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QIFVLS Gala Dinner

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Social Justice

 

Acknowledgements:

It is with respect and gratitude that I acknowledge that we sit today on the lands of the Gimuy Walubara Yidinji. Thank you to Henrietta Marrie for your generous welcome to country.

My people are the Gangulu from the Dawson Valley in Central Queensland. On behalf of my Elders I also pay tribute to your Elders, both past and present, for their continued struggle for their country and their culture.

I would also like to acknowledge all the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander family violence community workers here today- you do an immensely challenging and important job, often with little thanks.

Introduction:

I’ve been asked to speak with you tonight about lateral violence and how it relates to your work in family violence. Let me start by saying that addressing lateral violence is one of those areas that I am really passionate about. Every time I talk about it with communities, it seems to really connect with personal experiences and there is a real appetite to do something about it.

So, what is lateral violence?

Lateral violence is described by Richard Frankland as ‘internalised colonialism’ and includes:

the organised, harmful behaviours that we do to each other collectively as part of an oppressed group; within our families, within our organisations and within our communities. Lateral violence is the expression of rage and anger, fear and terror that can only be safely vented upon those closest to us when we are being oppressed.[1]

The concept of lateral violence explains that this behaviour is often the result of disadvantage, discrimination and oppression, and that it arises from working within a society that is not designed for our way of doing things.

Examples of lateral violence are gossip, jealousy, feuding, bullying and violence ranging from social, emotional and physical. Lateral violence is not just an individual’s behaviour. It often occurs when a number of people work together to attack or undermine another individual or group.

These behaviours are not unique to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities. People everywhere deal with similar behaviours on a daily basis but what makes lateral violence different for us is that stems from the sense of powerlessness that comes from a past of oppression.

And while lateral violence has its roots in our history, it thrives today because power imbalances, control by others, identity conflict, negative stereotypes and trauma continue to feed it.

Noel Pearson recalls a conversation with Paul Keating where sums up lateral violence beautifully:

The problem with your mob is you’re like crabs in a bucket. If one of you starts climbing out and gets his claws on the rim, about to pull himself over the top to freedom, the other mob will be pulling him back down into the bucket. You all end up cooked.

And that is the point. Our communities are being held back because of lateral violence.

Lateral violence can effect just about every aspect of our lives but tonight I will focus in on two aspects. Firstly, how lateral violence contributes to the cycle of family violence and secondly, lateral violence in the workplace.

What are the connections between lateral violence and family violence?

The research linking lateral violence and family violence is still limited. There is much work that needs to be done in this area and we need to be very careful in how we approach it. But when I travel around the country talking to people I am often given powerful anecdotal evidence about the link.

Let me be clear, I think it is probably a mistake to reduce the complexity of family violence down to the single cause of lateral violence. We know from a lot of evidence that alcohol, overcrowding, lack of education and employment opportunities, experience of violence, abuse and other underlying factors can all contribute to family violence. Nonetheless, I think lateral violence is part of an explosive mix in some cases.

Lateral violence helps explain how a history of dispossession, marginalisation and trauma can erupt against those who are closest to us.

Marcia Langton has also identified this link between family violence and lateral violence, saying that:

[T]he most at risk of lateral violence in its raw physical form are family members, and in the main, the most vulnerable members of the family: old people, women and children. Especially the children.[2]

The legacy of dispossession and intergenerational trauma contributes to the situation where as Greg Phillips puts it- people try and ‘feel powerful in a powerfuless situation’.

This does not mean for one second, that I excuse family violence and the harm it does to our families and communities. But it does mean that when we look at why family violence occurs and what we can do about it, perhaps we need to think about addressing lateral violence as well.

As all of you working with victims know, getting people to disclose is a major challenge. This is especially the case where there is a lack of trust in the criminal justice system and support services like those offered by your service are so stretched.

However, I think that lateral violence also contributes to this non-disclosure, creating a situation where individuals and groups bully and intimidate victims to prevent them from coming forward.

Let me explain how this plays out in communities. A survey of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander community safety found:

[F]ear of further violence and ‘payback’, or culturally related violent retribution, were the most common reasons for women not reporting violent victimisation. [3]

It is not just fear for themselves that prevents women from disclosing but also the possibility that disclosure of violence or abuse will lead to violence between families or in the wider community. For example, the APY Lands Commission Inquiry into sexual abuse found evidence of serious assaults, including a ‘mass brawl’ resulting from child abuse and sexual assault allegations.

