Tuesday, 24 March 2009
training up a storm
yesterday we had rugby training on the beach. a storm front advanced from over the casuarina trees, over the beach, put to the ocean. grey and gnarled, with one bank of clouds nestled inside the other like two upturned bowls. it was a punishing training session, a long run up and down the beach followed by sprints and core work in what was now pouring rain. the light was strange, azure blues and street light orange. lighting forked constantly across the clouds and down into the ocean. we were covered in sand and sweat, people looking close to throwing up. afterwards, everyone shared a common feeling of joint achievement, of cameraderie boosted by our high level of endorphins. something special about that session.
Monday, 23 March 2009
let's cry together
okay it's been so long. i have so many stories i will try and put up. but let's talk about today.
we had two entertaining middle-aged aboriginals at work this morning for 'administration training'. i'm showing them the photocopier, they are providing me with advanced advice on social structure in one of the communities i am going to be visiting. who gets a better deal? we spoke the same language (djambarrpuyngu) and they were calling me brother in language within two minutes. it's going to be fun working with them.
in the afternoon, an aboriginal lady in her thirties wandered in off the street, originally from the tanami desert but now sleeping in the long grass at one mile where a lot of the warlpiri mob stop.
she wanted to tell her husband, who was in jail, that their little daughter was in hospital and was dying. he didn't know yet and she wanted us to help her arrange a phone call with him.
i don't really deal with the sharp end of things, being the researcher, i just get to do the fun things. but i had to get involved with this one.
she suddenly noticed that a poster on the wall showed her father painting a picture. he had died some years ago. he was 'sung' - someone put a spell on him - so that he had a snake in his chest. she found him coughing up blood and he ubsequently died. the receptionist hurried to take the poster down. the lady showed us the cuts; the damage she had done to herself, and others had done to her during the sorry (mourning) time. she showed us the other scars from violence, a spear in her leg, a boomerang had broken her collarbone. a car had run over her hand and she had lost fingers.
she started crying. now her daughter was dying from gallstones, pneumonia, maybe cancer; before this her son had died. there was poison in the petrol he was sniffing and he died. she was bawling and spit was dribbling out of her mouth.
i sat with her and i cried too...we cried together...i am such a sucker really. old howard would call me a bleeding heart. someone on the other end of the phone said that she had to address her request in writing to the prison.
that was enough for me, i got some car keys and drove her down to the prison. i tried out my very limited warlpiri (thanks max for that!) on her and she was shocked, pleased and started teaching me other words.
knowing that you needed to book appointments in advance and expecting a fight, i stomped into the prison reception. the people at the desk put up a token resistance but 'terminally ill daugher' seemed to do the trick and they waved me through. there was more resistance when we got to the husband's section, but they let us through again. i had to sit in the room with the two of them. she seemed a mixture of sad and happy that she was able to see him. he didn't say too much really. i'm not sure what i was expecting. i guess the reluctant voyeur part of me wanted something more emotional.
i drove her back, gave her the prison appointments number, and after thanking me, she was gone.
i went to a management committee meeting of an environmental organisation i'm involved with. i think i took out my frustration with the world that had built up out on the committee a little bit. we have around 190 members, they pay around $35. we probably raise around $6000 a year that way. that's about 0.5% of our total income. it costs us more than that to do the membership renewal administration, let alone send out newsletters, or actually do anything at all. by contrast, it's ridiculously difficult to set up a monthly direct debit to pay us money. i won't go into more detail but argh greenies! i think there were a few outbursts of mine at that meeting.
i did apologise, explained my day as an excuse. to their credit, one gave me a colour photocopy of a beautiful print that is the logo for an upcoming forum. it was such a nice and unexpected gesture. ahh greenies! i guess there's only really two letters difference between 'argh' and 'ahh'. on the screen they sound kinda the same.
we had two entertaining middle-aged aboriginals at work this morning for 'administration training'. i'm showing them the photocopier, they are providing me with advanced advice on social structure in one of the communities i am going to be visiting. who gets a better deal? we spoke the same language (djambarrpuyngu) and they were calling me brother in language within two minutes. it's going to be fun working with them.
in the afternoon, an aboriginal lady in her thirties wandered in off the street, originally from the tanami desert but now sleeping in the long grass at one mile where a lot of the warlpiri mob stop.
she wanted to tell her husband, who was in jail, that their little daughter was in hospital and was dying. he didn't know yet and she wanted us to help her arrange a phone call with him.
