tag:theconversation.com,2011:/au/topics/indigenous-culture-423/articles
Indigenous culture – The Conversation
2024-02-19T19:03:45Z
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/223463
2024-02-19T19:03:45Z
2024-02-19T19:03:45Z
‘It’s about making our children feel proud’: how schools can learn about local Indigenous language and culture
<p>One of the priorities of the <a href="https://www.niaa.gov.au/resource-centre/indigenous-affairs/commonwealth-closing-gap-2023-annual-report-and-2024-implementation-plan">Closing the Gap reporting</a> is that Indigenous cultures and languages are “strong, supported and flourishing”. It also calls for Indigenous students to “achieve their full learning potential”. </p>
<p>These two priorities are listed in totally different sections of the report but they are very much connected. </p>
<p>Schools can play a big role in Indigenous language revitalisation and <a href="https://bera-journals.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/rev3.3264">creating</a> a strong sense of identity and belonging for students, supporting their wellbeing and learning. </p>
<p>Our new research shows how this can be done through co-designing curriculum resources with local communities that privilege local knowledge, strengths, stories and languages.</p>
<h2>A repository of language and culture</h2>
<p>In 2020 we began to work with the Elders advisory group connected to a local high school on Wakka Wakka Country, which covers a vast area in Queensland’s Burnett region. But the communities involved in this project were Cherbourg and Murgon. </p>
<p>This was a <a href="https://theconversation.com/co-design-is-the-latest-buzzword-in-indigenous-education-policy-does-it-live-up-to-the-hype-212194">co-designed process</a> from the very beginning. This meant we spoke to Elders and the community to identify what they wanted and then worked with them throughout the process. </p>
<p>Talking to Elders, community and school staff, we learned there was a strong desire to have tangible resources about local history and culture that elevated their voices. These could be used by local childcare services and schools, as well as the broader community.</p>
<p>Indigenous authors <a href="https://www.anitaheiss.com/">Anita Heiss</a> and Uncle <a href="https://youngausperspectives.com.au/boori-monty-pryor/">Boori Monty Pryor</a> delivered a series of workshops with school students and local community members to share their experiences and inspire people to share their stories. We also had local Indigenous researchers working closely with community to support anyone who wanted to contribute a story. </p>
<p>The project culminated in a series of strengths-based stories (emphasising strengths and aspirations) being hosted on the Cherbourg Shire Council <a href="https://cherbourg.qld.gov.au/home/binung-ma-na-du/">website</a> to give the community control of the Binung Ma Na Du (ear, eye, hand and heart) project. </p>
<p>The series includes video stories, written stories, podcasts and bilingual books. For example, the 13 video stories include diverse stories of community members memories of growing up in Cherbourg, overcoming adversity and staying strong in culture. The podcasts continue the theme of storytelling through yarning and understanding the lived experiences of mob from these communities.</p>
<p>All storytellers own the intellectual property of their stories. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/co-design-is-the-latest-buzzword-in-indigenous-education-policy-does-it-live-up-to-the-hype-212194">'Co-design' is the latest buzzword in Indigenous education policy. Does it live up to the hype?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>All students benefit</h2>
<p>We also asked 28 local people (six non-Indigenous school staff and 22 Indigenous school staff and/ or community members) about what they see as the benefits for students when Indigenous knowledges and languages and embedded in school learning. </p>
<p>All participants were clear there are benefits for all students, whether they are Indigenous or non-Indigenous. </p>
<p>For Indigenous students, strengthening identity and building confidence clearly emerged as key strengths. </p>
<p>As Uncle Edward, a Wakka Wakka Elder, said:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[…] it’s about making our children feel proud – not just of themselves, but of their people, of their ancestors. And that language that they take is part of those
old people. And […] and I always say to them, ‘You take that language of the old people, you’re gonna start acting like them old people’. And I think our young people start to do that.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Our respondents noted how non-indigenous students gained greater understanding about cultural differences. Learning language and locally produced stories also helped build relationships between Indigenous and non-indigenous people. </p>
<p>As Lavell, a community member and father, shared:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[…] when I was growing up in high school I did German and it was no use to me as an adult. If they learn Wakka Wakka they learn the language of this place first and they need to learn the language of this place and we need to learn they’re language to come together and live in harmony. We all call Australia home and we need to all respect that.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Lessons from our research</h2>
<p>We also asked the group of community members and school practitioners what good co-design looks like in developing local curriculum resources. </p>
<p>They emphasised how collaboration with community needs to be there right at the start and right through to the end of a project. They also stressed that local knowledge and leadership must be incorporated into the final project (so it can’t just be researchers or policymakers making their own findings). </p>
<p>Sarah, a community member and parent shared that:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>communities and schools work better together when we acknowledge and value the knowledge holders such as Elders, parents and community.</p>
</blockquote>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/once-students-knew-their-identity-they-excelled-how-to-talk-about-excellence-in-indigenous-education-193394">'Once students knew their identity, they excelled': how to talk about excellence in Indigenous education</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>How can other schools develop similar resources?</h2>
<p>For schools who want to work with their local communities to enhance local knowledge and language in their curriculum, here are some key tips, based on our research:</p>
<ul>
<li><p>work with Indigenous staff in your school first and foremost to learn about local cultural protocols. If you don’t have any Indigenous staff, your local Elders are the first place to go</p></li>
<li><p>ensure this will be reciprocal. Be clear about what and how you are giving back to the community. For example, you might offering a space for
regular communication between the school and community (not just a one-off interaction)</p></li>
<li><p>work collaboratively with Elders and community to have visual representations of the traditional owners, local language (for example, signage and greetings) and cultures around the school. This is so these become common knowledge among all students and staff and part of the school’s culture</p></li>
<li><p>when working with Indigenous people in remote Indigenous communities, ensure you have met with the local council in the community. These local councils are elected by community and it is respectful and expected that you engage with local councils</p></li>
<li><p>use strengths-based approaches that privilege Indigenous voices in decision-making processes. This means you start by looking at what is already working well and build from that strength, rather than coming in with a deficit mindset (or looking to “fix” something) </p></li>
<li><p>don’t have fixed deadlines: collaborative work in communities take time. You need to build relationships with people first and then be prepared to work flexibly with them. The funding body gave us 12 months initially to complete the project, but it ended up taking about three and a half years from project planning with community to final completion.</p></li>
</ul><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/223463/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Marnee Shay receives funding from the Australian Research Council, the Australian Government and AIATSIS.
Marnee Shay is a member of QATSIETAC with the Department of Education Queensland.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Fred Cobbo receives funding from AIATSIS. Fred Cobbo is an elected Council Member on the Cherbourg Aboriginal Shire Council..</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Grace Sarra receives funding from The Australian Research Council and AIATSIS.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Margaret Kettle receives funding from the Queensland Department of Education, AIATSIS, and the Scanlon Foundation.</span></em></p>
Researchers worked with Wakka Wakka Elders and local community members to co-design curriculum resources for local schools.
Marnee Shay, Associate Professor, Principal Research Fellow, The University of Queensland
Fred Cobbo, Adjunct Fellow, The University of Queensland
Grace Sarra, Professor, Faculty of Creative Industries, Education and Social Justice, Queensland University of Technology
Margaret Kettle, Professor, School of Education and the Arts, CQUniversity Australia
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/211619
2023-08-17T00:58:14Z
2023-08-17T00:58:14Z
A dramatic volcano eruption changed lives in Fiji 2,500 years ago. 100 generations have kept the story alive
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542953/original/file-20230816-20-ud5god.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=126%2C205%2C3663%2C2571&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Can you imagine a scientist who could neither read nor write, who spoke their wisdom in riddles, in tales of fantastic beings flying through the sky, fighting each another furiously and noisily, drinking the ocean dry, and throwing giant spears with force enough to leave massive holes in rocky headlands?</p>
<p>Our newly published research <a href="https://journal.oraltradition.org/driva-qele-stealing-earth-oral-accounts-of-the-volcanic-eruption-of-nabukelevu-mt-washington-kadavu-island-fiji-2500-years-ago/">in the journal Oral Tradition</a> shows memories of a volcanic eruption in Fiji some 2,500 years ago were encoded in oral traditions in precisely these ways.</p>
<p>They were never intended as fanciful stories, but rather as the pragmatic foundations of a system of local risk management.</p>
<h2>Life-changing events</h2>
<p>Around 2,500 years ago, at the western end of the island of Kadavu in the southern part of Fiji, the ground shook, the ocean became agitated, and clouds of billowing smoke and ash poured into the sky.</p>
<p>When the clouds cleared, the people saw a new mountain had formed, its shape resembling a mound of earth in which yams are grown. This gave the mountain its name – Nabukelevu, the giant yam mound. (It was renamed Mount Washington during Fiji’s colonial history.)</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542950/original/file-20230816-17-71orq5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Photo of a flat-topped volcano with a beach in front, and a drawing of a similar mountain in the top left corner" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542950/original/file-20230816-17-71orq5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542950/original/file-20230816-17-71orq5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=350&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542950/original/file-20230816-17-71orq5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=350&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542950/original/file-20230816-17-71orq5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=350&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542950/original/file-20230816-17-71orq5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542950/original/file-20230816-17-71orq5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542950/original/file-20230816-17-71orq5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=440&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Nabukelevu from the northeast, its top hidden in cloud. Inset: Nabukelevu from the west in 1827 after the drawing by the artist aboard the <em>Astrolabe</em>, the ship of French explorer Dumont d’Urville. It is an original lithograph by H. van der Burch after original artwork by Louis Auguste de Sainson.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons; Australian National Maritime Museum</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>So dramatic, so life-changing were the events <a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0377027303004141">associated with this eruption</a>, the people who witnessed it told stories about it. These stories have endured more than two millennia, faithfully passed on across roughly 100 generations to reach us today.</p>
<p>Scientists used to dismiss such stories as fictions, devalue them with labels like “myth” or “legend”. But the situation is changing. </p>
<p>Today, we are starting to recognise that many such “stories” are authentic memories of human pasts, encoded in oral traditions in ways that represent the worldviews of people from <a href="https://www.bloomsbury.com/au/edge-of-memory-9781472943286/">long ago</a>.</p>
<p>In other words, these stories served the same purpose as scientific accounts, and the people who told them were trying to understand the natural world, much like scientists do today.</p>
<h2>Battle of the <em>vu</em></h2>
<p>The most common story about the 2,500-year-old eruption of Nabukelevu is one involving a “god” (<em>vu</em> in Fijian) named Tanovo from the island of Ono, about 56km from the volcano.</p>
<p>Tanovo’s view of the sunset became blocked one day by this huge mountain. Our research identifies this as a volcanic dome that was created during the eruption, raising the height of the mountain several hundred feet.</p>
<p>Enraged, Tanovo flew to Nabukelevu and started to tear down the mountain, a process described by local residents as <em>driva qele</em> (stealing earth). This explains why even today the summit of Nabukelevu has a crater.</p>
<p>But Tanovo was interrupted by the “god” of Nabukelevu, named Tautaumolau. The pair started fighting. A chase ensued through the sky and, as the two twisted and turned, the earth being carried by Tanovo started falling to the ground, where it is said to have “created” islands.</p>
<p>We conclude that the sequence in which these islands are said to have been created is likely to represent the movement of the ash plume from the eruption, as shown on the map below.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542959/original/file-20230816-19-96orcs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A map showing a jagged landmass with an inset showing a plume of ash swirling across it" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542959/original/file-20230816-19-96orcs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542959/original/file-20230816-19-96orcs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542959/original/file-20230816-19-96orcs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542959/original/file-20230816-19-96orcs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=513&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542959/original/file-20230816-19-96orcs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=645&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542959/original/file-20230816-19-96orcs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=645&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542959/original/file-20230816-19-96orcs.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=645&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Smaller offshore islands named in seven versions of the Nabukelevu story as having formed following the Nabukelevu eruption. Inset shows the possible trace of the ash cloud based on the stories.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>‘Myths’ based in fact</h2>
<p>Geologists would today find it exceedingly difficult to deduce such details of an ancient eruption. But here, in the oral traditions of Kadavu people, this information is readily available.</p>
<p>Another detail we would never know if we did not have the oral traditions is about the tsunami the eruption caused. </p>
<p>In some versions of the story, one of the “gods” is so frightened, he hides beneath the sea. But his rival comes along and drinks up all the water at that place, a detail our research interprets as a memory of the ocean withdrawing prior to tsunami impact.</p>
<p>Other details in the oral traditions recall how one god threw a massive spear at his rival but missed, leaving behind a huge hole in a rock. This is a good example of how landforms likely predating the eruption can be retrofitted to a narrative.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542952/original/file-20230816-23-afpteq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="An orange rock jutting out of the water with a large hole within" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542952/original/file-20230816-23-afpteq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/542952/original/file-20230816-23-afpteq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542952/original/file-20230816-23-afpteq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542952/original/file-20230816-23-afpteq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542952/original/file-20230816-23-afpteq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542952/original/file-20230816-23-afpteq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/542952/original/file-20230816-23-afpteq.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The hole made when a spear was thrown by one god at the other, on the north coast of eastern Kadavu.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/4.0/">CC BY-ND</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Our study adds to the growing body of scientific research into “myths” and “legends”, showing that many have a basis in fact, and the details they contain add depth and breadth to our understanding of human pasts.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://kaidravuni.com/">Kadavu volcano stories</a> discussed here also show ancient societies were no less risk aware and risk averse than ours are today. The imperative was to survive, greatly aided by keeping alive memories of all the hazards that existed in a particular place.</p>
<p>Australian First Peoples’ cultures are <a href="https://theconversation.com/when-the-bullin-shrieked-aboriginal-memories-of-volcanic-eruptions-thousands-of-years-ago-81986">replete with similar stories</a>.</p>
<p>Literate people, those who read and write, tend to be impressed by the extraordinary time depth of oral traditions, like those about the 2,500-year old eruption of Nabukelevu. But not everyone is.</p>
<p>In early 2019, I was sitting and chatting to Ratu Petero Uluinaceva in Waisomo Village, after he had finished relating the Ono people’s story of the eruption. I told him this particular story recalled events which occurred more than two millennia ago – and thought he might be impressed. But he wasn’t.</p>
<p>“We know our stories are that old, that they recall our ancient history,” he told me with a grin. “But we are glad you have now learned this too!”</p>
<hr>
<p><em>Acknowledgements: The original research was conducted in collaboration with Loredana Lancini and Rita Compatangelo-Soussignan (University of Le Mans), Meli Nanuku and Kaliopate Tavola (Fiji Museum), Taniela Bolea (University of the Sunshine Coast) and Paul Geraghty (University of the South Pacific).</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/211619/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Patrick D. Nunn receives funding from the Australian Research Council, the Australia Pacific Climate Partnership, the Asia-Pacific Network, the Natural Environment Research Council (UK) and the British Academy.
The original research was conducted in collaboration with Loredana Lancini and Rita Compatangelo-Soussignan (University of Le Mans), Meli Nanuku and Kaliopate Tavola (Fiji Museum), Taniela Bolea (University of the Sunshine Coast) and Paul Geraghty (University of the South Pacific).</span></em></p>
Many ‘myths’ are authentic memories of human pasts, told by people who passed down precise accounts of their history.
Patrick D. Nunn, Professor of Geography, School of Law and Society, University of the Sunshine Coast
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/206918
2023-06-21T20:15:18Z
2023-06-21T20:15:18Z
How Indigenous cultural practices can improve waste management in communities
<p>Improper <a href="https://iddpnql.ca/wp-content/uploads/2022/01/211129_IDDPNQL_Compte-rendu-colloque_EN.pdf">municipal solid waste (MSW) management</a> ranks high among environmental issues First Nations communities in Canada face. </p>
<p>Many communities face historical, structural and operational challenges, such as inadequate capacity and lack of financial resources. Many also lack waste diversion programs including recycling. All these challenges hinder efforts of communities to improve MSW management practices, attitudes and behaviours.</p>
<p>Nonetheless, some communities <a href="https://www.sac-isc.gc.ca/eng/1642696402052/1642696428568">continue to push for improved MSW management systems by developing plans and pursuing waste diversion programs</a> such as <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0vG6LXGr8PY">composting and recycling</a>. </p>
<p>These approaches, however, have <a href="https://mspace.lib.umanitoba.ca/items/4a1c8c69-ac39-4a23-99f0-908ce32af26c">not incorporated nor considered the culture of First Nations</a> in the process of finding solutions to MSW challenges. First Nations’ way of life is embedded in their culture. This means that any MSW management approaches that seek to improve conditions in communities must incorporate their unique cultures. </p>
<p>These are issues that need attention and that community members are interested in discussing to find community-specific solutions. </p>
<h2>How does culture impact MSW management?</h2>
<p>I am a settler non-Indigenous researcher, who works with Indigenous communities in Canada on MSW management. </p>
<p><a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/11771801231163635">My latest research</a> conducted in collaboration with 52 community members from Peguis First Nation in Manitoba and Heiltsuk Nation in British Columbia outlines five cultural factors that influence community members’ municipal solid waste management practices:</p>
<ul>
<li><p>Avoiding waste: Taking just what one needs and not wasting anything taken from the environment or land. For example, community members use all parts of a hunted animal.</p></li>
<li><p>Taking care of one another: Sharing items, particularly food, with others and not hoarding prevents waste.</p></li>
<li><p>Protecting the land: Eschewing contamination and pollution of the environment or land and keeping it clean.</p></li>
<li><p>Respecting the land: Adhering to protocols about mother earth because it sustains life. </p></li>
<li><p>Connection to the land: Experiencing and having knowledge of the environment and land. </p></li>
</ul>
<p>The overarching goal of these practices, community members explained, is to prevent the overconsumption of resources that underpins society’s <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Toxic-Capitalism-Consumerism-Waste-Generation/dp/1477219048">throwaway culture</a> and to protect the environment for future generations. These cultural practices challenge them to think differently about how to deal with their waste.</p>
<h2>Dealing with waste today</h2>
<p>Many Indigenous communities have developed <a href="https://www.amazon.ca/Indigenous-Peoples-Twenty-First-Century-Frideres/dp/019903317X">intrinsic relationships with the environment</a> that have sustained them throughout generations. </p>
<p>The <a href="https://unitingthreefiresagainstviolence.org/the-7-grandfathers-teachin/">Seven Grandfather Teachings</a> — respect, love, honesty, truth, bravery, humility and wisdom — have particularly guided First Nations in their relationships with the land and with others — <a href="https://www.edu.gov.mb.ca/k12/abedu/perspectives/concepts.html">living and non-living</a>. </p>
<p>However, applying these important teachings and the five cultural factors above to the management of municipal solid waste was not widespread in the two communities we worked with, because of increased MSW generation, according to community members.</p>
<p>Most of the community members we spoke with indicated that the application of cultural teachings, values and beliefs to managing MSW is extremely lacking. One member said, “When I see litter around in the street and waterways, I see a disconnect from <a href="https://doi.org/10.1177/11771801231163635">our culture</a>. This is because our culture is to look after the land and respect it and leave it as you met it.” </p>
<p>Another member revealed that: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“A lot of people ignore our culture when it comes to waste management… However, if you are taught to protect the land, then you need to care more about recycling…The culture here has died compared to when I was a child, because everybody cleaned the environment, and you attended ceremonies to learn how things are done.”</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The legacy of <a href="https://gladue.usask.ca/sites/gladue1.usask.ca/files/2023-01/Indian%20Act%20Amendment_1884.pdf">bans on cultural gatherings</a> and assimilationist policies continue to have negative impacts on Indigenous communities to this day. </p>
<p>For example, by forcefully <a href="https://global.oup.com/academic/product/indigenous-peoples-within-canada-9780199028481?lang=3n&cc=lk">relocating First Nations to isolated or remote</a> lands from their original territories, they depend on packaged products, which increases waste generation. Many communities that were also <a href="https://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/61687944.pdf">nomadic and lived off the land became sedentary</a>, leaving them unprepared to manage the high volumes of waste they produced.</p>
<p>And, with infrastructure, programs and finances lacking, communities have not been able to properly manage MSW and its <a href="https://www.researchgate.net/publication/364174909_Environmental_Sustainability_Impacts_of_Solid_Waste_Management_Practices_in_the_Global_South">resultant negative environmental and health impacts</a>. </p>
<h2>Holding culture at the centre of policy</h2>
<p>Through this research, we have established that the culture of First Nations influences MSW management. However, applying cultural practices is not common among community members because of the impacts of colonization. Most community members indicated that their culture has significantly eroded and some aspects lost because of it. </p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-pollution-is-as-much-about-colonialism-as-chemicals-dont-call-me-resilient-transcript-ep-11-170697">Why pollution is as much about colonialism as chemicals — Don't Call Me Resilient transcript EP 11</a>
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<p>Revitalizing Indigenous cultures is vital to improving the management of MSW and ensuring environmental protection in communities. It is through this reconnection with their traditions and practices that First Nations can apply their culture to protect the environment.</p>
<p>As participants in our research unequivocally suggested: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>“People must be taught and be aware of the teachings… The teachings have to be the connection to the land, and that will make them think differently about things like waste management.” </p>
</blockquote>
<p>As Canada works towards reconciliation with Indigenous Peoples, supporting <a href="https://fpcc.ca">cultural revitalization programs</a> and efforts should be a responsibility for all persons, institutions and organizations. </p>
<p>The federal government, through Indigenous Services Canada, as well as provincial and municipal governments should work with Indigenous communities and incorporate their cultures into MSW policies, plans and activities. This could help engender greater participation in programs by community members, because of the connection with their values and beliefs.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/206918/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Anderson Assuah does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The overarching goal of Indigenous cultural practices is to prevent the overconsumption of resources that underpins society’s throwaway culture.
Anderson Assuah, Assistant Professor, Aboriginal and Northern Studies, University College of the North
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/195565
2023-03-31T04:40:16Z
2023-03-31T04:40:16Z
Listen! The simple thing the finance sector can do for Indigenous customers that can change people’s lives
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/518615/original/file-20230330-20-cep2dl.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C436%2C4926%2C2477&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The story of the Aboriginal Community Benefit Fund, whose name and marketing misled thousands of customers into believing it was Indigenous owned and run, is a stark example of how Australia’s financial regulations have let down Indigenous people.</p>
<p>It took a <a href="https://www.royalcommission.gov.au/system/files/2020-09/fsrc-volume-1-final-report.pdf">financial royal commission</a> to expose how the fund had exploited regulatory loopholes and the significance of “<a href="https://www.commonground.org.au/article/death-and-sorry-business">Sorry Business</a>” in some Indigenous cultures to line the pockets of its non-Indigenous owners over three decades. </p>
<p>Those loopholes were finally closed in 2020 (the royal commission reported in 2019). The corporate regulator, the Australian Securities and Investments Commission (ASIC), then went to the Federal Court <a href="https://asic.gov.au/about-asic/news-centre/find-a-media-release/2020-releases/20-262mr-asic-commences-proceedings-against-acbf-funeral-plans-and-youpla-group-concerning-funeral-expenses-insurance/">seeking a A$7.5 million fine</a> for deceptive and misleading conduct. </p>
<p>The fund, rebranded as Youpla, went into liquidation in March 2022, leaving thousands of families <a href="https://financialrights.org.au/mob-strong/media-release-youpla-collapse-to-fuel-trauma-and-intergenerational-debt-for-indigenous-families-across-australia/">unable to pay for Sorry Business</a>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/from-body-snatchers-to-dodgy-marketers-the-dirty-history-of-funeral-schemes-160699">From body snatchers to dodgy marketers: the dirty history of funeral schemes</a>
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</em>
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<p>But it’s not just dodgy schemes sold “by the unscrupulous to the unsophisticated and vulnerable” (in <a href="https://www.royalcommission.gov.au/system/files/2020-09/volume-1.pdf">the words</a> of Commissioner Ken Hayne) that Indigenous people have had to contend with. The royal commission also exposed the difficulties many face just with the normal financial rules, particularly when they live in remote areas.</p>
<h2>Financial hurdles</h2>
<p>Consider something relatively simple: meeting identification requirements. If you’ve got a birth certificate, driver’s licence, or passport, no problem. But what if you don’t? </p>
<p>As Nathan Boyle, a senior analyst with ASIC’s <a href="https://asic.gov.au/about-asic/what-we-do/how-we-operate/stakeholder-liaison/asic-s-indigenous-outreach-program/">Indigenous Outreach Program</a> explained to the royal commission, the legacy of government policies – notably child removal – means many births, deaths and marriages in remote communities may not have been registered. Even when a person does have identification, names on documents may differ – between their traditional “skin” or “kin” name", birth name or adoptive name.</p>
<p>The royal commission <a href="https://www.royalcommission.gov.au/system/files/2020-09/volume-1.pdf">reported</a> problems rooted in a lack of cultural understanding and culturally appropriate
communication. One example was the “needless difficulty” a Northern Territory customer had switching to a basic account, being made to make multiple three-hour trips to a bank branch in Katherine “to achieve what should have been the simplest objective”. </p>
<h2>Listening to customers</h2>
<p>But not every story from the royal commission was bad. An exemplar of good service was QSuper, the Queensland superannuation scheme, now part of Australian Retirement Trust. In his evidence Boyle praised QSuper senior executive Lyn Melcer as a “champion of Indigenous superannuation issues”.</p>
<p>What was the key to QSuper’s approach? It’s actually <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10551-022-05253-4">common sense</a>. Melcer started listening to the stories of Indigenous customers, and ensured others in the organisation heard those stories too. </p>
<p>Melcer is an industry veteran of 40 years. </p>
<p>In 2014 Boyle invited her, as QSuper’s head of technical services, which involves ensuring organisational processes meet regulatory requirements, to join him on a visit to the Lockhart River in far north Queensland, to hear the problems people faced accessing their super.</p>
<p>About 2,500 km north of Brisbane, Lockhart River is just 300 km from the tip of Cape York. This is <a href="https://statements.qld.gov.au/statements/93920">Uutaalnganu country</a>. The town’s 700 residents represent six local clans, known as the Pama Malnkana (people of the beach), their forebears having been drawn together at the site of an Anglican Church mission. </p>
<p><iframe id="gwKDN" class="tc-infographic-datawrapper" src="https://datawrapper.dwcdn.net/gwKDN/1/" height="400px" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>Boyle wanted Melcer to see and hear firsthand the problems people faced in accessing their superannuation funds. For example, to gain early access to super for medical reasons may require certificates from two independent medical experts – which Lockhart River doesn’t have.</p>
<p>Hearing these stories firsthand had a profound impact, as Melcer later <a href="https://webarchive.nla.gov.au/awa/20190208084821/https://financialservices.royalcommission.gov.au/public-hearings/Documents/transcripts-2018/transcript-13-august-2018.pdf">told the royal commission</a>: “I thought we treated all our customers equally because we had exactly the same rules for everyone. What Lockhart River showed me is not everyone starts in the same place.” </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="Lockhart River township," src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517835/original/file-20230328-2416-xu864f.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517835/original/file-20230328-2416-xu864f.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517835/original/file-20230328-2416-xu864f.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517835/original/file-20230328-2416-xu864f.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517835/original/file-20230328-2416-xu864f.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517835/original/file-20230328-2416-xu864f.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517835/original/file-20230328-2416-xu864f.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Lockhart River township is on the site of a former mission.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://lockhart.qld.gov.au/">Lockhart River Aboriginal Shire Council</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Upon returning to QSuper’s Brisbane office, Melcer committed to ensuring the rest of the organisation heard those stories too. She realised reports about numbers wouldn’t cut it. “I never talk about statistics only,” she told us. “I talk about stories, the human side.” </p>
<h2>Listening, and acting</h2>
<p>We interviewed Melcer and 28 other people to understand how actively listening to customers changed QSuper’s <a href="https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s10551-022-05253-4">culture and processes</a>.</p>
<p>The fund started sending out teams to remote communities – Thursday Island, Horn Island, Bamaga, Yarrabah, Darnley Island, Doomadgee – to help customers with their superannuation issues. </p>
<p>From these experiences came greater awareness within the organisation of all the ways the standard rules and regulations could disadvantage clients in remote areas. </p>
<p>“You need to spend time to understand the challenges faced in our remote communities around accessing basic services, such as a phone, the internet,” one call-centre leader (also Indigenous) told us. “It’s so different.”</p>
<p>Since 2014, QSuper has engaged in more than 100 activities such as cultural training. A <a href="https://www.reconciliation.org.au/reconciliation-action-plans/">Reconciliation Action Plan</a> has been made. Experiences have been shared at Indigenous finance summits and Australian Taxation Office forums. The fund has worked with Indigenous finance counsellors, and sponsored a “<a href="https://firstnationsfoundation.org.au/big-super-day-out/">Big Super Day Out</a>” in Cairns as part of NAIDOC Week. It has engaged with the Queensland Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages to resolve cases when documents needed to access superannuation can’t be found.</p>
<p>Melcer and her colleagues also worked to change the rules about identification imposed by Australia’s financial-crime regulator, AUSTRAC. This led to AUSTRAC changing its guidelines in 2016 to allow the use of non-conventional forms of identification, such as a referee’s statement or an Indigenous organisation membership card. This has <a href="https://www.austrac.gov.au/business/how-comply-and-report-guidance-and-resources/customer-identification-and-verification/identifying-customers-who-dont-have-conventional-forms-id">benefited others as well</a>, such as women fleeing domestic violence or those who have lost everything in a flood or fire.</p>
<p>Listening to people’s stories, not just treating them as numbers on a spreadsheet, may seem like common sense, but it’s not something the finance industry has done. Nor, for that matter, many others.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/its-time-we-moved-the-goalposts-on-indigenous-policies-so-they-reflect-indigenous-values-112282">It's time we moved the goalposts on Indigenous policies, so they reflect Indigenous values</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The power of storytelling is something at the heart of <a href="https://www.yarn.com.au/blogs/yarn-in-the-community/the-importance-of-storytelling-within-indigenous-culture">all Indigenous cultures</a>. It is how Indigenous Australians have passed on their knowledge and wisdom from one generation to the next for 60,000 years. It’s something from which we can all learn.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/195565/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Clare JM Burns received $5000 funding from ECSTRA and the Australasian Business Ethics Network to explore ethical decision making in Indigenous finance.
