BLAK on Campus: Racism, BLM, and more from the voices of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander USyd Students and Staff
Irene Higgins
2020 has been an ‘interesting’ year for most, but especially for the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander community. Despite all of the wonderful positive contributions that have been made towards Indigenous recognition and rights this year, we have also seen a lot of outrage and loss. The ongoing bulldozing of the Djab Wurrung directions and birthing trees by the Victorian Government, the destruction of Juukan Gorge caves by Rio Tinto in Western Australia, the refusal by the Australian Senate to hang the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander flags during NAIDOC Week, and our own Prime Minister’s refusal to acknowledge that Indigenous people were enslaved in this country, has left many feeling angry, hurt and disappointed, myself included.
Meanwhile, on campus, University students and staff have been faced with their own issues impacting upon Indigenous communities. At the beginning of semester, the Deputy Vice-Chancellor, Professor Lisa Jackson Pulver, made a callout to the government for more funding for their Indigenous students, without which they predicted a steep drop in enrolment, progression and completion numbers. Similarly, with the recent budget cuts, the University has yet again decided to strip the Indigenous Studies Major of its funding causing more Indigenous-focused units to be removed. This also presents a problem within Usyd’s workforce, as Indigenous staff represent a larger component of the university’s casual and fixed-term employment network, leading to less job security and risking a lack of representation.
In light of these events, I decided to have a yarn with fellow Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander students and staff on campus to gather some perspective on their experiences as young, deadly, blak voices. My hope is that by sharing these stories, people can learn more about what it is like to be a proud Indigenous Australian at this university. Given the sensitive nature of the issues discussed, their privacy is being protected, and their names withheld.
How did the Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement this year shape your views on how Indigenous Australians are treated or viewed in this country?
M: The Black Lives Matter movement didn’t have to happen for me to know that racism is alive and well in Australia. Because of the colour of my skin, it has always been very clear to me. Hopefully, it did educate people because it brought out a lot of information regarding Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians, and it was a good opportunity for Indigenous people to be noticed.
It was a scary time. The protests put attention on dark-skinned Indigenous people and I was scared to go to a march - any march - and be targeted by police. I know I wasn't the only Indigenous person who felt this way. As much as I support the actions of those protesters, I couldn’t go out of fear.
N: This movement has shown that we in Australia - predominantly the non-Indigenous Australians - have been blind to the mistreatment of its First Nations people. The fact that Australians were better able to recognise the mistreatment of black people in a country other than their own just shows how ignorant Australia has been. Non-Indigenous Australians need to reflect on their own history, actions, and how they treat us Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people.
S: It didn’t change anything about my views on how Indigenous Australians are treated in this country because I already knew. I already knew that black deaths in custody were terrible. My aunt's brother who was Indigenous died in custody, so that issue, in particular, is very close to my heart.
It was very different to see my white friends from high school coming forward about these issues on behalf of my community. The question on my mind was, ‘Where was this in high school?’ It was a positive, however, to have old school mates reach out and ask me what businesses to support and what they could do to help the movement. So, while this didn’t change my views on how Indigenous Australians are mistreated in this country, I will say that it changed my view on how others may perceive these issues.
T: This is an interesting one. Personally, because I have been surrounded by mob for a while, I knew a lot about what mistreatment of Indigenous people was like in this country. Attending Invasion Day protests and Yabun festivals, you are constantly reminded of what the treatment of Indigenous people in the justice system is like. What the Black Lives Matter movement has shown me, however, is that a lot of people in Australia are still unaware of what is going on in our country.
While the movement was incredible for POC justice in America and getting the message out there, and brought to surface how incredibly corrupt the justice system is, the same recognition was not offered to the problems we face in Australia. Everyone I spoke to agreed that George Floyd and Breonna Taylor deserved justice, but they didn’t understand that we have those same problems here. They thought that the protests in Australia were just us copycatting America and following along with the latest trends. When I asked them who Tanya Day or David Dungay were, they didn’t know. I pointed out to them that David said the same haunting words that George did… ‘I can’t breathe.’
Overall, I think this movement did not teach me anything new about the issues we face as Indigenous people in Australia. It did, however, bring to light how much Australia doesn’t know about their own history. Some people ignorantly think that we’re lucky to live in Australia, and while I think the Black Lives Matter movement shed some light on this ignorance, I believe that a more lasting impact was made on the American system. It is hard to get a message out there unless people are actively seeking knowledge about what is happening. If people aren’t exposed to it, they have no idea.
What is a common misconception about First Nations People that you wish non-Indigenous people knew about?
