Yamatji kids share their reality to spur change

Intergenerational trauma, violence, substance abuse, stealing food to survive, overcrowding, parents not knowing how to parent and financial instability.

Racism.

This is not a list of concerns put forward by a carefully curated focus group.

It is a roll call of frank and brutally honest issues raised publicly by high school children in Western Australia’s Mid West during an on-country meeting at Bundiyarra near Jambinu (Geraldton) in September.

The list of issues was compiled by a group of Aboriginal school children from Jambinu and Gwoonwardu (Carnarvon) based on the broad experience canvassed by their classmates and friends.

It was a list delivered fearlessly and with a strong message for change in front of parents, elders, Aboriginal leaders and politicians, many of whom were brought to tears by the courage shown to speak up.

These were children as young as 13 bravely calling on parents to learn how to have a healthy relationship, calling on everyone to tackle substance abuse and violence at home, pushing to reconnect with elders to learn culture, and urging the state government to fund more Aboriginal engagement officers in schools.

Trevor Farrell, 14, is Yeud and Ballardong from his mum’s side and Wilunyu and Wadjarri from his father’s.

He spoke of being at peace knowing there were some parts of his culture too long lost to be passed down to him, of embracing what was left, and of learning it was okay for an ancient culture to adapt to modern times.

“I understand my culture is the same but different in many ways to how it used to be and that is ok,” Trevor said.

“I look at the things I do have, like you all, the people sitting here to listen to us, the youth, the future leaders of not only our people but the whole of Australia.

“My voice is powerful and by speaking up I am being a voice for generations.”

Trevor’s message of adapting was showcased on the day in dance: a coming together for the first time of teenage boys and girls to present a modern piece laced with traditional movement.

Geraldton-based Aboriginal engagement officer Kim Ryder teaches the girls’ dance troupe.

“When I first started at Geraldton Senior High I asked if I could take over that role of teaching the girls some type of dance so that they have confidence and be proud of who they are,” Ms Ryder said.

“I’m just proud that you know, they can represent and be proud of their culture, and you know, hope they take that into the future and be always proud of who they are and what they can accomplish.”

The cultural pride Ms Ryder speaks of is sweeping its way through WA’s schools in many forms.

Prior to the dance, Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal primary school students sung fluently in Wajarri wangga (words) a rendition of I am Australian.

One forward, two backwards

The progress being made in classrooms such as those in Jambinu is, however, sharply juxtaposed by the real-world problems outside of school hours.

The issues raised by Trevor and his mates are not new to public discourse: they have been well-known by governments, Aboriginal leaders and the public for decades.

Yet for many in this space, progress has long felt a case of one step forward, two steps backwards.

It is why Australia has for the past year been engaged in the latest big debate about how to address these issues holding first nations people back from truly participating in society and feeling equal.

This time it is via an Aboriginal Voice to parliament enshrined in the constitution.

Australians will head to the polls on October 14 to vote on whether they want to recognise Indigenous Australians in the constitution by way of an enshrined Voice to parliament.

Should it get up, the details of how the Voice will work, who will sit on it and how it will be funded will be decided by legislation.

The Voice would not be able to be axed except via another referendum, but governments of the day would have the power to nip-and-tuck almost every aspect of its operation should issues arise.

If the 'No' case wins, federal opposition leader Peter Dutton has already suggested putting forward a new referendum solely on recognition.

Prominent 'Yes' campaigner Thomas Mayo was in Jambinu for the meeting, where he busied himself talking to attendees and compiling social media content for the campaign.

Mr Mayo said the message from the children was exactly the kind of representation the Voice wanted to champion.

“They give us so much hope and this referendum is really about building a platform for them, one that can’t be taken away by a whim of a government” he said.

“A platform for them to step up, to be leaders for their communities, to use everything that they have learnt and to take the voice from the communities they come from to the decision makers in Canberra, to guide them to make better decisions for Indigenous communities.”

Riverbeds replace boardrooms

On-country meetings like these have acted as quasi-voices for Indigenous people in WA for some time now.

Yamatji Marlpa Aboriginal Corporation’s annual Yule River meeting in the Pilbara has been a pivotal gathering ground where for nearly a decade Indigenous people have talked directly to high-profile politicians about heritage, remote community closures, extinction of language, housing and education.

Not around a boardroom table but surrounded by gum trees, the smell of kangaroo tail on a fire and the sifting of river sand underfoot.

And while leaders – people some have derided as ‘elites’ in the debate around the Voice – are present, the bulk of the questions fired at ministers over the years have come from community people.

Messages from these unofficial voices have influenced parliament – most notably in the push for a complete overhaul of the Aboriginal Heritage Act 1972 – but they only happen once a year.

Without consistent formal dialogue many who attend these meetings feel other stakeholders with deeper pockets and embedded influence ultimately have more power to win the hearts and minds of politicians.

That was the mood at YMAC’s Bundiyarra meeting, the second annual meeting seeking to replicate the success of Yule River for traditional owners of Yamatji ngurra (country).

It was a mood reiterated by Wajarri Yamaji man Anthony Dann when canvassing disappointment about the sorry state of heritage laws in WA after the bungled rollout and scrapping of the Aboriginal Cultural Heritage Act.

