There are small moments of grace all around us

There are small moments of grace all around us if we stop and take note. They’re a wonder and a balm.

“Asserting our dignity in small ways.” It’s a graceful line in the new film In the Heights, a celebration of a New York Latino community. It nods to powerlessness and rising above it in ways that teach us all – and possibly change us. It reminds me of a recent media moment involving one of the most famous families in Australia. Not the Hemsworths or the Rineharts, the Zampattis or the Stefanovics, but a family that represents another side entirely of this complex nation.

The “Biloela family”, the Murugappans. We all know them, and how you feel about them says a lot about you. The striking media moment was at the end of a recent ABC-TV 7.30 report. Journalist Peter McCutcheon had visited the island of the festive name that’s now notorious in our nation’s history. It was just before Tharnicaa, now four, was airlifted to Perth suffering from sepsis. The family was walking by their compound, surrounded by a phalanx of burly bodyguards. Because, well, detention.

McCutcheon was not allowed close but he called out for a comment. The mother, Priya, responded: “Thank you all for your love and supporting – your help is helping me and my family stay strong.” And that, to me, felt like an assertion of dignity in small ways, involving gratitude and grace rather than attack or complaint. There’s an arresting power to dignity, it has the capacity to move, veer, soften. Priya had the attention of the national broadcaster trained upon her; she could have said anything in that moment yet chose to react with a connecting grace. Her strength of character shone.

The generosity was moving. As these little glimpses of grace so often are. It feels like we, as a nation, need some soldering demonstrations of dignity more than ever now, after such a big, difficult, anxious 18 months. Need more moments when we demonstrate that we’re better than what humanity expects from this fragile, grasping, restless species known as human. Asserting our dignity in small ways feels quiet, non performative, in this noisy world; but the ripples can be wide.

There are small moments of grace all around us if we stop and take note. They’re a wonder and a balm. Recently an elderly Indian woman was hauling her personal shopping trolley up some steps at our local shopping centre, with great difficulty. Without missing a beat a young tradie in his stubbies and Blunnies bounded down to her and offered a hand. Not sure whose smile was wider, hers or his, but the point of small demonstrations of dignity like this is that they aid the bestower as much as the receiver.

This is the Australia I love. The Australia that often, recently, seems to have lost its way, especially with the bitterness surrounding the Bilolea family. How energising it would be, for the nation, to have them folded back into a community they love; a moment of releasing grace.

Another demonstration of recent grace was the response to Danish soccer star, Christian Eriksen, when he suffered a cardiac arrest on the pitch. Danish captain Simon Kjaer instructed his teammates to form a protective ring around him to give him some dignity. A chant thundered in the stadium between fervent national rivals; Finland supporters sung out “Christian”, Danish fans responded with “Eriksen”. Then Finnish fans threw their national flags onto the pitch to provide a privacy screen for Eriksen as he was wheeled from the pitch.

We humans can be so beautiful. In small, spontaneous moments, when we’re our better selves, our best selves. The examples above are teaching moments. Politics in this country so often feels a world away from the beauty in their generosity. Each one of us has dignity in us – it’s whether we choose to activate it or not. It shines. For the bestower as well as the receiver, and for those who observe it as well.