So, who do we want to be?

When Adam Goodes tells us that when he hears the boos and he feels in his guts that they’re about the colour of his skin and his culture, do we choose to ignore him?

Do we prioritise our freedom of expression - even if we feel it’s misunderstood - over the clearly profound impact it may have on someone else?

Do we bench empathy and give into selfishness and the petty obnoxiousness that is freely on offer in the anonymity of crowds?

Are we so wrapped up in ourselves that we simply refuse to walk a mile in the shoes of a man who has carried himself with pride and dignity yet is clearly wounded by the hostility and the hate?

Are we going to demonise a man whose career is littered with accolades and achievements and not blemished by the sorts of misdemeanours so common amongst his contemporaries?

No drug taking, violence against women, sleeping with your team mates wife, consorting with bikkie gangs and known gangsters or fighting in nightclubs.

No, all of those things are easily forgiven.

In fact, those guys end up on your TV screens and on your radio as the face and voice of the game. 

Which shame is greater? 

That we live so comfortably with that double standard or that we continue to justify it with a gutless character assassination that bears no relation to reality?

Just how many of those that offer their voices to the chorus of condemnation would dare look Adam Goodes in the eye and express their contempt for him?

In the crowd its easy, unthinking, ugly and powerful. Yes, power. That’s at the heart of it.

When you side with the baying mob that sense of power and dominance must feel great. 

The sanctuary of crowds has aways been a place where our darker angels have flourished. 

So when they come calling for you next time you’re choosing to boo - ask yourself.

So who do we really want to be?

Because the sound of the crowd says a hell of a lot more about who we really are in our hearts than it ever does about Adam Goodes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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