2020-03-27
We often talk about decolonisation and its absolute importance in healing this country and our First Nations people. But what does it really mean, and what are some practical ways we as individuals can work to dismantle the oppressive systems of colonisation?
By Rebecca Galdies
Most of the meetings I attend these days are started with either an Acknowledgement of Country (most often read or spoken by a non-First Nations person) or, if it is a big event, there might be a Welcome to Country. To be honest, I am now so used to hearing or even being the person doing the Acknowledgement of Country – almost by rote – I can barely remember a time when these things didn’t happen.
But recently I started a new job and was required to attend cultural awareness training for the first time in years. Though there were things taught that day that I had heard or read about before and much that I learnt, what struck me the most was that so little has changed or improved in the lives of First Nations people in Australia.
The reality of racism
My colleague and the person who ran the cultural awareness training, Adam Frogley, authored two reports on behalf of the organisation that we work for, called I’m not a racist, but… and I’m still not a racist, but.
I had a fairly thorough read of these reports after having taken Adam’s training and found them to be somewhat harrowing. The statistics themselves were terrible: nearly 86 percent of the people surveyed said racism and discrimination in Australian society remains high.
But the comments listed in the attachments are where my heart began to truly sink. The first question, a fairly simple one: “If you or members of your family have experienced overt or implied racial discrimination, please provide an example of your individual or family experiences below”:
“Trying to rent a property. Trying to catch a taxi. Being targeted by the police.”
“When shopping or getting served. I am an older Aboriginal woman and they insist on checking me when white fellas are openly and brazenly shoplifting in the same shop.”
“Being told I'm not dark enough to be Aboriginal.”
These are just a few of the examples, but to me they highlight the extent to which the experience of racism is an everyday experience for so many people, precisely because these should be unexceptional experiences. There are laws against discrimination in this country, but in practice it seems they only apply to certain people.
A cultural inferno
Since my last article, I have workshopped the question of the practical ways that we as individuals can work to dismantle the oppressive systems of colonisation through countless conversations. I’ve been privileged enough to have had a number of incredibly brilliant people participate in group discussions on the topic and am putting together some ideas. I will get to those ideas, but in the meantime, there is another matter I think we need to talk about.
Australians have been watching in horror since late last year while the country burns. Some of us have been closer to this horror than others, though for the first time (post-colonisation) people in many of our major cities have felt the palpable reality of climate change in their lungs, eyes and throats. Indeed, without having to turn on the TV, read a paper or check the socials, we have been able to tell upon waking that somewhere nearby the land is burning.
I will not go over the devastating loss of property, human life or the lives of so many living creatures – we have all heard enough about them. But very few reports have mentioned the loss of cultural heritage sites, though one or two sites appear to have been revealed as a result of the fires including ancient aquatic systems dating back over 6000 years.
This land is ancient, and the ongoing connection to country of First Nations people is perhaps one of the hardest things for those of us that are of migrant heritage to truly fathom. The ancient aquatic systems I mentioned date back to 6000 years, which is about 200-250 generations. Even the most dedicated person would struggle to find direct, definable connections going back 10 generations in my family history. We occasionally talk about it around the table when we get together for Christmas or someone’s birthday, but the truth is our family history is very difficult to trace. A lot of the older generation are now gone and can no longer pass on the stories and some records are hard to find or simply weren’t kept.
The fires that have ravaged this ancient land have elicited some interesting responses from politicians and media alike. Sad Scotty from Marketing was mostly absent, and generally inappropriate, but that’s nothing new. We’re used to it.
Challenging claims
But for me, perhaps most interesting was the timing of the attacks on one of Australia’s most celebrated authors, Bruce Pascoe. Bruce was himself in fact fighting fires, defending his property (as well as those of his neighbours) whilst simultaneously fighting a culture war. It is not the first time the legitimacy of Pascoe’s indigeneity has been questioned, but this time, the Australian Federal Police had been asked to investigate the claim made by Josie Cashman, who happens to be great mates with Andrew Bolt, which should give you an idea of where on the political spectrum she feels most comfortable. Since then, Ms Cashman has been dismissed from her position on the Indigenous Advisory Body.