No direct or indirect commercial benefits to the researchers conducting this study occurred; however, in the spirit of full disclosure, the lead researcher, Clare JM Burns, wishes to state she was employed by the Queensland Government from 2012 to 2014, where QSuper was the default super fund.
</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Cindy Shannon, Deborah Delaney, and Luke Houghton do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
One super fund’s efforts to properly serve remote Indigenous customers sparked a national change – which has helped women fleeing domestic violence and those who’ve lost everything in a flood or fire.
Clare JM Burns, Assistant Professor and Non-executive Director, Bond University
Cindy Shannon, Deputy Vice Chancellor (Indigenous, Diversity and Inclusion), Griffith University
Deborah Delaney, Associate Professor, Griffith University
Luke Houghton, Associate Professor and Academic Director Executive Education, Griffith University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/202222
2023-03-30T18:07:34Z
2023-03-30T18:07:34Z
Archaeology and genomics together with Indigenous knowledge revise the human-horse story in the American West
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/518204/original/file-20230329-235-219670.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=4%2C0%2C920%2C736&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Horses are an active part of life for the Lakota and many other Plains nations today.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jacquelyn Córdova/Northern Vision Productions</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Few places in the world are more closely linked with horses in the popular imagination than the Great Plains of North America. Romanticized stories of cowboys and the Wild West figure prominently in popular culture, and domestic horses are embedded in everything from place names, like Wild Horse Mesa, to sporting mascots, like the Denver Broncos.</p>
<p>Horses first evolved in the Americas <a href="https://doi.org/10.1038/nature12323">around 4 million years ago</a>. Then horses largely disappeared from the fossil record by about 10,000 years ago. However, archaeological finds from the Yukon to the Gulf Coast make it clear that horses were an important part of ancient lifeways for the early peoples of North America.</p>
<p>Millennia later, horses were reintroduced by European colonists, and eventually the Great Plains became home to <a href="https://www.colorado.edu/cumuseum/horses-north-american-west">powerful Indigenous horse cultures</a>, many of which <a href="https://yalebooks.yale.edu/book/9780300151176/the-comanche-empire/">leveraged their expertise on horseback</a> to maintain sovereignty even amid the rising tides of colonial exploitation, genocide and disease.</p>
<p>But how did horses become part of life on the Great Plains? And are there pieces of that story that may be missing from today’s popular narratives?</p>
<p><a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=mlo_aD8AAAAJ&hl=en&oi=sra">One of us is an archaeozoologist</a> who studies ancient animal remains. <a href="https://scholar.google.com/citations?user=uDXKW2gAAAAJ&hl=en&oi=ao">The other is a Lakota scientist</a> who specializes in ancient horse genomics and is expert in Indigenous oral traditions about horses. Together we created a large team of scientists and scholars from around the world, including those from Pueblo, Pawnee, Comanche and Lakota nations, and set out to see what archaeology, Indigenous knowledge systems and genomics together could <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/science.adc9691">tell us about the horse in the American West</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/518020/original/file-20230328-3878-vvd9gj.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="painting of Indigenous horses at a camp on the Great Plains" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/518020/original/file-20230328-3878-vvd9gj.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/518020/original/file-20230328-3878-vvd9gj.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/518020/original/file-20230328-3878-vvd9gj.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/518020/original/file-20230328-3878-vvd9gj.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/518020/original/file-20230328-3878-vvd9gj.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=311&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/518020/original/file-20230328-3878-vvd9gj.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=311&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/518020/original/file-20230328-3878-vvd9gj.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=311&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Horses have long been a part of Indigenous cultures in the American West.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Ettore Mazza</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Complicating the colonial version of the story</h2>
<p>Over recent decades, the story of people and horses has largely been told <a href="https://www.hup.harvard.edu/catalog.php?isbn=9780674027206">through the lens of colonial history</a>. One reason for this is logistical – European settlers often wrote down their observations, creating documentary records that partially chronicle the early relationships between <a href="https://www.pbs.org/video/native-horses-zwibqv/">colonists, Indigenous cultures and horses</a> in the colonial West. Another reason, though, is prejudice: Indigenous peoples in the Americas have been excluded from telling their side of the story.</p>
<p>While historical records are a valuable tool for understanding the past, they also carry with them the biases and cultural context of the people who wrote them. Perhaps unsurprisingly, many such documents tend to minimize or dismiss the interactions between Native people and horses. More importantly, the written record’s scope is limited to those places European colonists visited – which, until the 18th and 19th centuries, excluded much of the Plains and the Rocky Mountains.</p>
<p>Filtering of Indigenous horse cultures through a European framework left narratives unrecognizable to many Indigenous peoples.</p>
<p>Many models for the origins of Indigenous horse use on the Plains focus on one particular date: the Pueblo Revolt of 1680. During this momentous uprising, Pueblo people living under harsh Spanish subjugation organized a rebellion that <a href="https://indianpueblo.org/a-brief-history-of-the-pueblo-revolt/">expelled Spanish colonists from New Mexico</a> for more than a decade. Many historians link the revolt with the first spread of horses beyond the Southwest, because with the Spanish gone, so was their control over their livestock at colonial settlements. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517933/original/file-20230328-14-76y39c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Rock art silhouette of horse and rider" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517933/original/file-20230328-14-76y39c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517933/original/file-20230328-14-76y39c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517933/original/file-20230328-14-76y39c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517933/original/file-20230328-14-76y39c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517933/original/file-20230328-14-76y39c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517933/original/file-20230328-14-76y39c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517933/original/file-20230328-14-76y39c.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ancestral Comanche or Shoshone horse and rider image at Tolar in southern Wyoming.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pat Doak</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>However, other scholars who prioritize and understand Indigenous knowledge and scientific frameworks have <a href="https://www.annualreviews.org/doi/abs/10.1146/annurev-animal-051622-091935">questioned these assumptions</a>, pointing out historical inconsistencies and highlighting oral traditions that support a deeper antiquity to the human-horse relationship among many Indigenous nations.</p>
<p>Over recent years, archaeology has emerged as a powerful tool for exploring aspects of the human-horse story that may not have been written down in books. In Mongolia, for example, <a href="https://theconversation.com/humans-domesticated-horses-new-tech-could-help-archaeologists-figure-out-where-and-when-131831">our analysis of ancient horse bones</a> has shown that steppe cultures herded, rode and cared for horses centuries before their first mention in historical records.</p>
<p>Our <a href="https://www.colorado.edu/today/2021/02/04/horse-remains-reveal-new-insights-how-native-peoples-raised-horses">first studies in the western U.S.</a> suggested there may be a rich archaeological record of horse remains in the West linked to Native cultures, even if this record was often overlooked or misclassified in museum collections. </p>
<h2>Remains of horses provide their own clues</h2>
<p>For our new study, <a href="https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/science.adc9691">published in the journal Science</a>, we looked for horse remains in museum collections across the Western U.S., from Idaho to Kansas. These horses ranged from single, isolated bones to nearly complete horses, with incredible preservation.</p>
<p>Among the dozens of ancient horses we identified, precision <a href="https://www.britannica.com/science/carbon-14-dating">radiocarbon dating</a> revealed that several lived in the early 17th century or earlier – decades before the Pueblo Revolt of 1680, and in some areas, at least a century or more before the arrival of the first Europeans.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517935/original/file-20230328-16-kkx90o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="model of horse's skull with a woven bridle tied around the lower jaw" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517935/original/file-20230328-16-kkx90o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517935/original/file-20230328-16-kkx90o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517935/original/file-20230328-16-kkx90o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517935/original/file-20230328-16-kkx90o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517935/original/file-20230328-16-kkx90o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=545&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517935/original/file-20230328-16-kkx90o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=545&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517935/original/file-20230328-16-kkx90o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=545&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">3D model of a horse cranium and replica rawhide bridle in the Archaeozoology Laboratory at the University of Colorado.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">William Taylor</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We analyzed the ancient horses’ bones and found clues that across the Great Plains these early horses were not just present but already an important part of Indigenous societies. Some horses have skeletal features showing they were ridden or received veterinary care. Other information, like the method of burial or inclusion alongside other animals such as coyotes, shows horses were part of ceremonial practices.</p>
<p>We used <a href="https://www.nature.com/scitable/knowledge/library/the-use-of-stable-isotopes-in-the-96648168/">isotope analysis</a> to learn more about the ancient diet and movements of these animals by measuring heavier or lighter variants of molecules in their bones and teeth. We found that some of the earliest horses in southwestern Wyoming and northern Kansas were not escapees of Spanish expeditions but were instead raised locally by Native communities.</p>
<p>One baby horse we analyzed that lived in ancestral Comanche country around 1650 at Blacks Fork, Wyoming, was born and died locally – directly contradicting a 1724 European observation that the Comanche obtained horses only by “barter,” and “<a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/659496">had not yet been able to raise any colts</a>.” In another case, a horse that also lived in the mid-17th century along the Missouri River was likely fed during the winter with maize, an Indigenous domestic crop.</p>
<p>DNA sequencing of archaeological horses, although revealing Iberian ancestry, shows important connections between ancient horses and <a href="https://www.sacredwaysanctuary.org/preservation-program">those stewarded by present-day communities</a> like the Lakota, for whom horses continue to be a key part of ceremony, tradition and daily life. While future work will be necessary to establish exactly when and how horses reached northern areas of the Plains, our results point to Indigenous networks of trade and exchange – perhaps bringing horses across the Plains and Rockies from Mexico or the American Southwest.</p>
<h2>New evidence supports old stories</h2>
<p>Our findings also validate oral traditions for many of the Native communities affected by the study.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517936/original/file-20230328-22-uoirih.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="seated man holds horse's skull in his hands" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517936/original/file-20230328-22-uoirih.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/517936/original/file-20230328-22-uoirih.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517936/original/file-20230328-22-uoirih.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517936/original/file-20230328-22-uoirih.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=800&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517936/original/file-20230328-22-uoirih.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517936/original/file-20230328-22-uoirih.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/517936/original/file-20230328-22-uoirih.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1005&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Graduate student and Lakota archaeologist Chance Ward analyzes horse remains in the Archaeozoology Laboratory at the University of Colorado-Boulder.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Samantha Eads</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Our study is the result of an intentionally collaborative approach. Our Lakota partners, led by Chief Joe American Horse and one of us (Collin), published an accompanying <a href="https://maxwellmuseum.unm.edu/research/technical-series/no-42-standing-un%C4%8Di-maka-grandmother-earth-and-all-life-introduction">introduction to the Lakota relationship with horses</a> that helped serve as a foundation for our collaborative work.</p>
<p>Partnering archaeological science and Native perspectives ended up telling a very different story of horses in the American West. Comanche tribal historian and elder Jimmy Arterberry noted, for example, that the archaeological discoveries from ancestrally connected areas of Wyoming “support and concur with Comanche oral tradition” that Comanche ancestors raised and cared for horses before their movement to the southern Plains.</p>
<p>We hope future work will continue to highlight the ancient connections between people and horses, and prompt a rethink of assumptions built into society’s understanding of the past.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/202222/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>William Taylor receives funding from the National Science Foundation (Collaborative Research: Horses and Human Societies in the American West, #1949305).
</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Yvette Running Horse Collin receives funding from the European Union’s Horizon 2020 research and innovation programme under the Marie Skłodowska-Curie grant agreement no. 890702-MethylRIDE.</span></em></p>
European colonists chronicled their version of how Indigenous peoples lived with horses. New collaborative research adds scientific detail to Indigenous narratives that tell a different story.
William Taylor, Assistant Professor and Curator of Archaeology, University of Colorado Boulder
Yvette Running Horse Collin, Postdoctoral Researcher in Anthropobiology and Genomics, Université de Toulouse III – Paul Sabatier
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/198987
2023-03-22T19:42:26Z
2023-03-22T19:42:26Z
5 Indigenous engineering feats you should know about
<p>For many millennia, Indigenous Australians have engineered the landscape using sophisticated technological and philosophical knowledge systems in a deliberate response to changing social and environmental circumstances.</p>
<p>These knowledge systems integrate profound understanding of Country, bringing together an understanding of the topography and geology of the landscape, its natural cycles and ecological systems, its hydrological systems and its natural resources, including fauna and flora. This has enabled people to manage resources sustainably and reliably. </p>
<p>Engineering is about process, and the process of engineering was very different in Australia before the English colonised the land. However, when our Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander students take the step into engineering, or other STEM subjects, there is little material provided that relates to their experience or their peoples’ technical and management knowledge. This is a result of historic denial of the First Nations of Australia as enduring scientific and technical civilisations.</p>
<p>The versatility and minimalist nature of Aboriginal technology designs are inspiring. The flexibility and artistry in tool manufacture, which can differ in neighbouring communities, is a salient lesson for engineers now. Some key aspects of this approach can be seen through five examples of ingenious Indigenous engineering. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/ten-classics-of-indigenous-design-99672">Ten classics of Indigenous design</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>The Kimberley raft</h2>
<p>The King Sound region of the Kimberleys in Western Australia is renowned for its strong tides, rips and whirlpools. Navigation can be difficult, though there are areas of calm water in the bays. The Bardi community, from <a href="https://www.westernaustralia.com/au/attraction/one-arm-point/56b266eed5f1565045daa11f">One Arm Point</a>, call their raft the <em>kalwa</em>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/516221/original/file-20230319-16-cr0ayg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/516221/original/file-20230319-16-cr0ayg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/516221/original/file-20230319-16-cr0ayg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=191&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516221/original/file-20230319-16-cr0ayg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=191&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516221/original/file-20230319-16-cr0ayg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=191&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516221/original/file-20230319-16-cr0ayg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=240&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516221/original/file-20230319-16-cr0ayg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=240&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516221/original/file-20230319-16-cr0ayg.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=240&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Side view and plan of the kalwa raft, a traditional watercraft from the Bardi community of north-west Western Australia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Permission from David Payne, Curator at the Australian National
Maritime Museum.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The raft is made mostly of light mangrove wood, providing buoyancy. The two fan-shaped sections that make up the boat are wider and thicker at the outer ends to provide stability. These two sections, lapped over each other, are made on a base of mangrove trunks sharpened at the ends; hardwood is used to pin them together. A small basket, made with hardwood pegs on the back section, is used to secure belongings or any fish that are caught. </p>
<p>The design ensures the top of the raft stays above the water when loaded with the paddler, passengers and belongings. The size of the raft determines the load it can carry. Water that washes over the raft will flow out through the gaps between the wooden slats. </p>
<p>Ingeniously, the structure can be pulled apart. One half can be tied to a harpooned dugong, which will swim around and become exhausted, while the hunter floats on the other half.</p>
<p>Rafts were made in different styles all around the coast of Australia, from the different materials available in particular areas and for uses relevant to that landscape.</p>
<h2>Thuwarri Thaa Aboriginal ochre mine</h2>
<p>The <a href="https://www.dcceew.gov.au/parks-heritage/heritage/places/national/wilgie-mia">Thuwarri Thaa (aka Wilgie Mia) Aboriginal ochre mine</a> is located in central WA in the Weld Range, between Mount Magnet and Meekatharra. It has been in use for probably tens of thousands of years, including by non-Aboriginal miners from the 1940s to 1970s. </p>
<p>The ochre is still important in body and artefact painting for ceremony. It is also used as a skin coolant during summer and for warmth during winter; as a fly repellent; in curing hides and in making glue. </p>
<p>The mine is a deep, sloping shaft cut into the mountain. Wood was carried into the cavern and made into scaffolding to reach seams of ochre out of reach above the cavern floor. Tunnels have been dug along seams in the walls. Heat, flaked pebbles and fire-hardened, sharpened wood were used to undercut the seams of ochre. Fire may have been used to crack the surrounding rock, as well as to provide light deep in the cavern. At times, large sections of ochre could be wedged off.</p>
<p>The ochre was mined from deep underground and then processed onsite. Some was transported by traders northwest to Carnarvon (450 km), south to Kellerberrin (525 km) and east to Wiluna (300 km). To transport, the ochre was dampened and rolled into balls.</p>
<p>Thuwarri Thaa was reserved as a men’s only site and stories pass down knowledge of the site and the material. Its location, its mining and its uses are embedded in the creation story of the <em>marlu</em> or red kangaroo. The red ochre is his blood, the yellow ochre is his liver and green is his gall. The entire mining and distribution industry was regulated by these cultural constraints and influences and thus maintained sustainable practices.</p>
<p>When non-Aboriginal people mined there, the roof was blasted off a large cavern at a nearby site, little Wilgie Mia. Ochre from the site is still used in ceremony. People can visit with a permit if guided by Wajarri Yamaji Traditional Owner guides.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/516817/original/file-20230321-3654-v5a9sw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A dirt road leading to an ochre mine." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/516817/original/file-20230321-3654-v5a9sw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/516817/original/file-20230321-3654-v5a9sw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516817/original/file-20230321-3654-v5a9sw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516817/original/file-20230321-3654-v5a9sw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516817/original/file-20230321-3654-v5a9sw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516817/original/file-20230321-3654-v5a9sw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/516817/original/file-20230321-3654-v5a9sw.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=501&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">View towards Little Wilgie hill in 2015.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Courtesy of Anneliese Carson).</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/buried-tools-and-pigments-tell-a-new-history-of-humans-in-australia-for-65-000-years-81021">Buried tools and pigments tell a new history of humans in Australia for 65,000 years</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Budj Bim eel traps</h2>
<p>The Budj Bim area (also known as Lake Condah), a dormant volcano in south western Victoria, was continuously occupied for thousands of years. The Gunditjmara community farmed eels and harvested galaxia fish in a series of dams and water channels constructed out of the basalt lava flows, an amazing surveying feat. </p>
<p>More than 30,000 years ago, Budj Bim (called Mount Eccles by Europeans) spewed forth the Tyrendarra lava flow, a significant creation event in this country recorded in local oral history. The lava flow to the sea created large wetlands by changing the drainage pattern. This volcanic activity lasted until after the last ice age. Carbon dating shows aquaculture began as early as 6,700 years ago, soon after the lava flow stopped.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513589/original/file-20230306-16-ehtx0t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Fish traps in the landscape." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513589/original/file-20230306-16-ehtx0t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513589/original/file-20230306-16-ehtx0t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513589/original/file-20230306-16-ehtx0t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513589/original/file-20230306-16-ehtx0t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513589/original/file-20230306-16-ehtx0t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513589/original/file-20230306-16-ehtx0t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513589/original/file-20230306-16-ehtx0t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Budj Bim world heritage site.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Office of the Premier of Victoria/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The people then continued to alter the water flow through the region with excavated channels. The channels are made in straight or curved paths, with sharp corners helping to reduce the speed of water. Dam walls were built to produce ponds.</p>
<p>These traps for eels and the fish traps in other locations were designed to allow animals to enter the trapping area, be retained in the cooling water and then captured when required for food. The eels remained in pools designed for collection for long periods, where they would breed. This provided a food supply all year round.</p>
<p>The rock was also used to construct dwellings or stone huts, along with 36 storage structures and 12 pits, which are associated with eel trapping. Most of the stone dwellings have a diameter of less than 1.6m. The rest are considered to be storage caches. The area has many scar trees with signs of burning; many of the Manna gums were used for baking and smoking and preserving the trapped eel. Smoked eel products were traded over a wide area.</p>
<p>The structures were exposed during heavy fires in the area and the extent of the all the engineering work is still not known. These traps are an Australian UNESCO World Heritage site, the only one listed exclusively for its Aboriginal cultural values. The Gunditjmara people now work with engineering students designing projects exploring engineering approaches embedded in the landscape.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-detective-work-behind-the-budj-bim-eel-traps-world-heritage-bid-71800">The detective work behind the Budj Bim eel traps World Heritage bid</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Yidaki</h2>
<p>When Ben Lange, an Aboriginal man from Cairns who plays the Yidaki, came to the University of New South Wales to study electrical engineering, he worked with the physics department to look at how the Aboriginal people created sounds with <a href="http://www.dreamtime-didjeriduw3server.com/technical/didjeridu.html">this instrument</a>. This work led to greater understanding of the use of the mouth and its components in speech production, providing inspiration for new approaches in speech therapy.</p>
<p>The Yidaki (European name the Didgeridoo) is a drone pipe played with circular breathing – the lungs are used as a form of air storage to maintain a continual flow through the pipe. The wood is selected from termite-hollowed trees. This bore is widened by hand, especially at the base of the pipe. Bees’ wax is used to smooth the mouthpiece. </p>
<p>The shape of the mouth across the pipe, the control of air through the mouth with the diaphragm, and the position of the tongue in the mouth, as well as the shape of the player’s voice box, all affect the sound from the instrument.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-the-remarkable-yidaki-and-no-its-not-a-didge-74169">Friday essay: the remarkable yidaki (and no, it's not a 'didge')</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Brewarrina fish traps</h2>
<p>The Brewarrina fish traps, called Biame Ngunnhu by the local Ngemba people, were created by Biaime in the Dreamtime – there is no oral record of other events that locate the period of construction. They are considered the oldest and longest-lasting dry wall construction on earth. </p>
<p>Dating of the traps would be hard, especially as many of the stones were recently moved to construct a stone weir across the river. Importantly, these fish traps provide an example of collaborative knowledge sharing and governance.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513588/original/file-20230306-28-3n7h97.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513588/original/file-20230306-28-3n7h97.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513588/original/file-20230306-28-3n7h97.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513588/original/file-20230306-28-3n7h97.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513588/original/file-20230306-28-3n7h97.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513588/original/file-20230306-28-3n7h97.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513588/original/file-20230306-28-3n7h97.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513588/original/file-20230306-28-3n7h97.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Fish traps on the Darling River at Brewarrina.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dean Lewins/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>When the fish were running in the Barwon River, a tributary of the Darling, the clans would gather from all around to talk about caring for Country. The fish traps are scattered across and down the river. When the water is high, the lower traps are inundated, but the upper traps are opened upstream and fish swim in with the water flow. They are closed and the fish remain in the traps until they are ready to be caught, usually by spear. When the water drops, the lower traps are then used.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/budj-bims-world-heritage-listing-is-an-australian-first-what-other-indigenous-cultural-sites-could-be-next-120097">Budj Bim's world heritage listing is an Australian first – what other Indigenous cultural sites could be next?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The Ngemba families each owned a trap, each feeding a specific language group when they came to the meetings. The time was spent understanding what was happening to Country around them – through sharing stories, and planning ceremonies, such as rain-making, as needed. This history of knowledge-sharing is now being continued by the Ngemba people with a project for online storytelling and data collection around service provision in their community.</p>
<p>The fish in the river include Australian grayling, river blackfish, short-finned eel, Australian smelt, climbing galaxias, common galaxias, congoli, flathead gudgeon, mountain galaxias, pouch lamprey, smallmouth hardyhead, trout galaxias and southern pigmy perch. However the main fish there now are introduced carp, and the high level of irrigation upstream means the river is often dry.</p>
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<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513591/original/file-20230306-28-jjlxae.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513591/original/file-20230306-28-jjlxae.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/513591/original/file-20230306-28-jjlxae.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=843&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513591/original/file-20230306-28-jjlxae.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=843&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513591/original/file-20230306-28-jjlxae.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=843&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513591/original/file-20230306-28-jjlxae.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1060&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513591/original/file-20230306-28-jjlxae.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1060&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/513591/original/file-20230306-28-jjlxae.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1060&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
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<p>There is great diversity of Aboriginal peoples across Australia. Aboriginal people have different languages and come from vastly different landscapes, each with their unique ecology. Yet technology is part of our everyday life: the houses we live in; the internet we learn with; the watercraft we use for fun or fishing. </p>
<p>Indigenous communities need students graduating with the skills to help maintain and build infrastructure or create software to support their enterprises and care for Country. In project management, the participatory democracy practised in Indigenous communities is a good example of flat management processes and a way to reinvigorate the Western approach to sustainability and democracy that is failing in our engineering projects – as much as in the political space.</p>
<p><em><a href="https://www.cambridgescholars.com/product/978-1-5275-8759-5">Indigenous Engineering for an Enduring Culture</a>, edited by Cat Kutay, Elyssebeth Leigh, Juliana Kaya Prpic and Lyndon Ormond-Parker is published by Cambridge Scholars Publishing.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/198987/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Cat Kutay does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
For many millennia, Indigenous Australians have engineered our landscape. From an ochre mine to fish traps, here are five remarkable examples of First Nations technical know-how.
