New photographic exhibition We Bleed the Same shines light on Australians' experiences of racism
Ernie Friedlander was just seven years old when he and his mother were marched to a gas chamber in Nazi Germany.
"We were walking for about four or five hours, it was winter, it was 1944 and it started to get dark," he said.
Towards the end of their journey, a German soldier approached the pair and whispered something to Ernie's mother. A few minutes later, she suggested Ernie stop to help with her shoelaces.
"As I went down to fix her laces, she grabbed me and we rolled down the side of the road," he said.
"The German soldier took a huge risk because he suggested it to her, and if they found out he would have been shot."
At 15, Ernie travelled to Australia and dedicated his life to educating young people about racism, promoting respect for diversity and an inclusive society.
Now, the Holocaust survivor's journey is just one of an array of stories shared as part of a new photographic exhibition at the Australian National University (ANU), called We Bleed the Same.
More than 30 striking portraits were taken for the exhibition and each tells a different, deeply personal story about experiences of racism, intolerance and fleeing persecution.
'If I used my name, I was beaten'
An example of racism, closer to home, on display in the exhibition, is depicted through a portrait of James Michael 'Widdy' Welsh.
Uncle Widdy is a Stolen Generations survivor who was a part of the Kinchela Boys Home — used for more than 50 years to house Indigenous boys who had been forcibly removed from their families.
"I was told I would be number 36," he said.
"If I used my name I was beaten, abused, treated less than an animal."
Now an adult, Uncle Widdy said he had lost his "culture, identity and family".
"I spent my whole life trying to drink my pain away, suffering, in and out of prison for 45 years. I'm still learning about my heritage and trying to heal," he said.
"People say we were stolen. I don't like that word, I'm not an object. I'm a human being who was kidnapped from my family, thanks to a racist government policy."
The father of 10 is now the treasurer of the Kinchela Boys Home Aboriginal Corporation in Sydney, which is committed to providing peer support to other survivors and their families, as well as rebuilding and strengthening identity, family structures and services.
Exhibition inspired by personal experiences of racism
Curator Liz Deep-Jones has been working toward the exhibition for over 20 years, spurred on by her own experiences of racism in Australia.
"My parents were immigrants and we grew up subjected to racism," she said.
"I had people say to me, 'oh, you're pretty for a Lebanese girl', 'go back to where you came from', 'do you speak English?'."
Ms Deep-Jones said her father constantly "faced extreme forms of racism", but he always stood up for himself. She said he had a real sense of belonging in Australia, but it took her a while longer to reach the same level of self-acceptance.
"I had a lot of trouble with traversing the two cultures. I felt like I didn't look like an Aussie — I don't have blonde hair and blue eyes, I spoke Arabic," she said.
"I was embarrassed about speaking my language in front of my friends, I was ashamed."
But in the years since, Ms Deep-Jones has dedicated herself to spreading awareness about the impacts of racism and intolerance.
"I wanted to do something to combat racism myself, and use this platform of art to make a change and make a difference," she said.
A number of immigrants, refugees, First Nations people and people from diverse backgrounds volunteered their time for the project, which will be on show at the ANU for at least the next six months.
The exhibition's photographer, Tim Bauer, has been in the industry for more than 40 years and said he jumped at the opportunity to capture real people with real stories.
"It has been incredible, and the stories that we've heard have brought me to tears so many times. I just can't wait to keep investigating this project, because, for me, it doesn't stop here" he said.
"I'm definitely the most proud of this [project] by far."
Reflecting Australia's diversity
A prominent symbol of Australia, a Hills Hoist clothesline, stands in the middle of the artworks – an invitation for visitors to share their own stories as part of the exhibition.
Hanging from red strings, Ms Deep-Jones said the threads of photos represented "the bonds that tie us". Read More...
