The Activist

"My innermost dream is to connect with as many people as possible, in as many possible ways; to find the best medium to connect with them and share my dreams, my fears, my thoughts…perhaps write a book or come up with a great Ted talk...I want to inspire others to overcome challenges"

Frank is one of those people whose reputation precedes them. I have heard so many amazing things about him, long before we first met.

As it happens in a small city where everyone knows everyone, our paths have finally crossed at a Christmas party for free-lance professionals organised by Ginger Gorman.

It was only natural to feel like he was an old friend. He has a warm personality and lights up the room with his smile. He masters the best play lists and gets everyone dancing in no time. His work as a DJ is well known and it won him many accolades and awards. But not everyone knows the many dimensions of his personality. He is also a polyglot, a former journalist, a broadcaster, aspiring writer and an outspoken political activist.

The day we met for his interview started with a couple of hiccups. I was locked out of my studio due to unforeseen circumstances; then a humble pen decided to prevent me from jotting down my notes while interviewing Frank. The lovely waitress at the café where we ended up doing out interview gave me a new one. Which also ran out of ink, would you believe it?  (Lesson learned – always carry lots of spare pens, folks). Just when I was wondering if anything else could go wrong, everything turned perfect again. We found the right location for his portrait and life was great again.

 - “As a little boy, I cannot recall wanting to be anything in particular. But I do remember the moment when that changed. I met a poet really early in my life. I was 7 years old when I first met little Veronica, who decided that I was going to be her boyfriend. She asked me to move to her table at primary school and to become her boyfriend. She was incredibly smart. Meeting her grandmother, Conchita Osio, was a magic moment in my life. Conchita was a poet and she was mesmerised by our innocent mini love-affair. She showed us the power of the words. We used to go to the beach with her, walk by the sea and make up stories.

This is the earliest recollection I have of playing with words and of someone who did wonderful things with them. Conchita asked us if we wanted to write a book. We of course were keen but it never really materialised. As it’s often the case in life, we grew apart and we stopped seeing each other by the time we reached high-school but the love for the language and words stayed with me for life and for this reason, I feel that Conchita’s contribution to my life is priceless. These were my favourite stories as a child; any of Conchita’s stories because they were based on real people. She could craft a story within minutes.

- I had a very traumatic last year in high school. The year before, I lost my elder sister to meningitis and then the last year of high school I lost my father to a stroke. Back then, I didn’t realise how traumatic it was what happened to my mother and us. My sister was just 21, my father was only 42 – they were so young! I think these two events defined me as a person and the way I lived my life. Others think they have their entire life ahead of them but I didn’t. I had a fatalistic life lookout. I realised I could die at any time and that life can be taken away from you so I sort of lived on the fast lane.

- I explored so much, I studied journalism and trained as an actor, travelled the world as cabin crew, became a children entertainer, worked in various areas of cultural diplomacy, produced events, toured artists, became a broadcaster and a DJ, lately a consultant for government but, faced by History, got busy as an activist against the Venezuelan regime; therefore in a way, I could say I had done pretty much everything I dreamed of, in the end.

I often wonder how my life would have been if I hadn’t left Venezuela. To be honest, at this stage in my life, I can’t help but having this constant inner fight between the Optimist, the Pessimist and the Realist inside me. Sometimes the Pessimist and the regrets win the battle; sometimes the Optimist tells those negative thoughts to shut up. The Realist in me finds the balance telling me that life is beautiful. I am constantly balancing those inner voices. I think everyone does to a point.

- Who I am now? A migrant. I didn’t think it would define me so much but it does.  I am also a member of the Venezuelan Diaspora. I am someone living constantly between two cultures, with a longing for the things you don’t have. I am someone who understands that life is very complex and that the decisions you make will affect you forever. As part of that inner conflict, you don’t want to lose yourself in the process and I think that is why I take every opportunity to define myself. I accept the many challenges that come with joining a new society, I do everything possible to function at my best. It’s a constant challenge but also enjoyable most of the time. I want to enjoy life and I look ahead and get excited by the many possibilities offered to me. Looking back with regrets, is not a good way to live your life. Dreams can be pursued at any age and I am looking at the ways I can do that.

- My innermost dream is to connect with as many people as possible, in as many possible ways; to find the best medium to connect with them and share my dreams, my fears, my thoughts…perhaps write a book or come up with a great Ted talk...I want to inspire others to overcome challenges.

My activism is centred on freedom in Venezuela and better representation and diversity in Australia. I believe in a just world. I often dream that I could find this role where I could be a voice that makes a difference.  As a result of finding that roar, that inner voice, people would listen to important things like diversity and representation in decision making forums. Then there are other issues, like the respect for others and their culture and the exploration of the concept of assimilation and what it truly means. We need a serious discussion about what multiculturality really means to people in Australia. And is it truly valid, when you have a monoculture that is making key decisions? That is not enough, in my opinion.  Multiculturalism is a way of hearing everyone. When I was job-seeking, I didn’t get many call backs until I added “Smith” to my surname, only then I started to get called for interviews. That should not happen.

