Theodora Ahilas, Winner of the 2012 NSW Justice Medal was the guest speaker at the Australian Lawyers Phil-Hellenic Association (ALPHA) 2013 Opening of Law Term Dinner. After she stood up and made the speech, she received a standing ovation for her honesty, generosity and for a life that so many there could relate to. In Australia, she is recognised as one of our most respected legal minds, but there she reminded everyone that she is also someone’s daughter; and a mother first.
Here is part of the speech:
I was given three separate briefs about my talk tonight. I was asked to talk about being a woman in the law and the glass ceiling, being a woman of non-English speaking background, the benefits it bestows and the challenges it brings and finally, being the recipient of the Justice Medal in 2012 for my work in dust disease litigation. I was told to be funny and self-effacing.
Really, I thought, hasn’t it all been said before? For fear of not doing it justice, let me combine all of the above and humour you before dessert. My story is so similar to most in the room, that it is extraordinary in its ordinariness. I am the eldest daughter of post-war migrants. My parents migrated solely for economic reasons and only because of it. They were both born on the island of Lesvos in the 1930s. My paternal family were refugees from Asia-Minor. My parents, like the countless tales I have heard, came to Australia via the assisted passage with all their worldly possessions in one suitcase to make a better life for themselves. Dad arrived in 1961, luckily for him to meet his brother in Wollongong by-passing a stay at Bonegilla. My mother joined him in 1963. They were engaged before Dad left and married two days after her arrival.
My mother often recites, with teary eyes, the last words her Father spoke to her – “If he does not marry you straight away, you get back on the boat and come home to me.” They were the last words he said to her, dying some months after her departure. She was an only child. She was in her early twenties. I am horrified to think that I would part so easily with my 15 year old daughter when she reaches that age. My daughter is currently considering international exchange and I am petrified. From these beginnings my parents went on to have two girls, myself and a younger sister and cement their roots, family and friendship groups in Dulwich Hill in the inner west of Sydney where they built their lives. To this day, some 50 years later, they still meet up with this same group of friends for a drink on Friday night.
Initially, dad took on ill-skilled factory work until he secured a job with the Sydney Waterfront in 1968. He remained in this job having obtained his Grade 5 Forklift Ticket until he took early retirement in 1997. I remember him vividly studying for exams in order to obtain his forklift ticket, with me the teacher and him the student. I recall it being this way in my family from when I was the age of 10. Most of you will have the same story, all of us as the child interpreter with the lawyer, the doctor, the accountant and of course the local chemist who was next to God.
In his retirement, he is enjoying his four grand-children, his passion for fishing and travel with my mother. He is a lone wolf and enjoys his solitude; he loves to read and has always had a passion for left-wing politics. In his reflective moments, he talks about being the “epitome of the migrant dream”, that Australia is the lucky country and when his time came to migrate, he felt truly privileged. He refers to Australia as the land of milk and honey, the self-made man with two university educated children. Never really experiencing a sense of displacement, his story is a good one. From him, and his refugee roots, I have learnt of integrity, hard work and tenacity. He has bestowed upon me a healthy confidence that anything can be achieved with hard work. That you do not commence something unless you intend to finish it and that a dose of humility stands you in good stead. That ill education doesn’t equate a lack of intelligence.
From my mother, I have learnt generosity of spirit, that an open home equates to an open heart and that no problem however big or small could not be overcome by a good Greek coffee. She often told me with ‘tongue in cheek’ that if I did not learn how to make a good ‘kaimaki’ on a café I would never get a Greek husband, well I must have failed there, because I married a man of Lebanese descent. Ironically, he has become the son they never had. She taught me that food unites us and our table is meant to be shared. She has imparted these beliefs on my daughter and in teaching her how to make a spanakopita with homemade pastry, she has also taught her about heritage and the Greek language. She has encouraged my son to be a Hellenophile and to speak the language, even if some of his sentences are broken and his grammar is incorrect.
From both my parents I learnt the value of education; to them it is the hammer that smashes all boundaries and that there is no sounder investment than that of your child’s education. To this day, some thirty years after I completed my Higher School Certificate they are interested in the university entrance scores and ATAR results. They are now re-living this with their teenage grandchildren, now attending grandparent’s days at their respective schools and being involved in cooking bees during the relevant school fetes. Whilst their friends and family talked about not wasting too much time on their daughter’s education, because after all they will get married and their husband will look after them, my parents invested in our schooling and travelled the journey with us. To them, there was no glass ceiling. In some respects it was far easier for them, they were raising two girls, no son, sexism and double standards did not enter their equation.
