history, friends and a group of flaming homosexuals

Sitting out on my balcony soaking up the sun I was stricken by a thought. Before explaining the thought I must first give you a description of my surroundings: I was lying on my beach towel which has the Australian flag printed on it, I was taking a break from reading and gazing in awe at the three large eagles that were soaring over head, and the book that I was reading is Confederates in the Attic, a novel surrounding deep exploration into the civil war and how it effects the South of today. My professors voice was ringing in my ears talking about how Horwitz (the author) was exploring that perhaps what brings us as a general people together is shared history. That a common past is the sole reason we have an individual culture.

Pondering this atop my Australian memorabilia I was propelled into the questions of where does my culture come from? What culture do I belong to? What the hell do I identify with? And before you zone out at yet another adolescent questioning who they are, where they come from, and where they want to be, I have an insight. A reason that perhaps my mismatched group of friends back home is still unified.

It is indeed our common history, albeit not dating as far back as a war fought in the 1860s, but it is our shared experiences that keep us from completely falling apart. I am a firm believer that our experiences are one of the driving forces in shaping who we become, and with the pushing of my professor I believe that this could be adopted in not just an individual sense but also for a group of people.

When people ask me what Australia is like I often draw a blank. All I can think of is my drama-filled group of flaming homosexuals that I have grown up with. And when questioned about what we do back home for fun all I can think of is drink. Surely there must be more to it than that? Alas my teacher has enlightened me (as they are surprisingly paid to do…shock horror) that whilst I fail to come up with a concrete example of life back home, it is the fact that I have lived it, and shared it with these people who I have grown to know as friends.

So perhaps he wasn’t suffering a brief moment of insanity when he put forth that people are united through history. And that indeed that history is interpreted differently by each individual, but it is still a common past that brings them together.

Just a thought… perhaps history could be important.