Cat Kutay, Lecturer, Faculty of Science and Technology, Charles Darwin University, University of Technology Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/201782
2023-03-22T04:12:01Z
2023-03-22T04:12:01Z
‘Cultural expression through dress’: towards a definition of First Nations fashion
<p>This May, Wiradjuri woman Denni Francisco and her label Ngali will be the <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2023/mar/21/australian-fashion-week-2023-denni-francisco-to-be-first-indigenous-designer-to-hold-solo-show">first Indigenous designer</a> to have a solo show at Australian Fashion Week. </p>
<p>This is a long time coming for the First Nations fashion industry and the designers and artists who have laboured in the fashion space for many years.</p>
<p>In 2003, Dharug woman Robyn Caughlan was the <a href="https://www.smh.com.au/lifestyle/fashion/robyn-has-fashion-game-all-sewn-up-20030426-gdgnsm.html">first Indigenous designer</a> to show her ready-to-wear collection at Australian Fashion Week. Over the past 20 years, many Indigenous designers have shown their work in group shows. Francisco’s solo show is an important step forward for the industry.</p>
<p>But First Nations fashion is not just about the catwalk. It is a politically charged practice. We need to have a discussion on what we mean when we say “First Nations fashion”.</p>
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<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-indigenous-fashion-designers-are-taking-control-and-challenging-the-notion-of-the-heroic-lone-genius-121041">How Indigenous fashion designers are taking control and challenging the notion of the heroic, lone genius</a>
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<h2>What is ‘fashion’?</h2>
<p>During the European colonial reign from 1788 into the 1860s, Australian administrators were shocked at the appearance of Indigenous populations, often <a href="https://espace.library.uq.edu.au/data/UQ_121066/maynard_blankets.pdf?dsi_version=f1a1ebf590935fd50bfc2c57163abcff&Expires=1679467717&Key-Pair-Id=APKAJKNBJ4MJBJNC6NLQ&Signature=KsMMfEdTXMp2VlzeMt%7EZYgdxiVudEaDZbVvjNS8xdgK%7EJg4kePDuST82eTrVQeOIljYIGJ6FxiF4sa6J8Y89I9kJqTpLnidnTO2AJTomxsOeg%7EcpSNHWEqZN0xvpjFHcfyQt73CBkURfrxHajcdxXTCErdqs%7ExHdcK-nPLb68NC%7EHWAejnOVpPmZWv08k-JumxARkDh31tBjMKbYP4jabCFn0bxvT4t7i4897j0fUNu4LGmRYJZDard4gfWfakEhRhcAO1-A2%7EKNVYGJv6sYHBP05-VOrZUlo2aObFzBSHL4p0XIlkbaog2D0C3zWlXmUzfyqAcXMktlIxEO0IbtSw__">imposing new forms of clothing</a>. </p>
<p>To them, Indigenous peoples were generally seen as wearing insufficient, “unsophisticated” and “static” clothing. </p>
<p>From the 19th to early 20th century, sociologists argued only modern, urban societies <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/1362704X.2020.1732022">like France</a> had a <a href="https://www.britannica.com/topic/fashion-system">fashion “system”</a> of production, business and the trickle down of styles.</p>
<p>By the 1970s, UK and US researchers started to use the word <a href="http://arts.brighton.ac.uk/arts/alumni-and-associates/the-history-of-arts-education-in-brighton/fashion,-textiles-and-dress-history-a-personal-perspective-by-lou-taylor">“dress” instead of “fashion”</a> to connect wider forms of clothing, bodily and cultural practices.</p>
<p>“Fashion” has, however, been used as far back as the <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/110896107?">1970s</a> to describe Australia’s emerging First Nations textiles, garment and runway shows.</p>
<p>Recently, First Nations researchers in Canada and the United States <a href="https://youtu.be/KORH4l2-AO4">discussed</a> using “Indigenous fashion-art-and-dress” to describe First Nations clothing practices, fashion design and integration of art.</p>
<p>In Australia we have not yet had a conversation about a term that could encompass fashion design, textiles and art. Important First Nations fashion <a href="https://firstnationsfashiondesign.com/">associations</a>, <a href="https://www.ifp.org.au/">organisations</a>, <a href="https://www.mobinfashion.com.au/">groups</a>, and <a href="http://globalindigenousmanagement.com/indigenous-runway-project/">projects</a> have attempted their own terms and strategies.</p>
<p>We need a phrase which includes everything from wearing <a href="https://collection.maas.museum/object/363142">Aboriginal flag t-shirts</a> in the city, self-designed outfits in the <a href="https://www.tiktok.com/@abc/video/7200892542890577153">Tiwi Islands</a> and <a href="https://www.vogue.com.au/fashion/news/the-ngvs-first-indigenous-fashion-commission-is-an-ode-to-the-golden-age-of-couture/image-gallery/79e0b3a2bc42202ac407e99ef93574d1">commissioned garments</a> in galleries and museums. </p>
<p><iframe id="tc-infographic-828" class="tc-infographic" height="400px" src="https://cdn.theconversation.com/infographics/828/24ba342bc9440cb542892aef434942d5fdf0a74d/site/index.html" width="100%" style="border: none" frameborder="0"></iframe></p>
<p>Many First Nations designers are not designing for the fashion industry or galleries which sell their work as art. They are designing to break colonial bonds, share cultural stories, and provide a wearable form of wellbeing. </p>
<h2>A matter of style</h2>
<p>We have been exploring the words that Australian First Nations fashion researchers, designers, artists and producers use to describe their work and the industry.</p>
<p>The new millennium has motivated a great flowering of new First Nations designers and artists.</p>
<p>They describe themselves using words such as <a href="https://www.instagram.com/lillardiabriggshouston/?hl=en">fashion designer</a>, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/yarrabah/?hl=en">artist</a>, <a href="https://www.instagram.com/simone_arnol/?hl=en">curator</a> and their work as <a href="https://www.instagram.com/lyn_al/?hl=en">fashion and art</a> and <a href="https://www.instagram.com/_myrrdah_/?hl=en">fashion labels</a>. </p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/CeNfJ5vv8jA","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<p>They variously describe their work as being Aboriginal, Torres Strait Islander or First Nations owned, or specifically emphasise their cultural Nations and groups.</p>
<p>Artist <a href="https://eprints.qut.edu.au/108051/1/Elisa_Carmichael_Thesis.pdf">Elisa Jane Carmichael</a> (Quandamooka) calls <a href="https://koorihistory.com/traditional-aboriginal-clothing/">traditional and cultural clothing and adornment</a> “the first creations of Australian fashion”. </p>
<p>Writer Tristen Harwood (First Nations) has written about the difference between <a href="https://www.artlink.com.au/articles/4897/walkabout-style-dreams-and-visions-of-indigenous-f/">“style” and “fashion”</a>. He defines First Nations fashion as the marketing and buying of Indigenous designed fashions. By style, Harwood means the dynamic process of dressing that touches on identity, politics, self-creation and culture.</p>
<p>Style is about wearing attire, in all its complexity, and includes the long history from <a href="https://aiatsis.gov.au/explore/missions-stations-and-reserves">forced clothing</a> to the <a href="https://mpavilion.org/program/untold-possum-skin-cloaks-reawakening-and-revitalising/">revival of cultural garments</a> and looks. </p>
<p>This distinction between fashion and style also informs <a href="https://magpiegoose.com/">Magpie Goose</a> co-owner and director <a href="https://aiatsis.library.link/portal/A-brief-redress-of-Indigenous-fashion-in/6rejKvEbLx8/">Amanda Hayman</a> (Kalkadoon and Wakka Wakka). She notes how “Aboriginal cultural identity was systematically repressed” from the early 1800s to the late 1960s. With this repression, she argues, “cultural expression through dress was significantly impacted”.</p>
<p><div data-react-class="InstagramEmbed" data-react-props="{"url":"https://www.instagram.com/p/Cpo4bUyLsyH","accessToken":"127105130696839|b4b75090c9688d81dfd245afe6052f20"}"></div></p>
<p>Now, a new generation of fashion figures such as teacher and designer <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/1362704X.2020.1800991">Charlotte Bedford</a> (Wiradjuri), National Gallery of Victoria curator <a href="https://intellectdiscover.com/content/journals/10.1386/infs_00067_7">Shanae Hobson</a> (Kaantju) and @ausindigenousfashion founder and curator <a href="https://intellectdiscover.com/content/journals/10.1386/infs_00067_7">Yatu Widders Hunt</a> (Dunghutti and Anaiwan) prefer the terms “Indigenous fashion” or “First Nations fashion”.</p>
<h2>Moving forward</h2>
<p>While there is a <a href="https://indigenousx.com.au/appropriate-terminology-for-aboriginal-and-torres-strait-islander-people-its-complicated/">wide range of terminologies</a> and languages used within the First Nations fashion sector, it is time for a bigger discussion about a collective and holistic term. </p>
<p>By embracing a holistic term, First Nations fashion would have a new and inclusive definition. It could acknowledge both traditional and contemporary practices of our First Nations peoples, including the role of artists, and encompass everything from fashion runways to creating garments for galleries, as well as everyday First Nations style.</p>
<p>First Nations fashion is political. If you dig deep into fashion stories you will also hear many tales about racism, exclusion and discrimination, as well as <a href="https://oursonglines.com/blog/knowing-where-to-shop-for-survival-day">survival</a> and <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/ng-interactive/2020/nov/19/indigenous-fashion-is-the-future-its-time-for-first-nations-people-to-reclaim-it">healing</a>. </p>
<p>We are moving into a new chapter of <a href="https://www.firstpeoplesvic.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/tt-faqs.pdf">truth telling</a> and the sharing of how racism and discrimination have influenced First Nations clothing practices and the fashion industry.</p>
<p>In landing on a collective term we might better represent First Nations peoples’ fashion, art and style stories as well as their community, cultural and design contributions – the business of fashion in Australia itself.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/indigenous-fashion-week-toronto-designers-are-showcasing-resistance-and-resurgence-151016">Indigenous Fashion Week Toronto designers are showcasing resistance and resurgence</a>
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</em>
</p>
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<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/201782/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Treena Clark has received funding through the University of Technology Sydney Chancellor’s Postdoctoral Research Fellowship scheme.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Peter McNeil has received funding from Centre for Public History, University of Technology Sydney.</span></em></p>
Wiradjuri woman Denni Francisco will be the first Indigenous designer to have a solo show at Australian Fashion Week.
Treena Clark, Chancellor’s Postdoctoral Indigenous Research Fellow, Faculty of Design, Architecture and Building, University of Technology Sydney
Peter McNeil, Distinguished Professor of Design History, UTS, University of Technology Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/189109
2022-09-13T20:06:26Z
2022-09-13T20:06:26Z
To accurately portray histories, museums need to do more than ‘reimagine’ galleries
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481895/original/file-20220830-6748-fsx0ou.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=220%2C229%2C2364%2C1504&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Western museums need to meaningfully come to terms with their colonial past and present to fulfil their role as places of knowledge. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>There is a wave of change underway in North American museums. Museums and galleries are re-evaluating their own places and roles in colonial history and discourse. This change has resulted in galleries being <a href="https://royalbcmuseum.bc.ca/about/our-work/publications-news/latest-news/royal-bc-museum-announces-upcoming-changes-core">closed</a> or <a href="https://www.theglobeandmail.com/canada/alberta/article-at-calgarys-glenbow-museum-decolonization-is-at-the-top-of-the-agenda/">decolonized</a> across Canadian museums.</p>
<p>But are these moves enough to disassemble colonial ideologies and narratives that have underpinned museums for so long?</p>
<p>Museums have <a href="https://www.routledge.com/Museums-and-the-Shaping-of-Knowledge/Greenhill/p/book/9780415070317">historically been recognized as authorities of knowledge and truth</a>. They tell the <a href="https://www.routledge.com/National-Museums-New-Studies-from-Around-the-World/Knell-Aronsson-Amundsen/p/book/9780415547741">story of nations</a> and can influence and shape societies. </p>
<p>In the <a href="https://news.artnet.com/art-world/museums-diversity-equity-commitments-1901564">current politically charged environment, they are being challenged to reconstitute their roles</a> in a way that goes beyond neoliberal settler colonialism and represents the voices of the marginalized.</p>
<h2>Evolving museums</h2>
<p>Museums have always evolved to meet the needs and demands of changing societies.</p>
<p>After WWII, museums in the U.S. were <a href="https://www.smithsonianbooks.com/store/museum-studies/making-museums-matter/">concerned with recording and preserving history</a>. Into the 1980s, <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/20027573#metadata_info_tab_contents">museum practices were becoming more visitor-centred</a> and the neoliberal free-market made them <a href="https://doi.org/10.2307/778666">more corporate in nature</a>. At the turn of the century, with the intensification of globalization, the relationship between museums and corporations deepened.</p>
<p>Now, new campaigns are pushing museums in the West to come to terms with their colonial legacies and to return artifacts stolen by imperial powers to their country of origin.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481893/original/file-20220830-35941-wu06ev.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Totem poles lines a hallway inside a building." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481893/original/file-20220830-35941-wu06ev.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481893/original/file-20220830-35941-wu06ev.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481893/original/file-20220830-35941-wu06ev.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481893/original/file-20220830-35941-wu06ev.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481893/original/file-20220830-35941-wu06ev.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481893/original/file-20220830-35941-wu06ev.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481893/original/file-20220830-35941-wu06ev.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Totem poles at the Canadian Museum of History in Ottawa. Canadian museums have responded to calls for greater inclusion, but the measures taken have been paltry and more concessional than inclusive.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A rocky path to change</h2>
<p>Over the past few years the path towards change has been disappointing, rocky and systemically ineffectual.</p>
<p>In Canada, the push for the decolonization of museums has involved greater consultation with Indigenous and local communities to go beyond nationally constructed narratives. However, these measures have been paltry and more concessional than inclusive.</p>
<p>During the Canadian Museum of History’s renovation project in 2012, Indigenous Peoples were expressly consulted about the changes being made to the museum. The consultations, however, were <a href="http://wp.comminfo.rutgers.edu/maronczyk/wp-content/uploads/sites/178/2015/10/CJC-Branding-History-at-CMC.pdf">partial and served more as a way to legitimize decisions</a> that had already been made by museum officials and the Heritage Minister.</p>
<p>The Canadian Museum of Human Rights’ <a href="https://www.aptnnews.ca/national-news/national-museum-changes-stance-on-genocide-sides-with-inquiry-findings/">initial reluctance to acknowledge the treatment of Indigenous Peoples in Canada as genocide</a> is another case that demonstrated a lack of meaningful consultation with Indigenous communities. </p>
<p>What’s more, it revealed the settler colonial lens with which Indigenous history was viewed and presented in the museum. As a museum dedicated to human rights, the knee-jerk reaction of denying Indigenous perspectives in its presentation is especially telling. It demonstrates the simultaneous erasure of colonial histories and endurance of colonial perspectives in museums.</p>
<p>These cases reveal that lauded changes in museums are oftentimes more ceremonial than meaningful. They also remind us that institutional and systemic change is not easy to achieve.</p>
<p>In the context of repatriations, the return of artifacts has been small in scale, rife with political clashes and <a href="https://www.dw.com/en/cologne-museum-wants-to-return-cameroonian-artifacts/a-62433134">long and drawn out</a>. </p>
<p>France’s process of <a href="https://www.aljazeera.com/news/2021/11/9/france-hands-back-26-treasures-looted-from-benin">repatriating 26 artifacts to Benin</a>, initiated in 2017, is a prime example. The objects were returned to Benin in 2021 <a href="https://news.artnet.com/art-world/french-senate-restitution-bill-1932400">following much political handwringing</a>.</p>
<p>French president <a href="https://www.france24.com/en/video/20211027-replay-french-president-emmanuel-macron-s-speech-on-the-restitution-of-benin-artefacts">Emmanuel Macron’s speeches</a> consistently reminded everyone that France would not give up all stolen objects in its museums.</p>
<p>Repatriating the objects was further framed as <a href="https://observer.com/2020/11/france-return-looted-art-benin-senegal-bill/">a gesture of goodwill rather than an admission of wrongdoing</a>. </p>
<p>Much pomp and ceremony was made out of returning 26 artifacts. The returns garnered France global attention as a European nation committed to change. Meanwhile, <a href="http://restitutionreport2018.com/sarr_savoy_en.pdf">over 100,000 stolen objects from the sub-Saharan region</a> remain in France.</p>
<p>France has since not made any significant commitments to return additional artifacts. It further continues to identify stolen objects as French heritage under its <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/nov/03/france-museums-restitution-colonial-objects">principle of inalienability</a>. The principle states that objects in French museums are, and will remain, part of French national heritage forever. </p>
<p>Western museums <a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/major-european-institutions-will-loan-looted-artifacts-new-nigerian-museum-180970619/">offering to loan</a> countries their own objects, illustrate the continued colonial relations of power, paternalism and cultural appropriation surrounding repatriations.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481892/original/file-20220830-35846-5n7p7o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A child sits on a bench infront of a museum display that shows small bronze figures." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481892/original/file-20220830-35846-5n7p7o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/481892/original/file-20220830-35846-5n7p7o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481892/original/file-20220830-35846-5n7p7o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481892/original/file-20220830-35846-5n7p7o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481892/original/file-20220830-35846-5n7p7o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481892/original/file-20220830-35846-5n7p7o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/481892/original/file-20220830-35846-5n7p7o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Some of the Benin Bronzes seen on display at the British Museum in London. The Benin bronzes were stolen by European imperial powers from the kingdom of Benin, now in present-day Nigeria.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">(Shutterstock)</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Decolonizing museums</h2>
<p>Modern western museums’ intrinsic ties to colonialism raises the question of how they can be decolonized and reimagined as truth tellers with more inclusive and fluid narratives. While this is certainly not an easy question to answer, it is clear that decolonization is a continuous process that cannot be implemented by closing or “reimagining” a few galleries and exhibits.</p>
<p>Museums must be disentangled from national and corporate interests that guide narratives and reproduce dominant social norms. Structural transformation is needed which involves more <a href="https://canadianart.ca/features/a-crisis-of-whiteness/">diverse staff, especially in senior and executive positions</a>. </p>
<p>Greater and more genuine inclusion of Indigenous and marginal voices is needed. Inclusions that go beyond politically correct check marks and liberal premises of toleration. <a href="https://www.un.org/development/desa/indigenouspeoples/wp-content/uploads/sites/19/2018/11/UNDRIP_E_web.pdf">As the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples</a> outlines, that requires giving those represented in museums control of their own cultural heritage and authority over how it is presented and reproduced for the public.</p>
<p>It also means incorporating perspectives that challenge prevailing narratives. As historian <a href="https://uncpress.org/book/9780807837153/decolonizing-museums/">Amy Lonetree</a> notes, it requires hard truths to be told to nations that have silenced different versions of the past.</p>
<p>Greater community engagement and including diverse voices can also eliminate barriers and foster equitable access. <a href="https://www.routledge.com/The-Birth-of-the-Museum-History-Theory-Politics/Bennett/p/book/9780415053884">Museums have historically been designed for the elite class</a>. One continuing socioeconomic barrier is that they can be quite costly. A visit to a Canadian museum or gallery can cost anywhere between $15 to $30 per person. For many families those costs can be prohibitive. </p>
<p>Change must also mean making space available for everyone. </p>
<p>Whether this new push to undo colonial narratives will bring about significant change in museums remains to be seen. What is certain is that to be effective, this change must go beyond the concessional and rhetorical.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/189109/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Umbrin Bukan does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Western museums are beginning to re-evaluate how they portray cultures and history and return stolen artifacts. But for change to be meaningful, it needs to be truly inclusive.
Umbrin Bukan, PhD candidate in Social and Political Thought, York University, Canada
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/172302
2021-12-01T17:12:00Z
2021-12-01T17:12:00Z
We identified 39,000 Indigenous Australian objects in UK museums. Repatriation is one option, but takes time to get right
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/434364/original/file-20211129-13-nhpyf9.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Shield, collected by Admiral John Elphinstone Erskine, c.1851. National Museums Scotland. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo: National Museums Scotland, Edinburgh.</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Campaigns for the repatriation of certain objects in prominent museums dominate media reporting on the fraught legacies of historical collections. The Parthenon (Elgin) Marbles, Benin Bronzes, and the <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-01-25/gweagal-shield-and-captain-cook-origins-questions/12941610">“Gweagal” shield</a> are among the most conspicuous examples.</p>
<p>Regularly discussed in books, featured on podcasts like <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/stuff-the-british-stole/">Stuff the British Stole</a>, and cited by journalists and commentators, these high-profile, highly charged objects encapsulate many of the issues at stake in how museums should go about redressing the violent colonial histories that contributed to the creation of their collections and ongoing injustices.</p>
<p>In Australia, the federal government has funded the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies to pursue <a href="https://aiatsis.gov.au/about/what-we-do/return-cultural-heritage">the repatriation of collections in international museums</a></p>
<p>The program was funded initially as part of its commemoration of the 250th anniversary of the Endeavour voyage led by Lieutenant James Cook – an expedition that marks the beginning of a long history of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander material culture being taken from Country to Britain and Europe where it entered public and private institutions.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-failure-to-say-hello-how-captain-cook-blundered-his-first-impression-with-indigenous-people-126673">A failure to say hello: how Captain Cook blundered his first impression with Indigenous people</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>During the same period this program was identifying collections for repatriation, we were researching Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander material culture in UK and Irish museums. For three years, we carried out a survey, led by Gaye Sculthorpe, Curator and Section Head, Oceania at The British Museum, and assisted by Indigenous research fellows<a href="https://researchers.anu.edu.au/researchers/andrews-j"> Dr Jilda Andrews</a> and <a href="https://social-science.uq.edu.au/profile/102/michael-aird">Michael Aird</a> to answer the question: “What Indigenous Australian material culture actually exists in museums in the UK and Ireland now?” </p>
<p>Much of the discussion about the future of collections proceeds without a clear sense of what has survived – and misunderstandings about what does. Between 2016 and 2019, Sculthorpe visited over 45 museums in the UK to look at their collections. Indigenous Australian objects identified number about 38,400 in institutions across the UK and about 600 in Ireland. The total number includes around 16,000 stone tools from Tasmania. </p>
<p>The material includes bags and baskets, wooden artefacts like clubs, boomerangs and shields, shell items such as fishing hooks and decorative shellwork, as well as contemporary art.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/435179/original/file-20211201-21-vda48q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/435179/original/file-20211201-21-vda48q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/435179/original/file-20211201-21-vda48q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=770&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/435179/original/file-20211201-21-vda48q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=770&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/435179/original/file-20211201-21-vda48q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=770&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/435179/original/file-20211201-21-vda48q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=967&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/435179/original/file-20211201-21-vda48q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=967&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/435179/original/file-20211201-21-vda48q.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=967&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Map showing British and Irish museums which hold collections of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander objects. Reproduced in Sculthorpe et al, Ancestors, artefacts, empire: Indigenous Australia in British and Irish museums, British Museum Press, 2021.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">C. British Museum Press</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>There is a mammoth task to rebuild knowledge about these objects and collections widely distributed in the UK and Ireland. Over time, knowledge has dissipated, and documentation and information lost. In many cases historical and contextual details for objects are scant, unreliable, illegible, or replete with misnomers, if not missing altogether. </p>
<h2>Deserving serious attention</h2>
<p>Today’s bland and stubborn characterisations of museums as nothing other than engines of colonial theft, trickery and violence, as well as irredeemable essences of empire, are often easily unsettled and complicated by close and critical examinations of the objects they hold.</p>
<p>Contemporary critiques tend to focus on 19th-century attitudes, shaped at a time when museums imagined they were collecting from cultures and peoples facing extinction. Even then, however, interactions between cultures were transforming objects, object-making and other art practices.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-5-museum-objects-that-tell-a-story-of-colonialism-and-its-legacy-150642">Friday essay: 5 museum objects that tell a story of colonialism and its legacy</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Some Indigenous people collaborated with anthropologists in gift exchanges and in making collections of material culture, both to provide a resource for future generations to access and as an assertion of the value of their ways of life. </p>
<p>Three boomerangs in Paisley Museum, near Glasgow in Scotland, were made by Kirwallie Sandy, one of the best known Aboriginal men in the Moreton Bay region. He sold them for a shilling each on 15 December 1875 at Sandgate near Brisbane to traveller and naturalist James W. Craig. </p>
<p>Craig documented these details in his journal, although this information was not included in the museum records or exhibition labels. Michael Aird, with his deep knowledge of Brisbane’s Aboriginal people and history, has reconstructed the boomerangs’ story with Kirwallie Sandy at the centre. </p>
<p>Trade, purchase, exchange, gifting, commissions and agency – as well as theft, exploitation, violence and trauma – were all in evidence for the objects we researched, and sometimes in respect to the same one. </p>
<h2>Partnerships</h2>
<p>Working in partnership with Indigenous people and organisations to better understand the multiple meanings of surviving material culture is the foundation on which the future development and building of collections is taking place. </p>
<p>Some of the least documented objects are potentially of the most interest to contemporary people. For instance, a single, shell-worked bootie of the kind long made in Aboriginal settlements on the New South Wales south coast and at La Perouse in Sydney was identified by Sculthorpe in a box of undocumented, unidentified objects handed to her by a curator at Warrington Museum & Art Gallery near Liverpool in England. </p>
<p>This baby shoe was one of the first pieces of shell work identified in collections outside Australia. It was likely bought at auction after being exhibited – perhaps in a missionary exhibition or a display of women’s work. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/434302/original/file-20211129-17-mw4sap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/434302/original/file-20211129-17-mw4sap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/434302/original/file-20211129-17-mw4sap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=428&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434302/original/file-20211129-17-mw4sap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=428&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434302/original/file-20211129-17-mw4sap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=428&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434302/original/file-20211129-17-mw4sap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=538&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434302/original/file-20211129-17-mw4sap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=538&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434302/original/file-20211129-17-mw4sap.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=538&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Shellwork baby shoe, c,1920, likely from La Perouse, Sydney. Warrington Museum & Art Gallery.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo: The Trustees of the British Museum & Culture Warrington.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A shield at National Museums Scotland in Edinburgh was labelled only as “Australia”, but its form and the travels of its collector, Admiral John Elphinstone Erksine, in the mid-1800s suggest a NSW, possibly greater Sydney, origin.</p>
<p>The shield, remarkable for its intricate designs, has not (yet) garnered the attention it warrants. </p>
<p>If scholarship on Britain’s colonisation of Australia from the late 18th century onwards has produced anything it is an insistence on the plurality of encounters, experiences, and legacies. </p>
<p>This is due not only to the diversity of imperial travellers and colonial immigrants. There is growing recognition that Indigenous groups were diverse and distinct, sometimes <a href="https://www.arts.gov.au/pm-literary-awards/current-awards/meeting-waylo-aboriginal-encounters-archipelago">as different from each other as they were to outsiders</a>. The surviving material record is a testament to this; and its significance for expanding understanding and challenging conventional thought cannot be overestimated. </p>
<p>What emerged as we shared information about objects and collections with – and learnt from Indigenous people and “communities” in turn – was that repatriation was only one of several options they were interested in pursuing. </p>
<p>And this is only when there is certainty about details regarding where objects came from, the conditions under which they had been acquired, the pathways by which they travelled, and the conditions under which and into which they would return.</p>
<p>Recent experience of the repercussions of misinformation, leading to senior people being excluded from discussions, as Noeleen Timbery from the La Perouse Local Aboriginal Land Council in Sydney <a href="https://www.gujaga.org.au/stories">has explained</a>, makes some groups cautious about how to proceed. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/434297/original/file-20211129-27-1h7prac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/434297/original/file-20211129-27-1h7prac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/434297/original/file-20211129-27-1h7prac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=752&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434297/original/file-20211129-27-1h7prac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=752&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434297/original/file-20211129-27-1h7prac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=752&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434297/original/file-20211129-27-1h7prac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=945&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434297/original/file-20211129-27-1h7prac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=945&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/434297/original/file-20211129-27-1h7prac.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=945&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The La Perouse Aboriginal Land Council and other local groups are interested in working with overseas museums to ensure access to collections for educational and other purposes.</p>
<p>A new collaborative Australian Research Council-funded project with the Australian National University, the Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology, Cambridge, and The British Museum is working with them towards this aim. </p>
<p>It is vital to get things right. And getting things right takes time and resources. A concern for care, diligence, caution and time to work through the emotions that collections provoke – as well as to take charge of the decision-making about what should happen – are at the forefront of people’s minds when they learn of the objects in international museums their ancestors made. </p>
<p><em>This book <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/57699445-ancestors-artefacts-empire">Ancestors, artefacts, empire: Indigenous Australia in British and Irish Museums</a>, edited by Gaye Sculthorpe, Maria Nugent and Howard Morphy (British Museum Press) will be launched at the National Museum of Australia in Canberra on December 2.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/172302/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Maria Nugent receives funding from the Australian Research Council through a Linkage Grant involving the Australian National University and The British Museum, which published the book 'Ancestors, artefacts, empire: Indigenous Australia in British and Irish Museums' from which this article derives.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Gaye Sculthorpe receives funding from the Australian Research Council through a Linkage Grant involving the Australian National University and The British Museum, which published the book 'Ancestors, artefacts, empire: Indigenous Australia in British and Irish Museums' from which this article derives.
</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Howard Morphy received funding from the Australian Research Council through a Linkage Grant involving the Australian National University, the National Museum of Australia, the Museum of the Riverina and The British Museum. The British Museum are the publishers of the book 'Ancestors, artefacts, empire: Indigenous Australia in British and Irish Museums' from which this article derives.</span></em></p>
Stone tools, clubs, boomerangs, decorative shellwork: a survey of 45 museums in the UK has found a vast number of Indigenous Australian objects. Not all were stolen; some were gifted or traded.
