the numbers tattooed on his arm.
You see, it was real, the Holocaust was.
Six months ago I couldn't even spell the word -- but now I've realized that it's still happening today. That people are being persecuted because of their face, their race... which determines their place in this world.
It wasn't so long ago, the Holocaust; before our parents' time, perhaps, but that's all. When innocent people -- six million Jews, and that's not counting Christians and whatever else people were discriminated for -- were killed.
Why? Because Hitler was out to create the perfect race. Blonde hair, blue eyes. But, uh, Hitler himself? Brown hair. His eyes weren't blue. He said something like, "I'm part of the problem -- but I'm going to help you fix it."
"It is fortunate," he said, "That men do not think."
Do you know what they did in those times, to convince little kids that Jews were bad? They took things like children's books and games and things -- and created ones about Jews and they made up things about them that weren't true. It's called propaganda. So you'd just grow up that way, believing lies about Jews.
When refugee's come to Australia seeking their place of refuge, why don't we let them in? And when we do let the occasional freedom-seeking people into this country, what happens? Oh, we just lock them away in these little prisons we've got over here where we cram in plasma TV's and couches so that it looks humane or something.
In the death camps in Auschwitz and all those places, the whole plan was to take away the humanity of the people. As soon as they entered the camp, a number was tattooed onto their arm.
"From that moment on, I was never called by my name again; I was a number."
Toilets? Um. Bedding? Uh. Showers? They weren't really showers.
Some of us are raised to think that just because a person is black or from a war-fighting country or someplace, that they should stay there and not come to our country.
I hate it. I really do. I know that hate is a strong word, but I also know that this world doesn't belong to me or you -- I mean, God made this place.
We were watching this documentry called 7 Up in class the other day, and there's this one black kid among a whole bunch of white kids. There's rich kids, poor kids and middle class kids.
And I thought, watching this one girl say that she, "Didn't care for coloured people; wouldn't care if she never saw one in her life," -- what would it be like if there was just one white kid and six black kids?
Just because we have no need to run for our lives in this part of the world doesn't mean that we can say we're better or we belong more or something!
These thoughts are probably all over the place, but I really needed to share it with you. Because propaganda sticks hard and it's not good.
There comes a time when we heed a certain call
When the world must come together as one
There are people dying
And its time to lend a hand to life
The greatest gift of all
We can't go on pretending day by day
That someone, somehow will soon make a change
We are all a part of Gods great big family
And the truth, you know,
Love is all we need
-- we are the world