“What Are Some Issues That Indigenous Australians Still Face and Some Solutions” Essay Example for Free

â€Å"What Are Some Issues That Indigenous Australians Still Face and Some Solutions† Essay We have all heard of the stolen generation in Australia’s history, and know of the issues and problems the indigenous Australians faced and although modern times for indigenous Australians are a lot better than previous times, they are still faced with many issues. These include education leading onto high unemployment, remoteness of some living lands, problems proving rightful lands and culture clashes of today. However some solutions I think will work are mentioned later on, which I think could possibly help future generations to come. Education and high unemployment are all issues that the indigenous aboriginals face. They have the lowest attendance rates and this leads onto high unemployment rates. Some aboriginals do not believe in European education, and others it is sometimes too far for them to travel to get proper education. This all has future effects on the children that do not attend school, as they are unable to be employed and therefore cannot lead a better life. It is a cycle that will continue until something is done. I believe that we should build more schools so the children can attend it daily, and for those who do not believe in European education, I believe that we should have a regular consulter who ever week will talk to the adults to try and convince them and change their views (gently), and not only that, but check on the children and make sure they are attending school. I think governments should help schools who have this commonly occur, and have a consulter and check up on the kids who haven’t been attending. The next issue is remoteness of land that leads to lack of proper facilities, and problems with proving rightful land. Some indigenous Australians prefer to live on their ancestor’s land and continue traditional life; however sometimes these places are too remote for proper facilities. Facilities such as health, education and more are too far to reach. I think we should build more facilities nearer to the lands so they are now closer and can get use them. The next problem is a big one. Ancestral land is vital to indigenous culture and is a link to their past, so when they lose that important land, it is hard to win it back as a lot of evidence must be given. I believe we should reduce the amount of evidence given, and depending on case to case, give it up easier. Because without their land they have lost their culture, their land and are displaced within society. The last issue I will mention is culture clash. Here in the modern world,there is not much room for other cultures. It is a major role within many indigenous Australian lives, however its customs sometimes clash with the new beliefs creating strains on the younger generations beliefs. I believe we should create more schools, meant mainly (but not only for) aboriginals, which encourage many of their cultures and customs which will help encourage the younger generations to connect with it. So although there is still many issues that many indigenous Australians face, I believe that they can all be solved with enough time, effort and belief, we can make it better for them.

Stanley Fish :: Political Politics Essays

Stanley Fish It is one of the minor symptoms of the mental decline of the United States that Stanley Fish is thought to be on the Left. By some of his compatriots, anyway, and no doubt by himself. In a nation so politically addled that 'liberal' can mean 'state interventionist' and 'libertarianism' letting the poor die on the streets, this is perhaps not wholly unpredictable. Stanley Fish, lawyer and literary critic, is in truth about as left-wing as Donald Trump. Indeed, he is the Donald Trump of American academia, a brash, noisy entrepreneur of the intellect who pushes his ideas in the conceptual marketplace with all the fervour with which others peddle second-hand Hoovers. Unlike today's corporate executive, however, who has scrupulously acquired the rhetoric of consensus and multiculturalism, Fish is an old-style, free-booting captain of industry who has no intention of clasping both of your hands earnestly in his and asking whether you feel comfortable with being fired. He fancies himself as an intellectual boot-boy, the scourge of wimpish pluralists and Nancy-boy liberals, and that ominous bulge in his jacket is not to be mistaken for a volume of Milton. In a series of audacious bounds, then, we have argued our way from a 'radical' anti-foundationalism to a defence of the Free World. This leaves Fish in the enviable position of accruing cultural capital to himself by engaging in avant-garde theory while continuing to defend the world of Dan Quayle. A superficially historicist, materialist case - our beliefs and assumptions are embedded in our practical forms of life - leads not only to a kind of epistemological idealism, but to the deeply convenient doctrine that our way of life cannot be criticised as a whole. For who would be doing the criticising? Not us, since we cannot leap out of our local cultural skins to survey ourselves from some Olympian viewpoint; and not them either, since they inhabit a different culture which is incommensurable with our own. They may think that we are raiding their raw materials and exploiting their labour power, but that is just because they have never heard of the civilising mission of the West. The felicitous upshot is that nobody can ever criticise Fish, since if their criticisms are intelligible to him, they belong to his cultural game and are thus not really criticisms at all; and if they are not intelligible, they belong to some other set of conventions entirely and are therefore irrelevant.

