Translate

Wednesday, October 4, 2023

A Voice or 300 Treaties?

 


My first visit to Walgett in 1988  had me questioning if I had stepped into another country.

I worked in corrections as a probation officer and spent 16 years  in western and  northern NSW. Nothing had prepared me for my time at Coonamble where the role covered the area to the Queensland border. Walgett, Gulargambone  and Goodooga could all be classified as Aboriginal towns, plus Lightning Ridge which also had an indigenous population.

My first visit to Walgett in 1988  had me questioning if I had stepped into another country. I visited Namoi Mission where indigenous Australians lived in iron shanties, dirt floors and with no facilities such as running water, sewerage and I cannot remember if there was electricity. 

My two years in Coonamble were an education where I learned much about the sad history of Australia, its violence, dispossession and isolation of its first peoples. I dealt with the over representation of Aboriginal people in the criminal justice system which in the late 1980s had about 10% of the NSW prison population identified as Aboriginal. That figure is much higher now in actual and percentage terms.

Moving to Casino and Lismore I worked with the local Aboriginal communities including the Land Council, Aboriginal Health Service and other government agencies. Building on the learnings from my time in the west I assisted in establishing programs to involve Aboriginal communities in some criminal justice programs.

I am writing this from Sault Ste Marie (Falls of St Mary) in Michigan USA after seven weeks driving through the USA and Canada. I have lost count of the number of road signs telling us we are entering or leaving an Indian Reservation.  I have visited museums and other places of interest. I have gleaned some of the history of how Native Americans were forced onto reservations and lost their traditional lands, not dissimilar to our history in Australia. I have understood that treaties were entered into with tribes and not honoured as the westward sprawl saw Europeans dislocate them in many cases forcibly to reservations.

What has struck me is that Native Americans own land and lots of it. We drove through California, Nevada, Utah, Arizona and other states where Indian reservations were identified by signs telling drivers they were entering an Indian reservation, or leaving it. Huge tracts of land, some with Native American businesses, identifiable communities both large and small, an Air Force base on one and plenty of ranches, presumably owned by non indigenous peoples were regular occurrences. And there were casinos and lots of them on Indian Reservations. The USA recognises Indian tribes as sovereign domestic nations, allowing them to govern themselves. There are about 374 treaties between Indian tribes and the US government, some of which are on display at the Smithsonian Institute.

In some places I saw references to native police and in fact here in Sault there is a native police force which features in a promotional video. The Police of the Sault Tribe of Chippewa Indians enforce laws on behalf of the Indian communities around the area.

I have seen how American history acknowledges the past but is proud of the present as it promotes positive aspects of Indian culture. The name Sault Ste Marie (pronounced Soo Saint Marie) means Falls of St Mary. The local tribe were known as the Sault tribe or Falls tribe because of the waterfalls at the Mary River. The cities in Canada and USA that share that name across the river recognise the first inhabitants in the name of their cities. 

Museum after museum and other local attractions have information about pre-European history and about the contact that occurred and how it impacted the natives. The Battle of Little Bighorn was renamed from  Custer’s Last Stand at the request of the local tribes which acknowledges the slaughter of the US Army but also the retaliation that saw the tribes lose their land and flee to Canada. Rather than being a shrine to slaughtered US Army Officers, it acknowledges the battle, the victory by many Indian tribes and is a shrine to the dead both Indian and American. This was negotiated in my lifetime and the park acknowledges openly the poor treatment of the Indians and their defence against a much better armed but outnumbered military. There are memorial stones to the fallen Indians as well as Custer’s me. At Mt Rushmore one of those tribes was featured on centre stage performing the Hoop Dance which was truly spectacular and the dancer shared her story with us. 

So what has this to do with the Voice Referendum coming up?  I have had long days driving so have listened to a lot of radio from Australia and do try to read the local news as well.

Jacinta Nampijinpa Price and Warren Mundine have highlighted the weaknesses of the Yes case. It is up to the proponents of the constitution to convince of the need for change. Opponents highlight the weaknesses being proposed. That is debating 101.

