Family
Anthology
Contents Foreword. . . . . .............. Dr Kaye Price........................................................... . . . 5 Poem. . . . . . . . . . .............. Living Literature. ....................................................... . . 7 Poem. . . . . . . . . . .............. Respect. .................................................................. . . 8
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Speech extract............ The Prime Minister’s Sorry speech................................ . . 10 Artwork. . . . . . ............... Sorry..................................................................... . . 14 Personal recount. . ........ A boy’s story. ........................................................... . . 15 Poem. . . . . . . . . . .............. A Kangaroo is in the Sky. ............................................ . . 18 Description (factual)..... Homes are sought for these children.............................. . 20 Artwork. . . . . . ............... Stolen Removed........................................................ . 21 Artwork. . . . . . ............... Finding My Family. ..................................................... . 22
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Diary excerpt.............. Who am I? The Diary of Mary Talence, Sydney 1937............ . 23 Song lyrics.. . ............... Took the Children Away.............................................. . . 28 Song lyrics.. . ............... The Children Came Back. ............................................ . 30 Screen-play extract. ..... Bran Nue Dae.......................................................... . . 32 Explanation. ............... Aboriginal kinship system............................................ . 33 Diagram. . . . . ............... Kukatja Pattern of Life. . ............................................... . 37 Personal recount. . ........ Jabanbi. .................................................................. . 38 Play. . . . . . . . . . . ............... Kin Island................................................................. . 44 Artwork. . . . . . ............... Drivers of our own destiny............................................ . 49 Poem. . . . . . . . . . .............. Seasonal Revelations.................................................. 50 Personal recount ......... What it’s all about: family. ........................................... . 51 Book excerpt............... My Place................................................................. . 53
Living Literature Dr Jeanine Leane, Wiradjuri poet
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trees are old stories
pods and seeds are words that grow bark chapters fall to earth
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turn to dust scatter and renew wood is a deep archive
an ancient custodian of memories
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Took the children away Archie Roach a proud Gunditjmara and Bundjalung man
This story’s right, this story’s true
You took the children away
I would not tell lies to you
The children away
Like the promises they did not keep
Breaking their mother’s heart
And how they fenced us in like sheep
Tearing us all apart
Said to us come take our hand
Took them away
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Sent us off to mission land Taught us to read, to write and pray Then they took the children away
…
Took them away
My mother cried go get their dad Mother’s tears were falling down
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Snatched from their mother’s breast Said this is for the best
Come and didn’t give a damn He came running, fighting mad
Took the children away The children away
One dark day on Framingham
Dad shaped up and stood his ground. He said “You touch my kids and you fight me” And they took us from our family
The welfare and the policeman
…
Said you’ve got to understand
Took us away
We’ll give them what you can’t give
They took us away
Teach them how to really live
Snatched from our mother’s breast
Teach them how to live they said
Said this was for the best
Humiliated them instead
Took us away
Taught them that and taught them this And others taught them prejudice
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Told us what to do and say Told us all the white man’s ways Then they split us up again And gave us gifts to ease the pain Sent us off to foster homes As we grew up we felt alone Cause we were acting white Yet feeling black
… One sweet day all the children came back
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The children came back The children came back Back where their hearts grow strong Back where they all belong The children came back Said the children came back
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The children came back
Back where they understand Back to their mother’s land The children came back
… Back to their mother Back to their father Back to their sister Back to their brother Back to their people Back to their land
All the children came back The children came back
Archie Roach,
who wrote and recorded this song, was three or four when he was taken from his parents. He never saw them again. When the song was released in 1990, it won an international Human Rights Award. It was the first time the award had been given to a songwriter.
Roach was made a Member of the Order of Australia for his lifetime contribution to arts and culture. In November 2020, Roach was inducted into the ARIA Hall of Fame. He collaborated with many musicians, including his partner Ruby Hunter. He ran the Archie Roach Foundation to improve opportunities for young First Nations people through art and culture. He spread a powerful message of reconciliation and healing, and was a strong campaigner for First Nations rights. Archie Roach died on Saturday, 30 July 2022, after a remarkable life.
The children came back Yes I came back OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
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The Children Came Back
Briggs (Yorta Yorta) and Dr G. Yunupingu (member of the Gumatj clan)
This song was first performed on radio station Triple J’s “Like a Version” segment, where musicians play a song of their own and one that they love by another musician. Briggs had planned to do another song, but then he realised it was a great chance to honour Archie Roach as well as to showcase the incredible achievements of other First Nations people.
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I’m Fitzroy where the stars be I’m Wanganeen in ’93 (uh-huh) I’m Mundine, I’m Cathy FreeMan, that fire inside of me I’m Adam Goodes, and Adam should Be applauded when he stand up You can look to us when that time stop
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I’m Patty Mills with the last shot (yeah)
… I’m Doug Nicholls, I’m Jimmy Little With a royal telephone (son) I’m the world champ in ’68 Boy, I’m Lionel Rose (son)
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I’m William Cooper, I take a stand
When no one even knows (uh-huh)
I’m the walk off, I’m the sound of (what?) The children coming home
…
The children came back
I’m the dead hearts’ heartbeat The children came back I’m the dead hearts’ heartbeat Back where their hearts grow strong Back where they all belong The children came back I’m the dead hearts’ heartbeat The children came back
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
What is the significance of repeating “The children came back” as the chorus? What are the artists saying with this new version of Archie Roach’s song – why do you think they chose to write new verses and keep most of the chorus the same?