i don't really deal with the sharp end of things, being the researcher, i just get to do the fun things. but i had to get involved with this one.
she suddenly noticed that a poster on the wall showed her father painting a picture. he had died some years ago. he was 'sung' - someone put a spell on him - so that he had a snake in his chest. she found him coughing up blood and he ubsequently died. the receptionist hurried to take the poster down. the lady showed us the cuts; the damage she had done to herself, and others had done to her during the sorry (mourning) time. she showed us the other scars from violence, a spear in her leg, a boomerang had broken her collarbone. a car had run over her hand and she had lost fingers.
she started crying. now her daughter was dying from gallstones, pneumonia, maybe cancer; before this her son had died. there was poison in the petrol he was sniffing and he died. she was bawling and spit was dribbling out of her mouth.
i sat with her and i cried too...we cried together...i am such a sucker really. old howard would call me a bleeding heart. someone on the other end of the phone said that she had to address her request in writing to the prison.
that was enough for me, i got some car keys and drove her down to the prison. i tried out my very limited warlpiri (thanks max for that!) on her and she was shocked, pleased and started teaching me other words.
knowing that you needed to book appointments in advance and expecting a fight, i stomped into the prison reception. the people at the desk put up a token resistance but 'terminally ill daugher' seemed to do the trick and they waved me through. there was more resistance when we got to the husband's section, but they let us through again. i had to sit in the room with the two of them. she seemed a mixture of sad and happy that she was able to see him. he didn't say too much really. i'm not sure what i was expecting. i guess the reluctant voyeur part of me wanted something more emotional.
i drove her back, gave her the prison appointments number, and after thanking me, she was gone.
i went to a management committee meeting of an environmental organisation i'm involved with. i think i took out my frustration with the world that had built up out on the committee a little bit. we have around 190 members, they pay around $35. we probably raise around $6000 a year that way. that's about 0.5% of our total income. it costs us more than that to do the membership renewal administration, let alone send out newsletters, or actually do anything at all. by contrast, it's ridiculously difficult to set up a monthly direct debit to pay us money. i won't go into more detail but argh greenies! i think there were a few outbursts of mine at that meeting.
i did apologise, explained my day as an excuse. to their credit, one gave me a colour photocopy of a beautiful print that is the logo for an upcoming forum. it was such a nice and unexpected gesture. ahh greenies! i guess there's only really two letters difference between 'argh' and 'ahh'. on the screen they sound kinda the same.
Sunday, 29 June 2008
dust echoes
i've recently discovered this amazing collection of animated shorts based on stories frum wugularr community near katherine. really beautiful, great music and great animation. i don't get excited about stuff that often but they are fantastic. they aren't on dvd so the only way to view them is online via the abc here.
please check them out. favourites are the wugaluk sisters, mimis, whirlpool mermaid and brolga. i really hope the abc beings them out on dvd so i can see them decent quality. COME ON ABC!
please check them out. favourites are the wugaluk sisters, mimis, whirlpool mermaid and brolga. i really hope the abc beings them out on dvd so i can see them decent quality. COME ON ABC!
Friday, 27 June 2008
'the tide is coming in and we're drowning'
This is a story someone I know forwarded to me.
Julie is the salt of the earth, she has worked all her life supporting her family and her community.
Why would the government want to hurt her and people like her who give their all, and are model citizens to whom we can aspire?
My name is John and I am one of the more fortunate in life, I have two of the best mums that have ever been. One mum lives in Melbourne and my other mum I met when I moved to Galiwin'ku, Elcho Island in the Northern Territory to take up my first teaching post over 30 years ago. Walking to school every day I would pass a house where I would always hear laughter and music. One day I plucked up the courage and asked if I could sit with the mother and father of the household. Soon I was calling in every day, often well after dark, after having prepared my lessons and teaching program. Sometimes I would stay overnight sleep on the concrete floor of the kitchen, or during the dry season outside on the blanket by a fire.
Julie welcomed everybody to her house and I was no exception, except that I was white. This made no difference to her, and because I had no relatives she thought I should be her son. I was clearly interested in learning about Yolngu culture and language, but most importantly, was respectful and willing to listen and learn from her, her husband and their families. Mum Julie and her families have always been respectful of my background and looked after me, educated and advised me as their own.
It was deeply distressing to me to witness the devastating and debilitating effect that aspects of the intervention have had on my Elcho family.
In April income management was forced on all people receiving Centrelink payments and living on Aboriginal land, including Mum Julie.
