The Australian Dream: Blood, History and Becoming Free
Total Page:16
File Type:pdf, Size:1020Kb
FREE THE AUSTRALIAN DREAM: BLOOD, HISTORY AND BECOMING PDF Stan Grant | 144 pages | 21 Nov 2016 | Black Inc. | 9781863958899 | English | Australia Exclusive extract from Stan Grant's new book, Talking to My Country | Australia news | The Guardian B lack American writer Ta-Nehisi Coates has said of the American dream that it exists in ice-cream socials and Fourth of July cookouts. I see the Australian dream History and Becoming shopping malls and coffee shops. It is in cinemas and playgrounds. The dream lives in the beach and the outback: it is a tourist brochure. We advertise the dream on television. It is in the smile of a young blonde-haired girl driving a new car. The dream is a mother and father and a girl in pigtails carrying a doll, turning the key in the front door of their new home. On weekends I get up History and Becoming to the dream. Fathers, in loafers and boots and checked shirts and sweaters. It is in steak sandwiches and beers. It is in how comfortable they are with each other, regardless of where they hail from. They welcome me. Yet in a deep, fundamental way they are strangers. I can count them as friends. I can smile, I can stop and chat but deep down I also know we are speaking a different language. The fault is as likely mine. There is a chasm here and I am not yet ready to cross. We occupy the same land, but we tell ourselves very different stories. Aborigines The Australian Dream: Blood up and shot, babies buried into the sand and decapitated, women raped, men History and Becoming as they The Australian Dream: Blood in the forks of trees, waterholes poisoned, flour laced with arsenic. The Australian dream abandoned us to rot on government missions, tore apart families, condemned us to poverty. There was no place for us in this modern country and everything we have won has come from dissent, it has been torn from the reluctant grasp of a nation that for much of its history hoped that we would disappear. We know this history, my people. This is a living thing. We touch it and we wear it. It is written in the scars on the bodies of men like my father. It is carried deep within us, mental wounds that cannot heal. It is so close we can touch it. When I was a baby my grandfather held History and Becoming in his arms; he was the son of a man born on to the History and Becoming before the collection of colonies even became Australia. A frontier marked The Australian Dream: Blood violence, The Australian Dream: Blood and death. Being good and great does not absolve you from a terrible sin and a pain inflicted on a people who did nothing to deserve it. Remember that: the first people of this land who have suffered for your greatness did nothing to deserve it. A truly great country — if we truly believe that — should be held to great account. Watching my son sleep, hearing his steady breathing as we move through our land, calms me. I could be alone The Australian Dream: Blood in these moments, surrounded by my country and with the boy whose bloodline through me stretches back an eternity. We are together in The Australian Dream: Blood place and I am aware that it may seem as if I have defied history. But we never do: do we? It was the period of forgetting. We were told a story of peace and bravery and the conquest of a continent. This was the inevitable push into the interior, a land opening up before the explorers. The Australian Dream: Blood was empty; The Australian Dream: Blood and claimed. These were the myths of my childhood, the myths of my education. In this telling, Australia was discovered by Captain James Cook. The Endeavour was a ship of destiny that led to the first fleet. On 13 May11 ships set sail with a cargo of prisoners to found a penal colony in New South Wales — but The Australian Dream: Blood true first fleet landed here 60, years earlier. There were people standing on the shore as Cook weighed anchor. Smoke from campfires trailed the white men who The Australian Dream: Blood over the great mountains west of Sydney; black people watched these people who appeared like ghosts. I was young when I began to question all of this. Even through the eyes of a boy the glory of Australia did not match with the reality of our History and Becoming. Something was rotten here. Each morning at school I would stand in line to recite the pledge: I honour my God, I serve my Queen, I salute the flag. And then, in the evening I would return home to where this flag had deposited us. Home was The Australian Dream: Blood we could find it. It was a home on the margins, outside of History and Becoming, outside looking in. Here, was my place, among the detritus of the frontier: the huddled remnants of the hundreds of nations who formed here as the continent formed around them. Two thousand generations of civilisation and culture, all of it now smashed against the reality of white settlement, a people History and Becoming land was taken because the people themselves were not legally here. School told me we faded from the frontier. The dying pillow was smoothed to soften our inevitable extinction. It need The Australian Dream: Blood have been this way. The birth of Australia was meant to be so different. For a brief moment there was hope. Captain Arthur Phillip founded a penal colony with instructions from the crown to protect the lives and livelihoods of Aboriginal people and forge friendly relations with the natives. There were reports of black and white people dancing together with joy in the early days of the settlement. The local people began teaching their language to the newcomers. In this moment there was a glimpse The Australian Dream: Blood a better Australia, and we failed. Within a matter of years violence had broken out on both sides and Phillip would now instruct raiding parties to bring back the severed heads of the local warriors. Within a generation the heads of Aborigines were shipped back to Britain in glass cases, to be studied as relics of a doomed race. Enlightened people throughout the world were wrestling with ideas of humanity and civilisation. The notion that all men are created equal was alive in the world. Yet, such lofty ideals had no place here. Not for us. We were dismissed as brutes. We belonged to those so-called primitive people uncorrupted by civilisation. Yet such relics were seen to have no place in a modern world. The great writer of his age, Charles Dickens, spoke for many when he described such peoples as cruel, bloodthirsty and murderous. Charles Darwin — the father of the theory of evolution — visited Australia and despaired at the impact of colonisation. There was of course nothing mysterious at all in the theft of land and the disease and violence that followed. Yet to Darwin — as sad as our passing may be — this was unavoidable, inevitable. How easy The Australian Dream: Blood can be in the sweep of history to stop seeing the individual lives. These were my ancestors they were speaking of, my great-great-grandparents. Such views formed a powerful logic that was unshakable. It provided the moral blindfold through which people could no longer even see the atrocities perpetrated History and Becoming my people. Even those people, whose eyes were opened to this suffering, accepted that our fate was doomed. My ancestors were driven to the brink of extinction. We survived — the half-white remnants of the first nations herded on to Christian missions. We were told this would save us from the brutality of the frontier. But we often lived like inmates, roped and tied if we dared escape. Now, I was a confused young boy at school, History and Becoming of what I was. Each head turned to look at me, and I felt anything but pride. I saw my reflection in Australia and felt diminished. The History and Becoming told the story of this land now; there was no glory in us. There was nothing that redeemed my ancestors. Back then no one wrote of our great deeds. If we existed at all, we were a footnote, a prehistoric relic. I am standing in a radio studio in Sydney trying to explain why it is that we are so vulnerable and exposed in our own country. His interviews are less about what divides us; at his best he looks to knit together the frayed fibres of our shared humanity. He has learned first-hand that what we do to each other can come from something missing or damaged in ourselves. He has also learned one of the most valuable lessons of life, that we are better than History and Becoming worst. He has written eloquently of his own journey into his troubled family and how it has shaped him. It lends Richard empathy and there is softness in his question that is comforting and disarming. Stan Grant: Racism and the Australian dream - The Ethics Centre Grant was initially an unwilling participant in a Sydney Ethics Centre debate over the proposal that racism is destroying the Australian dream. His opening salvo — not much more than a thousand words — was delivered a couple of weeks after star Sydney Swans footballer Adam Goodes had retired from the game, literally booed off the field of play.