M: As a Torres Strait Islander, I think one of the biggest misconceptions that I come across is that people do not understand that we are also an important part of the Indigenous culture of Australia. People often perceive ‘Aboriginal’ and ‘Indigenous’ as being the same thing, which is incorrect. A lot of people don't understand or acknowledge that Torres Strait Islanders are Indigenous too, and tell me quite forwardly that they don’t know anything about my people. Sometimes I see this as a chance to educate, and other times it angers me. It’s in the title ‘Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders’ and we deserve recognition too.
N: The most common misconception about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people is that we are violent, non-intelligent abusers of drugs and alcohol. We’re seen as the ‘angry blackfulla.’ We as First Nations peoples are peaceful and we take care of the land of which we belong to.
We are also often seen as just being gifted in sports and not in education. One of the biggest misconceptions that bugs me, however, is how Australia remembers what happened to our people. The stolen generations, the stolen wages… It wasn’t that long ago! Australia needs to recognise that in order to understand what it is that our people went and are going through. Also Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are not just black-skinned.
S: I entered into medicine through the Gadigal program and it gave me total imposter syndrome. I vividly remember my first year at uni. Someone asked what degree I was studying and then asked me what ATAR I got. When they found out that I got in through the Gadigal program with a 98 ATAR, they stopped talking to me. It was embarrassing and infuriating. After that, I started lying to people and telling them that I studied Science so that they wouldn’t question whether or not I had a right to be there, or I would lie about my ATAR. Otherwise, you’re faced with a judgemental ‘oh’ and you’re left not feeling good enough to be in that classroom. Now I just tell them that I’m studying medicine. I’m fair-skinned. I’m Indigenous. Yes, I did get in through the Gadigal program, and I deserve to be here like everyone else.
Could you please share an experience you have had with racism?
M: Racism isn’t something that I experience every day, but I’ve certainly experienced it on a few occasions in the last year. You can’t hide from it, and you’re never prepared for it because you never know when it’s coming.
On one occasion this year, I was visiting a hospital in western NSW. The hospital manager refused to speak to me because I was black. It wasn’t that she said anything explicitly racist, but you could see it in the way that she acted. Because I was with other people at the time, they were also able to confirm it, but sometimes that’s not the case. Sometimes you can deny that people are being racist towards you because you want to think the best of people, but this was blatant.
Later, the people I was with asked me why I didn’t put up a fight, but I didn’t know the community in that area and didn’t want to disrespect them. It was not my space to fight it and it was not my right, because that land was not my home. If it had happened back on my land, it would have been different, but I could not misrepresent the community who lived there in that way.
That community mindset is something that I don't think many people understand. I think it is once of the biggest cultural losses that have arisen out of people being taken away from their communities. Those who were raised in remote communities understand that there are kinship systems and that you have to think about the community at all costs, but those who are born without that grow up with a different understanding. Most Indigenous people I know now walk in two worlds where you have to be a master of both. I think that can be difficult when you live in the city.
N: One instance of racism which I wish people knew more about was the unconscious bias and systemic racism that is embedded into the education system. Like many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander university students, I had to leave my community behind to move to the city so that I could study here. In doing so, I had to move away from my family - and for us, ‘family’ is more than just your parents and siblings - it's your community and a safety net. My community and my culture was where all of my confidence, courage, and energy came from. That community tie disappears when you come into university life. We lose one of our most valuable assets: culture. Dancing is our teaching - we are telling stories so that our next generation can carry that into the future or adapt it in a way that can give them strength.
For me and my mob, English is our third language. We had to adapt to a white curriculum and learn to write, talk, and think in a Western way. It was a massive culture shock that we weren’t prepared for. You shouldn’t expect a child to be able to handle that on their own… but that’s exactly what university does.
The support services that are offered at university are not culturally appropriate, and children suffer internally with the fact that they have been stripped away from family, culture and their source of confidence. I believe this is a big reason why Indigenous students struggle to get through their first year of university. Not many people know that of the small number of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders who do make it to university, only 4 out of 10 complete their degree. It is something that I am hopeful will be addressed in time. I think of it like the nanny goat tracks from home. We navigate through the bushes, shrubs, and barriers for our mob so that the path is more clear for the next person, and the person after that. At the moment, home is a one-way $1,000 trip away. One day, I hope to offer support to someone so that they can visit community, like I wish the university had supported me when I was young.
S: At the beginning of this years’ NAIDOC week, my roommate said something incredibly racist to me. I was telling him how excited I was to celebrate with my fellow Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peers at an upcoming event. He told me not to get too caught up and to try and learn something about my own culture. I told him it was not his place to say that. He then started asking me a series of questions about my culture’s birthing and marriage rights, claiming that he knew more about my own community, and that I wasn’t Aboriginal enough to celebrate NAIDOC week. Eventually I walked away, but I knew he wouldn’t have said that to somebody who wasn’t fair-skinned.
