Fieldnotes : Learning to Acknowledge Country Meaningfully
I was born in the late 1970s on Whadjuk Noongar country, in a place we now call Subiaco — a suburb in the city of Perth, Western Australia. When I was growing up as a white, middle class kid, indigenous history was not something that was ever explained at school or celebrated. There were certain times when indigenous affairs were more present in the media, but not usually for positive reasons (e.g. the tragedy surrounding aboriginal deaths in custody and the battle to protect the Old Swan Brewery site stand out in my memory). I went to school with a few indigenous kids over the years, but never had the opportunity to form friendships with them. As I became a young adult and started spending more time in the inner city rather than in the suburbs, aboriginal people were more present, often hanging out in the city. Again, I never had the opportunity to get to know them, but I recognise now in hindsight, since I moved to Melbourne in the late 1990s, that there was a greater day to day presence of indigenous folks in Perth in comparison to what I have experienced in Melbourne.
That is a bit about my personal background and context.
In the past decade or so I have worked in corporate and education type environments, and the Acknowledgement of Country has become a more common custom at the beginning of meetings etc. Although, in the small, technology focussed places where have spent the most time working, I’m disappointed to say it remains quite rare.
Something I really enjoy doing is organising events to bring people together to share knowledge and to network, so I find myself doing the opening speech and initial greeting at public gatherings at least a few times a year. I include the Acknowledgment of Country, and I take it very seriously. But to be honest, I feel clumsy trying to remember the words. And am I always nervous that it isn’t coming across well.
When my friend Sam Rye shared on social media about a course called Acknowledging Country Meaningfully, it resonated strongly as addressing something I wanted to improve in myself, so I signed up immediately. The course was still under development at that stage so I had to wait a month or so until it went live.
The experience of doing the course was quite unique and refreshing.
The facilitator Will Austin is sitting in the bush, talking into a camera (I’m assuming his mobile phone). The course is broken up into over 60 lessons, each of which are around 5–10 minutes, and is a few hours in total. Some of the lessons are stories, others are describing more structured methodologies, and a couple are Will performing traditional songs.
Through one lens, one might say that the production quality is unusually low for a course that you pay for. For example, sometimes the wind is blowing over the microphone which can be a bit distracting. But I would say that it is put together perfectly. The course captures an authenticity that I think would be impossible to do any other way. A favourite moment was when Will was chased away mid lesson by a mob of emus who had wandered by. It wasn’t scripted, and Will didn’t sensationalise it. It is just part of the reality of living and being and teaching and learning on the land.
As I am coming to understand more broadly in life and particularly in relation to indigenous wisdoms there is a paradox here — to try hard or to overthink how to produce the course would not have made it any better, it would have detracted from it. Rather, by having Will just be present and authentic, the real messages were able to flow through much more strongly.
In terms of the content in the course, it is very rich. Will has weaved stories of indigenous history, and those of his own life and family. He is clear about what wisdom it is appropriate for him to share, and he explains that there are some stories which only particular people have the right to share and they are therefore not included in the course — I appreciated that this care was being taken, and that I wasn’t somehow inadvertently taking part in something that doesn’t respect the cultural laws.
I didn’t totally know what to expect going into the course, but what I emerged with is an understanding that for a white person to acknowledge country meaningfully requires being authentic and perhaps even a bit vulnerable — to tell real stories and to express real emotions, rather than just robotically reading a script. And the guidance Will offered was that this approach if taken by a white person like me, it would be welcomed by indigenous people, as long as the intent is good.
Just last week, I hosted my first in person event in years (thanks to the pandemic), and hence the first time since I was welcoming a group of people since had done the course. I was both excited and nervous to put my new perspective and skills into practice. The event I was opening was to do with my work at RMIT FORWARD (Centre for Future Skills and Workforce Transformation). I shared with the group that as part of our own reconciliation journey, we engaged indigenous artist Troy Firebrance to create artwork for the walls, we bought furniture from the indigenous furniture company Winya, and we worked with an indigenous film maker Simon Rose to help capture our story. I expressed that I am genuinely thankful and excited to be working directly with indigenous people, and to be able to take inspiration from their exquisite artwork and stories.
I acknowledge and take seriously the history indigenous ownership of the land on which we live and work. This landed was invaded and stolen. Sovereignty has never been ceded. There is no treaty. It always was and always will be, Aboriginal land.
I am energised however by the possibilities of the here and now, and the future of what we can all do in collaboration and in partnership. I am enjoying for the first time in my life have the opportunity to collaborate with indigenous colleagues, and it doesn’t even feel like it is different or separate — but rather that our respective experience and perspective enriches and complement each other, and that we can work together towards a better life for all and a healthier planet by leveraging the strengths that indigenous thinking brings.