Maria Nugent, Co-Director, Australian Centre for Indigenous History, Australian National University
Gaye Sculthorpe, Curator & Section Head, Oceania, The British Museum
Howard Morphy, Head of Centre for Digital Humanities Research , Australian National University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/169934
2021-10-28T19:12:28Z
2021-10-28T19:12:28Z
Friday essay: creation, destruction and appropriation – the powerful symbolism of the Rainbow Serpent
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/429206/original/file-20211028-14-by07sm.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C117%2C4057%2C2595&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A mural of the Rainbow Serpent in the NSW town of Bourke, pictured in 2015.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Mick Tsikas/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Prior to colonisation there were approximately 250 different Aboriginal languages spoken by some 500 clans throughout Australia. Each clan possessed numerous Dreaming stories, depicting how the land was traversed and marked by the Ancestral Beings, who created land-forms, people, animals, plants and celestial stars.</p>
<p>Their experiences, and often the consequences of their actions, formed the basis for Aboriginal kinship systems, laws, ways of caring for Country and connecting to land. </p>
<p>These ancestors are not relegated to the past, for their presence is still felt at sacred sites, and they are still responsible for providing the resources that sustain the clan. Some Aboriginal people maintain their connection to these powerful beings by continuing to perform the songs and dances they gave them, and marking their bodies and objects with their sacred designs. </p>
<p>Thus Aboriginal cultures are necessarily rich with symbolism. Towards the end of the 20th century, Aboriginal culture was increasingly being called upon to provide a symbol of nation – representing Australia as a whole – by groups of non-Indigenous Australians who believed it offered a depth and richness of symbolic meaning that more conventional symbols had lost (or perhaps had never had).</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428708/original/file-20211027-21-6lmj3x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428708/original/file-20211027-21-6lmj3x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428708/original/file-20211027-21-6lmj3x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=455&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428708/original/file-20211027-21-6lmj3x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=455&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428708/original/file-20211027-21-6lmj3x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=455&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428708/original/file-20211027-21-6lmj3x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428708/original/file-20211027-21-6lmj3x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428708/original/file-20211027-21-6lmj3x.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=572&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Rainbow Serpent mural created by teacher Jenny Noble and the children of Rosebank School, New South Wales, 2000.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rosebank Public School</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The most widely known Ancestral Being is the Rainbow Serpent, or Rainbow Snake, the English names for the figure that appears in the Dreamings of many different Aboriginal language groups across the continent.</p>
<p>It features as an important creator figure, guardian of sacred places, bringer of monsoonal rains and storms, bestower of powers upon healers and rainmakers, or a dangerous creature that punishes people who violate laws, or dwells in waterholes threatening to swallow unwary passers-by, to name just a few incarnations. </p>
<p>It is also strongly connected with fertility, both human and ecological. In all
of its guises and geographies the Rainbow Serpent is associated with
water, an essential resource, and the rainbow, whose shimmering light
and curved form reflects the scales and body of the snake. The rainbow
is also an important bridge between the water and the sky, the sky yet
another resting place for the Rainbow Serpent.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428697/original/file-20211027-13-1c43fdf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428697/original/file-20211027-13-1c43fdf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428697/original/file-20211027-13-1c43fdf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=415&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428697/original/file-20211027-13-1c43fdf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=415&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428697/original/file-20211027-13-1c43fdf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=415&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428697/original/file-20211027-13-1c43fdf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=521&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428697/original/file-20211027-13-1c43fdf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=521&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428697/original/file-20211027-13-1c43fdf.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=521&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Rainbow Serpent is associated with water and the rainbow.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">shutterstock</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Just one of the many Rainbow Serpents who travelled the land
is Yingarna, whose story is told by Kunwinjku-speaking people from
western Arnhem Land. In one of many stories she was said to be the first Rainbow Serpent, and all of creation burst from her body. The Kunwinjku also possess Dreaming stories about Yingarna’s child, Ngalyod, <a href="https://catalogue.nla.gov.au/Record/1552534?from=list">who is associated with</a> the “potentially destructive power of the storms and the plenty of the wet seasons”.</p>
<p>The immense power that Yingarna and Ngalyod have is both creative and destructive: these Rainbow Serpents are not simply benevolent symbols of unity, but can also be threatening, so their resting places should be avoided. This menacing aspect has been symbolised in <a href="https://www.nma.gov.au/exhibitions/old-masters/artists/dick-nguleingulei-murrumurru">Dick Nguleingulei Murrumurru’s painting from the National Museum of Australia’s</a> collection, which depicts Yingarna with
terrible crocodile’s teeth and tail, and a round, emu-like body capable of holding all she has swallowed.</p>
<p>The idea of the Rainbow Serpent as a composite of many other animals and even plants appeared elsewhere; western Arnhem Land rock paintings portray Rainbow Serpents with the head of a kangaroo, body of a snake, tail of a barramundi, and yam-shaped protrusions from the body. The oldest of these rock paintings have been dated to 6000 years, supporting the argument that Rainbow Serpent stories are among the world’s oldest continuous religious traditions.</p>
<p>This makes it especially useful as a national symbol, claiming
for modern Australia both universality and longevity.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/dreamtime-and-the-dreaming-who-dreamed-up-these-terms-20835">'Dreamtime' and 'The Dreaming': who dreamed up these terms?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>For Aboriginal people the Rainbow Serpent is not relegated to the past and time of creation, but remains an awesome source of power that shapes the contemporary world. When Cyclone Tracy devastated the city of Darwin in 1974, local Aboriginal people interpreted it as a “warning to stop neglecting their traditional law and associated rituals”, and succumbing to the temptations of “lawless” city
life.</p>
<h2>Attaching meaning</h2>
<p>Non-Indigenous Australians have known stories about other Rainbow
Serpents since colonial times. Francis Armstrong, the first government
interpreter of the Swan River Colony (now Perth), recorded an account
of the Waugal (also spelled Wagyl), a Noongar Rainbow Serpent, in 1836,
seven years after the establishment of the settlement. He observed that
there were </p>
<blockquote>
<p>certain large round stones, in different parts of the Colony,
which they [Noongar people] believe to be the eggs laid by the waugal … On passing such stones, they are in the habit of making a bed for it, of
the rushes of the blackboy [balga, grass tree or Xanthorrhoea preissii].</p>
</blockquote>
<p>This was because, <a href="https://library.museum.wa.gov.au/fullRecord.jsp?recno=16654">according to</a> Noongar elder Clarrie Isaacs, the Waugal
had created the Swan River and all its associated waterholes, and “has the
power of life and death over Aborigines and demands the respect due to
it”. </p>
<p>However, despite noticing the reverence that the Noongar paid these
stones, the settlers still removed them from their place, indicating that
they accorded them no significance. </p>
<p>This instance suggests the difficulty
of translating the symbolic significance of an object and story across
cultures, especially when there is such disparity in power relations. But
in addition it reveals the way the very land contained symbolic meaning
for Indigenous people, whereas for the increasingly utilitarian colonisers
the land was reduced to little more than an economic resource.</p>
<p>The Rainbow Serpent, then, means different things for Indigenous
and non-Indigenous Australians. Armstrong’s example demonstrates
that in the early period it was considered a mere curiosity and
disregarded, for the colonists were busy transforming and re-purposing
the land. </p>
<p>Conflicting attitudes about the Waugal arose again in the 1980s when the state government wanted to redevelop the site of the Old Swan Brewery, also known as Goonininup, a resting place of the Rainbow Serpent.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428701/original/file-20211027-17-1fsl0su.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428701/original/file-20211027-17-1fsl0su.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428701/original/file-20211027-17-1fsl0su.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428701/original/file-20211027-17-1fsl0su.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428701/original/file-20211027-17-1fsl0su.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428701/original/file-20211027-17-1fsl0su.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428701/original/file-20211027-17-1fsl0su.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428701/original/file-20211027-17-1fsl0su.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Perth’s Old Swan Brewery is a resting place of the Rainbow Serpent.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Harry and Rowena Kennedy/flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc/4.0/">CC BY-NC</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Again, a century and a half later, few non-Indigenous Western Australians sympathised with Noongar protests, and received the idea of the Waugal with great scepticism. Isaacs attempted to find equivalences in European systems of belief:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>They say because when they drive past the site that because they
cannot see some sort of ridiculous fire breathing dragon-like creature
poking its Loch Ness Monster-like head from the waters that it does
not exist. It is as ridiculous as myself making an assertion that God
is actually a large white man sitting on a throne atop some puffy
clouds.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>But the developers ignored inconvenient arguments about religious
symbolism, preferring a more self-interestedly rational interpretation
which, according to cultural studies scholar <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/303400">John Fielder</a>, demonstrates the imperial nature
of Western rationality, where our logic renders all other logics as
essentially illogical, irrational – not to be thought of as logic at all.</p>
<p>The Noongar saw the Waugal as a “spiritual being”, while their opponents
saw the Waugal as “some wildly primitive superstition” and the Noongar
themselves as troublemakers.</p>
<h2>‘Domesticated’</h2>
<p>However, non-Indigenous Australians have attached a range of
other meanings to the Rainbow Serpent, for the most part far from
hostile. This is partly due to the influence of anthropologists who, in the
early 20th century, became interested in what they called “myth”.</p>
<p>Anthropologist AR Radcliffe-Brown <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/abs/10.1002/j.1834-4461.1930.tb01653.x">compiled a survey</a> of stories from different Aboriginal language groups across Australia, and concluded
that the Rainbow Serpent occupied “the position of a deity”. Despite
noticing many differences in these stories, Radcliffe-Brown assumed that there was just a single Rainbow Serpent, and that it was akin to a god, “the most important nature-deity”. It was a view that greatly influenced non-Indigenous Australian understandings.</p>
<p>Taken out of the particular contexts of each language group’s
Dreamings, the Rainbow Serpent has been stripped of its numerous
ambivalent symbolisms and iconographic forms, and frequently
reduced to a singular entity – a benevolent mother/creator-figure in
the form of a brightly coloured snake. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/indigenous-cultural-appropriation-what-not-to-do-86679">Indigenous cultural appropriation: what not to do</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Perhaps this is in part due to the snake’s particular morphology; it is easy to imagine its enormous sinuous body carving out the rivers and creeks in the ancient “Dreamtime” (as it used to be described), whereas the meaning of the multiple symbolisms and composite form of Yingarna, Ngalyod and other Rainbow Serpents discussed by Aboriginal clans eludes outsiders.</p>
<p>It could be argued that this new rendering as a benevolent snake is a process of intellectual colonisation, for the settlers have domesticated the Rainbow Serpent, making it comprehensible and palatable to Western ideas. It was a case of non-Indigenous Australia connecting to Aboriginality only on a <a href="https://catalogue.nla.gov.au/Record/256823">disembodied and superficial aesthetic level</a> rather than at a level of deep understanding.</p>
<p>In the 1970s, celebrated Australian artist Sidney Nolan painted two large
murals depicting Rainbow Serpents. Snake, a 45-metre long mosaic was said to be Nolan’s “homage to Australia’s Aborigines”. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428673/original/file-20211027-15-mp6pwq.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428673/original/file-20211027-15-mp6pwq.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428673/original/file-20211027-15-mp6pwq.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428673/original/file-20211027-15-mp6pwq.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428673/original/file-20211027-15-mp6pwq.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=338&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428673/original/file-20211027-15-mp6pwq.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428673/original/file-20211027-15-mp6pwq.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428673/original/file-20211027-15-mp6pwq.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=424&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Snake by Australian artist Sidney Nolan, at the Museum of Old and New Art, in Hobart, Tasmania.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The second work, Little Snake was inspired by the sight of the Central Australian desert blooming after years of drought. Nolan used the Rainbow Serpent to represent “the magical power of water that brings
life from a state of stasis”. </p>
<p>It is this “domesticated” image of the giant brightly coloured snake with which Australians are probably most familiar, and which would prove most suitable for representing the Australian nation as a whole.</p>
<h2>A commonplace symbol</h2>
<p>Since then, images of Rainbow Serpents have slithered across school walls and community murals in suburbs and towns throughout the nation, at least those with large Indigenous or left-leaning populations.</p>
<p>The education system has taken the Rainbow Serpent to its widest audience. For many young Australians the Rainbow Serpent has been packaged as an Indigenous fairytale. From the 1970s, Australian children have read <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1098987.Land_of_the_Rainbow_Snake">illustrated books</a> depicting the life and adventures of the Rainbow Serpent. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428672/original/file-20211027-13-1seu1rf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428672/original/file-20211027-13-1seu1rf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428672/original/file-20211027-13-1seu1rf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428672/original/file-20211027-13-1seu1rf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428672/original/file-20211027-13-1seu1rf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=600&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428672/original/file-20211027-13-1seu1rf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428672/original/file-20211027-13-1seu1rf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428672/original/file-20211027-13-1seu1rf.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=754&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Rainbow Serpent features in many children’s books.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">goodreads</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>By the 1990s, children could paint their own Rainbow Serpent designs during NAIDOC Week, Harmony Day, or other events celebrating Australia’s multiculturalism. For adult Australians, the Rainbow Serpent has a number of other connotations. Tourists have been able to buy prints, T-shirts, books and jewellery or even underpants decorated with the great snake’s sinuous form, as an exotic souvenir of Australia. </p>
<p>Walkers and leisure-seekers can photograph, sit on or picnic by large public sculptures of the snake in public spaces, where it was intended to acknowledge and commemorate Aboriginal people. And since 1997 New Agers, ravers and ecotourists can come from “across the globe to dance a common dream” at the annual <a href="https://rainbowserpent.net/about/">Rainbow Serpent Festival</a> in Lexton, central Victoria, to camp and dance, but also learn from local Dja Dja Wurrung and Wadawurrung peoples and other Indigenous people from the Pacific and north America.</p>
<p>The New Age market has been one of the most avid consumers of the Rainbow
Serpent symbol, reading in it positive messages about the earth and
people’s spiritual relationship with it. Anthropologist Sallie Anderson has noticed that:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>The authors of many New Age books on Aboriginal culture and spirituality pick and choose characteristics from ethnographic descriptions of various rainbow serpent myths that seemingly support their comparisons with the Kundalini, electromagnetism, Vishnu, fertility and death, vibration and energy sources and various other themes.</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428674/original/file-20211027-21-10knm3e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428674/original/file-20211027-21-10knm3e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428674/original/file-20211027-21-10knm3e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428674/original/file-20211027-21-10knm3e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428674/original/file-20211027-21-10knm3e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428674/original/file-20211027-21-10knm3e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428674/original/file-20211027-21-10knm3e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428674/original/file-20211027-21-10knm3e.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Rainbow Serpent Festival, 2019.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Raimbow Tomcat, Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The Rainbow Serpent’s winding form and brilliant colours have become a commonplace symbol within Australian pedagogical, cultural, economic and built environments. </p>
<p>This widespread familiarity with the image, and the apparent tangibility of the concept in its domesticated and aestheticised form, has led to it being understood as a preeminent symbol of Aboriginal identity, especially apparent in public
events celebrating the centenary of Federation.</p>
<p>The turn of the century saw a groundswell of interest in Aboriginal
people and their place in Australia. The first year of the new millennium
was supposed to mark the end of the ten-year journey towards
reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australia.</p>
<p>In June 2000, hundreds of thousands had participated in the Walk for Reconciliation
and in September Australians cheered for Indigenous athlete Cathy
Freeman at the Sydney Olympics. These milestones meant that a feelgood emblem of the newly reconciled nation was needed for 2001, when Australia’s national identity was celebrated in the centenary of Federation. The Rainbow Serpent was called into service.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428677/original/file-20211027-17-zfx03p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=11%2C50%2C1985%2C1290&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428677/original/file-20211027-17-zfx03p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=11%2C50%2C1985%2C1290&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428677/original/file-20211027-17-zfx03p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428677/original/file-20211027-17-zfx03p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428677/original/file-20211027-17-zfx03p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=403&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428677/original/file-20211027-17-zfx03p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428677/original/file-20211027-17-zfx03p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428677/original/file-20211027-17-zfx03p.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=506&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Fireworks at the Sydney Opera House in 2001: the two symbols on the bridge are the Rainbow Serpent and the Star of Federation.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Russell McPhedran/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>On 1 January 2001 the Journey of a Nation – Centenary of Federation parade through the streets of Sydney included a float shaped like a huge coiled snake, with dancers wearing costumes decorated with Rainbow Serpents designed by Bundjalung artist Bronwyn Bancroft.</p>
<p>Then, at Canberra’s 2001 Floriade festival, the Rainbow Serpent again
appeared, this time in the “Century in bloom” display. On this
“floral walk through the decades”, viewers passed through plantings of
humble vegetables representing the hardships of the Depression and
beds of flowers planted in the shapes of the German Iron Cross and
the Japanese Rising Sun, indicating World War II. </p>
<p>The 1970s were represented by a display of tulips and native flora planted in the design of the Rainbow Serpent, ostensibly symbolising “Australia’s Aboriginal
heritage”. These examples suggest that the Rainbow Serpent was used
by the event organisers as a metonym for Aboriginality, so audiences
could embrace Aboriginal peoples’ place within Australia’s national
identity.</p>
<p>However, the Rainbow Serpent was also used to symbolise Australia as a whole, and not just its Indigenous peoples. In Sydney’s annual New Year’s Eve fireworks display, the grand finale is always the lighting of the mystery symbol that adorns the eastern side of the city’s beloved Harbour Bridge. In 2001 that symbol was the Rainbow Serpent, depicted alongside the Federation Star. The maxim of that
year’s show was “100 years as a nation, thousands of years as a land”.</p>
<p>Thus the Rainbow Serpent was used to give modern Australia an
ancient past, and, in conjunction with the star, was appropriated to
represent Australia. </p>
<p>The use of the Rainbow Serpent was no doubt well intentioned, but this plainly benevolent and amorphous meaning was far removed from that connoted by the original, highly ambivalent Rainbow Serpents of the Dreaming.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428676/original/file-20211027-23-6w28uw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428676/original/file-20211027-23-6w28uw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/428676/original/file-20211027-23-6w28uw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428676/original/file-20211027-23-6w28uw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428676/original/file-20211027-23-6w28uw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428676/original/file-20211027-23-6w28uw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428676/original/file-20211027-23-6w28uw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/428676/original/file-20211027-23-6w28uw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A Rainbow Serpent mural in Sydney.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Newtown graffiti/Flickr</span>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Aboriginal people have also adopted new symbolic meanings for the Rainbow Serpents. Due to the history of colonisation and the emergence of Indigenous political organisations and media, Aboriginal societies have become more mixed and cosmopolitan, and a pan-Aboriginal identity has emerged. </p>
<p>Instead of identifying solely with one’s clan or language group, Aboriginal people have formed a community that encompasses the entire continent. As such, they have needed to develop their own symbols to represent this new pan-identity, and the ubiquity of the Rainbow Serpent in both Indigenous and non-Indigenous societies makes it well placed to <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/j.1834-4461.1990.tb01559.x">act as</a> “a symbol of unity … amongst urban Aborigines”.</p>
<p>The image of the Rainbow Serpent has been used in a number of ways. The Rainbow Serpent has provided a logo for Aboriginal corporations such as the Northern Land Council. Victoria’s Rumbalara Oral Health Centre depicted the Rainbow Serpent as dental floss, “twisting through
an orange tangled web, which represents plaque on teeth”. </p>
<p>For the Aboriginal community of Moree, it was a symbol of unity when they constructed a 17-metre long Rainbow Serpent for the Black + White + Pink Reconciliation Float, entered in the 1999 Mardi Gras parade.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/427714/original/file-20211021-27-1xp2r66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/427714/original/file-20211021-27-1xp2r66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/427714/original/file-20211021-27-1xp2r66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/427714/original/file-20211021-27-1xp2r66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/427714/original/file-20211021-27-1xp2r66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/427714/original/file-20211021-27-1xp2r66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=549&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/427714/original/file-20211021-27-1xp2r66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=549&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/427714/original/file-20211021-27-1xp2r66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=549&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Chinese Vice President Xi Jinping (left) is presented with a bark painting of the Rainbow Serpent by Gagadju Aboriginal elder Alfred Nayinggul (centre) and Michael Bangalang (2nd right) during a visit to Kakadu National Park in 2010.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">David Hancock/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Inscribing new meaning</h2>
<p>The Rainbow Serpent has been an important symbol in Aboriginal societies for thousands of years, and by the start of the 21st century it was also a recognised symbol for the wider Australian society. In making that transition it lost its particular “traditional” meanings of creation, water and fertility, and its ambiguous combination of creative and destructive forces. </p>
<p>Although it has not featured much on the national stage as a symbol since the Federation centenary in 2001, it remains a potent symbol of local Aboriginal community spirit and reconciliation. For example, Bundjalung artist John Robinson’s
Rainbow Serpent artwork was installed at a shopping centre in East Maitland, New South Wales to celebrate 2018’s Reconciliation Week.</p>
<p>In 2019 a Rainbow Serpent water feature designed by a collective of Kamilaroi women artists was commissioned for the Gunnedah Civic Centre, and the Perth Royal Show showcased a public performance by Noongar elder <a href="https://www.maitlandmercury.com.au/story/5441314/aboriginal-art-to-be-installed-at-green-hills/">Walter McGuire</a>, featuring a “35m long Wagyl inflatable creation … illuminated by the colours of the rainbow”.</p>
<p>It is evident then, that the supple skin of the Rainbow Serpent continues to provide an ideal canvas for inscribing new meanings and symbolisms for both
Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians.</p>
<p><em>This is an edited extract from <a href="https://www.booktopia.com.au/symbols-of-australia-melissa-harper/book/9781742237121.html">Symbols of Australia: Imagining a Nation</a>, edited by Melissa Harper and Richard White, published by NewSouth Books. Footnotes for this article can be found in the book.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/169934/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Shino Konishi receives funding from the Australian Research Council.</span></em></p>
The Rainbow Serpent features in murals across the nation and as an Indigenous fairytale in books. But such images are often far removed from this Ancestral Being’s traditional ambivalent meanings.
Shino Konishi, Associate professor, Australian Catholic University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/164952
2021-08-13T22:21:30Z
2021-08-13T22:21:30Z
Light and shade: how the natural ‘glazes’ on the walls of Kimberley rock shelters help reveal the world the artists lived in
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/415981/original/file-20210813-21-28293z.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=15%2C155%2C5160%2C3003&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption"></span> <span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Kimberley region is host to <a href="https://theconversation.com/this-17-500-year-old-kangaroo-in-the-kimberley-is-australias-oldest-aboriginal-rock-painting-154181">Australia’s oldest known rock paintings</a>. But people were carving engravings into some of these rocks before they were creating paintings. </p>
<p>Rock art sites on Balanggarra Country in the northeast Kimberley region are home to numerous such engravings. The oldest paintings are at least 17,300 years old, and the engravings are thought to be even older — but they have so far proved much harder to date accurately.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414463/original/file-20210804-20-17dho34.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414463/original/file-20210804-20-17dho34.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414463/original/file-20210804-20-17dho34.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414463/original/file-20210804-20-17dho34.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=401&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414463/original/file-20210804-20-17dho34.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414463/original/file-20210804-20-17dho34.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414463/original/file-20210804-20-17dho34.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Cupules, or circular man-made hollows, ground into a dark mineral coating at a rock art site on the Drysdale River, Balanggarra country.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo by Damien Finch</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But in research <a href="https://advances.sciencemag.org/lookup/doi/10.1126/sciadv.abf3632">published today in Science Advances</a>, we report on a crucial clue that could help date the engravings, and also reveal what the environment was like for the artists who created them. </p>
<p>Some of the rocks themselves are covered with natural, glaze-like mineral coatings that can help reveal key evidence. </p>
<h2>What are these glazes?</h2>
<p>These dark, shiny deposits on the surface of the rock are less than a centimetre thick. Yet they have detailed internal structures, featuring alternating light and dark layers of different minerals.</p>
<p>Our aim was to develop methods to reliably date the formation of these coatings and provide age brackets for any associated engravings. However, during this process, we also discovered it is possible to match layers found in samples collected at rock shelters up to 90 kilometres apart. </p>
<p>Radiocarbon dating suggests these layers were deposited around the same time, showing their formation is not specific to particular rock shelters, but controlled by environmental changes on a regional scale. </p>
<p>Dating these deposits can therefore provide reliable age brackets for any associated engravings, while also helping us better understanding the climate and environments in which the artists lived.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414914/original/file-20210805-27-fl3od0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414914/original/file-20210805-27-fl3od0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414914/original/file-20210805-27-fl3od0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414914/original/file-20210805-27-fl3od0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414914/original/file-20210805-27-fl3od0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=425&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414914/original/file-20210805-27-fl3od0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414914/original/file-20210805-27-fl3od0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414914/original/file-20210805-27-fl3od0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=534&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Marsupial tracks scratched into a glaze like coating at a rock art shelter in the north east Kimberley.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo by Cecilia Myers/Dunkeld Pastoral Company; illustration by Pauline Heaney/Rock Art Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Microbes and minerals</h2>
<p>Our research supports <a href="https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/gea.1021">earlier findings</a> that layers within the glaze structure represent alternating environmental conditions in Kimberley rock shelters, that repeated over thousands of years. </p>
<p>Our model suggests that during drier conditions, bush fires produce ash, which builds up on shelter surfaces. This ash contains a range of minerals, including carbonates and sulphates. We suggest that under the right conditions, these minerals provided nutrients that allowed microbes to live on these shelter surfaces. In the process of digesting these nutrients, the microbes excrete a compound called oxalic acid, which combines with calcium in the ash deposits to form calcium oxalate. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414950/original/file-20210806-19-18wbcl7.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414950/original/file-20210806-19-18wbcl7.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414950/original/file-20210806-19-18wbcl7.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414950/original/file-20210806-19-18wbcl7.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414950/original/file-20210806-19-18wbcl7.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=395&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414950/original/file-20210806-19-18wbcl7.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=496&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414950/original/file-20210806-19-18wbcl7.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=496&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414950/original/file-20210806-19-18wbcl7.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=496&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A: dark coloured, smooth mineral coating at a Kimberley rock shelter; B: alternating layering, as seen in the field; C: alternating layering as seen in a cross-sectioned coating under a microscope.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photos by Cecilia Myers; microscope image by Helen Green</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>As this process repeats over millennia, the minerals become cemented together in alternating layers, with each layer creating a record of the conditions in the rock shelter at that time.</p>
<p>Samples of the glazes were collected for analysis in close collaboration and consultation with local Traditional Owners from the Balanggarra native title region, who are partners on our research project. Using a laser, we vaporised tiny samples from the coatings to study the chemical composition of each layer. The dark layers were mostly made of calcium oxalate, while lighter layers contained mainly sulphates. We propose darker layers represent a time when microbes were more active and lighter layers represent drier periods. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-climate-change-is-erasing-the-worlds-oldest-rock-art-159929">How climate change is erasing the world’s oldest rock art</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Linking the layers</h2>
<p>These dark calcium oxalate layers also contain carbon that was absorbed from the atmosphere and digested by the microbes that created these deposits. This meant we could use a technique called <a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-what-is-radiocarbon-dating-and-how-does-it-work-9690">radiocarbon dating</a> to determine the age of these individual layers. </p>
<p>Using a tiny drill, we removed samples from distinct dark layers in nine glazes collected from different rock shelters across the northeast Kimberley.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414912/original/file-20210805-15-jsprpt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414912/original/file-20210805-15-jsprpt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414912/original/file-20210805-15-jsprpt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414912/original/file-20210805-15-jsprpt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414912/original/file-20210805-15-jsprpt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=260&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414912/original/file-20210805-15-jsprpt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414912/original/file-20210805-15-jsprpt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414912/original/file-20210805-15-jsprpt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=327&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A: micro-drilling samples from individual layers for radiocarbon dating; B: Laser ablation maps showing the distribution of the element calcium within the different layers; C: radiocarbon dating of individual layers identified four key growth periods.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photo by Andy Gleadow; illustration by Pauline Heaney</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Despite coming from different locations, these layers all seem to have been deposited at the same time, during four key intervals spanning the past 43,000 years.</p>
<p>This suggests the formation of each layer was determined mainly by shifts in environmental conditions throughout the Kimberley, rather than by the distinct conditions in each particular rock shelter.</p>
<p>The records held by these glazes over such a large time period - including the most recent ice age - means they could help us better understand the environmental changes that directly affected human habitation and adaptation in Australia.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414952/original/file-20210806-17-bkibgr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414952/original/file-20210806-17-bkibgr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/414952/original/file-20210806-17-bkibgr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=459&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414952/original/file-20210806-17-bkibgr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=459&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414952/original/file-20210806-17-bkibgr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=459&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414952/original/file-20210806-17-bkibgr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=577&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414952/original/file-20210806-17-bkibgr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=577&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/414952/original/file-20210806-17-bkibgr.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=577&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Hypothetical example of how layered mineral coatings can be used to date engraved rock art in Kimberley rock shelters.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pauline Heaney</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Stories in stone</h2>
<p>Research we <a href="https://www.nature.com/articles/s41562-020-01041-0">published earlier this year</a> shows how the subjects painted in early Kimberley rock art changed from mostly animals and plants around 17,000 years ago, to mostly decorated human figures about 12,000 years ago. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/this-17-500-year-old-kangaroo-in-the-kimberley-is-australias-oldest-aboriginal-rock-painting-154181">This 17,500-year-old kangaroo in the Kimberley is Australia's oldest Aboriginal rock painting</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><a href="https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S1040618216305018?via%3Dihub">Other</a> <a href="https://doi.org/10.1016/j.quascirev.2017.11.030">researchers</a> have discovered that during this 5,000-year period there were rapid rises in sea level, in particular around 14,500 years ago, as well as increased rainfall. </p>
<p>We interpret the change in rock art styles as a response to the social and cultural adaptations triggered by the changing climate and rising sea levels. Paintings of human figures with new technologies such as spear-throwers might show us how people adapted their hunting style to the changing environment and the availability of different types of food.</p>
<p>By dating the natural mineral coatings on the rock surfaces that acted as a canvas for this art, we can hopefully better understand the world in which these artists lived. Not only will this give us more certainty about the position of particular paintings within the overall <a href="https://rockartaustralia.org.au/rock-art/rock-art-sequence/">Kimberley stylistic rock art sequence</a>, but can also tell us about the environments experienced by First Nations people in the Kimberley. </p>
<hr>
<p><em>We thank the Balanggarra Aboriginal Corporation, the Centre for Accelerator Science at the Australian National Science and Technology Organisation, Rock Art Australia and Dunkeld Pastoral Co for their collaboration on this research.</em>_</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/164952/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>receives funding from the Australian Research Council, Rock Art Australia, The Ian Potter Foundation and an Australian Postgraduate Award and the Australian Institute of Nuclear Science and Engineering .</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Damien Finch receives funding from the Australian Research Council, Rock Art Australia, an Australian Postgraduate Award and the Australian Institute of Nuclear Science and Engineering .</span></em></p>
Indigenous artists have been engraving rock shelters for millennia - long before the Kimberley’s celebrated rock art paintings. Now the rocks’ natural coatings are yielding clues to the engravings’ creation.
Helen Green, Research Fellow, The University of Melbourne
Damien Finch, Research fellow, The University of Melbourne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/155119
2021-05-04T20:06:09Z
2021-05-04T20:06:09Z
After 140 years, researchers have rediscovered an important Aboriginal ceremonial ground in East Gippsland
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/397293/original/file-20210427-19-14w5h8w.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A Gunaikurnai Jeraeil re-enactment c.1883 with men, women, and children. Left to right: (standing) Big Joe, Billy the Bull, Wild Harry, Billy McDougall, Snowy River Charlie, unidentified man, Bobby Brown, Billy McLeod (Toolabar), Larry Johnson. Woman, second from right: Emma McDougall.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">State Library of Victoria</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>After 140 years, researchers have rediscovered an Aboriginal ceremonial ground in Victoria’s East Gippsland. The site was host to the last young men’s initiation ceremony of the Gunaikurnai back in 1884, witnessed by the anthropologist A.W. Howitt. </p>
<p>Howitt’s field notes, combined with contemporary Gunaikurnai knowledge of their country, has led to the rediscovery. The site is located on public land, on the edge of the small fishing village of Seacombe. Its precise location had been lost following decades of colonial suppression of Gunaikurnai ritual and religious practices. </p>
<p>Researchers from the <a href="https://howittandfison.org">Howitt and Fison Archive project</a> and the <a href="https://gunaikurnai.org.au">Gunaikurnai Land and Waters Aboriginal Corporation</a> began searching for the site in 2018. While it lacks archaeological traces, such as middens, rock art, stone arrangements or artefact scatters, the importance of such ceremonial grounds is under-recognised. They are a central feature of Australian Indigenous conceptions of landscape and have considerable historical and cultural importance. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/397294/original/file-20210427-19-167fp66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/397294/original/file-20210427-19-167fp66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/397294/original/file-20210427-19-167fp66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397294/original/file-20210427-19-167fp66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397294/original/file-20210427-19-167fp66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397294/original/file-20210427-19-167fp66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397294/original/file-20210427-19-167fp66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397294/original/file-20210427-19-167fp66.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The authors examine the ceremony ground.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>The Jeraeil</h2>
<p>In the first few weeks of 1884, the Gunaikurnai peoples of Gippsland were preparing for a historic gathering. After decades of discussion and negotiation with Howitt, who was also a local magistrate and power broker, they finally agreed to allow him to record their secretive young men’s initiation ceremony, known as the Jeraeil. </p>
<p>Last held in 1857, just a few years before Howitt arrived in Gippsland, the Jeraeil had ceased to be performed due to tighter governmental restrictions and stern dissuasion from Christian missionaries. </p>
<p>On January 30 1884, all the required Gunaikurnai people had assembled. Those coming from the Lake Tyers Mission came on the paddle steamer Tanjil. Those from Ramahyuck Mission, on the shores of Lake Wellington, arrived on the steamer Dargo. </p>
<p>Convinced that an Aboriginal initiation ceremony from this part of the colony would never be performed again, Howitt arranged and paid for his primary Kulin informants from the Melbourne area, <a href="https://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/barak-william-2930">William Barak</a> and Dick Richards, to attend so they could contribute their commentary on Victorian ceremonies.</p>
<p>The event, which lasted four days, began with a series of preliminary
ceremonies involving men and women singing together. The women
kept time by beating on rugs folded in their laps and hitting digging
sticks on the ground. Many of the performances that followed were restricted only to men, with six youths eventually initiated into manhood. </p>
<p>“It was remarkable,” Howitt commented, that although he had known many of these men “intimately,” and for a long time, they had kept these “special secrets […] carefully concealed” from him for many years. </p>
<p>Howitt’s published description of the Jeraeil, along with the equally significant work on similar ceremonies in New South Wales produced by Robert Hamilton Mathews, went on to influence the way religious life and ritual in south-eastern Australia was understood. </p>
<h2>Finding the site</h2>
<p>Lacking from Howitt’s record, however, was a precise description of where the historic ceremony had been held. A recent <a href="https://howittandfison.org">project</a> to work on Howitt’s field notes in collaboration with Gunaikurnai people has uncovered new details, including a sketch map of the ceremony ground, sparking community interest in finding the site. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/397295/original/file-20210427-21-1jzs73r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/397295/original/file-20210427-21-1jzs73r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/397295/original/file-20210427-21-1jzs73r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397295/original/file-20210427-21-1jzs73r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397295/original/file-20210427-21-1jzs73r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397295/original/file-20210427-21-1jzs73r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1154&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397295/original/file-20210427-21-1jzs73r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1154&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/397295/original/file-20210427-21-1jzs73r.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1154&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Plan of the Jeraeil ground drawn by A. W. Howitt.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">A. W. Howitt Collection Museum Victoria.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Howitt’s drawing of the ceremony ground, along with his notes and newspaper articles, enabled the research team to positively locate the site, on the edge of Seacombe, near the McLellan’s strait, which links Lake Wellington with the Southern Ocean.</p>
<p>The site’s significance lies not in any immediately observable physical property, but in its historical and cultural associations. They span the story associated with this place, including the local creation stories associated with Bullum Baukan (a woman with two spirits inside her); the complicated relationship with Howitt; interactions with other colonial authorities and the status of the Jeraeil in anthropological literature. </p>
<p>Discovery of this site means it is now protected under the (Victorian) Aboriginal Heritage Act 2006. All Aboriginal cultural heritage is protected in Victoria whether it has been formally registered or not and it is an offence to harm it. </p>
<p>The Jeraeil site is arguably one of the most significant of places in terms of the ritual and ceremonial life of Gunaikurnai people. However, the prospect of erecting signage at the Jeraeil site can produce mixed responses.</p>
<p>On the one hand, telling the world about these places might secure them. On the other, the Gunaikurnai live in a region dotted with monuments that remind people of the colonial violence enacted by men such as Scottish explorer <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-06-16/victorian-council-to-vote-on-removal-of-angus-mcmillan-monuments/12355930">Angus McMillian</a>. One plaque brazenly describes McMillan as an explorer who achieved “territorial ascendancy over Gippsland Aborigines”. </p>
<p>Victorian Aboriginal cultural heritage continues to be damaged <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-04-06/victorian-aboriginal-site-lake-bolac-eastern-maar-damage/100051462">as happened with the recent partial destruction of the Kooyang Stone Arrangement in Lake Bolac</a>. Some in the Gunaikurnai community fear too little is being done to protect such places but also worry about the public’s readiness to embrace Aboriginal cultural heritage. </p>
<p>Still, it is imperative places like the 1884 Jeraeil ground are better understood, recognised and protected. Not only does it tell a story of Aboriginal cultural practice but of shared Aboriginal and European interactions we should all know more about.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/155119/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jason M. Gibson receives funding from the Australia Research Council Grants LP200100045 and LP160100192.