Before going much further you need to know a little more about Mum Julie. In the 70s she worked for the local council as a cleaner, but it wasn't long before she was given the pay clerk responsibilities. She was a natural for this position because of her honesty and frankness. She worked for many years while her children attended the local school. Things were better organised during the mission and early days after the government took over, there were jobs, local people independently built, wired and plumbed all the houses. There was fishing and the market garden was productive. Later on governments began tendering building contracts, so fewer and fewer houses were built by local Yolngu. This was just one of the reasons for the low attendance at school. Why go to school if there are no jobs?
Mum Julie decided to get a job at the school in order to encourage her grandchildren to attend school. With a job at the school she could take them to school and be with them all day, a commitment many grandmothers would understand. Last year Mum Julie suffered a stroke and was unable to continue working. So she began to receive a Centrelink invalid pension.
Towards the end of April, Mum Julie rang and asked me to find out what this income management was about, and why she wasn't receiving her full pension. She was outraged that half her pension was isolated without her permission, and at being treated like a child. She believed that all Australians, black and white on Centrelink payments were being income managed. Centrelink had given her a food card to swipe at the local store, but for weeks and weeks she struggled and limped into the store to swipe the card, and for weeks and weeks there was no money in the food card. Upset and with her pride and dignity severely hurt she threw the card away.
After discovering what IM really meant Mum asked me to assist her gain an exemption from Income Management. I became a nominee to enquire on her behalf, and not long after I was visiting Galiwin'ku and called in to the Centrelink office. I asked the officers the reasons why Mum was being income managed. One officer responded, "it's a response to the Little Children are Sacred Report". I responded, "You must think she is a child abuser. I want my mum exempted from income management." The officer asked, "What are the reasons she should not be income managed?"
I thought, then asked, "First you tell me the reasons she's on it." At first he couldn't answer then eventually replied, "because she lives on Aboriginal land."
I went on to explain that Mum had never touched alcohol, which is not surprising given that all the Aboriginal townships in north-east Arnhemland are dry and always have been, she has never smoked, never gambled, has never abused children or any of the other things that the Federal government has labelled Aboriginal people as in the Northern Territory. The officer then said so far there have been no exemptions to IM. We later found out that the only valid reason is 'not to live on Aboriginal land'. The effect of this blanket targeting in the case of Mum and her families is debilitating and dehumanising. I was sensing that income management is having a severe and negative impact on the spirit and psyche of Aboriginal people; an elderly matriarch rang a couple of days ago and said, "the tide is in, we are drowning. Why don't they just come and shoot us?"
John
Julie is the salt of the earth, she has worked all her life supporting her family and her community.
Why would the government want to hurt her and people like her who give their all, and are model citizens to whom we can aspire?
My name is John and I am one of the more fortunate in life, I have two of the best mums that have ever been. One mum lives in Melbourne and my other mum I met when I moved to Galiwin'ku, Elcho Island in the Northern Territory to take up my first teaching post over 30 years ago. Walking to school every day I would pass a house where I would always hear laughter and music. One day I plucked up the courage and asked if I could sit with the mother and father of the household. Soon I was calling in every day, often well after dark, after having prepared my lessons and teaching program. Sometimes I would stay overnight sleep on the concrete floor of the kitchen, or during the dry season outside on the blanket by a fire.
Julie welcomed everybody to her house and I was no exception, except that I was white. This made no difference to her, and because I had no relatives she thought I should be her son. I was clearly interested in learning about Yolngu culture and language, but most importantly, was respectful and willing to listen and learn from her, her husband and their families. Mum Julie and her families have always been respectful of my background and looked after me, educated and advised me as their own.
It was deeply distressing to me to witness the devastating and debilitating effect that aspects of the intervention have had on my Elcho family.
In April income management was forced on all people receiving Centrelink payments and living on Aboriginal land, including Mum Julie.
Before going much further you need to know a little more about Mum Julie. In the 70s she worked for the local council as a cleaner, but it wasn't long before she was given the pay clerk responsibilities. She was a natural for this position because of her honesty and frankness. She worked for many years while her children attended the local school. Things were better organised during the mission and early days after the government took over, there were jobs, local people independently built, wired and plumbed all the houses. There was fishing and the market garden was productive. Later on governments began tendering building contracts, so fewer and fewer houses were built by local Yolngu. This was just one of the reasons for the low attendance at school. Why go to school if there are no jobs?
