Call to remember the old Order of Australia

Not widely publicised among January’s rollcall of Australia Day Honours was the award given to writer Geoffrey Atherden. Formally recognised as a Member of the Order of Australia (AM), Atherden is best known for the classic television series Mother and Son which still ranks among Australia’s most beloved programs 25 years after it first went to air.

For many, Atherden’s sharply observed chronicle of a 40+ suburban male’s struggle to care for his intermittently dotty and manipulative mother represents the epitome of schadenfreude writ large. For others, the scenario of a family dynamic revolving around an ageing loved one’s dependence on their adult children simply reflects their lived reality in all its wonderful craziness.

As the burgeoning financial crisis wreaks havoc upon many Australian’s life savings and long term retirement plans however, the central premise of Mother and Son can be seen to take on a new, more pressing edge.

Baby Boomers in particular (now Greying Boomers aged between 44 and 63 years inclusive) have good reason to revisit episodes of the show, especially if their own parents, the aptly-named Forgotten Generation (now aged from 64 to 80 years inclusive), remain firmly ensconced in the autumn of their lives.

Of course, it’s entirely possible that their response to the show may not accord with that of previous viewings.

For instance, one-time allies of Arthur (Garry McDonald) and his hapless attempts to balance familial duty and devotion with personal freedom and ambition, may find their sympathies shifted more toward the ailing Maggie (Ruth Cracknell) and her battle to retain some precious self-dignity as her fading independence threatens her hopes of living out her days among her nearest and dearest.

Conversely, former fans of poor sweet Maggie and her various feints and foils (children especially tended to feel a sense of kinship with Maggie’s sense of disempowerment and delight in her victories over her smarty-pants guardians) may find they gravitate back to her beleaguered victim as the long-suffering Arthur does his very best to satisfy his mother’s every erratic whim, even if it means repeatedly putting his own plans on the backburner.

Still others might have acquired a newfound appreciation for the absentee approach adopted by Arthur’s older brother Robert (Henri Szeps) whose preternatural ability to shirk responsibility for Maggie’s health and wellbeing may once have incited the hurling of projectiles at the screen, but in light of personal experience, seems wholly reasonable. Not to mention the barbs of weary in-law Liz (Judy Morris) over just who in the household is the more psychologically crippled and in need of homecare: Maggie or Arthur.

These shifts may go some way to explaining the enduring appeal of Mother and Son - the renewed resonance that comes as each generation marches onward to inherit an eerie approximation of the same foibles and frustrations encountered by their predecessors.

Yet there is still one subset of the Australian population for whom the antics of middle-aged Arthur and his muddle-headed Mummy barely scratch the surface of the delicate adult child/elderly parent relationship. For whom the intricacies and impediments are far more complex due to a myriad of inherent cultural, linguistic and religious factors and concerns.

These are the non-Anglo contingents of the aforementioned categories: the self-proclaimed Ethnic Baby Boomers and the newly-dubbed Forgotten Ethnic Generation.

Determining the exact size and scope of these two groups is difficult and not just because ethnic self-prescription can be highly nebulous and transitory. Population breakdowns are notoriously imprecise and the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) prefers to tabulate its census figures by decades rather than generations. Nonetheless, in 2006 it is estimated that the overall number of Australians falling within the birth period of the Forgotten Generation (1929 to 1945 inclusive) counted somewhere close to two million. Of this cohort, around one in ten, or 200,000 identified as being born outside Australia in a country where English was not the language spoken.

It is these non-English speaking origins that distinguish the Forgotten Ethnic Generation from other migrants in the same age bracket. Unlike their counterparts from countries such as England, Ireland, Scotland, and New Zealand, where there are many commonalities, the obstacles to cultural adjustment encountered by members of the Forgotten Ethnic Generation were far more pronounced. A fact reiterated perhaps by the failure of Mother and Son to translate in some foreign markets. Italians apparently found the show insulting to mothers (what this might say about Italy’s celebrated mummy’s boy mentality is best left to the legion of frazzled wives and girlfriends).

Other key points of distinction for the Forgotten Ethnic Generation include preferred choice of attire and diet (the importance of familiar food is far more intense and deep-seated than many give credit for), religious and spiritual sensibilities, favoured forms of entertainment (music especially) and established social conventions regarding gender and extended family hierarchies and responsibilities.

Unfortunately, duty to tradition presented particular difficulties in the early 20th century due to the overwhelming shadow that hung over everyone of that era: the war - or to be precise, wars plural - the consequences of which drastically affected the acceptance of, and desire to maintain, overt cultural affiliations with a land and a citizenry beyond the one of desired settlement.

There are few Australians who can truly comprehend the impact of growing up in the aftermath of one world war only to be thrown headlong into another. With so few countries spared from some kind of political or military involvement, it was not simply a matter of crossing a border to safety.