</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Russell Mullett is affiliated with GunaiKurnai Land & Waters Aboriginal Corporation. Also appointed to the Museum Victoria Aboriginal Cultural Heritage Advisory Committee</span></em></p>
It was the site of historic gatherings, such as a four-day initiation ceremony for young men. Then colonial authorities quashed such practices. The place was lost for more than a century, until now.
Jason M. Gibson, Research Fellow, Deakin University
Russell Mullett, Traditional Custodian — Kurnai, Indigenous Knowledge
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/157315
2021-04-07T20:16:27Z
2021-04-07T20:16:27Z
‘Our dad’s painting is hiding, in secret place’: how Aboriginal rock art can live on even when gone
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390075/original/file-20210317-13-1m1ezb2.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">December 1972: Billy Miargu, with his daughter Linda on his arm, and his wife Daphnie Baljur. In the background, the newly painted kangaroo.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photograph by George Chaloupka, now in Parks Australia's Archive at Bowali.</span></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised this article contains images and names of deceased people.</em></p>
<hr>
<p>Aboriginal rock art unfolds stories about the present-past and emerging worlds, often described by an outsider as the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Dreaming">Dreamtime</a>. Some rock art, it is believed, was put in place by spiritual and <a href="https://www.nma.gov.au/defining-moments/resources/first-rock-art">mythological beings</a>. Many of these Ancestral Beings travelled vast distances, and their journeys link places, clans and different rock art paintings.</p>
<p>Other images were created to <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/00293652.2020.1779802">educate children</a> about cultural protocols, or just made to tell an amusing story. The <a href="https://www.academia.edu/40790433/This_is_my_fathers_painting_A_first_hand_account_of_the_creation_of_the_most_iconic_rock_art_in_Kakadu_National_Park">artists who created the works</a> are also important. Some artists were prolific and appreciated. A person <a href="https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/00293652.2020.1779802">who made a hand stencil</a> could often be identified by the hand’s shape. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/introducing-the-maliwawa-figures-a-previously-undescribed-rock-art-style-found-in-western-arnhem-land-145535">Introducing the Maliwawa Figures: a previously undescribed rock art style found in Western Arnhem Land</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Our <a href="https://www.academia.edu/45530029/_Our_dads_painting_is_hiding_in_secret_place_Reverberations_of_a_rock_painting_episode_in_Kakadu_National_Park_Australia">new research</a> into a 1972 painting made by Billy Miargu in today’s Kakadu National Park shows how rock art can act as an intergenerational media — even when no longer visible to the eye.</p>
<p>In December 1972, Robert Edwards and George Chaloupka, two acclaimed rock art researchers, came across Miargu camping at Koongarra in the heart of Kakadu. They took a photograph of his family. In the background, there was a newly made painting of a kangaroo. The researchers did not think much about this image, describing it as a “<a href="https://www.academia.edu/45530029/_Our_dads_painting_is_hiding_in_secret_place_Reverberations_of_a_rock_painting_episode_in_Kakadu_National_Park_Australia">poor naturalistic representation</a>.”</p>
<p>When Paul S.C. Taçon revisited the painting only 13 years later, it was gone (probably due to exposure to wind and rain). In 2018, we used state-of-the-art digital documentation methods to try to detect remnants of the kangaroo, but all in vain. We can no longer see the white kangaroo, as shown in the photograph below.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390100/original/file-20210317-21-i6w8ff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390100/original/file-20210317-21-i6w8ff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390100/original/file-20210317-21-i6w8ff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390100/original/file-20210317-21-i6w8ff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390100/original/file-20210317-21-i6w8ff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390100/original/file-20210317-21-i6w8ff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390100/original/file-20210317-21-i6w8ff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390100/original/file-20210317-21-i6w8ff.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A 2019 image of the rock canvas Miargu painted his kangaroo on back in 1972.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photograph by Iain Johnston</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Revisiting Koongarra</h2>
<p>In June 2019, we returned to Koongarra with three of Miargu’s daughters, two of his granddaughters and a great-granddaughter. </p>
<p>We wanted to learn about the <a href="https://www.academia.edu/45530029/_Our_dads_painting_is_hiding_in_secret_place_Reverberations_of_a_rock_painting_episode_in_Kakadu_National_Park_Australia">artist and what meaning this place holds today for his family</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390096/original/file-20210317-13-1wgq9jg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390096/original/file-20210317-13-1wgq9jg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/390096/original/file-20210317-13-1wgq9jg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390096/original/file-20210317-13-1wgq9jg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390096/original/file-20210317-13-1wgq9jg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390096/original/file-20210317-13-1wgq9jg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390096/original/file-20210317-13-1wgq9jg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/390096/original/file-20210317-13-1wgq9jg.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Some of Billy Miargu’s children, grand children and great-grandchildren, from left to right: Julie Blawgur, Linda Biyalwanga, Linda’s daughter Ruby Djandjomerr, Linda’s granddaughter Keena Djandjomerr (on the ledge), Julie’s daughter Syanne Naborlhborlh and Joanne Sullivan.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photograph by Joakim Goldhahn.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We learned that Miargu was born in central Arnhem Land. He moved west to Kakadu around the time of the second world war to work at cattle stations — shooting buffalo, cutting timber — and emerging tourist venues. His clan was Barrbinj and his wife, Daphnie Baljur, was Barrappa. Together, they had six children: five daughters and a son.</p>
<p>Miargu and his wife were camping at Koongarra in 1972 while participating in a fact-finding survey on behalf of the Commonwealth government and the Australian Mining Industry Council for a planned uranium mine. They collected mammals and reptiles for this study.</p>
<p>Our conversations revealed that the place where Miargu painted the kangaroo had a special meaning for him. It is situated in his mother’s clan Country, and he had a ceremonial obligation to this place. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/391627/original/file-20210325-13-8fdma3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/391627/original/file-20210325-13-8fdma3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/391627/original/file-20210325-13-8fdma3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=511&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/391627/original/file-20210325-13-8fdma3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=511&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/391627/original/file-20210325-13-8fdma3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=511&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/391627/original/file-20210325-13-8fdma3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=642&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/391627/original/file-20210325-13-8fdma3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=642&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/391627/original/file-20210325-13-8fdma3.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=642&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Billy Miargu with his daughter Linda on his arm in December 1972. The newly made kangaroo figure is seen in the background.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photograph by George Chaloupka, now in Parks Australia's Archive at Bowali.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The original kangaroo painting referenced a local ceremony. Depicting this Ancestral Being in his mother’s Country shows that Miargu had undergone this ceremony and was keen to care for this Country. Today, his son and daughters have inherited some of these obligations.</p>
<p>Even though Miargu’s painting of the kangaroo can no longer be detected, this place holds a special meaning to his descendants. In fact, for the family, they say “our dad’s painting is hiding, in secret place”. They address the painting as if it is still there, visible or not.</p>
<p>Miargu passed away in 1990. This is the only place the family knows where he created rock art. His daughter Linda Biyalwanga said, “we don’t know any other paintings. Only one painting, that’s why we bring our children to show them this painting.”</p>
<p>And she explained:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>My daddy, story, memory, like memories, memory for us, and [he] make [the rock art] for the grandchildren, yeah. He said when I passed away, then my daughters will come around and maybe my granddaughter, and grandsons, great-great-grandchildren come and have look at […] rock art […] When they have kids, they can show them the painting.</p>
</blockquote>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/destruction-of-juukan-gorge-we-need-to-know-the-history-of-artefacts-but-it-is-more-important-to-keep-them-in-place-139650">Destruction of Juukan Gorge: we need to know the history of artefacts, but it is more important to keep them in place</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Defying Western notions of time</h2>
<p>The tangible place, the intangible rock painting, and the family’s recollection of the happy times they spent together with their parents at this special place seem to have merged into a present-past and future which embrace Western concepts of space, but defy similar notions of time.</p>
<p>In an inexplicable but noteworthy way, Miargu’s painting seems more present today because it is absent.</p>
<p>To visit Koongarra and the rock art figure he created is vital for his family. It evokes cherished memories about their parents and feelings, but also sorrow and the loss of “the Old People who finished up”.</p>
<p>Joanne Sullivan, another of Miargu’s daughters, expressed this when she said: “I wish my dad sit here.” </p>
<p>When asked if there are other places where they can connect to their parents in this way, Linda Biyalwanga answered: “It’s the only place. It’s the only place we think about, like, his spirit, mum’s spirit.”</p>
<p>When we left the place, Miargu’s daughters called out to their parents’ spirits and asked them to remember them and take care of them. Even though the rock painting “is hiding”, it is still crucial — it lives on even when gone…</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/392153/original/file-20210329-17-2tu2dy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/392153/original/file-20210329-17-2tu2dy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/392153/original/file-20210329-17-2tu2dy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392153/original/file-20210329-17-2tu2dy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392153/original/file-20210329-17-2tu2dy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392153/original/file-20210329-17-2tu2dy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392153/original/file-20210329-17-2tu2dy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/392153/original/file-20210329-17-2tu2dy.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">In the front row, Billy Miargu’s daughters, collaborators and co-authors: Joanne Sullivan, Linda Biyalwanga and Julie Blawgur.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Photograph by Joakim Goldhahn.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p><em>This research was undertaken in collaboration with the family members of Billy Miargu and Daphnie Baljur.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/157315/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>This research was led by Dr Sally K. May at Griffith University as a part of Professor Paul S.C. Taçon's ARC Laureate project "Australian rock art: History, conservation and Indigenous well-being". We thank all Traditional Owners, the staff at Parks Australia, and our research team who participated in our fieldwork.
Joakim Goldhahn's research was sponsored by Rock Art Australia. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Paul S.C.Taçon receives funding from the Australian Research Council. </span></em></p>
How does rock art matter? New research finds it can act as a kind of intergenerational media –even when no longer visible to the eye.
Joakim Goldhahn, Kimberley Foundation Ian Potter Chair in Rock Art, Centre of Rock Art Research + Management, The University of Western Australia
Paul S.C.Taçon, Chair in Rock Art Research and Director of the Place, Evolution and Rock Art Heritage Unit (PERAHU), Griffith University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/154954
2021-02-24T00:01:53Z
2021-02-24T00:01:53Z
Unwelcoming and reluctant to help: bushfire recovery hasn’t considered Aboriginal culture — but things are finally starting to change
<p>Disaster resilience and recovery conversations are filled with mentions of “community”, but collapsing various groups together this way fails to acknowledge that <a href="https://theconversation.com/you-cant-talk-about-disaster-risk-reduction-without-talking-about-inequality-153189">people experience disasters differently</a>. </p>
<p>For Indigenous peoples — whose experiences are shaped by vastly different historical and cultural contexts to non-Indigenous Australians — the lack of understanding or cultural safety demonstrated by government agencies and non-government organisations created additional trauma during the Black Summer bushfires.</p>
<p>The <a href="https://www.dpc.nsw.gov.au/assets/dpc-nsw-gov-au/publications/NSW-Bushfire-Inquiry-1630/Final-Report-of-the-NSW-Bushfire-Inquiry.pdf">final report</a> of the NSW bushfire inquiry found: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>In some communities Aboriginal people felt unwelcome at evacuation centres and in some cases support services were reluctant to provide immediate relief… These experiences compounded the trauma they had already experienced as a result of the bush fires.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>The Victorian government’s <a href="https://www.vic.gov.au/sites/default/files/2020-09/After%20The%20Flames%20-%20Community%20Reflections%202019-20.pdf">After the Flames</a> report also found: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>For Aboriginal people, relationships to Country, culture and community are not only interconnected, they are intrinsically linked to one’s identity. This means that when one of these foundations is impacted by a disaster, Aboriginal Victorians experience unique pain and loss. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>In response to these findings, <a href="https://www.vic.gov.au/bushfire-recovery-victoria">Bushfire Recovery Victoria</a> has identified a number of unique issues faced by Indigenous peoples, including inappropriate funding models and reluctance to engage with support services due to experiences of racism.</p>
<p>Equally significant, Bushfire Recovery Victoria has identified the need to embed <a href="https://www.premier.vic.gov.au/bushfire-grants-support-aboriginal-culture-and-healing">Aboriginal culture and healing</a> in its programs. </p>
<p>Acknowledging the trauma associated with encounters between Indigenous people and culturally unsafe agencies during Black Summer — and the long-overdue recognition of the place of culture and healing in disaster recovery — is a positive step.</p>
<p>This signifies the sector’s increasing willingness to address the systemic neglect of the needs of Indigenous peoples. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/1-in-10-children-affected-by-bushfires-is-indigenous-weve-been-ignoring-them-for-too-long-135212">1 in 10 children affected by bushfires is Indigenous. We've been ignoring them for too long</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Indigenous healing and disaster recovery</h2>
<p>In recent times, Indigenous healing frameworks have been called upon to respond to the forced <a href="https://healingfoundation.org.au/resources/healing-the-stolen-generations-the-theory-of-change/">removal of Indigenous children</a> from their families and communities. But it also has broader significance and is now applied in areas such as <a href="https://www.vic.gov.au/nargneit-birrang-aboriginal-holistic-healing-framework-family-violence">family violence</a>, justice reinvestment and more. </p>
<p>We suggest healing as a process and practice can also be applied in disaster affected Indigenous communities. </p>
<p>Indigenous healing can be thought of as a cultural and spiritual process and inherently <a href="http://earlytraumagrief.anu.edu.au/files/Feeney_HealingDiscussionPaper_2009-1.pdf">tied to Country</a>. </p>
<p>As I (Bhiamie Williamson) outlined in a <a href="https://naturaldisaster.royalcommission.gov.au/system/files/submission/NND.001.00969.pdf">submission</a> to the <a href="https://naturaldisaster.royalcommission.gov.au/">Royal Commission into National Natural Disaster Arrangements</a>, Indigenous healing literature foregrounds the importance of culture and cultural specificity. </p>
<p>Indigenous approaches recognise that healing:</p>
<ul>
<li>is a holistic process that seeks to identify imbalance in a person’s life and rectify these imbalances</li>
<li>is a social rather than an individual journey</li>
<li>compels people to identify the root source of trauma and take actions to rectify this.</li>
</ul>
<p>Healing resources also include <a href="https://books.google.com.au/books?hl=en&lr=&id=jueIDwAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PT166&dq=Judy+Atkinson+trauma+stories+healing+stories+therapeutic+intent&ots=Xq9AJS2LDI&sig=1S8M1SAhpaFyFiYtFgLtRU1u-Rk#v=onepage&q=Judy%20Atkinson%20trauma%20stories%20healing%20stories%20therapeutic%20intent&f=false">activities</a> such as storytelling, yarning circles, and land-based activities, to provide practical tools so professionals can support people and communities on their healing journey. </p>
<p>Although the field of Indigenous disaster recovery is in its infancy, it’s clear culturally-informed approaches to healing help support Indigenous communities <a href="https://www.bnhcrc.com.au/hazardnotes/89">recovering</a> from disaster. </p>
<p>But these lessons have larger relevance to (non-Indigenous) community recovery more generally.</p>
<p>As governments, non-government organisations and researchers embark upon this long <a href="https://ecavic.org.au/online-an-evening-with-bushfire-recovery-victoria/">overdue work</a>, it is important to reflect on how we frame these issues.</p>
<h2>Non-Indigenous peoples learning from Indigenous peoples</h2>
<p>Too often, the rebuilding of infrastructure and economies are considered separate to and above social, cultural and environmental elements of recovery. </p>
<p>By contrast, Indigenous culture and healing approaches emphasise the interconnectedness of all aspects of life.</p>
<p>But for positive and meaningful collaboration — and for others to learn from Indigenous healing approaches — non-Indigenous peoples and institutions must hear what Indigenous people are really saying, and examine their own practices. </p>
<p>This requires more <a href="https://link.springer.com/chapter/10.1007/978-981-15-0466-2_16">just and equitable approaches</a> to disaster recovery and resilience.</p>
<p>More research in Indigenous disaster recovery is needed, of course, but it’s also important to think carefully about <em>how</em> such research is done.</p>
<p>For Indigenous and non-Indigenous collaborations, it’s appropriate to ask: will the approach address power imbalances between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples?</p>
<p>A more productive collaborative approach can begin with reframing Indigenous communities to illuminate the sources of strength rather than vulnerability. It starts with focusing on systems – rather than people – as problems to be fixed.</p>
<h2>Beyond ‘vulnerable’</h2>
<p>The language of “vulnerable populations” is used to describe groups of people whose needs are distinct from mainstream populations, such as people with a disability, migrants, children and Indigenous peoples. </p>
<p>But viewing Indigenous peoples as vulnerable masks the inequitable power relationships that produce these same vulnerabilities. It typecasts Indigenous peoples as a problem to be solved and non-Indigenous peoples as benevolent helpers.</p>
<p>The language of vulnerabilities often overlooks or ignores the entrenched marginalisation of Indigenous peoples in areas such as local, state and federal governments, universities and business communities among others. </p>
<p>Vulnerabilities do exist, but they are not inherent characteristics of Indigenous peoples — instead they stem from systems of inequity. </p>
<p>Equally, the many <a href="https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/bitstream/1885/202442/1/CAEPR%20WP_no%20134_2020_Williamson_Markham_Weir_corrected.pdf">strengths</a> that exist in Indigenous communities are too often overlooked.</p>
<p>Many Indigenous communities can be characterised as possessing close social bonds, shared understandings of history and the ability to withstand extreme events and adjust to new norms. </p>
<p>These characteristics have been identified by community recovery <a href="https://naturaldisaster.royalcommission.gov.au/system/files/submission/NND.001.00969.pdf">researchers</a> as enabling effective and timely recovery post-disaster. </p>
<p>Much can be learnt from Indigenous healing approaches to incorporate the pursuit of systemic change as an empowering — and necessary — complement to personal and community recovery.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/strength-from-perpetual-grief-how-aboriginal-people-experience-the-bushfire-crisis-129448">Strength from perpetual grief: how Aboriginal people experience the bushfire crisis</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p><em>This article is part of a series The Conversation is running on the nexus between disaster, disadvantage and resilience. It is supported by a philanthropic grant from the Paul Ramsay foundation. You can read the rest of the series <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/disaster-and-resilience-series-97537">here</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/154954/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Bhiamie Williamson is a member of the ACT Bushfire Council and the NSW Forest Monitoring and Improvement Program Steering Committee.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Phoebe Quinn is currently receiving funding from Bushfire and Natural Hazards CRC and Bushfire Recovery Victoria for related work.</span></em></p>
Bushfire Recovery Victoria has a focus on Aboriginal culture and healing – a long overdue approach in disaster recovery.
Bhiamie Williamson, Research Associate & PhD Candidate, Australian National University
Phoebe Quinn, Research Fellow - Disaster Recovery, The University of Melbourne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/119081
2021-02-12T03:21:56Z
2021-02-12T03:21:56Z
The Moon plays an important role in Indigenous culture and helped win a battle over sea rights
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/374103/original/file-20201210-16-15we3g5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=1504%2C537%2C2479%2C1598&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">
</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Shutterstock/Balakleypb</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The New Moon this month marks the start of the <a href="https://chinesenewyear.net/">Lunar New Year</a> and reminds us of how important our orbiting neighbour is to us.</p>
<p>It’s a relationship long described by many cultures across the globe, particularly with its links to tides and weather.</p>
<p>In the Torres Strait it was a crucially important element in helping the islanders win a <a href="https://theconversation.com/a-shark-in-the-stars-astronomy-and-culture-in-the-torres-strait-15850">legal battle for sea rights</a>.</p>
<h2>Under a Meriam Moon</h2>
<p>In the Torres Strait, the Moon plays an important role in culture, identity and daily life. Every aspect of our natural satellite - from its phase, position, appearance and brightness - has special significance and meaning.</p>
<p>A traditional story of the Meriam people from <a href="http://www.tsirc.qld.gov.au/communities/mer">Mer</a> (Murray Island), in the eastern Torres Strait, explains how you can see a lady in the Full Moon weaving mats.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/why-do-different-cultures-see-such-similar-meanings-in-the-constellations-121981">Why do different cultures see such similar meanings in the constellations?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>She was brought there by the Moon Man, which describes the formation of the maria (dark patches) on its surface that form the <a href="https://umbrella.org.au/product/meb-moon/">silhouette of the woman</a>.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Rb9kEBQGNzE?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Meriam elder Uncle Alo Tapim telling the story about the lady in the Moon.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Tides of change</h2>
<p>Lunar phases link to the changing tides, a relationship that is well established in Islander knowledge systems.</p>
<p>One practical application links to fishing. Elders teach that the best time to fish is during a neap (lower amplitude) tide during the First or Last Quarter Moon, rather than a spring (higher amplitude) tide during the New or Full Moon phase.</p>
<p>The spring tides are much bigger, meaning the tidal waters rush in and out more significantly, stirring up silt and sediment on the sea floor. This clouds the water, making it harder for fish to see the bait and fishers to see the fish.</p>
<p>The waters of spring tides also pull fish out to sea. During the smaller neap tides, the water is clearer and fish don’t move as far, making them easier to see and catch.</p>
<p>Gardeners such as Meriam elder Uncle Alo Tapim (below) plant their gardens by the phases of the Moon. The cusps (tips) of the crescent Moon (<em>kerkar meb</em>) point in different directions throughout the year, as we move from summer solstice to winter solstice and back again.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383708/original/file-20210211-20-nlmx9u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Head shots of the two Meriam elders." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383708/original/file-20210211-20-nlmx9u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383708/original/file-20210211-20-nlmx9u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=299&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383708/original/file-20210211-20-nlmx9u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=299&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383708/original/file-20210211-20-nlmx9u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=299&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383708/original/file-20210211-20-nlmx9u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383708/original/file-20210211-20-nlmx9u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383708/original/file-20210211-20-nlmx9u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=376&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Meriam elders Alo Tapim (left) and Segar Passi (right).</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="license">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Uncle Segar Passi (above), a senior Meriam elder, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nefCfJaNuLo&t=1052">teaches</a> that when the Moon cusps point upwards (<em>Meb metalug em</em>), the Moon looks like a bowl collecting water. The water is choppy and you will see cumulus clouds in the sky. This occurs during the Sager (dry season), a period of fine weather.</p>
<p>When the Moon tilts on its side (<em>Meb uag em</em>), thin cirrus clouds are visible and a fuzzy ring may form around the Moon. The seas look calm and mirror-flat and you will see thin cirrus clouds, but this is when the water pours out of the bowl, falling as the rains of the Kuki (wet season). </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383723/original/file-20210211-17-1500x25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="The Moon in a crescent phase." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383723/original/file-20210211-17-1500x25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/383723/original/file-20210211-17-1500x25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383723/original/file-20210211-17-1500x25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383723/original/file-20210211-17-1500x25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383723/original/file-20210211-17-1500x25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383723/original/file-20210211-17-1500x25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/383723/original/file-20210211-17-1500x25.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A crescent Moon.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Pixabay</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Moon halos are used to forecast weather. In the Torres Strait, the ring around the Moon (<em>susri</em>) is seen to be a hut built by the Moon Man to shield himself from coming rain.</p>
<p>Halos form around the Moon when moonlight passes through ice crystals high in the atmosphere. These form in low fronts, which often bring rain.</p>
<h2>An eclipse of the Moon</h2>
<p>On <a href="http://www.tsirc.qld.gov.au/communities/badu">Badu</a>, in the Torres Strait, an eclipse of the Moon is called <em>Merlpal Maru Pathanu</em>, meaning “the ghost has taken the spirit of the Moon”.</p>
<p>It was an omen of war. On <a href="http://www.tsirc.qld.gov.au/communities/boigu">Boigu</a>, the northern-most island, men would don a <a href="http://pd0xcomlb01-pubflt-a033.ccssc.gov.au/object/106927">special headdress</a> and perform a ceremony to figure out the direction of the incoming attack.</p>
<p>The same name is used for a solar eclipse, which is seen as the superposition of the two celestial bodies.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/366905/original/file-20201102-13-1rtccxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Merlpal Maru Pathanu, lunar eclipse linocut." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/366905/original/file-20201102-13-1rtccxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/366905/original/file-20201102-13-1rtccxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/366905/original/file-20201102-13-1rtccxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/366905/original/file-20201102-13-1rtccxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=777&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/366905/original/file-20201102-13-1rtccxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=977&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/366905/original/file-20201102-13-1rtccxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=977&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/366905/original/file-20201102-13-1rtccxv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=977&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"><em>Merlpal Maru Pathanu</em> … ‘the ghost has taken the spirit of the Moon’.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">David Bosun (Senior artist at Moa Arts). Author provided from private collection, reproduced with permission of the artist.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>A battle for sea rights</h2>
<p>Every June 3, Australia celebrates <a href="https://aiatsis.gov.au/explore/articles/mabo-case">Mabo Day</a>, marking the decision by the High Court of Australia to overturn the legal fiction of <em>terra nullius</em> (“a land belonging to no one”) in a landmark court case.</p>
<p>This was driven by Meriam man <a href="https://www.indigenous.gov.au/eddie-mabo-the-man-behind-mabo-day">Edward Koike Mabo</a>, paving the way for <a href="https://www.creativespirits.info/aboriginalculture/land/land-rights-and-native-title-whats-the-difference">Native Title</a>. But this ruling did not necessarily extend to sea rights.</p>
<p>In the early 2000s, the people of Mer launched a legal battle for <a href="http://www8.austlii.edu.au/cgi-bin/viewdoc/au/cases/cth/FCA/2010/643.html">sea rights</a>. Government lawyers argued against the declaration by claiming each island was a separate enclave with no connection to one another.</p>
<p>But Torres Strait Islanders have a long history of cultural, linguistic and family connections across the Strait and with Papua New Guinea and mainland Australia.</p>
<p>During the proceedings, Meriam people were required to prove their longstanding connections in court. One crucial piece of evidence was a traditional Moon Dance.</p>
<h2><em>Gedge Togia</em></h2>
<p><em>Gedge Togia</em> is a sacred spiritual dance (<em>kab kar</em>) of the Meriam people, linking the islands of Mabuyag (also known as <a href="http://www.tsirc.qld.gov.au/communities/mabuiag">Mabuiag</a>) and <a href="http://www.tsirc.qld.gov.au/communities/mer">Mer</a>.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369195/original/file-20201112-19-1k9o67a.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Map of the Torres Strait" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369195/original/file-20201112-19-1k9o67a.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/369195/original/file-20201112-19-1k9o67a.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=595&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369195/original/file-20201112-19-1k9o67a.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=595&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369195/original/file-20201112-19-1k9o67a.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=595&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369195/original/file-20201112-19-1k9o67a.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=748&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369195/original/file-20201112-19-1k9o67a.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=748&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/369195/original/file-20201112-19-1k9o67a.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=748&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Map of the Torres Strait with the islands of Mabuiag (Mabuyag) and Mer (circled red).</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Kalaw_Lagaw_Ya.png">Wikimedia/Kwamikagami</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/">CC BY-SA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The lyrics are “<em>Gedge Togia, Milpanuka</em>”, which means “Moon rising over home” in two languages: <em>Gedge Togia</em> is the Meriam Mir language phrase meaning “to rise over home”, and <em>Milpanuka</em> is the Mabuyag dialect term for the Moon, which is derived from <em>Milpal</em>, a Kala Lagau Ya word for the Full Moon. For comparison, the Meriam Mir name of the Moon is <em>Meb</em>.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/kindred-skies-ancient-greeks-and-aboriginal-australians-saw-constellations-in-common-74850">Kindred skies: ancient Greeks and Aboriginal Australians saw constellations in common</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>During legal proceedings in the mid-2000s, a judge travelled to Mer and observed testimony presented by elders. Alo Tapim sang the song and explained the dance, the traditional dress and its importance and relevance to Meriam and Mabuyag connections.</p>
<figure>
<iframe width="440" height="260" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/szKsA5_7Q9M?wmode=transparent&start=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">A performance of Gedge Togia, explaned by Alo Tapim.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Mabuyag and Mer are 200km apart, lying almost due east and west of one another. As Meriam people sail home from Mabuyag they will see the Full Moon rising over Mer at dusk or the crescent Moon rising at dawn.</p>
<p><em>Gedge Togia</em> and the Moon demonstrates the longstanding connections between Mer and Mabuyag, and helped Islanders <a href="https://theconversation.com/native-title-rights-regulations-and-licences-the-torres-strait-sea-claim-16808">win their battle for sea rights</a>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/119081/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Duane W. Hamacher receives funding from the Australian Research Council and the Laby Foundation (School of Physics, University of Melbourne).
