The Weight of Words

(written for the Glibal Rmpathy Conference 2026)

By Ruby Antonia Rose Hand

We all know the old adage ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me’. This has been a commonly accepted truth for generations. However, discrimination through words often intersects across multiple identities, whether that be gender, race, age, disability or culture. Words have weight. They can be used to empower and uplift or to disempower, intimidate or dishearten. Words are powerful and they start with you.

What starts with thoughts then transpires to words that ultimately manifest themselves as actions. Discrimination evolves in a similar fashion.

Nobody should be defined by their skin colour, hair colour, religious beliefs, culture, ethnicity or gender. We all bleed the same, we all hurt the same, we all laugh and cry in the same language. No one should ever be deliberately discriminated against just because they are different. We all breathe the same air, live in the same world, sleep under the same moon and wake to the same sun. We all feel emotions, we all make mistakes; so why do we still feel the need to degrade others for not looking or living the same way as us?

The fact is, our world isn’t perfect.

We do not live in a place where we all believe everyone should belong. Many are afraid to break patterns that had been set in stone so many years ago and our hunger for needing to be superior to others worsens. Modern society’s harmful actions are still encouraged by many despite the societal progress made in our modern world.

Discrimination is found in schools, workplaces or through social media and other platforms. For most teenagers, schools are one of the many places where these hate crimes take place. This is severely damaging towards young minds, considering that bullying is a major contributor to youth suicide rates, with victims up to four times more likely to experience suicidal thoughts. The prolonged impact of this being depression and anxiety.

Social media plays a large role as well. It can help spread awareness, promote inclusivity and give the youth in the community a voice. But social media can also amplify negativity, hate and stereotyping. Most people find safety behind their screens typing things they wouldn't say to your face.

We are all more alike than we would care to admit. Nobody should have to feel misplaced or lonely because they are “different”. No one is more superior, no one is better than another.

Discrimination kills. A prime example from history was that of the Holocaust where six million Jewish people were exterminated. That’s six million Jewish men, women and children; some children only a matter of months old. All because someone felt that those of Aryan race were racially superior. Innocent lives stolen before they had the chance to experience life to the fullest because they were viewed as inferior. Shamefully, society does not often learn from history and history then repeats itself.  Unfortunately, a similar discriminatory attack against the Jewish people happened only recently on the shores of Bondi Beach in Australia, reminding us that cruel actions are borne through discrimination.

There is no solution to a worldwide problem if no one steps back and realises how bad it has really become.

Stop normalising discrimination and hate crimes. Don’t be the reason someone feels misplaced in the game of life. Let empathy guide you. Be open to understanding others’ lived experiences.  Recognise what discrimination does to others and be willing to live a life in a world where ‘different but equal’ prevails.

Fractured Reflection

by Ruby Antonia Rose Hand

My vision blurred open to see the red flashing numbers on my clock. I got up as usual, went to school, slept, and repeated. But today felt different. Nothing felt
right. Everyone around me looked… weird, uncanny, the eldritch city was collapsing before my very eyes.
I slumped in my chair, the lecture hall felt eerie, and every word my teacher said was muffled by my own thoughts. Why did I feel so on edge? Why did I
feel so misplaced in the puzzle piece of life?
The bell screeched.
The sound snapping me out of my thoughts. I walked through the halls, my lethargy weighing me down. As I exited, the crisp evening air bit at my face,
and I put my self-heating jacket on and walked towards the teleportation platform to my street.
“June!” Annie exclaims with urgency.
“Hey Annie, what is-” Annie cuts me off before I can finish my sentence. She holds a mirror up to my face.
“Look.” She says sharply.
I looked at my reflection, but I didn’t look like me; I looked like everyone I walked past on the street. The last time I saw myself in the mirror was in New
York, before I woke up stuck here, along with everyone else.
I knew mirrors were forbidden; the government couldn’t let the truth seep out of this “perfect city” they had so evilly curated. Now I know why. The secrets are
enveloped in our very own streets, and yet we still walk along them oblivious.
But I knew.

