THE EDITORS’ REFLECTIONS ON ON DIT 2022

As I face the quickly approaching end of my term as On Dit Editor, I cannot help but reflect on the year that has passed. Like most accounts of holding any leadership role, I too have battled against the urge to utter the famous words of ‘if only I had more time’. Afterall, when we enter any role that excites us, engages our passions, and one we ultimately believe we can make a genuine difference in, it is easy to be ambitious and indeed child-like in our desire to do it all.

Those who know me, will know that I rarely feel I have ever done enough. I will always have a private list of all the things I supposedly ‘could’ and ‘should’ have done; both personally and professionally. Those lists remain on my bedside table, notes app, and in my own mind for countless weeks on end; meanwhile every ticked box is never to be seen again – an achievement made and discarded.

I could tell you that this is capitalism at its finest. The result of being told we must constantly be productive, that less is never more, and that we will always be incomplete unless we have x, y, z. Or I could remind you that I undoubtedly feel the pressure to exceed any given expectations, simply to earn half the respect of my male counterparts or predecessors, albeit for quite literally lesser pay. And I would (potentially to the dismay of some) consider these both to be fair assessments. However, I have also come to think that this might just be the human brain. Or at least an anxious one? Because really, the ‘coulda, woulda, shoulda’ list leads us back to the big philosophical question plenty of us ask…‘what if?’ What if we…would things be different? Would we feel more satisfied? Would we have pleased more people? Would we feel that we had enough time?

I was recently asked - admittedly, overwhelmed and behind with my university work - what was a comforting thought that offers me peace, when I feel unsatisfied with what I am doing. I thought about it for half a second, knowing the cliché that immediately came to mind. Even in its predictability, it still had the lingering feelings of profoundness from when I first found these words in my adolescent years.

I did the best I could, with the time I had.

It’s a phrase that makes me want to find that list of all the things I did achieve. And to cherish it.

I think when it comes to reflections of our legacy - our impact in our role - the value sits in acknowledging all that we did. In equally recognising our mistakes and the invaluable lessons they gave us, as well as having the gratitude for what we could achieve, in the precious time we were given. Grace

There is so much going on in the world and there is so much I want to write about and talk about but alas, On Dit 2022 is coming to a close and so is the time for using On Dit as a platform. However, I have been reflecting a lot on the hows and the whys of everything that is taking place in the world, and I’ve been thinking about how to prepare myself for everything that it will bring.

Everything that we consume from the media, from our teachers, from our social and political circles and from our inner self, influences the role and responsibilities we allocate for ourselves in these events. I have been wondering about my role in all the movements, in the revolutions, in the struggle of the oppressed and in the ever-increasing, ever vicious and ever-desperate attacks on our resistance and pushback against the imperial core. The trying times we are living through right now and the crisis of oppressive, patriarchal, and arrogant systems playing out in our lives requires our vigilance. It has made us reach a point where our only response to these anti-human players has to be militant.

Learning and unlearning, getting organised and enrolling ourselves in movements of resistance like in Iran, movements of uprising like in Haiti, movements of progress like the anti-NATO protests in Europe and movements of decolonising here on the stolen land of Australia are the actions that will save us from falling as disposable pawn pieces into the plots of the oppressors. The blowing up of the Nord Stream pipeline is the manifested admission of America’s ‘The U.S has no permanent friends or enemies, only interests.’

We need to be hyper-aware of every narrative America, the great Satan- feeds us.

If you know me then you know I have created a few waves this year through my politics. I wrote about Palestine, and I created a disturbance within the culture of silencing calls for justice, of stubborn ignorance and of treacherous compliance with how the world is run. I have no regrets but I do have a lot of lessons. What that entire experience taught me is the dire need for revolutions and more importantly the preservation and defence of revolutions. Our solidarity with the oppressed and with all people fighting for justice needs our determined, unapologetic, and unwavering investment in their cause.

In this world there is the (Haqq) and there is the (Bathil) and each has its representative. Haqq means a very profound truth and righteousness and Bathil means an elimination from acceptance because of its lack of Haqq.

You will find the representative of Haqq as the target of the imperial core’s lies, propaganda, social discredit, and economic sabotage. It is to that representative of Haqq, which has always been present in one form or another throughout the history of humanity and its various eras, that we should align ourselves with and extend our unconditional solidarity towards.