Alo Tapim OAM, a Dauareb scholar and Meriam elder, and Segar Passi, a Dauareb artist and Senior Meriam elder, both contributed to this article.</span></em></p>
The Moon is not only a guide to the best time to fish and plant food, it also provides evidence of a long connection between the people on different islands in the Torres Strait.
Duane Hamacher, Associate Professor, The University of Melbourne
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/147674
2020-10-08T04:46:43Z
2020-10-08T04:46:43Z
What are message sticks? Senator Lidia Thorpe continues a long and powerful diplomatic tradition
<p>This week, newly appointed <a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/news/lidia-thorpe-sworn-in-as-the-first-aboriginal-victorian-senator">Greens senator Lidia Thorpe</a> entered the chamber with one fist raised. In her other hand, she carried a large message stick with 441 carefully painted marks. </p>
<p>The lines represented each of the First Nations <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2020/sep/20/national-emergency-urgent-leadership-needed-after-fifth-aboriginal-death-in-custody-since-june">people who have died under police supervision</a> since the 1991 Royal Commission into Deaths in Custody. The first Indigenous senator from Victoria, Thorpe is a Gunnai and Gunditjmara woman with a history of fighting for justice on behalf of Aboriginal people.</p>
<p>Last year, Alwyn Doolan, a Gooreng Gooreng and Wakka Wakka man (and co-author of this article) <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-05-24/man-walks-8000km-to-deliver-reconciliation-message-to-canberra/11141742">brought three message sticks</a> to deliver to the Prime Minister representing Creation, Colonisation and Healing.</p>
<p>He carried them to Canberra all the way from Cape York, walking the long way round via Tasmania and Melbourne in a journey of over 8,500 kilometres. His intention was to submit a tribal law notice to the Australian government, to declare First Nations sovereignty, and open a new dialogue with the First Nations of this land.</p>
<p>These two events continue a powerful pre-Invasion tradition, when <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/1359183519858375">message sticks</a> were sent between distant communities to maintain diplomatic relations. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/lidia-thorpe-wants-to-shift-course-on-indigenous-recognition-heres-why-we-must-respect-the-uluru-statement-141609">Lidia Thorpe wants to shift course on Indigenous recognition. Here's why we must respect the Uluru Statement</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Treacherous journeys</h2>
<p>Traditionally, the Nation sending the message would appoint an individual to serve as a messenger to travel vast distances across land or water to meet a recipient. The sticks were small enough to carry a long way. Many of the signs on the stick had fixed meanings while others were intended to be decorative. </p>
<p>Colours such as red ochre or white pipe-clay also added meaning, and even the type of timber had significance. Along with the message, they might also tell a story of where the messenger had come from, depicting the journey as a map. </p>
<p>When the messenger made contact with the intended recipient, they would deliver the message verbally, referring to the signs on the stick to both illustrate and emphasise a memorised oral statement.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/362314/original/file-20201008-24-oqf7o5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="A collection of Indigenous message sticks." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/362314/original/file-20201008-24-oqf7o5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/362314/original/file-20201008-24-oqf7o5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=695&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362314/original/file-20201008-24-oqf7o5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=695&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362314/original/file-20201008-24-oqf7o5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=695&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362314/original/file-20201008-24-oqf7o5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=873&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362314/original/file-20201008-24-oqf7o5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=873&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362314/original/file-20201008-24-oqf7o5.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=873&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Message sticks held at the British Museum, circa 1950.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://nla.gov.au:443/tarkine/nla.obj-138157791">NLA</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Messengers were often men but in some regions women were known to take on this role. If you were a messenger you had a huge responsibility for your own people, and those from other nations were obliged to recognise you as an ambassador, to look after you and guarantee a safe passage.</p>
<p>Message sticks could be on any topic, but what they always had in common was the fact they demanded acknowledgement and mutual respect. They were often announcements about ceremonies, such as initiations or funerals. They could also be for establishing political partnerships, requesting emergency assistance, declaring war, organising hunting, or trading vital resources.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-lessons-from-stone-indigenous-thinking-and-the-law-122617">Friday essay: lessons from stone – Indigenous thinking and the Law</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Messengers would set out on foot, sometimes journeying for days or weeks on end. The mission was dangerous. There are over 500 First Nations within Australia and crossing into a foreign territory without permission could be punishable by death. But envoys had diplomatic immunity and their message stick was a bit like a passport in the modern sense. </p>
<p>In order to show peaceful intentions, they displayed the message stick clearly from a safe distance. A common technique was to hang it from the tip of a spear or to tuck it into a headband. Body paint could also be used to signal a special status.</p>
<p>Some past anthropologists held that only “civilised” nations could be seen to possess writing, so downplayed the value of message sticks as communication. Others saw them as <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2842145">precursors</a> to alphabetic script or letters.</p>
<p>Message sticks have even been sent through the mail service. During the second world war, an Indigenous soldier sent a message stick home to his family through the military post, once it had been approved by a <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/75888536">mystified government censor</a>. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/362333/original/file-20201008-18-1m3oigw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="Indigenous message stick shows marks and an image of a tall ship." src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/362333/original/file-20201008-18-1m3oigw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/362333/original/file-20201008-18-1m3oigw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=174&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362333/original/file-20201008-18-1m3oigw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=174&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362333/original/file-20201008-18-1m3oigw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=174&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362333/original/file-20201008-18-1m3oigw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=219&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362333/original/file-20201008-18-1m3oigw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=219&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/362333/original/file-20201008-18-1m3oigw.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=219&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A tall ship can be seen on this message stick.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://media.britishmuseum.org/media/Repository/Documents/2014_11/11_9/adeb6781_9ba8_495a_b4cd_a3e000a0d4cc/mid_01572466_001.jpg">© The Trustees of the British Museum</a>, <a class="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">CC BY</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Carrying meaning</h2>
<p>Australia’s First Nations have always been connected through shared kinship systems, histories, Dreamings, values and symbols. This is why the <a href="https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/1359183519858375">signs on message sticks</a> frequently depict common points of reference with rich cultural associations — like landscapes, totemic animals, and ceremonial grounds — that wouldn’t require explanation. </p>
<p>As Indigenous people began to encounter new phenomena like ships, livestock and homesteads these were symbolised on message sticks. Individuals had signatures to guarantee the message came from them and would be addressed to the correct person. </p>
<p><a href="https://www.academia.edu/43834536/A_very_short_reading_guide_to_research_on_Australian_message_sticks">Shared understandings</a> helped ensure a message could be correctly interpreted, even when a messenger was not available to explain it. </p>
<p>In some places, white settlers learned from First Nations peoples how to make message sticks and used them to <a href="https://www.jstor.org/stable/2842145">facilitate diplomatic communications</a> with communities.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/new-coins-celebrate-indigenous-astronomy-the-stars-and-the-dark-spaces-between-them-145923">New coins celebrate Indigenous astronomy, the stars, and the dark spaces between them</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Political messages</h2>
<p>During the period of colonial dispossession, First Nations people have introduced adaptations and innovations. They began to make use of non-native timbers and took advantage of iron tools.</p>
<p>Message sticks also began featuring Western symbols. Alphabet letters, playing card suits and police insignias have been used sparingly. And from the middle of the 20th century, Indigenous envoys began to bring message sticks to government leaders. </p>
<figure>
<iframe src="https://player.vimeo.com/video/356710561" width="500" height="281" frameborder="0" webkitallowfullscreen="" mozallowfullscreen="" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>
<figcaption><span class="caption">Alwyn Doolan walked the entire east coast of Australia to deliver three message sticks to Canberra.</span></figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In 1951, Indigenous men <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/230765279?searchTerm=menzies%20message%20stick">sent a message stick</a> to Robert Menzies to solidify an alliance between the Tiwi islands and Canberra. Gough Whitlam <a href="https://trove.nla.gov.au/newspaper/article/136986866">received one in 1974</a> demanding land rights, and Bob Hawke <a href="https://amsd.clld.org/contributions/amsd_00627">was given one in 1983</a>. </p>
<p>Yolŋu leaders <a href="https://newmatilda.com/2018/04/09/yolnu-leader-gives-prince-charles-treaty-letter-stick-diplomatic-middle-finger/">gave Prince Charles</a> a message stick in 2018 during his visit to Yirrkala, asking him to intervene in Treaty negotiations. </p>
<p>When Alwyn Doolan brought his message sticks to Scott Morrison last year — after a gruelling journey — the Prime Minister defied precedent by <a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/nitv/article/2019/08/16/prime-minister-declines-meet-message-stick-walker-after-8500km-journey">declining to meet with him</a>.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/147674/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Piers Kelly receives funding in the form of a research fellowship from the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Wunyungar does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Pre-Invasion, message sticks were sent between distant communities to maintain diplomatic relations. They demanded acknowledgement and mutual respect.
Piers Kelly, Linguistic anthropologist, University of New England
Wunyungar, Indigenous knowledge bearer, Indigenous Knowledge
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/145535
2020-09-30T20:05:01Z
2020-09-30T20:05:01Z
Introducing the Maliwawa Figures: a previously undescribed rock art style found in Western Arnhem Land
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358491/original/file-20200917-22-1hdlur4.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=46%2C201%2C5129%2C3243&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">A Maliwawa macropod found in the Namunidjbuk clan estate of the Wellington Range.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source"> P. Taçon</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Western Arnhem Land, Northern Territory, has a remarkable range and number of rock art sites, rivalling that of Europe, southern Africa and various parts of Asia. Several thousand sites have been documented and each year new discoveries are made by various research teams working closely with local Aboriginal communities.</p>
<p>Today, <a href="https://doi.org/10.1080/03122417.2020.1818361">in the journal Australian Archaeology</a>, we and colleagues introduce an important previously undescribed rock art style. Consisting of large human figures and animals, the style is primarily found in northwest Arnhem Land, and has been named Maliwawa Figures by senior Traditional Owner Ronald Lamilami.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358492/original/file-20200917-18-1wxeisj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358492/original/file-20200917-18-1wxeisj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358492/original/file-20200917-18-1wxeisj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=848&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358492/original/file-20200917-18-1wxeisj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=848&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358492/original/file-20200917-18-1wxeisj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=848&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358492/original/file-20200917-18-1wxeisj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1066&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358492/original/file-20200917-18-1wxeisj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1066&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358492/original/file-20200917-18-1wxeisj.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1066&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Infographic summarising some of the main features of Maliwawa rock art .</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Infographic: P. Taçon; digital tracing: Fiona Brady</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We recorded 572 Maliwawa paintings at 87 rock shelters over a 130-kilometre east-west distance, from Awunbarna (Mount Borradaile) to the Namunidjbuk clan estate of the Wellington Range, a region home to unique and internationally significant rock art of various types.</p>
<p>Maliwawa Figures consist of red to mulberry naturalistic human and animal forms shaded with stroked lines. Occasionally they are in outline with just a few strokes within. Almost all were painted but there is one drawing.</p>
<p>The figures are often large (over 50 cm high), sometimes life-size, although there are also some small ones (20–50 cm in height). Various lines of evidence suggest the figures most likely date to between 6,000 to 9,400 years of age.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358500/original/file-20200917-18-l3vr3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358500/original/file-20200917-18-l3vr3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358500/original/file-20200917-18-l3vr3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=345&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358500/original/file-20200917-18-l3vr3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=345&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358500/original/file-20200917-18-l3vr3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=345&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358500/original/file-20200917-18-l3vr3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358500/original/file-20200917-18-l3vr3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358500/original/file-20200917-18-l3vr3j.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=433&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Map of Kakadu/Arnhem Land showing the general location of the Awunbarna and Namunidjbuk areas.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Produced by A. Jalandoni; base map by Stamen Design [OpenStreetMap].</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Animal-human relationships</h2>
<p>In the Maliwawa paintings, human figures are frequently depicted with animals, especially <a href="https://www.lexico.com/definition/macropod">macropods</a> (kangaroos and wallabies), and these animal-human relationships appear to be central to the artists’ message. In some instances, animals almost appear to be participating in or watching some human activity. </p>
<p>Another key theme is a male or indeterminate human figure holding an animal, often a snake, or another human figure or an object.</p>
<p>Such scenes are rare in early rock art, not just in Australia but worldwide. They provide a remarkable glimpse into past Aboriginal life and cultural beliefs.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358494/original/file-20200917-16-1ny90it.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358494/original/file-20200917-16-1ny90it.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358494/original/file-20200917-16-1ny90it.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358494/original/file-20200917-16-1ny90it.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358494/original/file-20200917-16-1ny90it.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358494/original/file-20200917-16-1ny90it.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358494/original/file-20200917-16-1ny90it.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358494/original/file-20200917-16-1ny90it.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Scene of two male Maliwawas with ball headdresses reaching down to a shorter indeterminate human figure with a snake behind the male on the right and behind the left male a female and a macropod, Namunidjbuk. An indeterminate human figure with a cone and feather headdress is above.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">P Tacon</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Maliwawa animals are usually in profile. Some macropods are shown in a human-like sitting pose with paws in front, resembling a person playing a piano. Depictions of animal tracks (footprints) and geometric designs are rare.</p>
<p>Macropods, birds, snakes and <a href="https://www.sbs.com.au/news/fish-with-no-stomach-baffles-scientists">longtom</a> fish are the most frequent animal subjects, comprising three quarters of total fauna. But, more generally, mammals are most common. </p>
<p>There are seven depictions of animals long extinct in the Arnhem Land region, consisting of four thylacines and three bilby-like creatures. At one Namunidjbuk site there is a rare depiction of a dugong.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358499/original/file-20200917-14-1mqrgi0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358499/original/file-20200917-14-1mqrgi0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358499/original/file-20200917-14-1mqrgi0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358499/original/file-20200917-14-1mqrgi0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358499/original/file-20200917-14-1mqrgi0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=411&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358499/original/file-20200917-14-1mqrgi0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=517&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358499/original/file-20200917-14-1mqrgi0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=517&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358499/original/file-20200917-14-1mqrgi0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=517&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Digital tracing of panel of three bilby-like animals, Awunbarna.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Digital tracing: Fiona Brady</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>A third of human depictions were classified as male because they have male genitalia depicted. Females, identified because breasts were shown, are rare, comprising only 5% of human depictions. Almost 59% of human figures could not be determined to be either male or female because they lack sex-specific characteristics.</p>
<p>Human figures generally have round-shaped or oval-shaped heads; some have lines on the head suggestive of hair. 30% of human figures are shown with headdresses, of which there are ten different forms. The most common is a ball headdress, followed by oval, cone and feather.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358497/original/file-20200917-18-15n7zfl.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358497/original/file-20200917-18-15n7zfl.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358497/original/file-20200917-18-15n7zfl.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358497/original/file-20200917-18-15n7zfl.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358497/original/file-20200917-18-15n7zfl.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358497/original/file-20200917-18-15n7zfl.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358497/original/file-20200917-18-15n7zfl.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358497/original/file-20200917-18-15n7zfl.JPG?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Large male Maliwawa human figures from an Awunbarna site. The largest male is 1.15 metres wide by 1.95 metres high.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">P Tacon.</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Maliwawa males are usually in profile and often have a bulging stomach above a penis. A few Maliwawa females are also shown with an extended abdomen. </p>
<h2>National significance</h2>
<p>Most Maliwawa Figures are in accessible or visible places at low landscape elevations rather than hidden away, or at shelters high in the landscape. This suggests they were meant to be seen, possibly from some distance. Often, Maliwawa Figures dominate shelter walls with rows of figures in various arrangements.</p>
<p>We first found some of these figures during a survey in 2008-2009 but they became the focus of further field research from 2016 to 2018.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358501/original/file-20200917-22-1aq3tfp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358501/original/file-20200917-22-1aq3tfp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/358501/original/file-20200917-22-1aq3tfp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358501/original/file-20200917-22-1aq3tfp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358501/original/file-20200917-22-1aq3tfp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=900&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358501/original/file-20200917-22-1aq3tfp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358501/original/file-20200917-22-1aq3tfp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/358501/original/file-20200917-22-1aq3tfp.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1131&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Back-to-back Maliwawa macropods in the ‘piano player’ pose, Namuidjbuk.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">P. Tacon</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In Australia, we are spoiled with rock art — paintings, drawings, stencils, prints, petroglyphs (engravings) and even designs made from native beeswax in rock shelters and small caves, on boulders and rock platforms. Often in spectacular and spiritually significant landscapes, rock art remains very important to First Nation communities as a part of living culture.</p>
<p>There are as many as 100,000 sites here, representing tens of thousands of years of artistic activity. But even in 2020, new styles are being identified for the first time. </p>
<p>What if the Maliwawa Figures were in France? Surely, they would be the subject of national pride with different levels of government working together to ensure their protection and researchers endeavouring to better understand and protect them.</p>
<p>We must not allow Australia’s abundance of rock art to lead to a national ambivalence towards its appreciation and protection.</p>
<p>The Maliwawa Figures demonstrate how much more we have to learn from Australia’s early artists. And who knows what else is out there waiting to be found.
</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/145535/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Paul S.C.Taçon receives funding from the Australian Research Council. </span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Sally Kate May receives funding from the Australian Research Council. </span></em></p>
More than 500 paintings at 87 rock shelters provide a remarkable glimpse into past Aboriginal life.
Paul S.C.Taçon, Chair in Rock Art Research and Director of the Place, Evolution and Rock Art Heritage Unit (PERAHU), Griffith University
Sally K. May, Senior Research Fellow, Griffith University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/143683
2020-07-31T06:30:56Z
2020-07-31T06:30:56Z
Talking the talk: fresh Closing the Gap targets require a tailored approach to language
<p>Indigenous languages have been in the news this week. For the first time, an Indigenous language, Ngunnawal, was used for <a href="https://www.canberratimes.com.au/story/6856088/historic-moment-ngunnawal-language-used-to-open-act-assembly-for-first-time/">the acknowledgment of country at the opening of the ACT Legislative Assembly</a>.</p>
<p>And two important reports have been released: the <a href="https://theconversation.com/new-closing-the-gap-targets-will-cover-attachment-to-land-and-culture-143636?">Closing the Gap Agreement</a>
and the <a href="https://www.arts.gov.au/what-we-do/indigenous-arts-and-languages/national-indigenous-languages-report">National Indigenous Language Report</a> (NILR) with linked <a href="https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/handle/1885/186414">qualitative</a> research based on interviews and <a href="https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/handle/1885/186511">quantitative</a> data reports. </p>
<p>Both reports have Indigenous languages at their heart. The agreement lists “Cultures and languages are strong” as the last of 16 new socio-economic targets, and as one of five priority areas. NILR shows what is involved in achieving language targets – but also how Indigenous languages are involved in the other targets too. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/350190/original/file-20200729-17-o19u9t.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/350190/original/file-20200729-17-o19u9t.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/350190/original/file-20200729-17-o19u9t.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/350190/original/file-20200729-17-o19u9t.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/350190/original/file-20200729-17-o19u9t.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=300&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/350190/original/file-20200729-17-o19u9t.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/350190/original/file-20200729-17-o19u9t.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/350190/original/file-20200729-17-o19u9t.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=377&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>The agreement promises: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>By 2031, there is a sustained increase in number and strength of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander languages being spoken.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>We won’t know until implementation plans are released in 12 months’ time how government plans to do this, but action is urgently required given the threats faced by many traditional Indigenous languages. </p>
<p>The agreement co-design process, led by Indigenous peoples and organisations, has launched Indigenous cultures and languages into the centre of Indigenous public policy. Indigenous people have been demanding action to strengthen languages for years. We hope this new initiative will put an end to policies detrimental to Indigenous languages. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/we-have-16-new-closing-the-gap-targets-will-governments-now-do-whats-needed-to-meet-them-143179">We have 16 new Closing the Gap targets. Will governments now do what's needed to meet them?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>More than words</h2>
<p>Stronger Indigenous languages are more than a standalone target. Every policy area needs to consider the language backgrounds of the people affected. No public policy is implemented in silence: speaking, listening, reading and/or writing are always needed for outcomes. So the language backgrounds of Indigenous people must be a prime consideration in the delivery of all policies.</p>
<p>The agreement makes cultural safety a high priority. NILR shows that linguistic safety underpins this. If you can’t receive information in the language you understand best, then you are not safe. </p>
<p>This is most obvious in emergencies, from <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-04-06/cyclone-trevor-translations-ngukurr-panic-nt-police-government/10976520">extreme weather warnings</a> to <a href="https://arts.unimelb.edu.au/research-unit-for-indigenous-language/resources/covid-19-language-resources">COVID-19</a> strategies, communicating instructions in languages people understand is fundamental. It matters just as much when visiting a doctor or attending school.</p>
<h2>Tracking language data</h2>
<p>The third National Indigenous Languages Report was released this week by the federal Department of Infrastructure, Transport, Regional Development and Communications. It contains results from a <a href="https://aiatsis.gov.au/research/research-themes/languages-and-cultural-expression/national-indigenous-languages-report-nilr">survey conducted</a> in 2018-19 by the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies. </p>
<p>NILR emphasises </p>
<blockquote>
<p>building in recognition, respect and support for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander languages across the policy lifecycle, from design, to implementation, to evaluation. </p>
</blockquote>
<p>This goal requires high-quality information about the languages Indigenous people identify with, the languages they speak and the extent to which they speak them. </p>
<p>The agreement is a document filled with detailed data specifications, but is something of a “<a href="http://press-files.anu.edu.au/downloads/press/n2140/pdf/ch05.pdf">data desert</a>” when it comes to Indigenous languages. And yet, this data matters a great deal to Indigenous people. </p>
<p>The language target is less precise than most of the other 15 socio-economic targets. It has no quantified goal, and instead prescribes a “sustained increase”. </p>
<p>The agreement identifies a significant need for “data development” around Indigenous language use, suggesting measures that would require research, development and substantial public funds. This need is strengthened by NILR.</p>
<p>On other measures, disaggregation – or teasing out the detail – is suggested for different geographic, economic and demographic groups. But this has not been suggested for different linguistic groups. </p>
<p>This level of detail is key. If we want services to be effective, service providers must know what languages people speak. Professional services, such as early childhood assessment or guidance for parents, can then be provided in the correct language(s), perhaps through an interpreter.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-state-of-australias-indigenous-languages-and-how-we-can-help-people-speak-them-more-often-109662">The state of Australia's Indigenous languages – and how we can help people speak them more often</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Bringing the data and targets together</h2>
<p>NILR acknowledges the current reporting on Indigenous languages data is inadequate.</p>
<p>First, it explains that “Indigenous languages” are not a simple, one-size-fits-all idea. </p>
<p>There are hundreds of traditional Indigenous languages, spoken to varying extents, but the number of speakers is declining overall. There are new Indigenous languages recognised to varying extents, and the number of speakers is growing, as NILR shows. </p>
<p>In parts of Australia, people are learning their heritage Indigenous languages. In other parts, people are learning English as a “foreign language” (often with little support). Indigenous communities vary across Australia as to their “language ecologies”: which languages people are speaking, to what extent and in what situations. </p>
<p>NILR joins the dots about how languages fit together in Indigenous people’s lives – how they benefit from them, and how policy and services can do better by seeing the whole picture (or <a href="https://link.springer.com/referenceworkentry/10.1007%2F978-0-387-30424-3_219">language ecology</a>). </p>
<p>The approach helps policy makers and service providers more clearly see the roles different languages play in people’s lives. In generalised terms, one of three patterns emerges:</p>
<ul>
<li>places where Indigenous children mostly speak traditional Indigenous languages (and learn standard Australian English)</li>
<li>places where Indigenous children mostly speak new Indigenous languages (and learn standard Australian English and their heritage languages)</li>
<li>places where children speak varieties of English (and learn their heritage languages). </li>
</ul>
<p>NILR and the associated research show how each language ecology might affect the other agreement targets. These include “early childhood education is high quality and culturally appropriate” and “social and emotional wellbeing”. Overall, <a href="https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/handle/1885/186414">qualitative research</a> and <a href="https://openresearch-repository.anu.edu.au/handle/1885/186511">quantitative</a> research shows that speaking an Indigenous language and learning a heritage Indigenous language both have benefits for the well-being of their speakers. But language mismatches between Indigenous people and service providers are detrimental to well-being. </p>
<p>Policies and services are effective when they are attuned to people’s language backgrounds. Making languages strong requires tailored initiatives where communities are speaking Indigenous languages (traditional or new), learning them from older speakers or reviving them from archival material. </p>
<p>We look forward to an approach which brings the practical applications of NILR to help fulfil the aspirations of the agreement.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/indigenous-languages-matter-but-all-is-not-lost-when-they-change-or-even-disappear-127519">Indigenous languages matter – but all is not lost when they change or even disappear</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/143683/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Jane Simpson receives funding from the Australian Research Council, through the ARC Centre of Excellence for the Dynamics of Language (CE140100041). She was part of the Australian National University research team which was funded to contribute to the National Indigenous Languages Report by the Australian Government Department of Communication and the Arts.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Denise Angelo is an associate of the ARC-funded Centre of Excellence for the Dynamics of Language, and a member of the Australian National University research team which contributed to the National Indigenous Languages Report. Her research is supported by an Australian Government Research Training Program (RTP) Scholarship.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Francis Markham has received funding from Commonwealth and state governments agencies to conduct research in the area on Indigenous public policy. He was part of the Australian National University research team which was funded to contribute to the National Indigenous Languages Report.</span></em></p>
Strong language and culture is listed among the fresh Closing the Gap targets. But, as the latest research on speakers and learners shows, language is fundamental to well-being across the board.