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Kin Island
Cast: STEPHANIE, a fourteen-year-old girl
Play by Gayle Kennedy, a Wongaiibon woman, adapted from Wuthathi, Yadhaigana and Meriam descendants Jaiki Pitt and Terri Janke’s novel Kin Island.
JAKE, twelve-year-old brother of Stephanie MUM, Stephanie and Jake’s mother DAD, Stephanie and Jake’s father BEDE, a Torres Strait Islander tour guide GRANNY BETTY, Jake and Stephanie’s aunty MISS STONE, Jake’s teacher SHANE, Jake’s best friend
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ACT ONE The setting is a kitchen. The family is sitting around the table eating dinner. STEPHANIE: (Making a face at her brother) Jake got into trouble today, Mum and Dad.
JAKE: (Sitting down) Well the tomato was hot, the bread was soggy and the owl looked hungry.
JAKE: (Glaring at STEPHANIE) You dobber!
MUM: (With a smile on her face) So what made you think it would eat a tomato sandwich? Surely it couldn’t be good for owls.
DAD: (Looking furious) What?
JAKE: Well, you guys expected me to eat it!
MUM: (Looking around at the family) Settle down. Now just what happened today Jake?
Both parents glare at JAKE. STEPHANIE: And that’s not all. The owl started eating the sandwich and tomato got stuck in his beak and he started smashing it against the chair and his beak got caught in the chair. He started squawking and upset the rest of the animals and the zookeeper went red and the kids burst out laughing.
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JAKE: It wasn’t bad!
STEPHANIE: He just embarrassed himself. (Turning to her brother) Didn’t you Jake! JAKE: (Looking embarrassed) I didn’t mean to.
DAD: Stop mucking round and tell us what happened.
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STEPHANIE: You want me to tell them Jake?
JAKE: (Looking angry) You go ahead, big noter!
STEPHANIE: Well, (takes a big breath) the visiting zoo came to school and the zookeeper was showing us the birds and there was this owl called Barney. The zookeeper took Barney out of the cage so we could see how tame he was and how he could fly across the room on command. But Jake made him crazy and almost killed Barney! JAKE: (Jumping up in his chair) I DID NOT! I just gave him my tomato sandwich.
MUM: (Looking sadly at JAKE) When are you ever going to learn, Jake? JAKE: Look, the zookeeper was talking about how the owl was a special totem of Aboriginal people and he was looking at me. DAD: So? JAKE: Well, Miss Stone asked me to stand up and tell the class about my totem. Like I’m supposed to know. When I stood up I didn’t know what to say cos I don’t know what our totem is. Everyone was looking at me, I had to do something, so I threw my sandwich at the owl and the bird went crazy and the school cracked up and I didn’t have to say anything.
DAD: Sit down son. Now why didn’t you eat your sandwich? I made that for you. OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
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My Place
Sally Morgan belongs to the Palku-Nyamal peoples from the eastern Pilbara region of Western Australia My Place tells the true story of Aboriginal artist and writer Sally Morgan, who grew up in Perth in the 1950s and 1960s, during the time of the government’s Assimiliation policy. In this excerpt, Sally talks about how she realised her close and loving family was somehow different from the families of other kids at school. It was a long time before Sally found out why and how her family was different – but eventually they gained a proud acceptance of their Palku heritage.
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Each year, our house seemed to get smaller. In my room, we had two single beds lashed together and a double kapok mattress plonked on top. Jill, Billy and I slept in there, sometimes David too, and, more often than not, Nan as well. I loved that mattress. Whenever I lay on it, I imagined I was sinking into a bed of feathers, just like a fairy princess.
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The kids at school were amazed to hear that I shared a bed with my brother and sister. I never told them about the times we’d squeezed five in that bed. All my classmates had their own beds; some even had their own rooms. I considered them disadvantaged. I couldn’t explain the happy feeling of warm security I felt when we all snuggled in together. OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
Also, I found some of their attitudes to their brothers and sisters hard to understand. They didn’t seem to really like one another, and you never caught them together at school. We were just the opposite. Billy, Jill and I always spoke in the playground, and we often walked home together, too. We felt our family was the most important thing in the world. One of the girls in my class said accusingly one day, “Aah, you lot stick like glue”. You’re right, I thought, we do. The kids at school had also begun asking us what country we came from. This puzzled me because, up until then, I’d thought we were the same as them. If we insisted that we came from Australia, they’d reply, “Yeah, but what about ya parents, bet they didn’t come from Australia.” 53
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… I’d thought we were the same as them.”
One day, I tackled Mum about it as she washed the dishes.
“Are we really?” Indian! It sounded so exotic. “When did we come here?”
“What do you mean, ‘Where do we come from?’”
“A long time ago,” Mum replied. “Now, no more questions. You just tell them you’re Indian.”
“The kids at school want to know what country we come from. They reckon we’re not Aussies.”
It was good to have an answer, and it satisfied our playmates. They could quite believe we were Indian; they just didn’t want us pretending we were Aussies when we weren’t.
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Mum was silent. Nan grunted in a cross sort of way, then got up from the table and walked outside. “Come on, Mum, what are we?” “What do the kids at school say?” “Italian, Greek, Indian ... ”
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“Tell them you’re Indian.”
Do you think Sally’s mother is telling the truth? Why, or why not? Why might Sally’s mother have responded like this?
Author Sally Morgan
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