Yesterday at ReKindle, we witnessed a profound illustration of Australia's youth justice paradox. Two tables existed simultaneously – one physical, one virtual – each telling a different story about power, privilege, and possibility in our society.

A Tale of Two Tables

At the first table, under open skies, young people moved with purpose, cooking traditional foods alongside mentors. Gamilaraay woman and Commissioner Natalie Lewis sat with her Queensland Family and Child Commission team, while local Uncles and Aunties watched on. The air was filled with conversation, laughter, and the aroma of shared meals.

The second table existed only through pixels and prison walls – a young person joining us virtually from Brisbane Youth Detention Centre. Their voice, clear and confident, cut through the digital divide to share truths about survival in a system designed to contain rather than nurture.

The Power of Contrast

This stark juxtaposition revealed something profound about how our society wields power. One space represented liberation – young people moving freely, creating, contributing, connecting with culture and community. The other space embodied control – a young person constrained by a system built on colonial foundations of surveillance and punishment.

The young person on screen spoke about reentry with a wisdom that challenged the system's narrative. They talked about distrust – not as a personal failing, but as a rational response to institutional betrayal. They described the lack of support not as an oversight, but as a feature of a system designed to maintain social order rather than foster genuine transformation.

Beyond the Prison of Privilege

The current youth justice narrative serves those furthest from its impact. Politicians campaign on promises of safety, media outlets profit from fear, and privileged voters sleep better believing that punishment equals protection. This is what philosophers call "biopower" – the way institutions manage and control populations through fear, policy, and prejudice.

But yesterday showed us a different kind of power. We saw:
- Young people as creators, not criminals
- Elders as wisdom-keepers, not bystanders
- Community as the answer, not the problem

ReKindle's Revolution: Building a New System

At ReKindle, we're not just operating outside government funding streams – we're challenging the very epistemology of youth justice. We reject:
- The notion that punishment leads to transformation
- The idea that young people need to be "managed" rather than mentored
- The false choice between community safety and youth empowerment

Instead, we're building a village based on:
- Indigenous ways of knowing and healing
- Authentic relationships that acknowledge struggle and growth
- Multiple pathways to belonging and becoming

The Politics of Fear vs. The Power of Connection

The system maintains itself through what philosophers call "disciplinary power" – creating docile bodies through surveillance, punishment, and the threat of incarceration. This approach particularly targets Indigenous youth, perpetuating colonial patterns of control.

Yesterday showed us the alternative. When the young person from detention spoke about their fears and hopes, they weren't speaking to a system – they were speaking to a community. Commissioner Lewis's questions weren't about management strategies; they were about understanding, about seeing the whole person behind the statistics.

Reimagining Justice

The current system asks: "How do we stop young people from offending?"
We ask: "How do we help young people belong?"

The system invests in walls and warnings.
We invest in relationships and possibilities.

The system sees young people through the lens of risk.
We see them through the lens of potential.

A Call to Action

I was once a young person pushing against authority, searching for identity in rebellion. The difference between my story and many others wasn't in the anger – it was in who was there to help channel it.

That's why yesterday mattered. While one young person spoke to us through prison walls, others were building community through the simple act of preparing and sharing food. Both scenarios show us what's at stake in how we approach youth justice:

- Will we build more prisons, or more pathways?
- Will we invest in punishment, or possibility?
- Will we choose fear, or will we choose faith in our young people?

The Path Forward

The answer isn't in white papers or election promises. It was visible yesterday in:
- The pride in young people's eyes as they served food they'd prepared
- The wisdom in Elders' presence and support
- The courage of a young person speaking truth from behind walls
- The commitment of community leaders willing to listen and learn

We stand at a crossroads in youth justice. One path leads to more surveillance, more punishment, more fear. The other leads to what we witnessed yesterday – community, connection, and the possibility of genuine transformation.

The choice is ours. But remember: every day we choose fear over faith, punishment over possibility, we're not just failing our young people. We're failing our own humanity.

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*Written in reflection after a profound gathering at ReKindle, where the simple act of sharing food became a powerful metaphor for the choice between punishment and possibility in youth justice.*

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