of restraint; Muslims are also encouraged to guard their speech, actions and thoughts from engaging in 'despicable acts'.
Fasting also allows us as Muslims to understand the plights of those less fortunate than ourselves and become more appreciative of the blessings we have. It's an opportunity to focus on our actions and spirituality, almost like a 'refresh' for your beliefs.
The month brings people together, across cultural, political and ethnic divides. We are encouraged to forgive and seek forgiveness of others and in doing so build bonds that will continue when the fasting ends. Even the 'Iftar' (breaking of the fast at sunset) provides a platform for sharing and a peaceful tranquillity.
Over the 28 or 29 days, good deeds are rewarded many times over, and the gates of Paradise are open, while the gates of Hell are closed. What better time to reorganise your spiritual affairs?
SOLITARY REFLECTION
This Ramadan, I find myself out in the field, working as an oil and gas engineer in regional Australia, with no-one on the rig quite understanding the ritual. It feels strange, not having iftar with the family and heading to the mosque to pray 'Taraweeh', the additional nightly prayers that one can take part in during Ramadan.
It is however, an opportunity to be more mindful about my fast, reflect and pray, away from the distractions of everyday life.
I do small things in my own way to make the month special; buying dates to break my fast with as is tradition, playing Quraan in my room when I'm off-shift, waking up early to lay out the praying mat my mother bought me and pray before the light turns. It isn't the same of course, as being with my family and the community; the shared experience of fasting is absent and the men on the rig generally find it 'crazy'.
"Why would you do that?" they tend to ask, when I explain the reasons I am not having lunch or rehydrating. "It sounds crazy. I'd never do that. Doesn't sound very good for you either."
One or two, will ask for more details. "So what is the point of it?", after which I explain the importance of being grateful, of self-discipline. Some do understand, particularly those who have their own religious identity and it is nice to be able to share the tranquillity that fasting brings.
We are lucky in Australia though, because at the moment the days are short. I imagine it will be quite different on the rigs when Ramadan moves to the summer months.
A little while ago I was fortunate / blessed / someone was crazy enough to let me in front of their camera - to be a part of a University of Queensland Campaign. Enjoy the video that came out of it! Special mentions to the Spark Engineering Camp crew and the University of Queensland Racing team, who are like my family, truly.
Since the announcement of Prime Minister Tony Abbott's one-woman cabinet, the discussion around quotas and representation of women in levels of influence has been rekindled with passion. Both sides of the debate have defended their position with vehement enthusiasm.
"Oh, I am all for equal and fair representation of women - but quotas? No, I want women based on merit", is the most common argument.
Women themselves - even those who would be in a position to benefit - seem particularly sensitised to this argument. They'll shy away from being given an 'unfair advantage' or reject it outright, presumably in the belief that to do otherwise would be to affect their perceived legitimacy.
The discussion around targets, quotas or affirmative action is extremely polarising, yet the underlying question seems to be unclear. What exactly is it that we are trying to achieve - and why? If quotas are not the answer, what is?
If "more women in leadership positions" is the overall aim, then the data from around the world proves that the concept of affirmative action appears to be working.
Norway is touted as the classic global example, having introduced a mandatory quota for women on boards in 2002 and passed by the Norwegian parliament in 2003. In this Scandinavian nation, the percentage of women on boards did in fact increase from 9% in 2003 to 39% in 2009. The first study on the effects of the quota was undertaken by the Norwegian Institute for Social Research and the results reinforced the benefit of affirmative action on the 'bigger picture'. It was reported that the majority of directors surveyed indicated that more women on the board led to new perspectives and more issues being added to the board agenda. A seeming win-win situation, right?
But if the aim is about promoting those with this intangible and extremely subjective criteria of 'merit' - well, perhaps our society's entire process of promotion needs an overhaul!
In pure numbers, the Australian Bureau of Statistics reported that women have the edge on their male counterparts in Bachelor degrees and higher qualifications. 27 per cent of women compared to 24 per cent of men hold these type of tertiary degrees. If we are looking at entry requirements for merit, wouldn't these numbers reflect an even - or even female oriented - outcome? Understandably, leadership positions aren't just based on degrees. Industry and management experience and networks play a significant role, as well as the fact that often women take time off work to raise families. But if we are talking about 'merit', qualifications are surely an indicator.
If society functions by promoting, hiring and being led by the best, why do all our 'best' look so similar at the top - but things work so differently at the bottom? The difference between entry points is striking.
The Australian Financial Review's 100 Women of Influence, for example, is a list of some of the most inspiring ladies around the country. Yet the significant contribution and capacity of women doesn't seem to leave the impression that it should. Whether this is because we, as females are predisposed to more nurturing roles, or whether this is because people hire and promote those who are like them is up for debate - but it remains a thorn in our sides.
Jane Caro asks some of these questions in a timely piece, where she also highlights that the idea of quotas and targets are not new and they continue to be utilised for a variety of representations. It would be inconceivable for a regional representative or a youth representative for example, to refuse a position solely because they were selected on the basis of location or age.
Why is gender different? What makes us all so uncomfortable with forced structural change around gender? I struggle to understand the deep seated resentment against the idea. Is there a sense of illegitimacy if a woman feels like she is only there to 'fill in a quota' and if so, where does that sense of illegitimacy come from?
I am not a social engineer and don't have the answer. I am simply a 22-year-old who wonders: is inducing change to have women around the cabinet table and in the boardroom the best way to achieve our collective desired outcome? Quite possibly yes - if the aim is for our leadership and the pipelines to these positions to be fair, equitable and representative.
By equity and fairness, I mean that the characteristic of gender is not an obstacle to being considered, and that a woman's capacity is readily identifable. Of course, removing unconscious bias is easier said than done. By representative, I mean that our leadership reflects the makeup of those being led. Given a majority of our population is women, a largely male dominated leadership is not really representative at all.
One thing is for sure : affirmative action makes the talents of women more visible. It is a mechanism to force people to look outside the usual traps for talent, and that is what gives the concept potential.
Philosophically, we might not feel comfortable with it - but if the aim is to have our leadership as diverse as our population, perhaps the end justifies the means.
