星空视频

Yaama.

I am an Indigenous elder, my family heritage is Gomeroi and Gangulu. 聽My grandfather鈥檚 people are from the Paroo River on the NSW side, my mother鈥檚 people are from the Yinggarda nation, the traditional owners of Gwoonardu/Carnarvon Gorges, the neck of the waters. There is a big inland river system, the Dawson River catchment, that flows into the Fitzroy River basin and on to the ocean. We are freshwater people and that was our life growing up. Growing up, we learned about the waters, the land and the food it provided, including game meats like kangaroo and emu. We learned how to cook what we hunted.

At that time, Indigenous families lived and worked on the big rural properties. Some of these were pretty remote. I was seven or eight before I went to school. My mother鈥檚 formal English education was passed on through the owner鈥檚 wife of the property we lived on. She also showed mum how to cook bread, pastries, cakes, tarts. Mum learned the preparation of food and that was part of our survival. My father did fencing work.

We had our camp off the Dawson River on the Queensland side, outside a 鈥榳histlestop鈥� which was an old steam train stop. We didn鈥檛 have a choice to live freely where we wanted to. When the 聽property owners wanted labour they could come and find it at our camp. Then Dad got a job at a coal mine, so we went to live in town, in Maura, in a miners鈥� cottage. It was the first time we lived in a house, and it was weird. A lot of us Aboriginal families had an open-door policy, that is our tradition. So, it was a big shock and it took ages to settle in and get used to.

Our biggest joy was travelling back to the Dawson River, and we did that on the weekends, we would go fishing, camping, catching up with family.

When I was about 16, I went out on my own. I lived and worked in Brisbane for a few years, staying with my Aunty Dawn in Ipswich and working at the Golden Circle Cannery. Then I spent two winters working at a poultry farm in Nundle which my sister and brother-in-law ran. When I was about 20, I came to Sydney. I went to live with my father鈥檚 cousin, my Aunty, who lived in Redfern. She worked in community education and at the Tranby Aboriginal college in Glebe. She did a lot of community work and was involved in the Black Theatre in Redfern 鈥� a real humanitarian. I had a lot of encouragement from her and her eldest son to do more formal education. They made me see the future in it, and to understand it was about more opportunity. I owe them a lot for their inspiration.

The big buzz word at that time was 鈥榮elf determination鈥�. That鈥檚 what encouraged me to start these studies. It was all about having some control over your destiny and your life. I took a couple of years to get the Certificate of General Education.

Growing up, apart from the fire being our TV, the main entertainment came from the Elders sharing cultural stories, from the beginning 鈥� our totems, our stories, astronomy and constellations. A lot of them didn鈥檛 have any formal or written education so this was done through storytelling, song and symbols.

My first wife and I had the idea of cultural retreats to keep that going. It was pretty testing to do this by then. The whole of society seemed to move pretty quickly.

I went back to Tranby for more formal education, doing pathways to higher education courses. After I finished a course in Community Service and Social Welfare, I lost my wife. My son was quite young, and I became a single parent for a while. Eventually, I had enough qualifications to work for TAFE NSW. I did commercial cookery and then transferred to Ryde College to do environmental programs in natural resource management. After that, I became a cultural liaison officer for Aboriginal students, writing curriculum and training programs.

I met my second wife, who was a teacher. The Federal Government was pushing Aboriginal tourism programs in Sydney, of which at the time there was none whatsoever. We took the opportunity and got a community loan from ATSIC and set out on a pathway to establish cultural tours and camps.

We moved to the Blue Mountains in the early 2000s, following the work. A group of us went in to get a bank loan to purchase a property in Portland, intended for cultural enterprises and environmental education groups. There were local politics to negotiate wherever we went. We formed a network to handle this, working with locals. I used to take groups of exchange students, as their tour guide and cook. They wanted to engage with Aboriginal communities, so we went to Broken Hill, South Australia, Central Australia, Alice Springs, Uluru, Kings Canyon 鈥� all the tourist places. Big jobs like that took me away for at least three months of the year, which put pressure on my family life.

My wife and I separated in 2009 and I went back to hospitality. I got work at restaurants in Richmond, Newtown, Surry Hills through my networks. By that time my health started to take its toll. I couldn鈥檛 work physically as much. And then I virtually became homeless. I鈥檇 get a day鈥檚 work at Richmond greyhound track, and lived in the bush, in the lower Blue Mountains near Blaxland.

