Indigenous Knowledge Production Despite many scholars noting the interdisciplinary approach of Aboriginal knowledge production as a methodology within a broad range of subjects – including quantum mathematics, biodiversity, sociology and the humanities – the academic study of Indigenous knowledge and people is struggling to become interdisciplinary in its approach and move beyond its current label of ‘Indigenous Studies’. Indigenous Knowledge Production specifically demonstrates the use of autobiographical ethnicity as a methodological approach, where the writer draws on lived experience and ethnic background towards creative and aca- demic writing. Indeed, in this insightful volume, Marcus Woolombi Waters investigates the historical connection and continuity that have led to the pre- sent state of hostility witnessed in race relations around the world, seeking to further understanding of the motives and methods that have led to a rise in white supremacy associated with ultra-conservatism. Above all, Indigenous Knowledge Production aims to deconstruct the cul- tural lens applied within the West which denies the true reflection of Abori- ginal and Black consciousness, and leads to the open hostility witnessed across the world. This monograph will appeal to undergraduate and post- graduate students, as well as postdoctoral researchers, interested in fields such as Sociology of Knowledge, Anthropology, Cultural Studies, Ethnography and Methodology. Dr Marcus Woolombi Waters is a Lecturer in the School of Humanities, Languages and Social Science at Griffith University, Australia. Routledge Advances in Sociology For a full list of titles in this series, please visit www.routledge.com/series/ SE0511 Reflections on Knowledge, Learning and Social Movements History’s Schools Edited by Aziz Choudry and Salim Vally Social Generativity A relational paradigm for social change Edited by Mauro Magatti The Live Art of Sociology Cath Lambert Video Games as Culture Considering the Role and Importance of Video Games in Contemporary Society Daniel Muriel and Garry Crawford The Sociology of Central Asian Youth Choice, Constraint, Risk Mohd. Aslam Bhat Indigenous Knowledge Production Navigating Humanity within a Western World Dr Marcus Woolombi Waters Time and Temporality in Transitional and Post-Conflict Societies Edited by Natascha Mueller-Hirth and Sandra Rios Oyola Practicing Art/Science Experiments in an Emerging Field Edited by Philippe Sormani, Guelfo Carbone and Priska Gisler The Dark Side of Podemos? Carl Schmitt and Contemporary Progressive Populism Josh Booth and Patrick Baert Indigenous Knowledge Production Navigating Humanity within a Western World Dr Marcus Woolombi Waters First published 2018 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2018 Marcus Woolombi Waters The right of Marcus Woolombi Waters to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The Open Access version of this book, available at www.taylorfrancis.com, has been made available under a Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-No Derivatives 4.0 license. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book has been requested. ISBN: 9781138218383 (hbk) ISBN: 9781315437811 (ebk) Typeset in Times New Roman by Taylor & Francis Books Contents Biiba-ga guwaa-lda-ndaay (A note from the author …) vi Biiyaal (Preface …) viii 1 Yammaa gamilaroi winnunguldah (Introducing autobiographical ethnicity …)1 2 Gamil bida-wii (Before the beginning …)16 3 Ngamilma-li-ayla-y (Background to the study …)30 4 Guwiinbaa-gi ngamuulah biibabiiba (Moving towards the book …)48 5 Nguwa … ngay dhubaanma-li gay (Here … I’ll tell you a story …)68 6 Nhuubala winanga-y-baa (A new hypothetical space …)84 7 Burranba-li ngay guyungan-dhu ali-y (The fluidity of my identity …) 101 8 Wiringin-dhiiral (An Indigenous academy …) 116 9 Minya burrul burranba-li mubirr (What inspired the writing …) 134 Waaran (Conclusion …) 149 Waaran garaay (Final word …) 153 References 166 Index 185 Biiba-ga guwaa-lda-ndaay (A note from the author …) What does it mean to be Aboriginal in the 21st century? To be connected to the land beyond materialism and commodity, where instead your connection is within the kinship ties, and the very DNA you possess that comes from the land you walk on. Surely in connecting to the land our very humanity is then connected to our Aboriginality. As the oldest living culture practised today our Aboriginality is our divine authority and birthright to exercise autonomy, ownership and leadership as the original peoples of these lands in which we remain connected to today. To