Jane Helen Simpson, Chair of Indigenous Linguistics and Deputy Director of the ARC Centre of Excellence for the Dynamics of Language, Australian National University
Denise Angelo, PhD Student, Australian National University
Francis Markham, Research Fellow, College of Arts and Social Sciences, Australian National University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/141697
2020-07-20T06:59:45Z
2020-07-20T06:59:45Z
Environment Minister Sussan Ley is in a tearing hurry to embrace nature law reform – and that’s a worry
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/348306/original/file-20200720-63094-b11tp2.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=791%2C383%2C4767%2C3317&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Graeme Samuel, left and Environment Minister Sussan Ley.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Lukas Coch/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Morrison government on Monday released a long-awaited <a href="https://epbcactreview.environment.gov.au">interim review</a> into Australia’s federal environment law. The ten-year review found Australia’s natural environment is declining and under increasing threat. The current environmental trajectory is “unsustainable” and the law “ineffective”.</p>
<p>The report, by businessman Graeme Samuel, called for fundamental reform of the law, know as the Environmental Protection and Biodiversity Conservation (EPBC) Act. The Act, Samuel says:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>[…] does not enable the Commonwealth to play its role in protecting and conserving environmental matters that are important for the nation. It is not fit to address current or future environmental challenges.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Samuel confirmed the health of Australia’s environment is in dire straits, and proposes many good ways to address this. </p>
<p>Worryingly though, Environment Minister Sussan Ley immediately seized on proposed reforms that seem to suit her government’s agenda – notably, streamlining the environmental approvals process – and will start working towards them. This is before the review has been finalised, and before public comment on the draft has been received.</p>
<p>This rushed response is very concerning. I was a federal environment official for 13 years, and from 2007 to 2012 was responsible for administering and reforming the Act. I know the huge undertaking involved in reform of the scale Samuel suggests. The stakes are far too high to risk squandering this once-a-decade reform opportunity for quick wins.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/344713/original/file-20200630-103657-147sr84.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/344713/original/file-20200630-103657-147sr84.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344713/original/file-20200630-103657-147sr84.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344713/original/file-20200630-103657-147sr84.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344713/original/file-20200630-103657-147sr84.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344713/original/file-20200630-103657-147sr84.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344713/original/file-20200630-103657-147sr84.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A dead koala outside Ipswich. Federal environment laws have failed to protect threatened species.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Jim Dodrill/The Wilderness Society</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/let-there-be-no-doubt-blame-for-our-failing-environment-laws-lies-squarely-at-the-feet-of-government-141482">Let there be no doubt: blame for our failing environment laws lies squarely at the feet of government</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>‘Fundamental reform’ needed: Samuel</h2>
<p>The EPBC Act is designed to protect and conserve Australia’s most important environmental and heritage assets – most commonly, threatened plant and animal species. </p>
<p>Samuel’s diagnosis is on the money: the current trajectory of environmental decline is clearly unsustainable. And reform is long overdue – although unlike Samuel, I would put the blame less on the Act itself and more on government failings, such as a badly under-resourced federal environment department.</p>
<p>Samuel also hits the sweet spot in terms of a solution, at least in principle. National environmental standards, legally binding on the states and others, would switch the focus from the development approvals process to environmental outcomes. In essence, the Commonwealth would regulate the states for environmental results, rather than proponents for (mostly) process.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/a-major-scorecard-gives-the-health-of-australias-environment-less-than-1-out-of-10-133444">A major scorecard gives the health of Australia's environment less than 1 out of 10</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Samuel’s recommendation for a quantum shift to a “single source of truth” for environmental data and information is also welcome. Effective administration of the Act requires good information, but this has proven hard to deliver. For example the much-needed National Plan for Environmental Information, established in 2010, was never properly resourced and later abolished.</p>
<p>Importantly, Samuel also called for a new standard for “best practice Indigenous engagement”, ensuring traditional knowledge and views are fully valued in decision-making. The lack of protection of Indigenous cultural assets has been under scrutiny of late following <a href="https://theconversation.com/rio-tinto-just-blasted-away-an-ancient-aboriginal-site-heres-why-that-was-allowed-139466">Rio Tinto’s destruction</a> of the ancient Indigenous site Juukan caves. Reform in this area is long overdue.</p>
<p>And notably, Samuel says environmental restoration is required to enable future development to be sustainable. Habitat, he says “needs to grow to be able to support both development and a healthy environment”.</p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/291419/original/file-20190909-175691-sr3503.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/291419/original/file-20190909-175691-sr3503.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/291419/original/file-20190909-175691-sr3503.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/291419/original/file-20190909-175691-sr3503.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/291419/original/file-20190909-175691-sr3503.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/291419/original/file-20190909-175691-sr3503.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/291419/original/file-20190909-175691-sr3503.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Many in the public are concerned at the state of Australia’s environment.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dean Lewins/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Streamlined approvals</h2>
<p>Samuel pointed to duplication between the EPBC Act and state and territory regulations. He said efforts have been made to streamline these laws but they “have not gone far enough”. The result, he says, is “slow and cumbersome regulation” resulting in significant costs for business, with little environmental benefit.</p>
<p>This finding would have been music to the ears of the Morrison government. From the outset, the government framed Samuel’s review around a narrative of cutting the “green tape” that it believed unnecessarily held up development. </p>
<p><a href="https://theconversation.com/mr-morrison-you-can-cut-green-tape-without-harming-nature-but-itll-take-money-and-gumption-140732">In June</a> the government announced fast-tracked approvals for 15 major infrastructure projects in response to the COVID-19 economic slowdown. And on Monday, Ley indicated the government will prioritise the new national environmental standards, including further streamlining approval processes.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/environment-laws-have-failed-to-tackle-the-extinction-emergency-heres-the-proof-122936">Environment laws have failed to tackle the extinction emergency. Here's the proof</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Here’s where the danger lies. The government wants to introduce legislation in August. Ley said “prototype” environmental standards proposed by Samuel will be introduced at the same time. This is well before Samuel’s final report, due in October. </p>
<p>I believe this timeframe is unwise, and wildly ambitious. </p>
<p>Even though Samuel proposes a two-stage process, with interim standards as the first step, these initial standards risk being too vague. And once they’re in place, states may resist moving to a stricter second stage. </p>
<p>To take one example, the prototype standards in Samuel’s report say approved development projects must not have unacceptable impacts on on matters of national environmental significance. He says more work is needed on the definition of “unacceptable”, adding this requires “granular and specific guidance”.</p>
<p>I believe this requires standards being tailored to different ecosystems across our wide and diverse landscapes, and being specific enough to usefully guide the assessment of any given project. This is an enormous task which cannot be rushed. And if Samuel’s prototype were adopted on an interim basis, states would be free, within some limits, to decide what is “unacceptable”. </p>
<p>It’s also worth noting that the national standards model will need significant financial resources. Samuel’s model would see the Commonwealth doing fewer individual project approvals and less on-ground compliance. However, it would enter a new and complex world of developing environmental standards. </p>
<figure class="align-center ">
<img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/344718/original/file-20200630-103636-142gu8n.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=3%2C0%2C1274%2C854&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/344718/original/file-20200630-103636-142gu8n.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344718/original/file-20200630-103636-142gu8n.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344718/original/file-20200630-103636-142gu8n.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344718/original/file-20200630-103636-142gu8n.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344718/original/file-20200630-103636-142gu8n.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/344718/original/file-20200630-103636-142gu8n.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px">
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The government has said little about improving the environment on the ground.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Eric Vanderduys/BirdLife Australia</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>More haste, less speed</h2>
<p>Samuel’s interim report will go out for public comment before the final report is delivered in October. Ley concedes further consultation is needed on some issues. But in other areas, the government is not willing to wait. After years of substantive policy inaction it seems the government wants to set a new land-speed record for environmental reform. </p>
<p>The government’s fixation with cutting “green tape” should not unduly colour its reform direction. By rushing efforts to streamline approvals, the government risks creating a jumbled process with, once again, poor environmental outcomes.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/141697/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Peter Burnett is a former senior official with the Commonwealth Department of the Environment. </span></em></p>
The Morrison government has seized on environment law reform proposed on Monday. I was a federal environment official for 13 years – and I know these things cannot be rushed.
Peter Burnett, Honorary Associate Professor, ANU College of Law, Australian National University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/137247
2020-04-28T05:19:56Z
2020-04-28T05:19:56Z
Together we rise: East Arnhem Land artists respond to COVID-19 with the gift of music
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/330653/original/file-20200427-145499-y9vme2.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=30%2C42%2C4007%2C2094&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu sings. </span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://www.facebook.com/VisitEastArnhemLand/photos/a.311490989046835/1431484573714132/?type=3&theater">Facebook/Yolŋu Radio</a></span></figcaption></figure><p>Recent weeks have been a blur of livestreams as politicians and chief medical officers have taken to Facebook and YouTube to announce Australia’s emergency measures to contain the COVID-19 pandemic. </p>
<p>But on Saturday evening, I eagerly logged onto Facebook, along with more than 50,000 others, to enjoy a livestream of an entirely different kind. It was the first in a series of four <a href="https://www.eastarnhemland.com.au/east-arnhem-live">East Arnhem Live</a> music concerts to be streamed weekly.</p>
<p>It not only offers a welcome respite from the social isolation many Australians are now feeling, but it is also an ingenious way for Arnhem Land’s prolific musicians to share their music with audiences around the world.</p>
<h2>On location</h2>
<p>The Northern Territory’s Arnhem Land is home to dozens of remote Indigenous communities, including the <a href="https://doi-org.proxy.library.adelaide.edu.au/10.1111/1467-9655.00024">Yolŋu communities</a> in the far northeast. While there are presently no known cases of COVID-19 in Arnhem Land, the region’s economic stability relies heavily on artists’ income, which is greatly supported by local tourism during the dry season and international touring to festivals all year round.</p>
<p>Streamed on Saturday, April 24 and still available <a href="https://www.eastarnhemland.com.au/east-arnhem-live">online</a>, the first East Arnhem Live concert featured singer <a href="https://www.eastarnhemland.com.au/blog/eight-east-arnhem-land-artists-to-add-to-your-playlist">Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu</a>, the current frontman of rock band Yothu Yindi, with Arian Pearson on acoustic guitar. To showcase Arnhem Land’s natural beauty, the concert was filmed on location at <a href="https://goo.gl/maps/BgrvMi9dobH3478Z8">Gälaru (East Woody Beach)</a> against the sun setting over the Arafura Sea, and incorporated stunning aerial cinematography of Dhamitjinya (East Woody Island).</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=248&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/330654/original/file-20200427-145518-1lrkrwv.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=312&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">East Arnhem Live with Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu and Arian Pearson.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Facebook</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>At a length of four songs over 14 minutes, it was a tantalisingly brief event that left me wanting more. It stirred deep nostalgia for my own experiences in Arnhem Land over the past 25 years and long collaborations with local musicians there.</p>
<p>Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu’s four-song set exemplified the very best of Yolŋu songwriting, building significantly on the heavy traditional influences of the style developed by Yothu Yindi around 1990. The influence of Manikay, the ancestral song tradition performed by Yolŋu communities in their public ceremonies, is ever-present in Yirrŋa’s own songs. This is evidenced by the <em>bi<u>l</u>ma</em> (paired sticks) he played throughout the concert.</p>
<p>With no more than a few hundred senior Yolŋu Manikay singers alive today, the present threat of COVID-19 brings into sharp relief the rarity and uniqueness of Manikay as a quintessentially Australian musical tradition. This is indeed a national treasure of global significance that deserves to be better supported and cherished in Australia and globally.</p>
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<h2>An anthem for our time</h2>
<p>The concert’s opening song was Sweet Arnhem Land, a balladic ode to the region’s immense beauty that includes a direct quote from the Manikay repertoire of Yirrŋa’s clan, the Gumatj. This Manikay quotation references the great ancestral hunter, Ganbulapula, and its melody should be instantly recognisable to anyone who has attended the Garma Festival and experienced public ceremonial repertoire being performed there by the Gumatj clan.</p>
<p>The second song was a cover of Kind of Life, which was first released by Yothu Yindi on the 1991 Tribal Voice album. It was a fitting homage to earlier pioneers of popular music from Arnhem Land, such as Wi<u>t</u>iyana Marika and the late Mandawuy Yunupiŋu AC of Yothu Yindi, who were the first to gain global acclaim.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/my-favourite-album-yothu-yindis-tribal-voice-83643">My favourite album: Yothu Yindi's Tribal Voice</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>The third song, We Rise, is nothing short of an anthemic triumph. Its stirring sentiment of solidarity in the face of great change and adversity will readily resonate with many Australians at this challenging time. </p>
<p>Yirrŋa’s final song, Ba<u>n</u>umbirr (Morning Star), pays respect to his mother’s clan, the Rirratjiŋu. Once again, it includes a direct quote from traditional Manikay repertoire, which this time comes from the Rirratjiŋu clan’s iconic Morning Star song series.</p>
<p>With more than 53,000 views on Facebook since Saturday night, this first East Arnhem Live concert has been an outstanding success. While I greatly look forward to the day when I can fly to Arnhem Land again to see dear friends and hear music there in person, this concert series is a most welcome substitute that offers an unexpectedly intimate and poignant experience. And it shares the great beauty of Yolŋu song against the backdrop of the natural environment from which it sprung.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/friday-essay-how-indigenous-songs-recount-deep-histories-of-trade-between-australia-and-southeast-asia-123867">Friday essay: how Indigenous songs recount deep histories of trade between Australia and Southeast Asia</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Tradition and innovation</h2>
<p>The Yolŋu people have long engaged with new technologies while retaining their own sense of autonomy. This latest innovation in streaming concerts via social media platforms is in keeping with their pre-colonial exchanges with visiting Asian seafarers. </p>
<p>It was this same longitudinal dialogue between tradition and innovation that made the music of bands like Yothu Yindi possible.</p>
<p>Musicians Yirrŋa Yunupiŋu and Arian Pearson are to be congratulated heartily for this first East Arnhem Live concert, as are the series’ presenters at ARDS Aboriginal Corporation and Yolŋu Radio, and sponsors at Rirratjiŋu Aboriginal Corporation and Developing East Arnhem. </p>
<p>The next three Saturday nights promise to be equally special with unmissable concerts by the Andrew Gurruwiwi Band on May 2 and Yirrmal Marika on May 9, and an unprecedented closing stream of traditional ceremony by the Rirratjiŋu clan on May 16.</p>
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<hr>
<p><em>The next three East Arnhem Live concerts will stream on the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/VisitEastArnhemLand/">East Arnhem Land Facebook page</a> at 6.30 pm ACST on Saturday, May 2, May 9 and May 16.</em></p>
<p><em>Charles Darwin University’s <a href="http://learnline.cdu.edu.au/yolngustudies/gupaappdownload.html">Gupapuyŋu App</a> provides a Yolŋu language pronunciation guide that is free to download.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/137247/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Readers are advised that this article names a deceased founding member of Yothu Yindi with all traditional Yolŋu mortuary restrictions having been lifted by his family long ago. Aaron Corn receives funding from the Australian Research Council and is a Director of the not-for-profit National Recording Project for Indigenous Performance in Australia. Aaron Corn explores the music of Yothu Yindi in his book, Reflections & Voices (2009), published by Sydney University Press.</span></em></p>
A series of four live-streamed concerts from Arnhem Land offers a welcome break from bad news and a way for Indigenous musicians to share their talents with the world.
Aaron Corn, Professor, Elder Conservatorium of Music · Director, Centre for Aboriginal Studies in Music (CASM) · Director, National Centre for Aboriginal Language and Music Studies (NCALMS), Faculty of Arts, University of Adelaide
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/123919
2019-11-05T18:58:02Z
2019-11-05T18:58:02Z
Churches have legal rights in Australia. Why not sacred trees?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/299815/original/file-20191101-102224-1otykcz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=10%2C125%2C2385%2C1325&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The traditional owners have won widespread support for their fight to protect Djab Wurrung Country and their sacred trees.</span> <span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://dwembassy.com/numbers-flock-to-djab-wurrung-embassy/">Djab Wurrung Embassy</a></span></figcaption></figure><p><em>This article is part of a <a href="https://theconversation.com/au/topics/anzsee-78179">series</a> on rebalancing the human–nature interactions that are central to the study and practice of ecological economics, which is the focus of the <a href="https://anzsee.org.au/2019-anzsee-conference/">2019 ANZSEE Conference</a> in Melbourne later this month.</em></p>
<hr>
<p><a href="https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/we-all-have-to-compromise-western-highway-works-to-start-in-days-20191003-p52xa3.html">Work has resumed</a> on widening the Western Highway near Ararat, Victoria, which will destroy thousands of trees. This includes around 250 sacred trees, some up to 800 years old. These trees are a <a href="https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2019/july/1561989600/sophie-cunningham/djab-wurrung-birthing-tree">living heritage of deep cultural significance and practice</a> for the Djab Wurrung traditional owners.</p>
<p>In Australia, corporations such as Coles and Westpac and even some churches operate as legal entities entitled to most of the rights and responsibilities that individuals possess. Why don’t the Djab Wurrung sacred trees have legal standing? </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/what-kind-of-state-values-a-freeways-heritage-above-the-heritage-of-our-oldest-living-culture-122195">What kind of state values a freeway's heritage above the heritage of our oldest living culture?</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>In New Zealand, the <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-03-16/nz-whanganui-river-gets-legal-status-as-person-after-170-years/8358434">Whanganui River</a> now has it. Even in Victoria <a href="http://www.legislation.vic.gov.au/Domino/Web_Notes/LDMS/PubStatbook.nsf/51dea49770555ea6ca256da4001b90cd/DD1ED871D7DF8661CA2581A700103BF0/$FILE/17-049aa%20authorised.pdf">legislation to protect the Yarra River</a> recognises the connection of the traditional owners to the river and surrounding land, Birrarung Country. </p>
<h2>It’s not just people who have legal standing</h2>
<p>Australian law has long accorded legal standing to other entities such as businesses. Under the <a href="http://www5.austlii.edu.au/au/legis/cth/consol_act/ca2001172/">Corporations Act 2001</a>, a corporation is a legal entity that can enter contracts, lend and borrow money, sue and be sued, hire employees, own assets, and pay taxes. Over the past few decades corporate rights have expanded, and the process of incorporation has been simplified.</p>
<p>Corporations exist now as private enterprises for churches, not-for-profits and lobby groups. A corporation is separate and distinct from its owners, which minimises the risk for stakeholders and investors. It operates as a living person who can assert their rights in relation to economic (self)-interest. </p>
<p>The logic of <em>Homo economicus</em> and the utilitarian maximisation of profit is central to settler societies such as Australia’s. The settler colonial approach to nature decouples people from country. There is a hierarchy of rights that favours and reinforces settler property rights in the quest for new towns, farms, fences, and transportation lines. </p>
<p>If trees had rights this would be very costly for development. Trees are seen as resources, classified according to their utilitarian value. </p>
<h2>Who speaks for the trees?</h2>
<p>In Australia, the law protects trees if they are considered threatened, endangered or vulnerable. Indigenous plant species, for example, may be protected under the <a href="https://www.environment.gov.au/epbc/about">Environment Protection and Biodiversity Conservation Act 1999</a>. </p>
<p>Vegetation may be protected more broadly as part of the public estate (such as in national parks, for instance). Native vegetation on private land may also be protected to conserve biodiversity and preserve habitat for endangered species. </p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/299816/original/file-20191101-102228-1ba7h2u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/299816/original/file-20191101-102228-1ba7h2u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/299816/original/file-20191101-102228-1ba7h2u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=574&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299816/original/file-20191101-102228-1ba7h2u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=574&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299816/original/file-20191101-102228-1ba7h2u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=574&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299816/original/file-20191101-102228-1ba7h2u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=721&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299816/original/file-20191101-102228-1ba7h2u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=721&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/299816/original/file-20191101-102228-1ba7h2u.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=721&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Recognition of the role of traditional owners, which includes protection of Country, is a key issue of environmental justice in Australia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><a class="source" href="https://dwembassy.com/gallery/">Djab Wurrung Embassy</a></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Federal and state government laws may protect “significant” trees through heritage and/or Aboriginal heritage legislation. Or they may not.</p>
<p>The Djab Wurrung have challenged both state and federal government decisions against heritage protection for the sacred trees and their surrounds. <a href="https://dwembassy.com/">Activists</a> have set up camp to protest the destruction of the trees – grandmother <a href="https://www.themonthly.com.au/issue/2019/july/1561989600/sophie-cunningham/djab-wurrung-birthing-tree">birthing trees</a>, their companion grandfather trees, and <a href="https://www.theage.com.au/national/victoria/like-losing-my-son-why-trees-threatened-by-western-hwy-are-so-sacred-20190824-p52kcq.html">directions trees</a>. </p>
<p>They reject the rationale that supports the widening of a freeway over the preservation of significant living cultural heritage and <a href="https://www.change.org/p/daniel-andrews-protect-sacred-djapwurrung-birthing-trees-from-expansion-of-the-western-hwy-by-vicroads">ask for its protection</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p>We ask that this impending destruction as part of VicRoads works be halted immediately, more appropriate respect for the concerns of the Djab Wuurung community be taken into consideration, and that the trees and the site are protected.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Should trees have legal standing?</h2>
<p>In New Zealand, the Whanganui River, which flows 145 kilometres to the sea in the central North Island, <a href="https://www.nationalgeographic.com/culture/2019/04/maori-river-in-new-zealand-is-a-legal-person/">now has legal standing</a>. The law recognises the Maori Iwi people’s sacred relationship with land and water. </p>
<p>Through this <a href="http://www.legislation.govt.nz/act/public/2014/0051/latest/DLM6183601.html">legislation</a> the Whanganui River is <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/sundayextra/new-zealand-granting-rivers-and-forests-same-rights-as-citizens/7816456">recognised as a person</a> when it comes to the law. The river has “its own legal identity with all the corresponding rights, duties and liabilities of a legal person”, the minister for Treaty of Waitangi negotiations <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/mar/16/new-zealand-river-granted-same-legal-rights-as-human-being">said</a>: </p>
<blockquote>
<p><a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-03-16/nz-whanganui-river-gets-legal-status-as-person-after-170-years/8358434">This legislation recognises</a> the deep spiritual connection between the Whanganui Iwi and its ancestral river and creates a strong platform for the future of Whanganui River.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>Similar “<a href="https://www.earthlaws.org.au/what-is-earth-jurisprudence/rights-of-nature/">rights of nature</a>” laws, which change the legal status of nature, exist in Ecuador, Bolivia, Colombia, India, and Uganda, to name a few.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/three-rivers-are-now-legally-people-but-thats-just-the-start-of-looking-after-them-74983">Three rivers are now legally people – but that's just the start of looking after them</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Djab Wurrung Dreaming is entitled to protection</h2>
<p>Why isn’t Australia embracing “<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-giving-legal-rights-to-nature-could-help-reduce-toxic-algae-blooms-in-lake-erie-115351">rights of nature</a>” legislation? Djab Wurrung trees, and the ancient dreaming cultural landscape of which they are part, need protection.</p>
<p>Communities are starting to advocate for the rights of nature to exist, thrive and evolve. Under the <a href="http://www.legislation.vic.gov.au/Domino/Web_Notes/LDMS/PubStatbook.nsf/51dea49770555ea6ca256da4001b90cd/DD1ED871D7DF8661CA2581A700103BF0/$FILE/17-049aa%20authorised.pdf">Yarra River (Wilip-gin Birrarung murron) Act</a>, while the river’s legal status hasn’t changed, there is progressive recognition of the connection between the traditional owners and the river. As the preamble to the act <a href="http://classic.austlii.edu.au/au/legis/vic/consol_act/yrpbma2017554/preamble.html">states</a>:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>This Act recognises the intrinsic connection of the traditional owners to the Yarra River and its Country and further recognises them as the custodians of the land and waterway which they call Birrarung.</p>
</blockquote>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/new-law-finally-gives-voice-to-the-yarra-rivers-traditional-owners-83307">New law finally gives voice to the Yarra River's traditional owners</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Such Indigenous perspectives, developed on Country in holistic ways incorporating lore/law, have a particularly valuable contribution to make to ecological economies. </p>
<p>We need far better legal recognition of the role of traditional owners, which includes cultural and environmental heritage protection. In the current political environment, deeply locked into a culture and mindset of economic growth and property ownership, “you’d have to be dreaming”.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/123919/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Wendy Steele receives funding from the Australian Research Council</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Michelle Maloney is Co-Founder and Director of the Australian Earth Laws Alliance and the New Economy Network Australia.</span></em></p>
Laws in other countries recognise ‘rights of nature’. But even trees sacred to Indigenous Australian communities have no special protection.
Wendy Steele, Associate Professor, Centre for Urban Research and Urban Futures Enabling Capability Platform, RMIT University
Michelle Maloney, Adjunct Senior Fellow, Law Futures Centre, Griffith University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/122617
2019-09-05T18:50:14Z
2019-09-05T18:50:14Z
Friday essay: lessons from stone – Indigenous thinking and the Law
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290607/original/file-20190903-175705-bbfa3t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">The sacred site of Uluru. In our Law we know that rocks are sentient and contain spirit. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dan peled/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>In Dreaming stories, Emu is often a narcissist who damages social relationships. These stories teach us about the protocols for living sustainably, and warn us about unsustainable behaviours. The basic protocols of Aboriginal society, like most societies, include respecting and hearing all points of view in a yarn. </p>
<p>Narcissists demand this right, then refuse to allow other points of view on the grounds that any other opinion somehow infringes their freedom of speech or is offensive. </p>
<p>They destroy the basic social contracts of reciprocity (which allow people to build a reputation of generosity based on sharing to ensure ongoing connectedness and support), shattering these frameworks of harmony with a few words of nasty gossip. They apply double standards and break down systems of give and take until every member of a social group becomes isolated, lost in a Darwinian struggle for power and dwindling resources that destroys everything. Then they move on to another place, another group. Feel free to extrapolate this pattern globally and historically.</p>
<p>We have stories for this behaviour, memorial stones scattered along songlines throughout the landscape, victims and transgressors transformed into rock following epic struggles to stand for all time as cautionary tales. Clancy McKellar, a Wangkumarra Songman, took me to a site where three brothers who had kidnapped women were punished and turned to stone.</p>
<p>All over that place in Tibooburra the red rocks are people turned to stone for breaking the Law or messing around too much with weather modification rituals. There is Law and knowledge of Law in stones. All Law-breaking comes from that first evil thought, “I am greater-than,” that original sin of placing yourself above the land or above other people.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290626/original/file-20190903-175696-1bepnru.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Red Rocks at Tibooburra.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>In our traditional systems of Law we remember, however, that everyone is an idiot from time to time. Punishment is harsh and swift, but afterwards there is no criminal record, no grudge against the transgressor. Perpetrators are only criminals until they are punished, and then they may be respected again and begin afresh to make a positive contribution to the group.</p>
<p>In this way, people will not lie and shift blame or avoid punishment by twisting rules to escape accountability. They can look forward to a clean slate and therefore be willing and equal participants in their own punishment and transformation, which is a learning process more than anything else.</p>
<p>This is perhaps something of value to be taken from our stone stories to make justice systems more effective and sustainable today. Those old criminals in stone all over this country are not despised figures, but respected entities who received their punishment and are now revered in their roles of keeping the Law. If we respect them and hear their stories, they can tell us how to live together better.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/explainer-the-seasonal-calendars-of-indigenous-australia-88471">Explainer: the seasonal 'calendars' of Indigenous Australia</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>Albino boy</h2>
<p>But I don’t know very much about rocks. I feel more at home on open savannah and dry sclerophyll bushlands, and my Story Place has only one stone, which moves around of its own accord and so is in a different position every time you go there. It arrived from Asia, carried by a cyclone, and never quite settled down to live slowly like other rocks. So I need to yarn with somebody who really understands the way stone works. As usual, I seek the most insightful knowledge in the most marginalised point of view. I talk to a young Tasmanian Aboriginal boy called Max.</p>
<p>Max has silvery white hair and alabaster skin. He looks and talks like he’d be more at home riding a dragon than a stock horse. He’s a proper nerd, memorising hundreds of digits of pi for no particular reason, thinking his martial arts skills are much better than they really are, and carrying around an encyclopaedic knowledge of elves and hobbits and superheroes. He can also write songs in his ancestral language that make me cry.</p>
<figure class="align-right zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=458&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290603/original/file-20190903-175714-1wigy69.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=575&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Max.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We’ve spent a lot of time sparring in a traditional style that was once done with stone knives. The rules of engagement are that you can only cut your opponent on the arms, shoulders or back (extremely difficult to do) and — here’s the kicker — at the end of the fight the winner must get cut up the same as the loser, so that nobody can walk away with a grudge. </p>
<p>It’s hard enough to cut somebody on the back with a stone knife when they’re trying to do the same to you, but it’s even harder when you know that every time you cut them you’re really just cutting yourself.</p>
<p>In our yarns following these sessions we decided this kind of combat forces you to see your enemy’s point of view, and by the end of it you can no longer be opponents because you’re connected by mutual respect and understanding. More lessons from stone — but how to apply these today? Sounds like a good opportunity for a thought experiment.</p>
<p>I guess if you wanted to take a contemporary economy that is dependent on perpetual war and try to make it sustainable, you could start by applying similar rules of engagement. But in the stone-knife model, enemies are a non-renewable resource and eventually you would run out of them. It would not be sustainable at all for the war machine if everybody ended up respecting all points of view. </p>
<p>Perhaps the transferable wisdom here is simply that most young men need something a little meatier than mindfulness workshops to curtail the terrifying narcissism that overtakes them from the moment their balls drop. Maybe then they won’t grow up to be the men who start wars in the first place.</p>
<p>This brings us back to that foundational flaw, that Luciferian lie: “I am greater than you; you are lesser than me.” Because his appearance does not match some people’s idea of his cultural identity, Max faces abusive encounters grounded in that foundational flaw daily. His identity is constantly questioned by both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people who place themselves in a greater-than position and get a little thrill out of pronouncing judgement on his existence. Max reflects on these encounters, deciding that these people lack their own authentic identities and therefore can only find comfort in assaulting his.</p>
<p>Max may not know everything about his lineage or his culture, both of which were catastrophically disrupted by large-scale genocide, but he knows who he is, and the
fragments of cultural knowledge he carries have integrity and value. He applies the pattern in those fragments to every aspect of his life.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>I don’t know what I’d be if I didn’t have my identity, because I haven’t really known a life without it. I can’t discern parts that are Indigenous and parts that are not because all of my actions are Indigenous — the way I move through the world, my social interactions, my way of thinking about anything. It bleeds through you no matter what.</p>
</blockquote>
<p>When Max recites a hundred digits of pi he is not stepping outside of his identity; he is singing a pattern of creation from north to south. He does not need to have an Elder’s level of knowledge to do this. He needs only to perceive the pattern in what he does know.</p>
<p>Keepers of knowledge see him behaving in this way and know he is ready to be responsible for additional knowledge, so pass on story to him. This is how Indigenous Knowledge works.</p>
<h2>Strong no matter what</h2>
<p>Max teaches me about rocks, because Tasmanian people have a particular connection to rocks.</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Stones to me are the objects that parallel all life, more so than trees or mortal things because stones are almost immortal. They know things learned over deep time. Stone represents earth, tools and spirit; it conveys meaning through its use and through its resilience to the elements. At the same time it ages, cracking and eroding as time wears it down, but it is still there, filled with energy and spirit.</p>
</blockquote>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290475/original/file-20190902-175682-1gsehn1.png?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The Albino Boy sacred site: a massive complex of carved standing stones in north west New South Wales.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Author provided</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>We yarn about the sentience of stones and the ancient Greek mistake of identifying “dead matter” as opposed to living matter, limiting for centuries to come the potential of western thought when attempting to define things like consciousness and self-organising systems such as galaxies. They viewed space as lifeless and empty between stars; our own stories represented those dark areas as living country, based on observed effects of attraction from those places on celestial bodies. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/how-ancient-aboriginal-star-maps-have-shaped-australias-highway-network-55952">How ancient Aboriginal star maps have shaped Australia's highway network</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Theories of dead matter and empty space meant that western science came late to discoveries of what they now call “dark matter”, finding that those areas of “dead and empty” space actually contain most of the matter in the universe.</p>
<p>This brings us back to Elder of the Nyoongar people, Uncle Noel Nannup’s, creation story of when Emu went nuts with narcissism and demanded to become the boss of creation. In that story, the pre-creation reality was that space was solid: it sat heavily upon the ground, crushing everything that attempted to come into being. Earth and sky had to be separated, the Ancestors lifting up the heavens physically. </p>
<p>Sky country is seen in our stories as tangible, having mass, in a way that reveals an understanding of dark matter. All that celestial territory is in constant communication with us, exerting forces upon us and even exchanging matter in the form of rocks crashing through our atmosphere. Our stories show our ancient understanding of the way asteroids form craters, a realisation that only entered scientific knowledge a few short decades ago.</p>
<p>Max and I yarn about how our knowledge of these things cannot have always been unique to our culture alone, as the ancient names for constellations are often the same as ours throughout the world — the seven sisters, the two brothers, the eagle, the hunter. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=398&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290604/original/file-20190903-175696-6rhw7v.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=500&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Sylvia Ken, winner of the 2019 Wynne Prize, with her painting of the Seven Sisters at the Art Gallery of NSW in May.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Peter Rae/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>These are global stories and systems of knowledge that must have once been common to all people. We think something terrible must have happened in the north to make people forget, causing science to have to start all over again from scratch rather than building on what went before. What could this cataclysm have been?</p>
<p>I imagine the Black Death couldn’t have helped, but I suspect it began earlier than that. I think the Emu deception got out of hand somewhere and spread, causing more and more people to think themselves greater than the land, greater than others, greater than the women who hold our lives in their hands and bellies. Whatever it is, this cataclysm is growing and I wonder how we can stand against it.</p>
<p>Max responds:</p>
<blockquote>
<p>Stone teaches us that we should be strong no matter what tries to crack us or wear us down, keeping an unbreakable core through your culture and your beliefs. The majority of this earth is rock, and while water and plants make up its surface, the body of the earth, the part that keeps it all together, is rock. </p>
<p>You can have life and creation but it will all crumble without a solid base, same with society, companies, relationships, identities, knowledge, almost anything both tangible and intangible. Like those forests and trees sitting as a skin over the rocks of the earth — without that strength inside, without that stone, it would crumble.</p>
</blockquote>
<h2>Uluru rocks</h2>
<p>Thinking about the shape of the world Max describes and the thin skin around it, I reflect on the physics of our creation stories and the way rocks wear away over time into balls. </p>
<p>I perceive a pattern in the universe whereby the most efficient shape for holding matter together is a sphere. I might say to the growing numbers of flat-earth theorists out there, “Blow me a flat bubble and I’ll consider your theory.” But that would be placing myself in a greater-than position, so I need to check myself and pay attention to them, remembering that there is always value in marginal viewpoints.</p>
<p>So I listen to them online and realise that the sphere is not the final shape of this creation process. Our own galaxy began as a sphere and flattened into a disc and the earth is gradually flattening itself too, as it spins like a lump of clay on a wheel. It’s only flattened by just over 20 kilometres at the poles so far, but it’s getting there. It’s a good thing I didn’t dismiss the flat-earthers out of hand, otherwise I might never have understood that properly.</p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=918&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1153&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1153&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/290470/original/file-20190902-175700-1i4lm62.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1153&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>But what use could come from that kind of thinking? Well, thought experiment might yield a few applications. Packaging, for example, might make more efficient use of space and resources if we considered that you can get a hell of a lot more into a small sphere than a big box. </p>
<p>But then what would stop those spheres rolling off the shelves? The flat-earthers resolve this — just squash the spheres down a bit. Thank you, flat-earthers. That innovation could save a bit of landfill, buy us a little time.</p>
<p>Max thinks it will take a bigger shift in thinking to stave off planetary destruction, that we need to learn more about respect from the stones. I agree — the understanding that we are no greater or lesser than a rock would certainly change things if a critical mass of people all came to it at once. </p>
<p>Anyone who thinks they’re better than a rock should be turned into one — then they would find out they’re not that special, and they could finally be happy. Max suggests that in recent decades people have been becoming aware of rock spirit, reminding me of what has been going on at Uluru.</p>
<p>There is a shed there full of rocks. For a long time, tourists took stones away from that sacred site as souvenirs, then a few decades ago something strange began to happen. The tourists <a href="https://www.news.com.au/travel/australian-holidays/northern-territory/the-souvenir-from-uluru-you-should-never-take/news-story/31345382f651611f088775ae0eb16e5f">started mailing the rocks back</a> with panicked reports of weird happenings, disturbed sleep, bad luck, ghostly visitations and terrible accidents. Somehow they knew it was because of the rocks, and were sending them back with desperate apologies. So many were returned that they had to build a big storage shed to house them.</p>
<p>In our Law we know that rocks are sentient and contain spirit. You can’t just pick one up and carry it home, as you will disturb its spirit and it will disturb you in turn. If you sit at any campfire for a yarn with Aboriginal people anywhere on this continent, you will be sure to hear a cautionary tale about a relative who was silly enough to pick up a rock and take it home, who then got sick or was haunted or killed or went crazy. </p>
<p>A lot of rocks are benevolent and enjoy being used and traded, but you have to follow the guidance of the old people to know which ones you can use. Rocks are to be respected.</p>
<p>Perhaps further work needs to be done on what constitutes consciousness and what constitutes life. If the definitions of these things could include rocks as sentient beings, it would go a long way towards stemming the emu-like behaviours that are running rampant across the earth and cyberspace right now. Either that, or we could start mailing those Uluru rocks out to all the narcissists to give them a lesson in respect for others.</p>
<p><em>This is an edited extract from Tyson Yunkaporta’s Sand Talk: How Indigenous Thinking Can Save the World, Text Publishing.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/122617/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Tyson Yunkaporta does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
There are memorial stones scattered along songlines throughout the Australian landscape, victims and transgressors transformed into rock following epic struggles to stand as cautionary tales.