Those in positions of power can prevent disclosure by socially, culturally and economically excluding victims and their families. Again, the APY Lands Inquiry heard evidence from a witness about the consequences of disclosure of crimes who said:

It’s to do with people in positions of power and judging by the closing of ranks and no-one being prepared to talk. A whole family can find themselves without food, house access etc because they are blocked by those in power and everyone keeps quiet.[4]

When crimes are not disclosed we have a culture of silence where victims remain voiceless and powerless. This undermines individual and community wellbeing and perpetuates toxic power structures which can fuel the cycle of lateral violence and family violence.

Lateral Violence directed at community workers

Let me now turn to the other example of lateral violence that I flagged before- lateral violence in the workplace.

I am continually impressed by the amazing job that community workers do for our people, often in very challenging circumstances. But unfortunately, lateral violence can make the job even more difficult.

Lateral violence in the workplace comes in the form of bullying, exclusion, spreading rumours, undermining colleagues- all of the things that make work miserable and distract us from why we are there in the first place.

I really hope that your organisation has a culture that supports workers but the unfortunately I do hear a lot of stories from people who are struggling with these sorts of situations.

Workplaces can become toxic when lateral violence takes over. Our organisations can become a battle ground for feuds and bullying to be played out. The weapons here are nepotism, gossiping and harassment. When our organisations are under siege from lateral violence, their effectiveness is diminished.

The other way lateral violence can play out in the workplace is when workers are subjected to suffer unfair criticism from their communities. Often it boils down to really nasty attacks on cultural identity.

Part of the cyclical nature of lateral violence is that people who are seen as successful, people who have good jobs within community, are often the targets of lateral violence in their communities because they are seen as ‘not ‘community’ enough. I’m sure we can all think of numerous examples of these sorts of insults. Insults that really cut to quick of who we are and our identity as Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

To avoid further victimisation, these individuals can disengage from their communities because it is not worth the risk of such hurt. Paradoxically, this leads to further questions about their community connections and ‘authenticity’ as an Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander person.

Lateral violence is not only damaging work environments but also extends to their home life. Josie Winsor, writing about Aboriginal health workers says:

[T]he unusual situation of the Aboriginal ...worker is that we work and live in the same community and the ‘horizontal violence’ is not only experienced within the workplace, but also in our personal lives.[5]

You all know better than most that community workers don’t really knock off work at five or even have a weekend off. The pressures are phenomenal so it is really devastating to cop this sort of abuse from our own communities.

How do we start healing lateral violence?

So how do we start to heal lateral violence?

Firstly, I think we need to take a zero tolerance approach, in our organisations and our communities. We need to name lateral violence and create awareness about how it is affecting our communities. It is about taking responsibility to make sure we look after our relationships within our communities.

More broadly though, I think the way to answer is in creating cultural safety and security, based on the human rights principles in the Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. A culturally safe and secure environment is one where our people feel safe and draw strength in their identity, culture and community. Lateral violence on the other hand, undermines and attacks identity, culture and community.

Your work already does a lot of contribute to cultural safety and security- you do your best to make the legal system culturally compatible with our communities and you help legal professionals and other workers be more culturally competent.

There are challenges for governments and other groups to make sure that they work with communities in a way that enables us, rather than creates divisions and tensions that contribute to lateral violence. I think the Declaration is instrumental in achieving this. I continue to urge government to put it into practice.

Confronting lateral violence will take courage and leadership. But facing up to tough issues is not new for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities. We are in a room tonight with a group of people who do that every day in their work addressing family violence.

And my point is that if we can start addressing lateral violence, we will also go some way to addressing family violence as well. It is time now, to shed the negative labels – those tracing back from the days of colonisation and those used by communities against each other. It is time to take back control of our rich, resilient, and varied Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander identity together.


[1] R Frankland, Presentation to Social Justice Unit staff, 14 March 2011.
[2] M Langton, ‘The end of “big men” politics’ (2008) 22 Griffith Review 11, p 15. At http://griffithreview.com/edition-22-moneysexpower/the-end-of-big-men-politics (viewed 21 September 2011).
[3] M Willis, Non-disclosure of violence in Australian Indigenous communities, Australian Institute of Criminology, Trends and issues in crime and criminal justice No 405 (2011), p 4. At http://www.aic.gov.au/publications/current%20series/tandi/401-420/tandi405.aspx (viewed 30 August 2011).
[4] E P Mulligan, Children on Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara (APY) Lands Commission Inquiry: A report into sexual abuse (2008), p 110.
[5] J Winsor ‘Workplace bullying’ (2001) 25(3) Aboriginal and Islander Health Worker Journal 4, p 5.

Mick Gooda, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Social Justice Commissioner