I still remember her telling me once to go home, home meaning the UK. I’ve never forgotten that, and I suppose that’s when I had this dawning sense of being half-English. Okay, if I’m honest, a third Australian, a third British, and a third Welsh. Mum’s mother’s family are Welsh, and Granddad carried a Welsh flag when he used to march with the Normandy vets in the ANZAC Day marches.

I suppose part of my ignorance/apathy towards the British side of my ancestry was that I didn’t particularly see them as vastly different cultures, even though I know intellectually that they are. Okay, so I’ve always had a love of Britain and British things and the UK is somewhere I have wanted to visit for years. Still, I never really saw it as a second ‘home’ like I do now.

It was in this realisation that I figured out where I sat on the republican/monarchist side with regards to Australia, and the British side of me won. In spite of the fact that Australia is rather much like a republic anyway, cutting ties with Britain would, to me, feel really wrong. It’s not a rational, fact-based argument for me. It’s tied in with my identity, and my half-Englishness. Both Britain and Australia are my home.

It’s funny, I remember my mum telling me that my (paternal) gran didn’t like mum because she was too English, and she felt she was bringing up her grandkids to be British rather than Australian. I suppose I was doomed from the beginning. Even later, I felt gran wasn’t as keen on me as much as my brother because I was too like my mum.

You could argue that identification has stuck in my mind and I’ve grown into it over the years. I mean, shit, even I’ve noticed my vowels are becoming more British.

And yet… I have such an attachment to Australia and the places I’ve grown up here that it would be impossible for me to cut ties with Australia. I’m still wholeheartedly and proudly Australian. If you live on the same land long enough, you become part of it. No matter how much I might yearn for other pastures, I grew up on this land and I’ve lived most of my life here. I know the plants, the seasons, the animals, the way the year progresses. I have a connection to this land and cutting ties with that would feel the same as cutting ties with Britain. Both are important to me.

I think the internet has vastly changed the way humans perceive the notion of ‘community’ and ‘nationality’. Nations are not just bound by physical borders; Indeed, I’d argue that a nation is only as big as the people who belong to it, whether by self-identification or by acceptance by the wider community. The internet allows for people to belong to communities or ‘nations’ in a way they might not’ve been able to do before.

I think even more now than before there has become a need to label and identify yourself, to announce/declare to the world who, where and with what you identify. You, as a person, are judged based on your identification before anyone gets to know you. I realise this has always been the case, that people judge before they get to know someone, but my point is the internet makes it stupidly easy to merely list every group or affiliation or identity we hold, and reduce ourselves to a group of words on a profile. I think in doing this we are selling ourselves short, and turning complete people into tiny little bits of information. The different groups we identify with are not seen as smaller parts of the whole, they are seen as separate things, separate sides, and we have to juggle these differeing sides so that one group doesn’t find out about the others.

I’m doing it all the time, juggling my queer, pagan side with my other sides. Every time I join a new group, I’m constantly trying to judge how much and what information to tell them. Which side do I show to them? Which would they be most accepting of? Which groups am I willing for them to know about? Which ones will I hide? I think it causes more fractures than anything.

*sighs* I think I have run out of thoughts. But at least I got this out. I don’t think I can use this for the unit I was thinking of using these thoughts for, but I’ll have to find some sort of angle I can use that I’m interested enough to research. I am not convinced my tutor will be as open to my strange ideas as the tutor I had last semester who allowed me to interpret an essay question in such a way that it allowed me to discuss God, religion, alien/UFO cults and the Mongolian Empire. But we’ll see. I’ve got the week to find some angle that might interest me so I’ll leave it for now and head to bed.

I’ve been thinking about my ancestors recently. ANZAC Day always brings them to the fore. I’m almost ashamed I give them so little thought during the rest of the year.

When I was divined, Hemet (AUS) told me that my ancestors were proud of me. Even now, to think on those words makes me choke up and want to cry, and I still have no word for the emotion it elicits from me.

To carry the name of your ancestors by choice is a big decision. One might be named after them at birth, but to choose a name once taken by a relative is quite significant. I’m at that point in my life where I plan to do this, but I’m yet to ask permission from my ancestors to do so. I feel it’s only right before taking their name as my own.

I still think on my maternal grandparents a lot. I do miss them greatly, and I still can’t shake the feeling that Grandad’s Welsh flag is meant for me. One day I’ll carry it for him in his honour.

Not a long post tonight, I know, but I needed to get these thoughts down before bed. They’ve waited a long time to be written.

Also, I’ll be writing up my thoughts on Dawkins’ little tirade against New Age stuff on Sunday. Won’t that be a laugh?