I am so grateful to have had the honour of being an On Dit Editor this year (and General Councillor in the SRC) and working with such talented and lovely people as Habibah, Grace and Jenny. At the beginning of the year when I first started my role with On Dit, I felt a blaring, perhaps naive optimism. I was so excited to diverge my love for politics, activism and journalism. I did not realise, however, how scary and confusing my role would be, especially as I was also going to be part of the SRC. Eventually, mixed in between passion, community and journalism I had to face the stark reality of the political game. Lost between the bickering, masking and big-dick contests, I felt like I lost myself. I yelled, I cried and I definitely think I was rude. There’s something about trying to convince another person that racism is bad or that we need abortion that really makes you feel a certain kind of hopeless.

Over the course of the year on the SRC, my voice felt drowned out, my words felt tired. The University’s political ecosystem is not easy. I felt like I was in a really high-stakes anime. It felt like positive change on campus could only come through the worst, most intense game of my life. I got caught up in the idea that if I yell loud enough it might actually matter, that this game isn’t just another career path, resume tick, dick-slinging contest reliant on incessant fakeness and masking. Was I just naïve to believe it would be anything but a hard, bloody fight? While I do believe that some groups and people on the Council are well-intended and do some really really good things, it’s that many of those in the centre and the right do not. Between the articles written, the bickering and the stares..those people are more concerned with their careers, hierarchies and agendas than to be able to stand still for a moment and see the wool over their eyes.

I digress, in reflecting on my time as an editor for On Dit, I will always cherish the way my team has supported me. Through the roughness of SRC is the silver lining of Jenny, Grace and Habibah. Despite the consistent hardships and battles we’ve all faced together, our friendships have only strengthened! I have felt supported through it all, no matter how difficult and scared I felt during this year or the amount of writer’s block. So maybe I wasn’t being naively optimistic, despite the challenges of this year, because On Dit makes me feel optimistic. Jenny, Grace and Habibah make me feel optimistic.

Thank you so much to all our readers. Much love, Chanel. Chanel

It is hard to believe that this will be the last On Dit that I write, edit, and design. I sat down in front of my computer today, a voice in my head saying, ‘you’ll never do this again’. This thought came to me as a complicated mixture of part relief, part anxiety and part numbness, yet I cannot help but feel alarmed by a stunning lack of pride.

It really is true what they say about every daughter being their mother’s child - as much as I grew up denying this fact, time and time again I am painfully reminded of this adage. I am a hopeless perfectionist and a nervous wreck, and On Dit has been the toughest test of my weaknesses. I decided to run for On Dit late last year because I wanted something to push me outside my comfort zone and to have a project to balance out the sheer academic nightmare that is law school. It was definitely not easy at first, and I can’t say that it has gotten any easier with time. I had no real training in graphic design - I had previously only studied fine arts - and I was unfamiliar with student affairs and politics at best. And as I dived into this strange world of student media, my self-talk started to target my deep-rooted fears of inadequacy; ‘what if you can’t live up to previous years’ designs?’, ‘you’re not good at this’. And so every issue I designed was an impossible battle with myself; trying to outdo myself each time while at the same time comparing myself to past designers and trying to do it as quickly as possible. It’s hard to leave space to feel good about yourself when constantly plagued by these thoughts.

As of late, I’ve been doing some reflection on where I was when I first started On Dit. I remember being really proud of my Mock Dit designs, and feeling empowered by doing my part for student media and campus culture. I became mindful of how all these InDesign shortcuts and techniques that I now use, were all new and difficult moments of learning for me when I was designing the earlier issues. I looked back on how clumsy and rough-at-the-edges those earlier designs were in comparison to my later ones. I remember the passionate, dedicated artist I was in school, the girl who promised herself never to lose that spirit of creativity and craft, and feel grateful for the opportunity I was given to do a passion project alongside Uni and work. Yes, it was an intense challenge trying to manage my time and prioritise my mental health but I see that I came out of that journey more in-tune with myself than ever. I think of my co-editors, how we fully supported and admired each other until the end, and overcame more challenges than ever as a loud, principled, all-women team. And wouldn’t you know it - slowly, but steadily, I started to make room for pride.

The cover art for this issue is the one I made for Mock Dit. To me, it represents unbridled excitement, personal growth, and the eternal recurrence of my life. In arithmetics, 90.1 and 90.10 have the same value. So as we come full circle and conclude our chapter of On Dit, I choose not to criticise myself but to be grateful - for my hard work, my wonderful team, and the people that I love for their full support since day 1.

Thank you for reading On Dit vol. 90.