WHEN I first moved to Tasmania, a new friend was hesitant to tell me she was from George Town.
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She asked me not to judge her.
On a trip down the East Tamar a couple of months later, I couldn't understand what she was on about. It was beautiful.
A couple of years later I've come to know Tasmania a little better, and have seen how people are defined by where they live.
I've heard praise for the ticketed events that "keep the bogans out", and the now-familiar stories about Ravenswood, Rocherlea and the people who live there.
Online commenters are enthusiastic in their judgments of residents' work ethic, propensity for crime, the way they take care of their children, and how they look after their neighbourhood.
Such statements disregard the many residents who work hard, take pride in their homes and families, are involved in community groups, and are sick of being tainted by bad stereotypes.
Nonetheless, in Australia we like to think social classes are a thing of the past.
Our egalitarian, "fair go" attitude is considered part of our national identity.
It's a myth.
Classism is evident every day, not only in the slurs and jokes against lower socio-economic towns and communities, but in our fixation with so-called bogans.
In an article on website The Conversation, academic Christopher Scanlon said the word class had been replaced with less-aggressive terms like bogan, to describe someone who didn't conform to middle class values.
The meaning is still the same.
Professor Scanlon said many people nonetheless rejected the idea of class, seeing it as an excuse for people who made the wrong decisions in life, with everything simply a matter of individual choice.
While it's true we all have choices as to how we live, some people are faced with more limited options than others.
According the Tasmanian Council of Social Service, a person's suburb, access to transport, employment, social support and financial stability are proven to have as great an impact on their health and wellbeing as their behaviour.
This is clear in Northern Tasmania, where planning has put people who are economically and socially disadvantaged away from the centre of town.
The Heart Foundation chief executive Graeme Lynch said suburbs like Ravenswood and Rocherlea were isolated from quality services, healthy food options, employment opportunities, transport options, and well- designed community spaces.
Mr Lynch said these sorts of limitations were proven to have a strong influence on mental and physical health, and social connectedness.
The new state government has a clear opportunity to address such inequality and promote health and wellbeing in new infrastructure, as it works through a new statewide planning structure and looks to introduce state policies.
However, that's not enough.
Director of Public Health Roscoe Taylor warned last year that the gap between rich and poor was widening, and it would become a key issue in years to come.
What hope is there of bridging that gap if so many in our community deny their own privilege, and the limited opportunities afforded to others?
Our lives are shaped by our social class, and we don't all have the same luxury of choice.
But how we treat other people is entirely up to us.