“If you do that…well, well, well…” 

My mother’s on the verge of tears.

“If anyone asks me if  you’re my daughter… I won’t say yes,” she purses her lips. 

She looks at my sister, Clea.

Clea stares back. Defiant.

My sister has been arguing with my mother for the last couple of hours about wearing jeans pants to church. Now, the moment has come and she’s donned the contentious denim. With her head held high, she walks out of the door.   

Behind Clea, my other sister and I emerge from the bedroom. We are wearing dresses with giant peach bows and scratchy orange tulle underneath. 

My mother smiles.

*

Fast-forward to seven months later… I can still remember the moment I started questioning everything.

It was a cool Sunday evening. We were standing in a semi-circle on the cobblestone pavement outside Saint Mary’s Church.

Waking up from the dull drudgery of the weekly obligatory Catholic mass – I looked at my mother with a sense of surprise. I zoomed above me and all of us – and realized – Woah! 

She’s wearing jeans pants…to CHURCH!

*

Years later, Clea is back in the battleground.

This time the point of contention is auditory – she wants to get a Walkman. This is a device in which you place a cassette tape and attach headphones so that only you hear the music.

My mother is irate. 

Why do you need this Walkman? 

You will ruin your hearing – listening to headphones all day. 

Why can’t you listen to music with the rest of us?

Clea is defiant…again.

She continues her campaign. 

On Christmas Day, Clea is the first member of the Fernandes family to have a Walkman. My father caved and bought it – much to my mother’s disdain.

The next year, without even so much as a squeak from the two of us, you’ll never guess what my other sister and I got for Christmas?

Yep. Two unearned walkmans given to us by a very doting mother, happy to give us something we will really love and use.

*

When you are advocating for change, it is a lonely, lonely, lonely journey. 

You need to have relentless persistence and a steadfast belief in what you want. You need to have the courage to be ostracized.

Clea is the eldest sister. 

She had to fight so many fights with our parents. Things like wearing jeans pants to church, getting a Walkman or going to a friend’s house for a sleepover.

Clea was fighting our parents’ way of thinking. 

Even though she felt the very very real push back and resistance from it…she never stopped.

She had to  lobby, advocate and persist for the right to do the things my parents didn’t do or own. Not when they were children growing up in the 1950s in Mangalore, India – nor even as adults in their 40s.

Too often, the people on whose behalf you are advocating – they don’t even recognize the gift of what you’re doing. 

I’m not proud to say it – but I never really approved of or supported her. I thought, why can’t she wear a fluffy dress? Or why does she need to get a Walkman?

Once the Big Fight had been fought and won… well the behaviour seemed normalized. 

After every stand-off with my parents – the benefits Clea won quickly trickled down to us. Within months, we too were very afforded jeans-wearing and walkman-having privileges. 

We never really thanked Clea or our Mother for these newly earned privileges. It was almost like  – we just all assumed that this is the way it had always been.

Being a culture maker, the first child or being Teenage Clea – takes a lot of energy. It is lonely BUT important work. The kudos never really comes and the resistance feels way too painful at times.

When I asked Clea to read this article – she had a good laugh. She remarked how she felt like she was always engaged in some kind of campaign or the other. Always lining up the arguments in her head, grumbling to convince my father…that, No, 7:30p.m is not a good bedtime for a teenager. 

Why? She knew in her heart what she was asking for wasn’t unreasonable. At times, Clea said she did resent how easily her campaigns changed our lives – but ultimately, she felt happy that we were all benefiting from the shift. 

“The fight within me has died down”

Last night, I spoke to Clea. She said – she realised how much more energy and passion she had as a teenager to fight the Good Fight. 

She said to me: “It’s a lot easier when the only people you have to convince are Mum and Dad. When it comes to speaking to this department and that department… well, the system just wears you out.”

I include this because I think it is important for many reasons. The amount of energy it takes to live in an OPPRESSIVE world – is exhausting. 

The systems, the banks, the lines, the red tape, the power differential and the never-ending extractive labour – is exhausting.

That is literally the definition of oppression.

So – while I remember the Teenage Fiery Clea… I also want to hold with compassion the exhausted 30-something Clea.

This is the complexity – all of us – who have taken it on to do something in our lives – have to navigate. 

Yes. Wearing jeans pants to Church is a reasonable request. 

Yes. We need to be relentless. 

And yes, we can feel tired and exhausted too.