I knew that they would take us, brainwash us, clone us, as we would supposedly become the “superior versions of ourselves”. I couldn’t stay here a minute longer.
“Annie, we need to get out of here!” I dragged her to the poster on the wall about the new super-speed trains.
“This is our one-way ticket back to New York!”
The city lights shone as we arrived at the ticket booth of the train station, and a woman sat behind the thin glass, looking unimpressed.
“Hi,” I squint my eyes, trying to read her name. She looked me up and down, then rolled her eyes.
“It’s Jenny.” She spat the words out coldly.
“Two tickets to New York, please.”
Her nails clacked on the keyboard. “No can do, there’s no availability.” A huge electric pink bubble of gum popped in our faces, then she shooed us away.
We rushed onto the platform. The bright screen read 9pm train to New York departing in one minute. The train slammed to a halt, the brakes squeaking, the
bright blue doors hissing open. Passengers rushed on a whirlwind of chatter and madness surrounded us. We blended in with the crowd, cautious not to get
caught. The doors slammed behind me.
“We made it, Annie-”.
But Annie wasn’t there; she wasn’t anywhere. I frantically looked out the window, only to see Annie being pulled away by two metallic policemen.
“Annie!” I yelled, but she couldn’t hear me.
I watched them drag her weak body to the cells. I tried to get off the train, but I was stuck. Trapped between hundreds of people squashed together. Guilt
punched my body. It was too late; I couldn’t save her now.
I arrived in New York; a white film blurred around me. I was normal, I was me again, I wasn’t a government experiment or part of that horrid clone city… I had
escaped!
Then, suddenly, my vision went dark.
I couldn’t think straight.
My legs felt like jelly, and my body felt weak.
My eyes shut and I slowly collapsed before waking up in a dark cell. I looked around, a teal, indestructible barrier blocking the only exit.
Where was I? An intense feeling of déjà vu washed over me.
I had been here before.
A loud robotic voice filtered through the intercom.
“No one escapes and gets away with it. Not even you."

Poem:-

The  Damage You Have Done

(In memory of and with empathy for the victims of the recent Los Angeles Fires)

By Ruby Antonia Rose Hand 

For the Global Empathy Conference 2025

The  fervent  fire  erupts  violently,  

Wrapping  its  ferocious,   fiery  fingers  around  the  frightened,  awestruck  crowd.

Its  bloated  belly  rumbling,

Full  of  bubbling,  boiling  heat.

The  pressure  building  until  its  contents  burst forth  like  a  firework  from  its taut,  venomous  mouth,

Scorching  the  vulnerable  land, an  unstoppable  force  of  nature.

The  piping  hot  flames  makes  blood  curdle  and  bones  protrude  from  goosebump covered  skin,

A hissing,  roaring,  rumbling,  fireball  of  terror.

Its  fiery  trail  traverses  the  land,  

Ripping  through  the  trees  so  high,   breathing  fire  to  the  sky.  

Echoes  of  ancient  tongues spill from this serpent’s mouth,

The  smoking  trail  pricks  my eyes  with  fury  as  it  creates  a  thick  film  of  tears.

Around  me  I  hear  echoing  shrieks  of  horror  and  the  aftertaste  of  lingering  ash  stains my  lips,

The  petrifying screams of its inferno sings  a deafening  tune.

As  the  foul  flickering  flames  whisper  their insidious  mantra,  

‘I  have  returned  for  you’.  

Captured: A Snapshot from the Stolen Generation

by Ruby Antonia Rose Hand 

written for the Global Empathy Conference 2024

My hands quivered as I was seized by the icy cold fingers of my captor. My reflection caught on the lightly rusted silver car. As I gained momentum, I captured a glimpse of a dead tree through the moving landscape. My heart was bursting out of my chest, I felt like I couldn’t breathe, suffocating in my own scrambled thoughts The red desert is no more. Red dust turns to bright lights and tall buildings.  I am utterly overwhelmed by the unfamiliarity.

Without warning, I am shoved into a bleak and hostile home. It doesn’t have that same comforting feeling. I can still feel my mother’s tears on my back as they wrenched me from her grasp. I can never forget the terrified look on her face, an unimaginable scene playing out before her. I can never forget my home,the scent of rain on the gum leaves and the sound of the black cockatoos squawking theirearly morning chorus.  These memories comfort me as I think of them. I am so puzzled as to why they would do such a thing to me.Tomorrow I am hoping to be freed forever from this claustrophobic cell of emotions. Although my thoughts are racing rapidly, I have been good for most of my life. What reasons do they have to take away my culture, my language, my family and my history? I am truly perplexed.

They fear my indigenous roots, my unique voice. They fear me telling my own story; they want to change everything about me and make me one of them.