“They listen to the farmers, they listen to the miners who, you know, march on parliament in their thousands and they get the decision that they want,” Mr Dann said.

“Whereas the Indigenous people we are small in number with a minority, and they think they can just push through what they want, when they want.”

Hope for the Voice

Mr Dann said he was hopeful a national Voice baked into the constitution would level the playing field.

“It is important you get that grassroots message because not everyone who lives in the city and are decision makers on behalf of our people have knowledge of what’s actually important out on our country,” he said.

“To listen to a handful of people, you know, on the [Aboriginal Cultural Materials Committee], or wherever it may be, is not giving us the service that we need.

“My generation, we have come from not being recognised as Australians prior to the 1967 referendum and, you know, moving into these younger generations, I mean, their views are quite strong about what they would like to see happen.”

Mr Dann’s sentiment was shared by YMAC chief executive Simon Hawkins, who has watched first hand the difference input from these meetings can have, and what happens when it is ignored.

“The government agencies are appreciative that there’s a grassroots movement, particularly the regional offices in these country areas like to have that engagement and it’s been created for that reason,” Mr Hawkins said of the on-country meetings.

“It is easy for governments to simply respond in a political sense and not actually demonstrate transparency around why it is making a decision.

“People on country whose heritage this is, they need a voice to have their concerns addressed.

“[The Voice] is simply advice to government but at least it is presented, and government needs to address why they are or are not supporting it in an accountable way.”

But for all the positive sentiment towards the Voice in forums such as Bundiyarra, supporters are mindful change is no sure thing.

For months polls have consistently showed support falling and, with the referendum needing a double majority (a majority of voters in a majority of states) to get up, both sides of the debate are in overdrive seeking to ram their messages home.

The 'Yes' campaign was buoyed in September by its first major rally, which drew upwards of 200,000 people across the country to show their support.

Corporate Australia, sporting organisations, education institutions and non-profit organisations are overwhelmingly behind the 'Yes' camp and have funnelled millions of dollars into the campaign.

But while rallies in every capital city drew substantially larger crowds than what has been drawn to the 'No' events, those public shows of support had not converted into improved polling at time of print.

The Voice enjoyed parliamentary unity in WA for a while, but Liberal leader Libby Mettam cited the Aboriginal Cultural Heritage Act as the reason she changed her mind in August. The Nationals WA followed suit at its state conference, leaving the majority Labor government as the only major supporter.

The ACHA remains a constant talking point among the 'No' camp in farming communities despite being repealed, and broad-brush issues of trust in federal Labor and lack of detail have been central to statewide anti-Voice rhetoric.

Regional WA has been highlighted as an area of concern, with one pro-voice campaigner claiming the divisive nature of debate was making it hard for those on opposite sides of the fence to sit next to each other in the pub.

Mr Mayo and fellow campaigners have held forums in remote regions in recent weeks to settle some confusion.

“Remote and regional communities struggle to be heard thousands of kilometres away where it is quite disconnected from the realities on the ground,” Mr Mayo said.

“Regional and remote Australians in small communities can understand that, but Indigenous people … with all of the systemic challenges that we face, it’s that much harder for us.

“So, this is about giving a hand up to Indigenous people to say, well, actually, politicians, if you’re going to make decisions about Indigenous people, then you should listen.”

Those talks have not always had the intended outcome, with one in Bunbury leading to a nationwide discussion after leading 'Yes' campaigner Marcia Langton described arguments from the 'No' camp as rooted in “base racism” or “sheer stupidity”.

Ms Langton’s comments were latched on to by the other side to paint a case she was calling 'No' voters racist, a point she claimed was misquoting her.

However you spin it, the debate is bitter: accusations of racism, misquoting, obfuscation, divisiveness and misleading commentary are being canvassed across media almost every day from both sides.

It is emblematic of the discourse Aboriginal affairs in Australia has attracted for generations.

For the 'Yes' camp, it is building a narrative the voice will unify, reduce financial waste on misguided Indigenous programs, and will help the nation make progress on closing the gap targets.

The big argument from the 'No' campaign has been the lack of detail, something Indigenous Affairs Minister Linda Burney sought to nullify on her latest trip to Perth with a tangible anecdote on education.

“I will go to the Voice and say, ‘this school attendance program isn’t working’,” Ms Burney told a Committee for Economic Development of Australia forum.

“Over $270 million has been spent since 2014 on the Remote School Attendance Strategy.

“Across the 84 schools in the program, attendance has actually gone backwards.

“It’s what happens when governments make policies for Indigenous communities, not with communities.”

Housing, education and health will be the core focus of the voice, according to Ms Burney.

That won’t come as a surprise to those attending on-country meetings, where those topics, plus language and heritage, have been front and centre every year. And while much of the conversation has been around the national Voice’s potential influence on closing the gap targets, stakeholders are just as hopeful to hear local voices lead to more stories like Trevor’s.

“Because of Yamatji on-country last year I was finally able to build the courage to confront racism at my school,” Trevor told the crowd.

“I did this by reading last year’s speech at a school assembly in front of all the people who once put me down.

“I used to be afraid to speak up, now I feel culturally stronger, more culturally safe, more equipped to deal with racism and I have become a stronger leader.”