By then the car I had broke down. I sold it for enough cash to get things like sleeping bags, a tent, a good backpack. I virtually had my home on my back. I did that for nine months; I still had my monthly bank loan repayments to maintain. It started to get hard.

There was a lot of insecurity and safety worries, sleeping in bushy areas near Lapstone. A few other homeless people were staying there, we鈥檇 look after each other鈥檚 properties and it sort of became permanent. We were getting water from the train station. The bloke there was pretty supportive, there was an old shower on the side, and he鈥檇 let us take water and wash, and gave us warnings about the locals.

Mind you, we had a million dollar view over Sydney.

Anyway, I went there one day, and everything was burnt. I did a night鈥檚 work at Richmond and when I got back it was all burning. Some locals had started it and it turned into a bushfire. After it was put out I had only the possessions on my back. There was shock, yeah. I鈥檇 had little cooking instruments, we would share things, take it in turns to use things and carry water. We just got too comfortable.

One of the homeless people knew the homeless networks 鈥� he suggested I could get help. I met Wentworth housing at an Aboriginal men鈥檚 place in Mount Druitt. A Crisis Worker named Cal. He introduced me to an Aboriginal worker taking applications for crisis accommodation. They gave me all the help they could 鈥� food, all the different places I could go. Everything but accommodation.

I had to go back to living around different parts of the national parks in Glenbrook. There were a couple of other families there. The locals would be walking their dogs or on the way to the train station, they would say hi, see if we needed anything.

I then found out I had type 2 diabetes – I thought it was the lifestyle making me feel so run down all the time.

I did have a breakdown. One winter鈥檚 coldish night, I got in a nice safe spot where you could sleep and not be annoyed, down on the river. That was the first time suicidal thoughts came into my head.

Picking yourself up from that 鈥� you don鈥檛 want anyone in that situation. It takes away your humanity. You become the victim of yourself.

Then Cal contacted me to say there might be a place. And when I was offered that place, I was over the moon. I was even interviewed by the local papers.

I never thought I would become homeless. To be sowing the seeds again in your mid 50s, even when you鈥檝e got all these skills, facing these unforeseen things I had no control over, it was mentally testing. It鈥檚 a world I don鈥檛 want to imagine anyone being in. Later on, I did some work with Wentworth; the CEO at the time came up with ideas to engage with Aboriginal community, tenants and local youth.

Wentworth funded the program and I designed and developed it, with staff putting some practicalities to it. It was aimed at mid-Mountains youth, and it worked really well. These were kids in serious trouble, nothing to do but drugs, facing long gaol terms. On one camp, a kid chopped his axe into a tree, and I said See that? It鈥檚 marked. That鈥檚 a story you just gave to it. That鈥檚 how the cops see you.

Wentworth put some money up for art supplies and materials and that became an outlet for them. We made traditional musical instruments, music sticks and clap sticks and a friend who was a didgeridoo maker donated us a few. This brought interest and meaning into their lives.

That鈥檚 what I want to do now. I am writing my stories and giving this story to you because it鈥檚 all about the information that is shared. And culturally, it鈥檚 our custom 鈥� to share knowledge to the next generation. It helps them with issues and on their journeys 鈥� even with Reconciliation. To keep within their mindset the wisdom, through to maturity; to keep their identity and family ties strong and not get stuck in the bottom places. My main message is: Prevention before crisis situation.

I went on to pursue more cultural facilitation work with Health NSW and other places. Link Wentworth nominated me for a ZEST Award, which I won one year. I have been doing my own thing, my health has declined, and I have had spinal operations that affected my neck, lower back, which slows me down.

I have been impressed with Link Wentworth, especially when you look back and see the difference from then to now. The 鈥榳raparound services鈥� helps us older tenants, whether it鈥檚 education programs or anything in general that helps us cope with our everyday life struggles.

I joined the Tenants鈥� Advisory Group, because it鈥檚 all about being engaged and putting knowledge and wisdom in, for a better future. Working in community services takes a lot of dedication, passion and commitment to our society. I honour the staff who continue to be a strong voice, advocating for our needs and hopes for future aspirations.

Galama.