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When I was in year 11, I won an essay competition. The subject was ‘The voting age should be lowered to 16. Discuss’. I was actually 16 at the time and totally for the vote. I had a few points, the fact that young people can join the army and die for their country, get a job and pay tax (if not income tax, then certainly GST); the fact that young people deal with specific issues which are not experienced in such large volumes by the ordinary population (I think I focused on mental health); and the fact that there is plenty of evidence to suggest that young people are socially and politically engaged (and the subsequent explosion of social media within the last six years more than attests to this).

There was a wider context to my arguments though. At the time, Australia was in the midst of over a decade of conservative governance (with pretty much the same conservative government and the same Prime Minister). It felt like young people were more progressive, that some of the problems I found with conservatism could have been solved by lowering the voting age. We had mock elections in school sometimes so that we could learn about how democracy works. Progressive parties always came in first at my school.

I still think that the vote should be extended to people below the age of 18, and I still have the same reasoning (and in all likelihood, the same bias towards the election of progressive governments).

Not all of my opinions have remained static over the last six years. I no longer think higher education should be free, I no longer think that blink 182 is the best band EVAH. But as I’m getting older, it is becoming more and more apparent to me how much the voices and opinions of young people are marginalised and derided as ill-informed, overly idealistic, lacking in fiduciary responsibility. It has coloured my own memories of growing up, particularly as a teenager.

The reality is that, even with the ‘protection’ of the school yard, young people are hurtled into ‘real life’, even if adults wished they weren’t. My peers and I experienced diverse and sometimes difficult realities. Divorce was common, though not as common as mental illness. At the same time, some of my peers were dealing with issues of sexuality, homelessness, complicated and sometimes abusive relationships, drugs, alcohol, body image, bullying (sometimes from authority), and violence. It was never like an episode of Degrassi or anything, but young people in general face social problems as a matter of course.

What’s interesting is that like many other marginalised groups in the world, where policy-makers and principals do (on seldom occasion) try to address some issues, it is done so with a top-down approach. Sometimes, it’s decided that young people simply need to be ‘more disciplined’ and are punished more harshly in schools (and sometimes in the criminal justice system). The role of parents and teachers in ‘controlling’ and ‘protecting’ kids is politicised. Teenagers in particular are vilified, and their acting out against the forces directed towards them (both on a structural and personal basis) can mean that society creates criminals out of a context of trauma. But what if the real solution was to listen to what young people were saying? Is it possible to imagine a way forward where the opinions and experiences of young people meant something? Perhaps with a vote, perhaps in helping to devise positive steps forward. Is it possible to imagine a world where young people are respected?

A young person actually lives in a complex reality which is not always sheltered and is fundamentally deserving of consideration. Their interests don’t arise solely from Justin Bieber merchandise (though no doubt that influences many), but from the same world that adults live in. A lot of the grittiness young people face could be dealt with on a political level, but it’ll only work if society at large works with them, not against them. This is why young people deserve representation at that level (and probably why the vote wouldn’t even begin to scratch the surface).

As an aside, National Youth Week starts on April 13.

(note: I’ve also emailed him a copy. If you feel similarly as I do, please write to him, his email is: chris.bowen@immi.gov.au)

Dear Chris Bowen,

I voted in my first election in 2007, and I did so for the ALP. I figured that after the conservatism and the xenophobia of the Howard government, a Labor alternative would be a breath of fresh air. It would bring progression and compassion back into Australian politics.

I am disappointed. If anything, your policies on asylum seekers are worse than that of the Howard government, a feat I would have thought impossible. I will not be voting for your party again any time soon. But what is at stake here is more than votes. You and your ALP colleagues will soon be directly responsible for killing Ismail, an asylum seeker from Afghanistan. You insist on sending him back to Afghanistan, alleging that he is in no danger there. This is despite that his father was killed by the Taliban and that his family have sought asylum to Pakistan. He has said that ‘I told Immigration it’s OK if they send me, you can send my dead body to my country because either way I’m dead.’

Now, think with empathy for a moment. How would you feel if you were detained for two years despite not having any criminal charges, let alone convictions. How would you feel if in detention you witnessed three suicides and a riot? And how would you feel if a government literally sent you to death? If those two years in detention were in vain, if the final moments of your life had nothing - no knowledge, no freedom. And for what? So listeners of talk-back radio can feel happy? For the saved $400 a fortnight in Centrelink payments? So that a crumbling government can win a few votes? For what? That’s what I want to know, and what Ismail deserves to know, and what you should be responsible for telling him.

The complete and utter disregard for human life exemplified by the ALP’s policies deeply sickens me. And indeed, so does the way in which asylum seekers - especially those arriving by boat - have been bandied about in discourse to score political points, to create an unnecessary atmosphere of fear, and to create demons in people smugglers where in fact terrorists and oppressive governments are the true villains. This issue is precisely why Australia is a frustrating place to live in for those who have some semblance of empathy (not to mention common-sense).

You are lucky that the media, in its duopolistic and deeply conservative way, is unlikely to make a huge fuss over this. This is your gain. But it is at a huge cost to the world.