Notwithstanding the process put in place to attempt to undermine the legitimacy of Pascoe’s claim to Aboriginality and the audacity of the Minister of Immigration and Border Protection in referring the matter to the AFP (on whose authority are the AFP able to legitimise anybody’s indigeneity?), at least four senior members of the Yuin nation have publicly confirmed his membership of that nation. In a move typical of this government, the people most likely to be able to provide the expertise on any given matter were not consulted.
These sorts of public attacks on outspoken First Nations people are sadly common not only in Australia, but across the globe. They are indicative of the assumption of whiteness (or coloniser) as the norm, indeed the supreme. Inherent in the history that most of us (at least in my generation) were taught is the idea that colonisation was good for the people of this land. That somehow it brought a sophistication and legitimacy to this otherwise ‘unoccupied’ place.
As mentioned in my previous article in this series, there does not seem to be a ‘safe place’ to be Aboriginal in this country. When attempting such basic things as renting a house or trying to get a taxi, one is likely to be discriminated against simply for being Aboriginal. Therefore, perhaps we should not be surprised by the attacks on Bruce Pascoe given he has challenged (and quite effectively) the claim on which this place was colonised: the claim of terra nullius.
Post-colonial nationalistic fervour has always been present in this country to some degree, but it rose to new heights during the Howard era. Since then, governments have gone to great lengths to be seen celebrating ANZACs (though there is rarely a mention of the First Nations soldiers that fought side by side with white Australians in both world wars).
However, aside from Kevin Rudd’s apology, there has been very little in the way of public acknowledgement of the damage done to the First Nations people of this land by colonisation. And though many attempts to address the infamous gap, little actual progress has been made. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people currently account for 28 percent of the prison population in Australia but only 3.3 percent (2016 est.) of the overall population, making them about fifteen times more likely to end up being imprisoned than white Australians.
What can you do to dismantle colonialism?
It is tempting to spend more time in discussion, but I promised some practical ways in which we could work together to begin the process of decolonisation that centres First Nations values. This is by no means a comprehensive list, nor is it designed to be a checklist.
- Self awareness is the foundational first step: a willingness to decolonise the mind, to open oneself up to a possibly unfamiliar way of thinking, and that the history you were taught throughout your childhood was the narrative of the colonist and invader.
- Remember and acknowledge your privilege. This is not to deny any hardship in your own life, rather to acknowledge the inherent privilege that comes with being part of the coloniser rather than colonised group.
- Think about the following questions:
- Whose country do you live on?
- Is there an opportunity for you to learn some of the language of the local mob?
- Is there a way to promote more family-friendly and culturally appropriate policies in your workplace or community group?
- Is there an opportunity to argue for less colonised clauses in the enterprise agreement that you work under, such as no caps or limits on cultural leave?
- Can you afford to and are you willing to pay the rent? This means actually paying money, regularly, and not asking for anything in return.
These questions can be confronting in and of themselves. They can raise ire, and trigger emotional responses, especially if we have had a difficult start in life or lived through great trauma. So the next important step is to think about our reactions to these questions and to consider how they are affected by unconscious bias.*
The key thing here is not to let your fear of failure, or of making a mistake, prevent you from trying. Remember that discomfort is important and is what will help us grow and learn to become better allies. If we do not take on the lion’s share of the emotional labour involved in the process of decolonisation, it will be too heavy a burden for future generations.
Writing this second article took a lot longer than I had anticipated. I therefore make no promises about when my next one will come out. Given that I have promised to look specifically at how unions can and should be focusing on the work of decolonisation and that I work in the union movement, hopefully I can get it done a little bit more quickly. Finally, I would like to thank Adam Frogley for helping me find my way through this process.
*Unconscious bias is another can of worms altogether which has been well researched in the fields of gender studies and race relations, but essentially it can be defined as learned stereotypes that are so deeply ingrained that we are barely aware that they exist, and they have the capacity to impact our behaviour, both positively and negatively, toward others.
This is part two of a series of articles. Read part one here. Article three will be Becc’s hot take on the role of the union movement in the work that needs to be done around decolonisation, and in the final piece Becc will attempt to draw everything she has talked about into what she thinks a Green New Deal could look like.
Rebecca Galdies is a former co-convenor of the Australian Greens.
Hero image: Julian Meehan/Flickr published under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic license.