Kate Robinson is the Queen Victoria Women’s Centre’s inaugural Feminist in
Residence. I’m so delighted to speak with this incredible woman who wears
her heart on her brightly coloured sleeve and find out what makes her tick.
Kate Robinson is the Queen Victoria Women’s Centre’s inaugural Feminist in Residence. I’m so delighted to speak with this incredible woman who wears her heart on her brightly coloured sleeve and find out what makes her tick. I’m also curious to hear about this most unusual of ‘residencies’- one that will see Kate working primarily from home due to the COVID-19 pandemic.
Interview: Maria O’Dwyer Photography: Mia Mala McDonald
Maria O’Dwyer Tell me about yourself!
Kate Robinson I’m a family violence lawyer at a community legal centre. I primarily represent women through the family violence court system and, at the moment, I work out in Melbourne’s western suburbs. But I guess a big part of who I am in the world is a feminist. I think working in the justice system has accelerated a lot of my beliefs about gender inequality and structural discrimination because it can be such an oppressive, hierarchical place. One of the ways that I deal with those feelings of injustice is through craft. I previously worked at another legal service and one of the women there made amazing polymer clay pieces. She started to teach me her craft at a time when the weight of my dissatisfaction with the justice system was at a peak. Through her, I started making polymer clay earrings and it was a gateway into exploring a creative side of myself that had been dormant for years. I think there's this horrible time in teenage-hood where we're taught that art and creativity is either childish, or it has to be perfect. Craft now feels very freeing. I’m surrounded by women who work tirelessly in the community sector and wouldn’t call themselves artists, but are incredibly creative. It is a way of expressing our rage, our dissatisfaction, and our voices.
It’s interesting because craft has traditionally been considered the ‘poor cousin’ of high art. But it actually is having this incredible renaissance due in one part to that idea of accessibility – people can make it with a little practice and they can buy it without too much outlay. But you don’t often hear about that therapeutic side to it.
Yeah, absolutely. For me, craft definitely has this therapeutic function that you are talking about. It's so hard to turn off all the external stimuli that surrounds us, but there’s something so meditative about just sitting down and creating. Making something, doing something with your hands, really helps. It's funny that craft has traditionally been considered a lower form art, but also a gentle, ‘simple’ way for women to occupy themselves. Now I see craft re-emerging in this activist space. It's never been about women doing needle work in the corner, it's our way of getting together. If we are discussing overthrowing the patriarchy over our feminist cross stitch pattern, all the better.
You're from country Victoria but also from a biracial family – quite an unusual combination. How has this informed your feminism?
I grew up on a sheep farm and my mum is Iranian and my dad is Australian. So an important part of my identity is that I'm biracial. The area that I grew up in was definitely not multicultural when I was a kid, and I think that there’s something about being biracial in that space that is really interesting. I have all of the privilege of being ‘white passing’ in the city but, in the country, I was the most ethnic kid. I went to a primary school that only had 50 kids in total and I have all of the classic stories about being an ethnic kid, about coming home and wishing that I was blonde.
I distinctly remember the day that 9/11 happened, and coming out to the playground for school pickup. These families that were friends, all of a sudden were questioning my mum and it was simply because of her surname, because she was from that part of the world. When the attack first happened there were a lot of rumours about which group would take responsibility. And one of the groups that came forward had a name that was very similar to my mum's surname. And so that was flying around the playground too. I remember being sad and confused, but not having the language of racism to understand what was going on. So, to me, growing up in the country was incredible in so many ways, but also has taught me a lot about how you can hide parts of your identity to get by. And the thing is, it's a privilege because I can do that because I have a very white name, ‘Kate Robinson.’
As you say, ‘Kate Robinson’ doesn’t exactly scream ‘woman of colour’. Could you tell me a little about that, as I think that was actually a deliberate choice on your mum’s part?
It’s a classic immigrant story. She wanted me to have the best possible chance and opportunity. And she didn't want me to have the experience she had, of being discriminated against because of her name. When I was younger I had a lot of resentment that my name was so white and didn't have any connection to my Iranian cultural heritage. But now that I'm working in the justice system, which is so conservative, I understand. The first day that I got to go in court and say, “Your Honour, Ms. Robinson appearing on behalf of X…” and it was so easy; I just understood. It's taken 30 years for me to come around to my name, but now I realize why it was important for my parents to give me that ‘gift’. But I also understand the institutional racism that means it’s easier for me to be a lawyer just because of it.
You work as a lawyer in the family violence sector. What is it about this kind of work that drives you, as it must be difficult, challenging and all-consuming.
