NAIDOC Awards - Acceptance Speech
[Thank you in Bunuba]
I acknowledge the Gadigal people of the Eora nation of the land we stand on, their elders, past, present and emerging.
I prepared a few words in case this happened – I want to make sure that I speak with the integrity that all our Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Women’s Voices deserve.
This is an absolute honour, particularly this year, the year of ‘because of her, we can!’ I accept this tonight for all the Bunuba people, my mob, all the people and language groups of the Fitzroy Valley, my family, friends and mentors, just so many names. We all know, for us, it isn’t just a lifetime worth of family and friendships to thank. We would be here for a millennia if I were to read out all the deeply held connections that make me, all of us, who we are today.
Instead of names I want to accept this award with a personal acknowledgment of where I have come from. My story gives an insight into our collective history as Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, and of particular importance tonight it gives recognition to the strength and tenacity of our women.
Without question, this award is for my mother and grandmother –
These fierce and independent Bunuba women stood on the precipice of change. During a time of violent upheaval my grandmother was a survivor. She was one of the many Kimberley women caught within the horrors of the frontier, exposed to what is called the ‘killing times’: the massacres, disease, and abuse which threatened to dispossess our people, and worse destroy our society. She gave birth to my mother in the leprosarium. When she returned to our traditional country, to what had become a cattle property in her absence, she like women across this country remained uncompromising and unrelenting in being all that she was.
She refused to let my mother be educated by white people. Entirely distrusting of their knowledge frameworks and institutions, she said, ‘I will teach you everything you need to know.’ On her country, on her terms, she grew both my mother and myself up in my early life. She traversed our land, a highly skilled navigator and educator. In Bunuba she would call the country into being, naming every plant, rock and water site, seeing and feeling the interactions between the seasons, the surrounding environment, the country and us.
When later I attended the mission school in Fitzroy Crossing I had my grandmothers and my mother’s voices in my mind. Because of them, my ancestor’s spirits and knowledge drove my determination to learn and succeed, while never relinquishing any aspect of my Indigenous womanhood. Even with the pain of extended periods of separation from my mothers and family, I learnt to walk in both worlds.
This connection of family support, of motherly lineage and teaching was severed for so many who were stolen. But our stolen generation’s resilience is like no other. Like my grandmother they too are our survivors.
The stories of our survivors bestow vital learnings to all of us, of our inherent values of intergenerational care, learning and responsibility. I am, we are, because of them. In the expression of my identity as an Indigenous woman, in my imaginings for the future, is the imprint of our incredible heritage and the essence of my grandmother, and all our women who have nurtured us into being.
Their voices are within us all. When we speak, we speak with the power of our ancestral knowledge. We must be heard to unleash all that we are and claim our rightful place. And when I speak to our women and girls, I am also talking to our men and boys. Because when our women are heard, we weave into being the societal networks that have made our families and communities thrive since a time immemorial. Our voices, heard and responded to, will be the making of a stronger nation.
As the first woman to be the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Social Justice Commissioner, I accept this award with the full responsibility of carrying your voices, and I am committed to making what you say count. Let me tell you that this year I hear you, I hear our Women’s Voices our Wiyi Yani U Thangani. You are here, you are not silent, you are not invisible. Our voices are rising loud and clear.
I want every woman in this room to stand, including our non-Indigenous sisters to stand with our rising voice. Stand up together now. Look around and recognise the power that resides in you all. You all have unique and diverse talents and gifts. As Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women, and our sisters who support us, we must be unshakable in our resolve to be everything that we are and always have been. We cannot bend for this world, let the world bend for us and it will be the better for it.
Now, I want every man in this room to stand up. Stand beside us. You are our partners in this journey. Whatever anger we feel, do not turn on each other, let us channel it into a great momentum for change. Only together, shoulder to shoulder, will we raise the next generations into being. Together we will shape a world that we are proud for our children to inherit.
So let me hear you all say it because of her, I can! Because of her, we all can, and we will.
Tonight we must celebrate our survival and remarkable strengths that reach through time so we can live them in the present. Enjoy the night, and remember: be all of who we are, for the here and now, and for our tomorrows.
Thank you, so much.