RETURNING to Tasmania again after a week with with the Yugul Mangi community in south east Arnhem land I was struck by how very British this island is. The neat docks and quaint fishing boats, sandstone architecture and bobbing grey heads. Gardens blooming with cottage style flowers. Order, neatness, cleanliness. In Arnhem land I would always be a stranger, alien to a people and country that have evolved together and sleep in harmony. But somehow in my heart I understand their connection to ancestry, their sustainable use of resources, their singing, storytelling and belief in spirits and creator beings much more than I believe in the white culture I have inherited. Stale and stunted, everything we have must be rational, scientific and have concrete economic reasoning.
But I can’t stay in Arnhem land, can’t pretend I will ever be Aboriginal. Only recognise in myself my own longing for connection to country and ancestry that somehow has been taken away from me and my people.
Reflecting with my friends on my return we discussed how right now we are shaping what it means to be white. We are still responsible for creating our own culture, and in this way I can actively engage here more than I ever could with the Yugul Mangi, where I would always be an observer. Or would I? When I was saying my goodbyes, teary for the tyrrany of distance that would seperate me from my new Yugul Mangi friends, traditional owner Clarry Rogers said “I will miss you. You will be part of our songs now.” I was there to document their stories, to film and then hand over the tapes so they can have a record of their songlines and old people. But in doing so, in being a recipient, I am still representing my own community and creating what my own community is by representing it in way I can feel proud of. I am not a missionary, I did not chain them and force them into missions, I did not tell them they cannot teach their own language, nor did I prohibit them to make ceremony, like the white forefathers did in their country. We whities are still evolving, and we have a responsibility to take responsibility for our own culture and for how we interact with others.
When as a young adult I first began working with Arabunna and Adnyamathanha communities in South Australia they taught me about connection to country. They shared with me and my peers despite what had been done to them by white colonialists, and what was still being done to them by mining companies and governments. My new found Uncles and Aunties gave me permission to care for this country, and to take responsibility for protecting it. That is why I stand up for it, and that is why I will keep working for country despite what might be thrown at me. We live here on a beauitful island that is being torn between people who want to exploit our resources and people who want to walk softly on the earth. Here in Tasmania we whities have learnt to care, have learnt to stand up and are learning to make our own mythology. Artists, writers, poets, activists all dreaming up a new white culture we can be prouder of than our dark colonial convict past.
SBS’ new documentary series First Australians is exploring the history of white colonialists and their interactions with Australian Aboriginals. The seven part series is now being screened on SBS on Tuesday and Sunday nights at 8.30 pm or at http://www.sbs.com.au/firstaustralians/
SBS’new documentary series First Australians is featuring the history of white colonialists and their interactions with Tasmanian Aboriginals at 8.30 pm Tuesday 14th October. Last night’s premiere episode can be seen at http://www.sbs.com.au/firstaustralians/
Heidi Douglas
Stale and stunted, everything we have must be rational, scientific and have concrete economic reasoning. But I can’t stay in Arnhem land, can’t pretend I will ever be Aboriginal. Only recognise in myself my own longing for connection to country and ancestry that somehow has been taken away from me and my people.




















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