Australia Day
Australia Day (January 26) doesn’t mean much to me at all. It’s nice to have a holiday, but like the Queen’s Birthday and Labor Day, the historical meaning of this holiday is not cause for celebration in itself.
For a day to have significance it needs to mark something significant.
January 26 was the date British soldiers, sailors and convicts arrived in Sydney to found the penal colony of New South Wales. They actually landed a few days earlier at Botany Bay, but couldn’t find water, so headed upshore a little to Port Jackson.
Dates that do have significance for me are Christmas, Easter and Anzac Day.
There’s been a lot of PR effort from all levels of government go into promoting Australia Day over the past 20 years, without much success.
It’s hard to contrive nationalist fervor about the launch of a convict settlement, even if that was the inauspicious beginning of a great country.
Some people suggest Anzac Day should be the national day, but that’s a day of reflection, almost spiritual, and should remain sacred.
Our Federation of the six colonies would be worth celebrating, but the founding fathers had no marketing sense when they planned it to occur on January 1, which is already a holiday and everyone’s hungover.
Nobody knows for sure when the first man, black or white, stepped foot in Australia, so that’s out. The Melbourne Cup and AFL grand final are already celebrated and don’t need more official sanction than they already have.
We used to have Empire Day and Victoria Day, but they passed away into the mists of time.
I seriously believe we need a summit of community leaders to tackle this question. We should look at meaningful events in Australian history and reach consensus on one that can be developed as a national day.
Consider the Eureka Stockade, for example, which is a good one, but too controversial. Others might include the Bourke and Wills expedition and victory against Japan. The event needs to be significant and not parochial in terms of location or politics.
Trying to promote January 26 is like the proverbial flogging of a dead horse.
I'm a 41-year-old father of four working as a newspaper editor at Mount Gambier in South Australia.