My Story – It all started when I was driving down Bullet Avenue

It all started when I was driving down Bullet Avenue. I was on the night shift, I work for the L.A.P.D, and I'd been working for L.A.P.D for longer than I care to remember. I've seen a lot, a lot of nasty things that most people wouldn't want to know happen or see happen for that matter; some call it the stuff of dreams, I call it the stuff of nightmares. Anyway, a familiar voice mumbled out of the radio. It was my mentor Jimmy, he had shown me the ropes when I was just a kid, we went through the good the bad and the very ugly, he was my friend if there was at least one person I could trust in this world it would be Jimmy. I remember what he said like it was yesterday ‘Hey Max, we had a report of a disturbance in some apartment block on 6th Avenue. Could you go check it out?† I naturally said yes. I took a left at 4th because of the road works ahead. When I arrived I got out of the car and there was this certain coldness in the air, a sick smell that normally told me something wasn't right. To my right there were some tramps, or rough sleepers as they are formally called, huddling up in the ally trying to keep warm in the cold night. I looked a little closer and noticed that that wasn't the only thing they were doing. A needle appeared in one of their hands I thought I wouldn't intrude on their good time just in case a needle was not the only thing they were carrying. I strolled past them, without even a blink they carried on. I got to the entrance of the apartment block and opened the old double pine doors and was not surprised to see it was just like every other apartment on the block. A dirty mess of old newspapers and furniture scrolled out on the floor like a typhoon had just hit. There was stairs straight ahead of me and a couple more rough sleepers who seemed to be oblivious to the fact that I had just walked in. Both were next to each other, they were so absorbed by the drugs they didn't even seem to look alive just a cold long dead stare out of the far window, the drug they had just injected was strange, not any drug I new of, and I knew every single one that anyone was using . I got a glimpse of the formula, a clear slime green liquid in the syringe. I decided to come back later and take a sample. But for now I would pursue the disturbance. I followed the wooden stairs up into a long corridor and then I stopped dead in my tracks as the faint sound of voices came from the door with the big dent in it. I moved closer so I could hear what the conversation was about, I couldn't quite make out the words but the voices were clearly of a man and a woman. I had now reached the door. I moved to the side and then an ear piercing scream sunk through the walls, it lasted for a couple of seconds then everything went silent. I had already reached for my gun, but at this, with one kick, the door was down. I appeared to be in the living room. The place was a mess: books on the floor, tables knocked over, and cupboards open. I looked down and a trail of burning red blood grabbed my attention. It lead into the room opposite. The disturbance I was called to checkout had now turned into a possible murder enquiry. I was starting to think that this could get very dangerous. As I moved towards the opposite room the trail of blood got thicker and more apparent a murder had been committed. I leaned to the side and with a forward role into the room I swung my gun out and was ready to face the culprit but I was faced with something almost completely different and more horrifying. A dead women her cold dead eyes and the pail expression told me that she had been the victim of a vicious stab wound this was confirmed by the incredibly horrific gash in her side, throat and left leg. By the way she was dressed I'd say she was a prostitute but the question was who killed her and who her client was. Instead of the average everyday cops who just ask questions and sit in there cosy little office eating donuts, I think actions speak louder then words so I get out in the field, probably because I don't have a home life, that had been taken away from me along time ago but back to the situation in hand I started to look through her possessions. I new it was her apartment because I recognized her face in the photos sprawled out on the bed-side table. I found various documents that suggested that she hung out with the wrong type of people in simple terms people who had various powers around town â€Å"gangsters†. But I was still yet to find the murder weapon. I'm not like the cops in the movies always calling for back up I could do it on my own. I eventually heard the familiar sound of sirens that usually made me uneasy but this time just made my movement quicker and more fluent. I was now determined to find the vital clues that I needed to possibly solve this mystery and make me feel like I've earned my pay. suddenly it hit me a white little card with the writing papa Vitto's pizza restaurant laying in the cool, burgundy red blood I picked it up Vitto was associated with some of those people I was talking about earlier he was not a the type of man you would mess with, for example, his wife was found out to be having an affair, the guy she had the affair with was later found floating down the river in three separate suitcases and Vittos wife wasn't found at all but the thing was if Vitto liked you it was quite an advantage he could do things for you, give you what you wanted but if you were one of the unlucky ones Vitto did not like, kind of like me then you might as well leave town. I thought I would I'd pay him a visit since he or one of his thugs was the prime suspect. Since it had been so long since I had my encounter with vitto, I decided to arrange a meeting with him first and not drop in uninvited. I new where one of his many associates hung out so I went to arrange it with a little persuading he did what I said. When I got to the pizza place if you could call it that, It was just like I remembered it a dump, it was a small building backed on to a dock with warn out and stained walls and almost shattered windows, at night it was like a haunted hell house I opened the huge double doors and approached the counter I had that strange feeling where something didn't quite feel right I got to the counter and rang the bell it was just as bad inside than outside, tables and chairs scattered everywhere. After a while of waiting I smelt the unnatural smell of gas which numbed the reality that I had been set up I dashed for the front double doors which by this time had been somehow locked I don't think it was a coincidence I had been lured in like a mouse to cheese. I made a dash for the back door through the kitchen it was blocked with a huge wooden cabinet there was no point moving it. it looked at least 500 pounds just when I was reflecting on my life and thinking of the shattered dreams and lost loved ones. I then caught a glimpse of a shiny object in the corner of my eye. I had been given a second chance it was an axe I grabbed it with a tough grip and saw my target I ran towards the cabinet swinging the axe about like a man possessed the axe hit with such a force that the cabinet doors shattered like glass on a concrete floor. It gave me new hope so I kept hacking and hacking the cabinet disappeared within a flash one swipe with the axe and the door was gone too. I jumped out on to the peer and made a leap for the water the cold icy feeling numbed me to my brain while I was submerged all I could hear was the almost fatal sound of the pizza place becoming a crater in the ground. After this experience the option of lying low looked good to me so I spent a bit of time sweating it out in my friend Jimmy's apartment. Then I would be back on that case like a kid eating cake.

