Sunday, January 26, 2014

Australia Day 1988

I saw Robbie Thorpe on an add for an ABC program '88' showing on Thursday night, saying Australia day 1988 was his proudest moment as an Aboriginal person (hope I quoted you right Robbie). It was a different emotion for me. Also one of the highlights of my life. It is hard to describe what I felt. I remember being at La Peruse where everybody gathered as they came in from all over the country. The largest group of Blackfellas any of us had ever seen in one place. Although Aboriginal people had huge gatherings pre-colonisation not until the urgent need to come together to protest, had they come from every corner of the continent. The parallel would be a moment in history when people from all over Europe  came to one place united with one message. Hard to image that ever happening.
There were days of discussion and consultation about how the protest would go on the 26th. Aboriginal leaders from across the country all spoke about their concerns. The big concern was wether to take the children on the march as they fully expected to encounter resistance from whitefellas, even full on violence directed at them for protesting on the day that white people celebrated. I knew of people coming from Melbourne to protest with them however I couldn't make myself heard as it wasn't my platform and Les and other family just thought I was naive. The decision was made to hold two marches. One early in the morning without the children that would go to Lady McQuarie's chair near where the royal yacht was tethered and one later that would go to Hyde Park. Les and I spent the night before driving around Sydney looking for Circus Oz as we knew they had a human cannon and Les was intent on being shot out of the human cannon at the royal yaght. We never managed to locate them much to my relief. (before mobiles and GPS) Weary but excited anyway, we took our huge banner on the early morning march which was halted on several occasions by police who repeatedly held a line by linking arms across the roads we were walking down. We would sit in the road until they unlinked their arms and we were able to file through their barrier single file. This was interesting with the banner which was about 20ft long. Sandra Onus and I had finished painting it at La Peruse the day before and it was shiny and beautiful with the image of Bunjil in the centre of the yellow sun. We eventually came to a spot near the royal yacht and spread out. There were Aussie people there to watch the tall ships and most moved aside but some were angry and rude. Les nearly made it out to the yacht in a canoe but was turned back by the water police.
The second march was more sedate but very moving. We left from Redfern, led by the men from up north who were all painted up and playing the dige. It wound through the streets of Sydney like a long slow snake, full of colour and chanting. There were banners of all kinds. One huge banner that floated with the help of balloons. Our stretched across the whole street. When we came to the tunnel under the railway line the sound of the didgeridoo's echoed back along the march as a kind of vibration of the spirit of the demonstration which was somber, intentional but peaceful. When I came out the other side of the tunnel I was met with the most surprising sight. The march had moved through a park to the right and it was filled with non-Aboriginal people of all persuasion with banners and crudely written signs of support. Everyone around me was shocked and as the march moved through these people Aboriginal people around me were open mouthed in surprise. I was joyous and felt vindicated in my naivety. The march became bigger and we ended at Hyde Park with speeches that were about what I saw as the possibility of real reconciliation. That vision was real but sadly has yet to be fulfilled 25 years later.




1 comment:

  1. I watched 88. I was looking out for you, Megan in the footage from La Perouse and the march, and for Les' canoe. I thought about where I was on that day - at home, making relish with the TV on. The tall ships on the harbour looked pretty but it was the coverage of the march that moved me - deeply - and made me feel ashamed to be a (new) Australian.

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