Changing Perspectives... on First Nations Culture

If there was ever an event that embodied ‘changing perspectives’, it’s got to be Garma.I slept in a tent for the first time ever – and liked it. But jokes aside, I can safely say I am forever changed by my experience at the 25th annual Garma Festival, held in remote northeast Arnhem Land in early August.

Garma is a Yolŋu word meaning “two-way learning process”, and each year this event brings together community and political and corporate leaders from across Australia for four days of learning, ceremony and critical conversation. I feel incredibly lucky to have had the opportunity to supercharge my allyship by spending six days fully immersed in an ancient culture that most Australians know very little about.

I was there as a guest of SBS and NITV, which was like having a backstage pass. We saw on-the-ground reporting and hours of live TV being produced. But most importantly, three Elders joined us: Aunty Rhoda Roberts, Uncle Richard Frankland and Uncle Mark Ella.

They brought lived experience and invaluable perspective to everything we did. Listening to their yarns each night around the campfire was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. We could ask anything – not matter how dumb or weird it felt – and dive into some of the biggest topics: treaty, the Yes campaign, Aboriginal deaths in custody, First Nations contributions to the arts, and the sporting magic that shapes our country. We could have talked all night.

What struck me about our Elders and the NITV talent and team – and every First Nations person I had a good chat to – was how many hats they wear. Everyone has a day job (a big day job), but it doesn’t stop there. They are spokespeople, mentors, advocates, community leaders, fundraisers, teachers, panelists, hosts, provocateurs, interviewers, interviewees, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, cultural guides, artists, sports people, and so much more.

Being among a small group of guests hosted by SBS and NITV, our goal was to learn and understand more about First Nations cultures and history, and the role and value of First Nations media. We threw ourselves into every cultural experience we could – from the profoundly moving, like witnessing the women’s wailing ‘Milkari’ or crying-for-Country circle at dawn as the sun rose over the escarpment, and discussing ways to support First Nations mothers giving birth on Country, through to the unforgettable energy of Yothu Yindi performing Treaty to a crowd that spanned generations, from toddlers to elders.

We learned about ancient bush medicine, women’s business (weaving) and men’s business (spear making). We watched the nightly Bungul – or traditional dance on the ancient ceremonial grounds of Gulkula – seeing many local clans dance and being invited up to join in. We listened to First Nations leaders talk about the issues affecting communities, including self-determination and empowerment.

Perhaps the most profound penny drop I had was the concept of ‘hand ups’ not hand outs. In principle, I understood this concept and definitely support it… teach a man to fish and all that. But seeing this principle in action across the trip really rammed home the difference in what a ‘hand up’ means.

Hand ups help First Nations people start businesses, stay living on their land, even when it is sometimes remote. Hand ups help facilitate roads, plumbing, clean water, laundries to wash clothes and vocations that mean whole families with many generations can stay on their land and thrive.

Seeing Timmy Djawa Burarrwanja and his family living and working at a spectacular and remote piece of coastline called Bawaka was eye opening. Three generations of his family are running an eco-tourist resort that would rival any boutique accommodation you’d find. Lux cabins sit on almost untouched beaches (with a resident 4-metre croc – friendly of course), complete with air conditioning, a communal dining room, and an Indigenous executive chef with international experience.

The family runs everything – bookings,  finances,  cleaning – and deliver the kind of hospitality we’d never experienced before. They are supported by not-for-profits like the Nova Peris Foundation, which provides crucial funding as well as guidance on running and growing the business, advocacy for utilities and infrastructure, and connections into the business and donor community.

I came away from my experience fired up. There is so much we can do, and so much we need to talk about.

The lowest hanging fruit in my job is to help clients understand the importance of investing in NITV and other First Nations media, and busting the myth of “I already target mass audiences, so Indigenous people are captured in my buy”. It’s so much more than that.

Sure, First Nations people watch MAFS and the news and NRL. But when brands show up in First Nations media – where authentic stories are told by mob, for mob – it’s on another level. This is media created to give First Nations voices a dedicated platform, on their own terms. Supporting its funding isn’t marketing, it’s nation building. It’s a hand up, and it’s a no-brainer.