Mum Julie decided to get a job at the school in order to encourage her grandchildren to attend school. With a job at the school she could take them to school and be with them all day, a commitment many grandmothers would understand. Last year Mum Julie suffered a stroke and was unable to continue working. So she began to receive a Centrelink invalid pension.
Towards the end of April, Mum Julie rang and asked me to find out what this income management was about, and why she wasn't receiving her full pension. She was outraged that half her pension was isolated without her permission, and at being treated like a child. She believed that all Australians, black and white on Centrelink payments were being income managed. Centrelink had given her a food card to swipe at the local store, but for weeks and weeks she struggled and limped into the store to swipe the card, and for weeks and weeks there was no money in the food card. Upset and with her pride and dignity severely hurt she threw the card away.
After discovering what IM really meant Mum asked me to assist her gain an exemption from Income Management. I became a nominee to enquire on her behalf, and not long after I was visiting Galiwin'ku and called in to the Centrelink office. I asked the officers the reasons why Mum was being income managed. One officer responded, "it's a response to the Little Children are Sacred Report". I responded, "You must think she is a child abuser. I want my mum exempted from income management." The officer asked, "What are the reasons she should not be income managed?"
I thought, then asked, "First you tell me the reasons she's on it." At first he couldn't answer then eventually replied, "because she lives on Aboriginal land."
I went on to explain that Mum had never touched alcohol, which is not surprising given that all the Aboriginal townships in north-east Arnhemland are dry and always have been, she has never smoked, never gambled, has never abused children or any of the other things that the Federal government has labelled Aboriginal people as in the Northern Territory. The officer then said so far there have been no exemptions to IM. We later found out that the only valid reason is 'not to live on Aboriginal land'. The effect of this blanket targeting in the case of Mum and her families is debilitating and dehumanising. I was sensing that income management is having a severe and negative impact on the spirit and psyche of Aboriginal people; an elderly matriarch rang a couple of days ago and said, "the tide is in, we are drowning. Why don't they just come and shoot us?"
John
Thursday, 26 June 2008
leases leases everywhere and noone has a clue...
i've encountered some ridiculous things going on in aboriginal affairs lately so i thought i should try and get some blog-time in on them...this post is about leases...my company is trying to get permission to build a childcare clinic out in a desert community and the project is currently stuck trying to get permission to build...
as you may or may not know fahcsia (the h was added in recently...it stands for housing....apparently it's still pronounced facsia...because if you pronounce it with the h it sounds like...well it's pretty funny) compulsorily acquired 5-year leases over all aboriginal communities in the territory...and has been signing agreements to get 40-99 year leases over them where possible on top of this...
now planning has always been a big issue in aboriginal communities because nobody is quite sure who has the power to allocate land to people for building things on. the northern land council, which represents traditional owners, thinks they do, and go on and grant leases to people. the northern territory's department of planning and infrastructure thinks THEY do and there's often a bit of a tussle between the two with nobody quite sure if they really have permission for anything...
now with fahcsia supposedly owning the land there is a third person in the picture...three people who don't know who has responsibility for what...since the start of the intervention, the dpi has been forwarding requests for leases on to the person at fahcsia who is supposed to be looking after them. he has now left, having done nothing at all in that time...but wait it's okay because the person supposedly in charge of the leases has fulfilled his role by forwarding all inquiries on to the email address 5yearleases@facsia.gov.au...
does anyone ever even check this ghost email account? my company sent emails to this address 6 months ago and have never received a reply...meanwhile we finally have someone new to talk to at fahcsia about getting subleases...he is a nice guy, stammers terribly, has no idea at all about planning or land law, promises he will get back to you about your inquiry and if he's over 22 i'll eat my hat...
as you may or may not know fahcsia (the h was added in recently...it stands for housing....apparently it's still pronounced facsia...because if you pronounce it with the h it sounds like...well it's pretty funny) compulsorily acquired 5-year leases over all aboriginal communities in the territory...and has been signing agreements to get 40-99 year leases over them where possible on top of this...
now planning has always been a big issue in aboriginal communities because nobody is quite sure who has the power to allocate land to people for building things on. the northern land council, which represents traditional owners, thinks they do, and go on and grant leases to people. the northern territory's department of planning and infrastructure thinks THEY do and there's often a bit of a tussle between the two with nobody quite sure if they really have permission for anything...
now with fahcsia supposedly owning the land there is a third person in the picture...three people who don't know who has responsibility for what...since the start of the intervention, the dpi has been forwarding requests for leases on to the person at fahcsia who is supposed to be looking after them. he has now left, having done nothing at all in that time...but wait it's okay because the person supposedly in charge of the leases has fulfilled his role by forwarding all inquiries on to the email address 5yearleases@facsia.gov.au...
does anyone ever even check this ghost email account? my company sent emails to this address 6 months ago and have never received a reply...meanwhile we finally have someone new to talk to at fahcsia about getting subleases...he is a nice guy, stammers terribly, has no idea at all about planning or land law, promises he will get back to you about your inquiry and if he's over 22 i'll eat my hat...
