Why should I care about ANZAC Day

Photo c/o eventfinda.co.nz

I am a Kiwi and a migrant.  Why should I care about ANZAC Day?  It wasn't my war, right?  I wasn't even here in Aotearoa New Zealand in 1915.  I don't even know those people who volunteered and fought during Word War One. There are many more reasons why I shouldn't care: I don't have a deep enough connection with this country, I have more memories about my birthplace than this present one, the heroes of my youth were brown in colour, they fought for a reason contrary to my beliefs, and my being a pacifist is another one.

What do I know about those years?  Well, not that much really but what I know comes from the people who remembered, who have had loved ones fight in the Great War.  These people that I knew, where the ones I took care of in the rest-home where I was working.  They were old and weary but had awesome stories to share with me. And share they really did, from what they've heard from their grandparents, to what they've experienced in World War Two and the other wars that Kiwis and New Zealand got involved in.

And in their sharing, I began to feel a sense of awe and belonging, to be part of the great tradition of volunteerism, to have a purpose in what I'm doing, to know the real meaning of being a Kiwi.  I thank these unnamed and learned friends of mine, who in their twilight years, shared with me, the real and true meaning of ANZAC Day.  We may have lost that first campaign in Gallipoli, but in losing, we as a nation became stronger.

Thank you dear friends for making me realize that I should care about ANZAC Day!