claim ownership in our wellbeing free of trauma as a people belonging to the lands of their ancestors over tens of thousands of years we share a noble birth in carrying the legacy of our languages, our ceremony and our way of life into the future. As a Kamilaroi Australian Aboriginal I live in one of the richest Western countries in the world, built on an industry of mining from the lands of my own Aboriginal people, many of whom remain living in third-world poverty and associated trauma. This is poverty and trauma I have seen and felt personally. Just over 12 months ago I took a one-year sabbatical to write this book. I left Australia for New Zealand to be picked up by my white sister, who is also my aunt, having been adopted by my white grandparents after being taken from my Aboriginal mother 48 years ago. My narrative is unique in that rather than writing about my being taken or returning to my Aboriginal family, a text many are familiar with due to publications already documenting Australia’s Stolen Generations1 including Follow the Rabbit-proof Fence (Pilkington, 2013) and My Place (Morgan & Reynolds, 1987), I am now returning to the white family that reared me. Hopefully in coming full circle within my own healing process. My first emotional trigger is in giving into the white privilege I walked away from as a teenager in being reunited with my Aboriginal family over 30 years earlier. My sister lives in a million-dollar house in Wellington, the nation’s capital. To my Aboriginal family, owning a million-dollar house is as far removed from reality as travelling to the moon. As Aboriginal people we just don’t own million-dollar houses, but for many white Westerners living in major cities around the world, including Wellington, Auckland, Sydney or Mel- bourne, this is neither extraordinary nor extreme … in fact, it is normal. You just can’t get standard four-bedroom housing in these inner cities for anything Biiba-ga guwaa-lda-ndaay (A note from the author …) vii less than A$700,000. It’s why you don’t see Blackfellas2 living in inner Sydney or Melbourne, as a form of socioeconomic cultural apartheid (Wright, 2002). I stay with my sister for two days as, together with my two boys, Ngiyaani (13 years old) and Marcus junior (12 years old), we get reacquainted. I purchase a car from a car-yard owned by a friend of her husband, well under market value; because of the relationship with family the car has been checked out and is running A1 mechanically. I pay cash, which is expected, and leave for Hastings, which is a four-hour drive away, with peace of mind and security knowing the car won’t break down or be in need of constant maintenance, even though I paid less than A$2,000. It is hard describing such purchases as white privilege, or even as a benefit to those who see such social and cultural capital as ‘matter-of-fact’ or as personal agency they believe acquired from hard work, but I have lived with poverty associated with my Aboriginality and these are not securities associated to everyone – where even a safe, reli- able car appears out of reach. I arrive in Hastings and take up residence in a house owned again by a friend of the family, and together with my two boys and my white family we start a process of what I hope will be healing. It’s now 12 months later and I am calling my wife in Australia to arrange coming home; the book is almost finished and I feel accepted and loved by my white family. In discussing coming home my wife explains that her brother, an institutionalised criminal and drug addict, is coming to live with us because he has nowhere else to stay. This is after her cousin, a single mother who has three children in her care and another child not in her care, had to leave the house because of domestic violence and issues associated with the drug known as ‘ice’. Welcome to the reality of being Aboriginal and living in Australia in the 21st century. I understand that such circumstances are not the same for every Aboriginal family, just as million-dollar houses in capital cities and being friendly with business owners who own car-yards and multiple rental properties are not every white person’s experience. But neither my white nor my Aboriginal family are exceptional or extraordinary; in rea- lity both are very average and these experiences are common boundary indi- cators for white and Aboriginal families alike. Obviously, as with anything, there are exceptions, but as stated above, both families are relatively normal and these are my own personal lived experiences which have shaped and nurtured the rest of the book.