Tyson Yunkaporta, Senior Lecturer Indigenous Knowledges, Deakin University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/121041
2019-08-12T20:01:02Z
2019-08-12T20:01:02Z
How Indigenous fashion designers are taking control and challenging the notion of the heroic, lone genius
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287653/original/file-20190812-71917-193fjqv.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&rect=0%2C0%2C3930%2C2610&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">From Country to Culture:
Artist: Lisa Waup. Designer: Verner. Collection: Journeys.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dylan Buckee</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Indigenous Australians have influenced modern Australian dress since first contact. From <a href="https://theconversation.com/what-designers-can-learn-from-aboriginal-possum-skin-cloaks-38655">possum skin cloaks</a> and booka <a href="https://www.theaustralian.com.au/inquirer/ken-wyatts-cloak-of-responsibility/news-story/97d08b0c40e5bc0aedf4eb6046962c04">kangaroo capes</a> to shell necklaces in Tasmania, Europeans have been fascinated with Indigenous materials, skills and aesthetics.
They have stolen, purchased, borrowed and worn them for more than 200 years. </p>
<p>In turn, Indigenous Australians have at times enjoyed wearing soldiers’ red jackets as battle spoils and possibly mocked the Europeans by wearing their top hats cockily in the early streets of Sydney. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287635/original/file-20190812-71940-1noka6t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287635/original/file-20190812-71940-1noka6t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287635/original/file-20190812-71940-1noka6t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287635/original/file-20190812-71940-1noka6t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287635/original/file-20190812-71940-1noka6t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=384&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287635/original/file-20190812-71940-1noka6t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=483&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287635/original/file-20190812-71940-1noka6t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=483&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287635/original/file-20190812-71940-1noka6t.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=483&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">William Barak, Figures in possum skin cloaks, 1898.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Later, as First Australians were dispossessed from their lands and herded into reserves and missions, clothing was imposed on them, ranging from shapeless “mother hubbard” dresses for women to shabby but respectable woollen two-piece suits for men. </p>
<p>Traditional dress practices, along with ceremony, language and music-making, were often banned by the colonisers. Missionaries often taught western-style leatherwork to men and needlecraft to women – yet powerful hybrids of self-determined dress also emerged, expressing subversive gestures and quiet resistance. </p>
<p>In the mid 20th century, missionary nuns in Far North Australia began to allow Indigenous women to craft their own textiles. Brightly coloured fabrics were the result, with unusual combinations of motifs. As Indigenous Art Centres were developed across Australia from the 1970s, mostly in remote communities, the fertile hybrid of painting and textile design generated wholly new looks - leading to the Indigenous textile revolution.</p>
<p>For some time, Indigenous Australian art was often seen as the future of a distinctively Australian design, as evident in the 1970s energy of Jenny Kee and Linda Jackson, but on the whole, Indigenous design was not recognised in its own right. This is now changing - Indigenous fashion design today is being shaped by First Nations people at every level.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287654/original/file-20190812-71926-vcwdxt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287654/original/file-20190812-71926-vcwdxt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287654/original/file-20190812-71926-vcwdxt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287654/original/file-20190812-71926-vcwdxt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287654/original/file-20190812-71926-vcwdxt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287654/original/file-20190812-71926-vcwdxt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287654/original/file-20190812-71926-vcwdxt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287654/original/file-20190812-71926-vcwdxt.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">From Country to Couture: Art Centre: Bula’bula Aboriginal Art Corporation. Designer: Julie Shaw, MAARA Collective.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dylan Buckee</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Last weekend, the <a href="https://www.daaf.com.au/">Darwin Aboriginal Art Fair</a> was held on <a href="http://larrakia.com/about/">Larrakia Country</a>. For the second year in a row, a major fashion parade more akin to a performance filled Darwin’s large Convention Centre. The fashion event From Country to Couture, held on 7 August, showcased fashion and textile design. But there was a very big difference from the way such a parade would have appeared in the 1980s or even the 1990s. </p>
<p>Indigenous Fashion is about a new framing of self-determination. From Country to Couture was designed, coordinated, produced, curated and mobilised from wholly Indigenous standpoints. This was apparent in many striking ways – from the inclusion of Indigenous models, to the deep strains of a “black power” music track. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287651/original/file-20190812-71932-6h93qe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287651/original/file-20190812-71932-6h93qe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287651/original/file-20190812-71932-6h93qe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287651/original/file-20190812-71932-6h93qe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287651/original/file-20190812-71932-6h93qe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287651/original/file-20190812-71932-6h93qe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287651/original/file-20190812-71932-6h93qe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287651/original/file-20190812-71932-6h93qe.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Artist: Kaiela Arts Shepparton. Designer: Wendy Crow. Collection: Yurri Wala Kaiele- Fresh Water River.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dylan Buckee</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>This year’s creative director of the event was Grace Lillian Lee, whose own designs are in major collections including the Museum of Applied Arts and Sciences (Sydney). Grace also leads a project called <a href="https://www.firstnationsfashiondesign.com/">First Nation Fashion + Design</a> which nurtures relationships between Indigenous artists and the fashion industry. Lee notes that she is “empowering black women and men to have their voices in the fashion space, which doesn’t always have to be overtly political, and can just be beautiful, and a lot of fun”.</p>
<p>Lee worked with dozens of artists, mainly from remote Indigenous Art Centres. Textile approaches ranged from silkscreen, batik, weaving, natural dying, digital printing, and embroidery. Some of these collaborations had the energy of new experiments, and others are ongoing. </p>
<p>The anniversary collection of Tiwi clothing label <a href="https://bimawear.com/about">Bima Wear</a>, in collaboration with <a href="http://clairhelen.com.au">Clair Helen</a> celebrated 50 years of the women’s creative enterprise. The designs worked with the quintessential geometric patterns of Bima in bold combinations. The message was as much about ethical, community-led industry as it was about beautiful textiles and clothes.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287658/original/file-20190812-71913-1kqbtir.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287658/original/file-20190812-71913-1kqbtir.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/287658/original/file-20190812-71913-1kqbtir.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=323&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287658/original/file-20190812-71913-1kqbtir.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=323&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287658/original/file-20190812-71913-1kqbtir.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=323&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287658/original/file-20190812-71913-1kqbtir.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=406&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287658/original/file-20190812-71913-1kqbtir.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=406&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/287658/original/file-20190812-71913-1kqbtir.jpeg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=406&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Bima Wear artists.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">James Taylor</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<p>Fashion has always been collaborative. It relies on the varied skills of textile designers, manufacturers, <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2006/01/19/fashion/thursdaystyles/the-hands-that-sew-the-sequins.html?mtrref=www.google.com&gwh=8D0BBD4FC794788932A4C6C84A18CCED&gwt=pay&assetType=REGIWALL">hidden hands or makers</a> (<em>petits mains</em> in French), stylists, marketers, photographers, distributors, as well as designers. Yet since the late 18th century, the idea of fashion has been generated around one powerful individual – the high fashion designer. </p>
<p>Indigenous fashion challenges this focus on hero designers – many of whom are men in western society. Based on deep community engagement, it challenges the conventional understanding of the fashion designer as sole, individual author and draws on the talents of large numbers of women.</p>
<p>As much a cultural performance as a fashion parade, Lee’s Darwin event featured a set and a narrative of smoking, burning, and regeneration to thread the six collections together, interspersed with dance performances by Luke Currie-Richardson and Yolanda Lowatta. </p>
<p>From Country to Couture highlighted how the success of the textile design movement in remote Indigenous communities has shaped high-end fashion in Australia. But it also signalled a new way forward, grounded in community relationships, for Indigenous fashion design.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/121041/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Peter McNeil has received funding from Humanities in the European Research Area (HERA) that supports his comparative work here.</span></em></p><p class="fine-print"><em><span>Alexandra Crosby, Jason De Santolo, and Treena Clark do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Indigenous fashion design today is being shaped by First Nations people at every level.
Alexandra Crosby, Senior Lecturer, Design, University of Technology Sydney
Jason De Santolo, Associate professor, University of Technology Sydney
Peter McNeil, Distinguished Professor of Design History, UTS, University of Technology Sydney
Treena Clark, PhD Candidate, Indigenous PR and activism, University of Technology Sydney
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/120097
2019-07-17T19:49:51Z
2019-07-17T19:49:51Z
Budj Bim’s world heritage listing is an Australian first – what other Indigenous cultural sites could be next?
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284195/original/file-20190716-173334-kqibd1.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Ranger Trevor Bramwell on the walk up to the Split Rock art galleries in Cape York's Quinkan Country in 2017. </span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rebekah Ison/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>The Budj Bim Cultural Landscape in south-west Victoria is the first Indigenous Australian landscape to be <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-07-06/indigenous-site-joins-pyramids-stonehenge-world-heritage-list/11271804">gazetted on the World Heritage List</a> purely for its cultural values. </p>
<p>This listing breaks an invisible barrier: even the most iconic Indigenous Australian cultural sites, such as Uluru-Kata Tjuta and Kakadu National Parks, were listed for both natural and cultural values. </p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/the-detective-work-behind-the-budj-bim-eel-traps-world-heritage-bid-71800">The detective work behind the Budj Bim eel traps World Heritage bid</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<p>Could the Budj Bim listing open the door to other Australian Indigenous sites obtaining a World Heritage listing? Here are five that certainly deserve greater attention. </p>
<p>When considering them it’s important to understand how ancestral beings inhabit living Indigenous landscapes, which they created during the era known as the Dreaming. </p>
<p>Today, these beings continue to live in the land. They are seen by Indigenous people as powerful and intelligent, with the capacity to hurt those who don’t act in the right way. They can be in different places at the same time. And they see everything.</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/australias-problem-with-aboriginal-world-heritage-82912">Australia's problem with Aboriginal World Heritage</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>The Dampier Archipelago (including the Burrup Peninsula)</h2>
<p><a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/heritage/places/national/dampier-archipelago">The Dampier Archipelago</a>, 1,550 kilometres north of Perth, has one of the most spectacular rock art landscapes in Australia. The richness and diversity of this art is extraordinary, ranging from small shelters to complexes with thousands of engravings. Some images are similar to those found hundreds of kilometres away in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Depuch_Island">Depuch Island</a>, the Calvert Ranges and Port Hedland, revealing ancient social connections spanning vast distances. </p>
<p>The Ngarda-Ngarlie people believe this area of land was created by the ancestral beings Ngkurr, Bardi and Gardi, who left their marks in its physical features. For instance, the blood of creative beings turned into stains that are now the Marntawarrura, or “black hills”.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284194/original/file-20190716-173366-r67wts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284194/original/file-20190716-173366-r67wts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284194/original/file-20190716-173366-r67wts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284194/original/file-20190716-173366-r67wts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284194/original/file-20190716-173366-r67wts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=348&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284194/original/file-20190716-173366-r67wts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284194/original/file-20190716-173366-r67wts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284194/original/file-20190716-173366-r67wts.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=437&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ancient Aboriginal rock art found amongst thousands of drawings and carvings near the Burrup Peninsula in Western Australia.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Robert G. Bednarik/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Baiame’s Ngunnhu (Brewarrina Fishtraps)</h2>
<p><a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/heritage/places/national/brewarrina">The Brewarrina fishtraps</a>, located in the Darling River near Brewarrina in New South Wales, are a clear example of Indigenous science. They offer material evidence of the Ngemba people’s advanced knowledge of dry-stone wall technology, river hydrology and fish ecology. </p>
<p>The Ngemba people believe the ancestral being Baiame revealed the innovative design of the traps by throwing his net over the river. With the help of his two sons, Baiame built the fishtraps in the shape of this net. </p>
<p>Nearly half a kilometre long, the fishtraps’ design and complexity is extraordinary. Dry-stone weirs and ponds were designed to take advantage of the specific configuration of the landscape and seasonal changes in river flows. The pond gates are strategically located to trap fish as they migrate both upstream and downstream. For thousands of years, these distinctive traps have been used to catch fresh water fish. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284192/original/file-20190716-173376-lhd82o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284192/original/file-20190716-173376-lhd82o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284192/original/file-20190716-173376-lhd82o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284192/original/file-20190716-173376-lhd82o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284192/original/file-20190716-173376-lhd82o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=399&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284192/original/file-20190716-173376-lhd82o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284192/original/file-20190716-173376-lhd82o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284192/original/file-20190716-173376-lhd82o.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=502&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">The fish traps at Brewarrina photographed in 2008.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Dean Lewins/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Ngarrabullgan</h2>
<p><a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/heritage/places/national/ngarrabullgan">Ngarrabullgan</a>, a sacred and dangerous place in north Queensland, is an important example of congruence between Aboriginal traditions and archaeologically recorded changes in behaviours. Excavations show that Aboriginal people began living on Ngarrabullgan more than 37,000 years ago. They stopped camping there about 600 years ago. </p>
<p>There is no evidence of climate or environmental change at this time. Nor is there evidence of depopulation, which could have caused changes in site use. However, the Djungan people believe that a spiritual being called Eekoo lives on Ngarrabullgan (also known as Mt Mulligan). He can cause sickness by throwing stones, hooks or pieces of wood into a person’s body. This does not leave a mark. </p>
<p>Djungan people avoid going near the top of Ngarrabullgan where Eekoo lives to avoid disturbing him. They attribute any sickness when on the mountain to Eekoo. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284201/original/file-20190716-173338-11vpanx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284201/original/file-20190716-173338-11vpanx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284201/original/file-20190716-173338-11vpanx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284201/original/file-20190716-173338-11vpanx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284201/original/file-20190716-173338-11vpanx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284201/original/file-20190716-173338-11vpanx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284201/original/file-20190716-173338-11vpanx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284201/original/file-20190716-173338-11vpanx.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ngarrabullgan, also known as Mt Mulligan, in Queensland.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Wikimedia Commons</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Quinkan country</h2>
<p>The distinctive feature of <a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/heritage/places/national/quinkan-country">Quinkan Country</a> in the Cape York Peninsula in North Queensland is the richness, size and density of its Aboriginal paintings and engravings. This country is best known for its depictions of Quinkan spirit beings, tall, slender Timaras and fat-bodied Imjims (or Anurra). </p>
<p>The rock art of Quinkan Country provides insights into Aboriginal occupation of the north-east region of Australia. The cultural traditions, laws, and stories told there were developed over at least 37,000 years. </p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284197/original/file-20190716-173370-15pjqjz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284197/original/file-20190716-173370-15pjqjz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284197/original/file-20190716-173370-15pjqjz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284197/original/file-20190716-173370-15pjqjz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284197/original/file-20190716-173370-15pjqjz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=450&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284197/original/file-20190716-173370-15pjqjz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284197/original/file-20190716-173370-15pjqjz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284197/original/file-20190716-173370-15pjqjz.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=566&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">Ranger Trevor Bramwell points to rock paintings at Split Rock near the Cape York town of Laura in 2017, in the land known as Quinkan Country.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Rebekah Ison/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Western Tasmania Aboriginal Cultural Landscape</h2>
<p><a href="http://www.environment.gov.au/heritage/places/national/western-tasmania">The Western Tasmania Aboriginal Cultural Landscape</a> provides evidence of a specialised and more sedentary way of life based on seals, shellfish and land mammals. This unusual Aboriginal way of life began around 2,000 years ago. It continued until the 1830s.</p>
<p>Shell middens in this landscape do not contain the remains of bony fish. However, they do contain “hut depressions”. Sometimes, these are formed into the shape of villages. Circular pits in <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cobble_(geology)">cobble beaches</a> are near some of these depressions. It is likely that they are hides that were used when hunting seals.</p>
<figure class="align-center zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284199/original/file-20190716-173347-1qicy91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284199/original/file-20190716-173347-1qicy91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/284199/original/file-20190716-173347-1qicy91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284199/original/file-20190716-173347-1qicy91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284199/original/file-20190716-173347-1qicy91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=400&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284199/original/file-20190716-173347-1qicy91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284199/original/file-20190716-173347-1qicy91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/284199/original/file-20190716-173347-1qicy91.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=503&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption">A shell midden in Tasmania.</span>
<span class="attribution"><span class="source">Candice Marshall/AAP</span></span>
</figcaption>
</figure>
<h2>Other candidates</h2>
<p>These places already appear on our national heritage list. There is a plethora of other important ones, both on and off the list, including Mutawintji National Park, Gundabooka National Park and State Conservation area, and Koonalda Cave, on the Nullarbor Plain.</p>
<p>But Aboriginal owners and custodians must be the decision-makers when it comes to proposing a World Heritage listing. They have an inherited right to benefit from a listing – and they hold cultural responsibility for the consequences of it.
Protecting these living landscapes is their responsibility. Increased tourist activity could be a new source of income for them but it could also place cultural landscapes at risk.</p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/120097/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>The authors do not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and have disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
The World Heritage Listing for Victoria’s Budj Bim fish traps was ground-breaking. Here are five other Australian Indigenous sites that also deserve greater attention.
Claire Smith, Professor of Archaeology, College of Humanities, Arts and Social Sciences, Flinders University
Gary Jackson, Research Associate in Archaeology, Flinders University
Jordan Ralph, PhD Candidate, Archaeology, Flinders University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.
tag:theconversation.com,2011:article/115839
2019-04-30T06:14:35Z
2019-04-30T06:14:35Z
It’s time to properly acknowledge - and celebrate - Indigenous composers
<figure><img src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271664/original/file-20190430-194633-6av2c7.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=496&fit=clip" /><figcaption><span class="caption">Composer William Barton in 2013. Indigenous composers have long been working in the field, but the contribution of Indigenous music and culture to Australian composition deserves greater recognition.</span> <span class="attribution"><span class="source">David Crosling/AAP</span></span></figcaption></figure><p>Indigenous composers have been around for a long time, with Deborah Cheetham and myself working in composition for some 30 years, Troy Russell for 25 years, and William Barton for 20 years, amongst quite a few others. Many more are now emerging, but most are seldom heard.</p>
<p>This is at odds with the fact that numerous Australian composers have referenced Indigenous music and culture in their works, many of which have received much attention.</p>
<p>Some have used Indigenous melodies or songs, themes or narratives, culture or language in original pieces without appropriate engagements with Indigenous peoples. I call it “Indigenous referencing”: either serious overreaching, or various “lite” appropriations.</p>
<p>Almost 20 years ago, I talked to a leading composer about my heritage and identity, to which he responded “you don’t look it”. In a similar talk with another late composer, he simply talked about “the real ones”. I can personally let go of being dismissed. However, in acknowledgement that there are now many more Indigenous composers, such attitudes need gentle correction.</p>
<p>Admittedly I’m a fair-skinned Koori, but the heritage and identity of any Indigenous person is not the call of anyone, and especially not composers who’ve made a focus on referencing Indigenous culture in their works. This referencing can effectively disempower Indigenous composers. Can we imagine artists doing the same in the art sector?</p>
<hr>
<p>
<em>
<strong>
Read more:
<a href="https://theconversation.com/indigenous-cultural-appropriation-what-not-to-do-86679">Indigenous cultural appropriation: what not to do</a>
</strong>
</em>
</p>
<hr>
<h2>A way forward</h2>
<p>As a composer and Dharug/Eora descendant, I’ve documented the <a href="https://www.australianmusiccentre.com.au/about/NgarraBurria">Ngarra-burria First Peoples Composers program</a>, of which I am the founder, in a new Platform Paper. </p>
<figure class="align-left zoomable">
<a href="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=1000&fit=clip"><img alt="" src="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=237&fit=clip" srcset="https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=600&h=885&fit=crop&dpr=1 600w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=600&h=885&fit=crop&dpr=2 1200w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=600&h=885&fit=crop&dpr=3 1800w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=45&auto=format&w=754&h=1112&fit=crop&dpr=1 754w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=30&auto=format&w=754&h=1112&fit=crop&dpr=2 1508w, https://images.theconversation.com/files/271668/original/file-20190430-194637-196gfj0.jpg?ixlib=rb-1.1.0&q=15&auto=format&w=754&h=1112&fit=crop&dpr=3 2262w" sizes="(min-width: 1466px) 754px, (max-width: 599px) 100vw, (min-width: 600px) 600px, 237px"></a>
<figcaption>
<span class="caption"></span>
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<p>I do understand the referencing of Indigenous music and culture by non-Indigenous composers. It makes sense as we collectively seek to understand the evolving Australian identity and our place in this land. In some ways, composers such as Peter Sculthorpe were effectively saying “look to Indigenous peoples”, and there’s a depth in that. </p>
<p>However, there are ways to engage with Indigenous peoples, music and culture that are meaningful for all parties. I recommend going to the source, rather than having Indigenous music filtered through the pen of non-Indigenous composers (genuine partnerships between Indigenous musicians and composers are not what I’m concerned about).</p>
<p>The First Peoples Composers Program aims to develop and support Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander composers working in scored music formats and new music styles. Our goals include composer development, making industry connections, lifting visibility, and exploring new expressions of culture.</p>
<p>My Platform Paper recommends such things as including Indigenous composers when making work that references Indigenous culture and sustaining that relationship over the years. </p>
<p>We should throw core funding at Indigenous composers and not just some kind of special funding, because then it’s real. And become informed about cultural agency, or who has authority over cultural expression. Fred Copperwaite, co-artistic director from our partner Moogahlin Performing Arts talks of “First Peoples first”.</p>
<p>And of course we recommend hanging out with Indigenous people. I worked at the Eora Centre for Aboriginal Visual and Performing Arts Sydney for about 25 years, and noted that no composer from the Sydney University Music Department, which was 300 metres away, ever visited us.</p>
<p>Ultimately this Paper is an opportunity to say Indigenous composers are there: they need support, they deserve profiling, and they will enrich the music sector.</p>
<h2>Artful expressions of culture</h2>
<p>The composers in the <a href="https://www.abc.net.au/classic/new-waves/ngarra-burria-first-peoples-composers/10834456">first Ngarra-burria program of 2016-18</a> – Rhyan Clapham, Brenda Gifford, Tim Gray, Troy Russell and Elizabeth Sheppard – have explored artful ways to articulate their culture.</p>
<p>Troy Russell’s Nucoorilma talks of a real-life foot journey over a great distance that his grandmother took about 100 years ago, to marry a man from another region. She and her family were welcomed into that distant country region/language area by locals. </p>
<p>In his piece, we get the picture that in the old times a “welcome to country” was potent with inherent physical effort, and it sounds in his music. Today it brings meaning for all of us about “welcomes”.</p>
<p>Rhyan Clapham (winner of the Create NSW Peter Sculthorpe Fellowship 2017) engages in language reclamation through his music. </p>
<p>He simply takes four words from his Murrawarri language, assigns them to four instruments, and uses the rhythms and the contours of each word to shape the rhythms and the contours of the musical ideas. He is graciously passing language reclamation into the hands of listeners. </p>
<p>The other composers, too, are eager to be heard and share. And this year we have a new group of another five Indigenous composers. Composer mentors have included Kevin Hunt, Kim Cunio, Deborah Cheetham and me. </p>
<p>Indigenous composers must have a place to be heard, and music organisations and ensembles need to take on part of the responsibility for profiling them. Cultural agency needs to be prioritised, and respectful long-term relationships created with Indigenous parties in any music project. </p>
<p><em>Dr Chris Sainsbury is the author of the new Platform Paper, Ngarra-Burria: New music and the search for an Australian sound, to be launched on May 1 by <a href="https://currencyhouse.org.au/node/279">Currency House</a>.</em></p><img src="https://counter.theconversation.com/content/115839/count.gif" alt="The Conversation" width="1" height="1" />
<p class="fine-print"><em><span>Christopher Sainsbury does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.</span></em></p>
Australian composers have long referenced Indigenous music and culture in their works. A new platform paper suggests a more collaborative way forward.
Christopher Sainsbury, Senior Lecturer Composition, Australian National University
Licensed as Creative Commons – attribution, no derivatives.