Why Do An Internship This Semester - 1889 Words

I chose to do an internship this semester. Why? That is a question that I have been asking myself throughout these past sixteen weeks. What I came up with is probably what almost everyone says, to get credits for graduation. Other than that, I chose to do an internship so that I am able to learn more about the administrative side and accounting side of owning or managing a business. This directly relates to my personal and professional goals by, giving me the experience that I am going to need once I one day take over my family business, which is where I am interning at. As for other personal goals, it’s helping me achieve my goal of getting a college degree in business management and also two minors in accounting and human resource. But most importantly it has shown me how dedicated and organized you have to be in order to run and manage a business and that was one of my professional goals, to learn how to do that, and that is something that I am learning. I have learned so m uch from working this internship at my family company. I have learned that owing and managing your own business is not all peaches and roses, it is some serious hard work. While doing this experience, I have learned how to do mostly accounting things and also I was able to sit in with the executives during some of their meetings. The accounting side of it, I was taught how to go in and enter checks into Quick Books, I was taught how to fill out deposit slips and was in charge of making sure they gotShow MoreRelatedField Placement Reflection Report : Humber Business School1396 Words   |  6 PagesField Placement Reflection Report Humber Business School Global Business Management Placement Coordinator – Viji Prakash Employer: Position: Objectives: Describe your field internship objectives. 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