I want to explain why, as I would if we were sitting together over a cup of tea. You are entitled to your political views. You can question immigration levels, housing, infrastructure and whether governments are planning properly for population growth. These are fair questions, especially in regional communities struggling to find homes, doctors and services. I am asking you to notice when concern about policy becomes a judgment about people.
When you called me “one of the good ones”, I wondered who the others were. What had I done to earn an exemption? Was it because you knew me and my family? I asked whether you would feel the same about an immigrant from Britain or another white Western country. You said ‘no’. That answer made me feel this was also about race, culture and appearance, even if you had never consciously thought of it that way.
I was born in India and now proudly call Shepparton home. I work, raise my children and contribute to the community I live in. But I am not separate from the people being discussed when migrants are spoken about as a problem. I am an immigrant, a Muslim woman and an Australian, and all those parts of me belong together.
Recently, I saw a local newspaper photograph celebrating doctors working in our region. Many were not white. Underneath were comments questioning where they came from and whether they belonged. The commenters knew nothing about their lives, qualifications or contribution. They looked at skin colour and filled in the rest of the story themselves.
When I looked at that photograph, I saw my two boys. They were born here, on Yorta Yorta Country. Australia is the only home they know, and they are brown. One day they may appear in a photograph celebrating something they have achieved. I do not want strangers to see their faces and decide they are outsiders before learning their names.
This is where unconscious bias matters. It does not always announce itself as hatred. Sometimes it sounds like surprise that a person of colour speaks well, works hard or shares your values. Sometimes it appears as warmth towards the person you know and suspicion towards the group you do not. Being kind to me while speaking harshly about people who look like me leaves my belonging dependent on your approval.
None of us are free from bias, including me. The work is to become curious about it. Where did this belief come from? Would I think the same if this person were white? Have I spoken to anyone from the community I am describing? These questions make political debate more honest and less harmful.
You can want stronger policy, better planning and accountable government while still treating migrants and people of colour with dignity. You can be worried about housing without blaming the family who also cannot find a rental. You can question immigration settings without questioning whether someone belongs because of their skin, surname, faith or accent.
So, my friend, I am not asking you to vote as I do. I am asking you to look at the whole picture: the policies, the language, the values and how that language lands in ordinary lives. Please extend the humanity you see in me to people you have not yet had the chance to know.
I still value our friendship, and I am glad we stayed in an uncomfortable conversation. I do not want to be accepted as an exception. I want my boys, and every person who calls this place home, to be met as a human being before being placed into a category. I hope we keep talking, with honesty, kindness and the willingness to question not only our leaders, but ourselves.