I see such strength and power from my clients. I see it also in people that I work with in the court space, who are bringing this incredibly trauma-informed feminist lens to family violence. I feel such a strong sense of comradery with this cohort of progressive, ‘let’s-change-this’ women lawyers and support workers.
What is difficult, is that I know that the justice system is very ineffective at dealing with family violence. I know that you get a different experience of the courts based on your postcode. I experience sexism from the judiciary and from older male lawyers. I get told to smile and lighten up when I’m negotiating family violence matters. And the thing that I'm constantly battling against is the idea that the system isn't actually broken – it was set up that way with patriarchy and colonialism at its core. Often my role as a family violence lawyer is to just try and give women one positive experience in an otherwise exceptionally disappointing experience. To be colourful, to speak simply, and to be a human.
You spoke earlier about how you craft to take time out from work but also as a tool for rage. Is there anything else you do to cope with the emotional load of your job?
I play football! Just last year I started playing for the first time in the WRFL. It was a way for me to push myself to do something that I'd never done before, but also to deal with work stress. I can’t explain how much of a relief it feels to be on the field and for that moment to be a person who is only focusing on my body and what it can do. And also to be okay with being bad at something – it is so freeing! It's just been fantastic!
In everything that I do, the personal is political, and there's something very political about AFLW, and the inequity in resources between men and women’s football even at a local level. So it feels important to be involved in women's football at this time. We so often talk about being in silos like the ‘progressive politics bubble’. Being involved in a football club has definitely been eye-opening in terms of getting out of the circles that I'm normally in, but also incredibly inspiring to feel such a powerful sense of sisterhood with the other women who are involved. And to see so clearly the strength of women.
Unfortunately, team sport is obviously off the cards for a little while as we’re in the midst of the COVID-19 crisis. Which also makes a “residency” like yours unique as you’ll mostly be working from home. How are you staying sane during the shutdown?
I think it's been fascinating to watch how different organizations respond to this crisis. You really see people's leadership abilities or lack thereof in these times. My hope is that this really radicalises the way people think about work, health and consumption. That it teaches us what is possible to drastically change the way we do things, so that we can start dealing with the bigger crisis - climate change.
Honestly, it’s hard to do my job from home. It’s hard having the family violence discussions infiltrate my home space which is otherwise so sacred. The feminist in residence (from home) has actually been a great escape for my brain. There is something very powerful about this time and to be creating now. But I'm coming at this from a place of such incredible privilege – I still have a job and I know that many people do not have that stability. It wasn’t quite the Feminist in Residence that I was planning for, but it's going to be exciting in its own way. It will just be a little bit different!
I know it's early days but I'd be interested to hear a bit more about your project.
Of course, but with the caveat that everything is changing at this time. The project is in two parts – a feminist oasis covered in feminist art, where you can read feminist texts and listen to stories. It will bring women and gender diverse people together in a space to create feminist works together which would then be included in the exhibition – in whatever medium, shape or form they choose.
I really hope to work with the organizations within the Centre, bringing both clients and staff members together to do some of that creating, ‘cause there's something so powerful about that process. One of the things that frustrates me about my job is the power dynamics between lawyers and clients. But as soon as you get two people – it doesn't matter if that's the CEO and that's the client that just walked in 10 minutes ago – and you sit them down to create, the hierarchies just disappear. There's also something incredibly interesting about the way that people's personalities come out while they're crafting.
The second part of the project stems from the fact that I live and work in Melbourne’s west and I'm from the country – and that's to make it mobile. To have pop-up feminist hubs or a caravan that travels to local libraries and community centres. So much art in Melbourne is CBD-centric. And women from CALD communities are disproportionally represented in the outer suburbs. This means that we often create pockets of access to art that aren’t accessible to all women and I want the feminist oasis to be for everyone.
So, that's the project idea at this stage; I'm sure it will mould. One of the ways that I’m thinking about getting people to get involved is to create a ‘tool kit’ that could be posted out so that they could create at home.
Yours is and will be a unique residency – not only because it’s the first! What would you hope to learn and what would you hope to leave behind?
In terms of learning… I wasn't born a feminist, I became one. And that's a constantly changing journey that I'm on. I have difficult conversations with my friends and family about their feminism and what that looks like and I know that there are people in my life who wouldn't necessarily call themselves a feminist, but 100% are in the way that they're living their lives. They just don't use that word and that's okay because I would much rather be surrounded by people who are doing feminism. I want to give women and gender diverse people a space to express our complicated relationships to feminism. What we are silent about? What do we want to change?
And in terms of what I want to leave behind? Hopefully a space to play, to learn about other women but also feel your journey reflected in theirs.