- My mother is and has always been the best motivator and continues to be the best influence in my life. She always said to me “- Frank, you’re a smart kid but with it comes great responsibilities. You have to use your abilities for the best”. This is something that always guided me. I don’t give up because I know I have to do my best.

I don’t come from a well to do family. People often get confused about me; they make the wrong assumption that I am this upper-class rich kid.  I am an example of that social mobility that existed in Venezuela through study and hard work, using the opportunities made available to us.

- As I get older, I realise that the true purpose of life is to seek happiness and fulfilment. In the next years I will be looking very actively at the answer of where happiness lies.  This is my plan for the next 5 years; finding my inner voice and be happier.

- My first role model was my mother. She continues to be my constant role model. As a little boy I had this adoration for my mother, I found her to be so complex. As a child, I was fascinated by her beauty. As a teenager, I was fascinated by her commitment to make a difference in other people’s lives. She was a social worker and did everything she could to help others. Now in her older age, I love her joie de vivre, I love that age doesn’t define her.  I definitely want to be like her when I grow up, if I ever do!

 - My biggest regret? That is a very complex question because we, humans pay more attention to the things we don’t have or that we didn’t do well; we don’t concentrate on the things that we did well. I do tend to dwell on “I should have done this”, “I shouldn’t have done that”.

 The biggest regret I have was abandoning journalism school in the middle of the degree, to move to New York city. But it was also the most exciting thing at the same time too, so the regret was cancelled by the excitement.

- My most peaceful place is at home, with my partner. There is no pressure of having a public persona, no pressure of other people’s expectations. I can be silly, spontaneous, I can be anything I want to be. He can see through me easily; there is no pretence, which is very nice because our home is our temple.

If I had to use one word to describe myself, it would be “Complex”.  I think my energy is fuelled equally by success and by failure on daily basis. It is important to learn from both and it’s important to have both in one person’s life.

What does activism mean to Frank?

- Activism to me is using the privilege of having a voice, speaking up for the others and defending justice, aiming for truth. One has to accept that their ideas might contradict other people’s convictions but still find a way to make a difference. My involvement with Venezuelan affairs now defines me in many ways as a person. It made me question things and provided me with a new perspective. I no longer divide things between left and right, but only into right and wrong. I find that working around the Venezuelan issue is so complex. There are so many misconceptions and I see my role as an activist to educate and to open an honest debate. It’s hard because in many ways we are dealing with dogmas and dogma does not allow for honest discussions.  It affects my life, as it affects the lives of many other millions of Venezuelans living abroad, because you obviously want to live your life to its full potential, function within your new society and enjoy your achievements but you also have this strong sense of responsibility that if you keep quiet nothing will change and that the lives of many people are in the balance.

Action is imperative and you have to make as much noise as possible. We need to find a way to get the message across - one has to keep talking, understanding that it’s not everyone’s reality and that people have to carry on with their life. You just want them to stop for a minute and consider that if they left Venezuela implode, the consequences are many, because the moral compass of the world is going to be out of whack.  Although it’s a local issue, I strongly believe it is a universal issue too, in many ways. If you let evil succeed, then you have no excuse to criticise or fight evil somewhere else in the world. Evil - meaning the baddies winning over the goodies.

With all of that in mind, as a Venezuelan I also think that part of my activism is also to remind us Venezuelans of the errors of the past and the reasons why our country ended up in a mess like this. It’s important to allow ourselves to dream of a new Venezuela, to understand and see the racism of the past, the lack of liberty and the poverty, the lack of respect for the democratic institutions,  it’s important that we learn from all those lessons and we build a better society in the future.

On one hand, I am fighting for things to change; but I am also aware of the fact that change is not just switching systems, or one set of rulers for another one. If we are to be completely honest about change, in building a new society, we have to look at changing the individuals; we all have to become better people. That is the moral core of the entire issue.

I am very conscious that I am a new Australian and a member of the Diaspora and I feel that I have a responsibility for the future of both Australia and Venezuela and that I have a responsibility for the world. I need to be a voice of alert for the world because when the moral compass is pointing the wrong direction, humanity suffers.

It’s a very delicate balance to have; how do I keep living, waking up in the morning and being a productive member of the society, here in Australia, knowing that there are so many calamities and that life is so difficult there. My Venezuelan brothers and sisters are going through so much. But realities co-exist and you do learn to live with both sides. It’s very tough. There is a sense of guilt, for being able to have a comfortable life while the others are struggling. Then there is also that fear that lives within me.  I am safe here, but I have family back home. I fear making myself a target and making my family a target. These are questions I have to deal on daily basis, but I made my choice a long time ago. I chose to speak up, because silence would make me an accomplice.