People want you to rattle off customs, traditions, and do a cultural dance for them. Being Indigenous is about being connected to a community. With so many of us having lost that connection with culture and aren’t on Country to learn these things, we find connection in other ways. Being Indigenous in this day and age is more than just those traditions. It is about being connected with your community, supporting that community and remaining involved. Even though I have never been on Country, I am incredibly connected with the blakfullas at the University of Sydney.
Irene: I would also like to add to the points made by S that after hundreds of years of trying to extinguish Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander culture, it is highly insensitive to now question why it is that modern-day Indigenous people struggle to maintain it. This applies to language, knowledge, and the colour of our skin. Australia has a dark history of colonialism which has done irreparable damage, and the resilience of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities to have survived through those times deserves the utmost respect. As allies of First Nations people, please remain empathetic, understanding, and supportive of your Indigenous peers.
T: When I think of what racism in this country is like, I think back to an experience from high school. It was just a regular day. I was chilling out when one of the other students in my class came up to me and asked if I wanted to hear a joke. I said, ‘Sure, I love jokes.’
I could already sense that it was probably not going to be a very appropriate one. Then he said, ‘What do you call it when Aboriginals jump off the Harbour Bridge?’ I asked, reluctantly, ‘What?’ He answered, ‘Clean up Australia Day!’ I looked at him and said, ‘You know I’m Indigenous, right?’ He said, ‘Yes, that’s why I told you.’ What he said still sticks with me to this day.
Especially as I was only one of three Indigenous students at my high school, it felt incredibly targeted. The fact this person was also a person of colour made me feel conflicted and betrayed. As a young fair-skinned Aboriginal teenager, I was still trying to come to terms with my own Indigeneity. This incident made me doubt whether I was allowed to stand up for myself, and my community.
Conversely, what have been some positive interactions that you have had this year that give you hope in the fight against racism?
M: There’s always good things happening. It’s not all doom and gloom. I constantly have awesome interactions with people where we share knowledge, educate and talk to one another about culture. Most people are eager to hear and learn in an open, honest way, so most of my interactions have been positive.
T: I was having a casual day scrolling through Instagram. One of my friends posted a video of their nephews singing the national anthem in an Indigenous language. I DM’d her and replied to the story and said this is so adorable. She said he was so excited because they learned it at school. It gives me hope because when I was in primary school, that didn’t exist. We would have one Indigenous performance at the school once a year for NAIDOC Week but it felt very much like we were just ticking a box and then it would be forgotten for the rest of the year. It gave me hope that the younger generation were receiving exposure to Indgienous culture in an ingrained and meaningful way very early on. To see them excited about it and wanting to know more gives me hope for the future of this country.
N: I have seen a lot of authentic allies emerge that are willing to educate their fellow non-Indigenous Australians, instead of placing the burden on us. They are an advocate for the sharing of our stories, supporting black-owned businesses and promoting Indigenous success and culture without being disrespectful or condescending.
Speaking with these inspirational voices on campus left me feeling angry, and rightfully so. I was struck by something that N asked me as we were having a yarn. N asked how I was coping with the negativity that is often associated with these questions, and reminded me that we’re not superheroes. So often as First Nations people, we are called on to abandon our own passions, pursuits, and everyday life to fight for our people. To fight against the mining, burning, bulldozing and constant discrimination.
Young Indigenous students are already faced with so many challenges when arriving at university, and the lack of on-campus support, recognition, and understanding towards Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples only makes matters worse. It raises an important question: Why must we as young blackfullas be pressured to lead this conversation? Why do we have to constantly fight for and educate greater society about what they should already be doing and know?
In the fight against racism and towards reconciliation of the intergenerational effects of colonial genocide, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders need allies. Representing only 3% of the population in this country, we are outnumbered. This is as much a calling out as it is a call to action to our allies: Australia’s history is an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander history and it is incumbent upon all of us to step up to the plate and do the hard work now so that future generations are not left asking these same questions.
As a Wiradjuri woman, I would like to acknowledge that I live, study and work on the unceded lands of the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation. They always were and always will be the traditional custodians of this land. I wish to pay my respects to their Elders past, present and emerging, and extend that respect to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples studying and working at the University of Sydney. Your knowledge, cultural contributions, and community involvement is incredibly valuable. I would like to thank the five amazing, deadly people that contributed to this article, and I hope that this serves as a recognition that the voices of Indigenous people on campus will always be valued.
For those who wish to know where to begin in supporting Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples as an authentic ally, I would strongly encourage you to learn more about how Indigenous staff and students are treated by the university, and to read the Uluru Statement of the Heart. One of the most valuable things that Indigenous peoples can have is allies who support them having a Voice in the policies and laws that affect them, their communities, and their rights.