Thursday, 7 February 2008
week of footy
okay i did something a bit stupid. i agreed to train and maybe have a run with one of the local rugby union clubs...i've been playing touch football a while and felt it would be fun to do something a bit more serious and physical...this week was the first week of proper training. it's darwin so you know people just kinda muck in, it doesn't matter too much if you've played before or not. we did the bleep test and i was in the top handful of people so i'm pleased with my fitness. all the gym work has made me pretty strong and playing touch i know how to defend a bit and my ball skills aren't the worst at all. so i might be alright. tackling is all a mystery though and i'm not even going to think about kicking the ball.
people are pretty friendly and i'm enjoying things...i had training tues and thurs and i played a touch match on wednesday. we only just had enough players for touch and, while it was fun, once the opposition realised one of our team can't really run, they just ran round him and scored lots of tries. i was sore then from tuesday's rugby training...by thursday's rugby training though i was in serious pain, and i hurt my ankle which is still swollen and painful now (the soreness in my muscles though, seems to hide the pain from my ankle) we played a bit of touch rugby afterwards and i was passed the ball and just about to score a try when i fumbled the catch grr...after that one of the guys came up and asked me 'how d'you hold a tit?' i really had no idea how to answer that heh heh i was shocked....he asked me again and i had to reply 'i have no idea, i've never held one. i'm gay'...he looked shocked but recovered and then explained about how it was an analogy for holding the ball...heh i just looked serious at the time but retelling the story in the office i had everyone in stiches...
people are pretty friendly and i'm enjoying things...i had training tues and thurs and i played a touch match on wednesday. we only just had enough players for touch and, while it was fun, once the opposition realised one of our team can't really run, they just ran round him and scored lots of tries. i was sore then from tuesday's rugby training...by thursday's rugby training though i was in serious pain, and i hurt my ankle which is still swollen and painful now (the soreness in my muscles though, seems to hide the pain from my ankle) we played a bit of touch rugby afterwards and i was passed the ball and just about to score a try when i fumbled the catch grr...after that one of the guys came up and asked me 'how d'you hold a tit?' i really had no idea how to answer that heh heh i was shocked....he asked me again and i had to reply 'i have no idea, i've never held one. i'm gay'...he looked shocked but recovered and then explained about how it was an analogy for holding the ball...heh i just looked serious at the time but retelling the story in the office i had everyone in stiches...
crazy weekend
so after last weekend out bush, this weekend i managed to go out in darwin four nights in a row, pretty unusual for me really. most of the time, i didn't plan to go out, certainly not so late, but then i got messages or bumped into people and i thought yeah why not. there were some big ones. i went to the local club called discovery after managing to avoid it for the past year...i was with a lesbian friend that time who was a bit put out as these two girls she liked both got together with each other...i guess that's one thing that straight people don't have to worry about...having their exes hooking up with each other. she persuaded some army bloke to take off his shirt for us, which he seemed to enjoy...i went out another night with some of my pilot mates, one of which is leaving to fly tiger in melbourne. throb, the local gay/mixed club said they would let me in for free if i took my top off and i am all for saving money ($15 woo hoo!). they have white guys in the new drag act which makes things less interesting. some guy from melbourne tried to chat me up, but in spite of his arguing he was a simple country guy, lost me when he told me his job was watching porn to make sure it passed australian censorship laws (can you imagine what that would do to your soul watching that all day?) and how his last relationship was a 5-years live-in with two other guys that were 'the love of his lives'. shouldn't that be the 'loves of his life'. i'm not really au fait with all the terms. brushed off two guys from tassie wanting a threesome. yeauch. talked to a straight army guy who was nice. sunday was my pilot mate's leaving do, which was good. bumped into a mate from brissie on the customs ship back from a week chilling out on this beautiful reef watching for illegal fishermen...i'm sure there were other fun bits but i may have forgotten some things...
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