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Christmas celebrates birth: new life, new love, new hope

Colette L Livermore
Med J Aust 2009; 191 (11): 668-669. || doi: 10.5694/j.1326-5377.2009.tb03375.x
Published online: 7 December 2009

I reflected on all of this when I went out to a mission settlement, Kumanjai Creek (near Tennant Creek, in the Barkly region of the Northern Territory), with three sisters, Connie, Joyce and Theresa. We stood on slabs of cement as the women explained:

The old women swept away the dirt to reveal a date — 1945 — that they knew was scrawled in the cement.

We sat around a camp fire under an ancient gum tree, which stood as a silent witness to past events, and ate kangaroo tails, witchetty grubs and seeds the women had collected. They told stories of the day Joyce was taken away.

I tried to imagine:

In the last century, a large percentage of the women’s kinsmen were killed or displaced. The old people had mastery of the language of the land, but it was hard to regroup in a new and alien world. They were powerless, landless and their ancient skills were not valued. The keepers and owners of country became outcasts and margin dwellers. They knew each plant, animal and water soakage. They knew medicinal bark, the goanna holes, bush raisins and tomatoes, and the roots that harbour witchetty grubs. They survived in one of the harshest environments in the world. They are resilient people whose roots tap deep into the red soil. The old people of Central Australia still remember how to survive. They also remember what happened to their people.

I have worked in East Timor,1 where, despite enormous poverty, the people are rebuilding their communities after a long period of destruction (related to the Indonesian occupation and resulting civil conflict). They have regained their sovereignty, and preserved their language and beliefs. They retain their hope while many of our own people do not. In East Timor, the thread of culture is not broken. The spirit and structure of society survives. The indigenous people still plant their corn, tend their caribou and thatch their houses as before. There are changes at the margin but the fabric of their society is not torn asunder.

Many towns in East Timor now have “sister cities” in Australia. There is contact and connection between East Timorese and Australian communities. What stops similar connections being forged within Australia itself, between coastal communities and the outback? Should we not face our history a little more squarely and admit that the atrocities were real, and not a delusion perpetuated by the “black-armband set”? Could a new understanding be reached between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians, who for too long have sat in opposing camps? The welfare of the people of Central Australia has been thought of as a “government issue” that the ordinary citizen, business sectors and non-government organisations have stayed out of, but this is changing. No one knows the way forward. It is a way we need to forge together. There is anger and suspicion to overcome; people have been hurt and damaged. Nothing will be easy.

The problems of the outback are social, but the consequences are medical. People need suitable housing, but ideally they should be involved in their design and construction and so have pride and personal investment in the buildings. They need support to maintain their buildings. Education is offered as a way out of the poverty trap of “sit-down money”, but still many children attend school irregularly and leave as soon as they can. Traineeships and apprenticeships are few, and work in general is scarce.

Poor physical health is a symptom of a deeper illness at the heart of Australia. Change will take a long time, but a groundswell of support and small projects may do more than top-down intervention. To paraphrase Marcus Aurelius: to work for change and stay on our feet, we don’t need the fancy footwork of the dancer, but the determination of the wrestler. If enough people, both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, stay engaged, we can work together towards healing. Then, perhaps, love will be reborn in the heart of our country.

  • Colette L Livermore1

  • Health Centre, Anyinginyi Health Aboriginal Corporation, Tennant Creek, NT.



  • 1. Livermore C. Hope endures. Sydney: William Heinemann, 2008.

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