My mother who spoke little English volunteered in the school canteen, my father never failed to collect me from night lectures. For them, unconditional support came easily and continues. Today, it translates in the occasional home cooked meal and pick up of stranded grandchildren. I grew up in Dulwich Hill, am the product of public school education and my parents still live in the house they bought in 1965. My closest friend remains the girl I met in primary school, who lived a block away. We continue to share the same vision. My story is a simple one. I am female, I am of Greek heritage and I am a partner at a law firm. I am a daughter, a sister, a wife and a mother. These things define me; some values are enshrined from birth, some early childhood and some I have picked up along the way.
I am asked often asked how I manage it and how I cope, how do I juggle work, family, partnership… the answer is simple, I have support, I am not ashamed to ask for it and I am not embarrassed to honour it. I have strong family ties and strong family values. Nothing matters more than the way you feel within your own skin and the family you come home to at the end of the day. Yesterday, I started the morning at 4.30am because I drove my daughter to rowing practice. Tomorrow, I will start the morning at 6am to take my son to his last basketball game for the season. These things matter and I want to be part of their lives’ journey. On them I want to bestow heritage, tradition, family and a healthy confidence in self. The same lessons bestowed by my parents on me.
Today, I head the Asbestos Litigation/Toxic Tort department at Maurice Blackburn. Whilst I am not Erin Brockovich and not blonde, some days are just like the ones depicted in her movie. We act for people who have asbestos or dust disease through employment, environmental or by-sander exposure. In most instances, such exposure is fatal. Today, I started the morning at the Coronary Care Unit at Royal North Shore Hospital taking instruction from a man who probably has days to live. In my everyday work I take instructions in bus shelters, remote country locations and caravan parks. Cases are run quickly and matters are expedited. I spend a lot of my time either in court or out of the office preparing for trial. The deadlines are crushing yet exhilarating, I am honoured to do the work I do. At the end of the day, the gratitude from family members left to grieve the loss of a loved one who did something about it, so that there death was not in vain offers tremendous personal reward work. I am truly blessed. This is magnified when dealing with people from non-English speaking backgrounds whether they are of Greek descent or other origin. On the 31st October last year I was awarded the NSW Justice Medal for my work. The medal was awarded in recognition of outstanding achievement in improving access to justice in NSW, particularly to socially and economically disadvantaged people. For me, it was the icing on the cake, indeed, an honour to receive this award, but really how lucky am I to be rewarded and acknowledged for a job I love.
Which brings me to my final message; I want to talk tonight about hope, about the study of law and the pursuit of a career that can offer a life time of professional fulfilment. Make no mistake, a law degree and a career in law, brings with it a sense of privilege and power. It is the way we all use this degree that we can make a difference. Every one of us in this room is privileged; we have bestowed upon us a sense of entitlement either through family sacrifice, our own hard work or good luck. We have far more than our parents ever dreamt possible. In preparing for tonight, I Iooked at the mission statement for ALPHA. My thoughts were – how strong and powerful the words. To share heritage; to share culture; to share and benefit from learning and experience; and to support, to give back, develop and encourage.
In our fast and ever changing world where happiness is derived from affluence and ambition, let us not forget what matters. Heritage matters. Language matters. Family matters. Let us drill down to the simple things. Let us not confuse simplicity for ignorance. Let us not abandon humility for arrogance. Finally let us stop taking ourselves so seriously and tripping over our own self- importance. We are here to help and serve, let us honour that with the grace it deserves.
* Theodora Ahilas, principal in asbestos law at Maurice Blackburn was the winner of the NSW Justice Medal, an annual award from Law and Justice Foundation of NSW. Ms Ahilas won the accolade for her outstanding contribution to achieving justice for people with asbestos-related diseases and their families. It was presented by The Hon. Paul Stein QC AM, Chair of the Foundation at a ceremony at NSW Parliament last night at a dinner attended by 400 people. Ms Ahilas is Principal of Asbestos and Dust Diseases in NSW has acted for hundreds of asbestos victims and their families in that state and the ACT over the past 21 years. In addition to law, Ms Ahilas holds degrees in social work and arts.