Finding a place of lasting sanctuary was not easy and advertising one's background and allegiances not always wise, with Australia no exception.

By 1930 the Australian Government had instituted a virtual ban on entry for all non-British Europeans, only a year after they had terminated the assisted immigration scheme. The only exceptions to non-entry were those who could demonstrate suitable wealth or the presence of relatives already in Australia.

Then a decade later, in September 1940, the HMT (Her Majesty’s Transport) Dunera arrived in Sydney bearing a cargo of British “enemy aliens” - German and Austrian Jews who had fled the Nazis but whose ties to those former homelands deigned them an unacceptable security risk. The next May they were followed by the first Italian prisoners of war to arrive in Australia.

Clearly, this was not a time for aspiring migrants to stand out too noticeably; to highlight obvious points of differentiation. To risk being allied with the enemy or denied refuge altogether. So signs of nationality were often kept hidden from view, keepsakes and mementos were secreted away, and accents suppressed as best as could be managed.

People focused instead on keeping their head down, not creating a fuss and getting themselves and their family swiftly out of harm’s way. Then with luck, finding some sort of job to put food on the table and a roof overhead.

It was this foremost instinct to survive that infused much of their unassuming attitude toward home-life and work-life. Perspectives that make an intriguing contrast to their Ethnic Baby Boomer offspring who are just as much a product of their own circumstances, but whose circumstances were a world away from the generations preceding and the generations to follow.

Among Ethnic Baby Boomers, for example, the defining temperament is (or at least was) one of unbridled confidence; optimism over stoicism, assertiveness over acquiescence, and transition over tradition. Whereas their parents “learned to make do and feel grateful for whatever they had”, their Boomer offspring believed the world was ripe for the picking and they were the ones ready to reap the benefits. Theirs was an era of exploration and experimentation; maximum indulgence with minimal inhibition.

More crucially for the Ethnic Baby Boomers, many of whom were born in Australia, was a desire to leave behind the horrors of their parent’s darkest days, to break the shackles of the history and embrace the opportunities of life in the Lucky Country. True to the spirit of the Me Generation, they wished to forge their own path and speak with their own voice without feeling unduly encumbered by the way things used to be done back in their parent’s day, in places far, far away.

Until recently, this was manifested mainly in the choice of education and career, sexual activity and human relationships, philosophical and spiritual influences that caused the most consternation in intergenerational debates.

With world economies going into spontaneous meltdown however, it is the subject of ageing and aged care that is suddenly leaping to the forefront as countless well-laid plans are torn asunder or tossed out the window.

On one hand are the Forgotten Ethnic Generation, who tend to regard aged care as one domain where the options proffered by bureaucrats are by definition grossly inferior to those provided by family and friends. A belief founded on the expectation that younger family members will reciprocate the care given by their elders as the latter become sickly, frail and incapacitated in an authentic ethnic and cultural context.

On the other hand are the Ethnic Baby Boomers who like to think that the modern aged care system in Australia should have progressed to a point that all seniors, irrespective of cultural, ethnic or linguistic background, can expect to have their special needs suitably and sensitively catered for.

This divergence in views can make for painful confrontations between loved ones. Even when older parties agree that the general aged care system should better reflect the needs of Australia’s diverse seniors population, the realisation that their children would feel more comfortable delegating their primary care-giving responsibilities to others outside the family can be quite shattering.

A dedicated campaign to educate Ethnic Baby Boomer and the Forgotten Ethnic Generation about these issues would do much to prompt much-needed discussions about what constitutes “duty of care” and “obligation to prepare.”

That is not to say that such conversations will be easy. Any reflection on the costs of human mortality and the value of close family ties is bound to be awkward, embarrassing and potentially traumatic for all involved. Hence the need for a supportive and sensitive atmosphere complete with suitably trained counsellors, especially when it appears likely that the expectations of one party are in discord with the wishes of the other.

What is certain is this is an issue that won’t go away and the tendency for some families to avoid the discussion, whether inadvertently or by design, can only serve to exacerbate the tension and distress caused when the moment for serious decisions inevitably does arrive.

Then again, if the whole process of ageing and aged care was simple, straight-forward and free of misunderstanding, millions of families in Australia and around the world wouldn’t have found Mother and Son anywhere near as funny, familiar and cathartic.

I have no doubt that psychologists and aged care professionals were among the first to applaud the recent honour bestowed upon Geoffrey Atherden last month. Many appreciate that his uncompromising (albeit comically enhanced) depiction of the everyday plight of dementia sufferers and the stress on their families shone a vital light upon an aspect of our society that continues to be treated with indifference, suspicion and frustrating levels of ignorance.

We can only hope that a similar measure of attention will soon be finally afforded to another order of Australians whose struggles and contributions have gone unremembered for far too long. Whether they are our direct family or not, these Forgotten Ethnic generations helped form the backbone of this nation and it is a debt that all of us are obliged to help repay.