While Price and Mundine don’t always sing from the same song sheet, this has highlighted what I learned in my Aboriginal Legal Studies program at university from 1993 to 1995. 

There are over three hundred indigenous tribes in Australia and Mundine highlights that each group is autonomous and you only speak for your own people. Not all Aboriginal people are the same. There are hundreds of languages, different customs and practices and as this referendum is highlighting, different political views. This is the point Mundine was making in his speech two days ago where he highlighted that there would be a central overlord seeking to represent all indigenous Australians. 

He has also been criticised for advocating for treaties. However he is proposing something that appears non controversial in Canada and the USA. 

The USA has hundreds of treaties with Native Americans. It still functions as a bastion of democracy. It is not an issue here. It is just part of history, You see it everywhere in museums, road signs and on Indian land. Treaties go back to the lawless Wild West and recognise that the Indians had rights. Negotiating from weakness, they were at least able to claw back some of the losses and achieve recognition, even if not always honoured.

The failure of the Yes case to outline what a Voice will mean is a failure of leadership. If the USA can sign 374 treaties and allow sovereign domestic rule why can we not in Australia do this? 

Well we have started. In NSW every Local Aboriginal Land Council was established under legislation and while not called a treaty it has treaty like aspects. Initial funds came from a percentage of land tax being contributed by the NSW government to assist Local Aboriginal Land Councils. It stopped after fifteen years but provides a model for any treaty negotiations. 

In one town we stayed in we actually stayed on land that was Indian land but it did not mean ownership stopped motels and other businesses being established. 

Treaties do not require a change to the constitution but do require a change of heart by us, the dominant population. Treaties of course will cost money but we are not a poor country. It might mean mining royalties on land owned by Forrest, BHP, Rio etc that goes into a treaty fund. Governments are always good at revenue raising and not a great deal of creativity is required to consider how to raise funds for treaties at a national level.  

However if this government was serious about giving a Voice to indigenous Australians, it would have listened to those communities that advocated to retain the welfare card before cancelling it which has seen an uptick in alcohol and domestic violence since abolition. 

The failure of support for the voice is our lack of understanding as a nation about our history.

America does history really well. I have learned heaps on this road trip but where does someone learn about Aboriginal history? Where are the monuments to the Myall Creek massacre? 

Why is it that we in Australia of all the former British colonies in the western world are outliers. New Zealand has the Treaty of Waitangi, Canada seems to have treaties as do the Americans. 

So from me it’s a No to the voice but a yes to treaties. And I know it will take generations to hammer out three hundred or so treaties, if indeed Aboriginal Australia wants to go down that path.

Tuesday, July 18, 2023

Episode Two in Mara is Ending (2) – Funerals

 


This post is complex and I am having trouble networking the complex web of family relationships but hopefully I am coherent enough to make it sound sensible.

A Funeral Highlights the Complexity of Relationships in Tanzania

Bishop’s wife is like so many here is the daughter of a polygamist and the only child of her mother who was the last wife. Her own mother lives in Musoma and when in town Janet visits regularly (Janet is a teacher over 1,000 kms away) and like so many African families she and Bishop are separated by employment). She was home in June for the month of school holidays when a grandson of one of her mother’s died – a young man aged in his early thirties. This post is complex and I am having trouble networking the complex web of family relationships but hopefully I am coherent enough to make it sound sensible.

Background

Janet comes from the village of Mugango which according to Google maps is 24kms and 30 minutes from Musoma. I have visited there twice previously. The grandmother of this boy was the first wife of Janet’s father but she has dementia and in her eighties was in no way able to manage funeral arrangments apart from the fact she lived hundreds of kilomteres away. The deceased man’s biological mother had predeceased him.

So it fell on Janet, home for a month of school holidays, to take charge and manage the funeral arrangments.This essentially meant moving to her mother’s house (who should as the senior family member have done the arranging but due to age passed it on to Janet). Janet was gone for a week doing whatever, which included receiving visitors at her mother’s home which I visited one night to drop her back and found a large number of visitors sitting outside in a pre-funeral kind of wake?

So the funeral on the Thursday after Janet moved to her mother’s the previous Friday took me for a third time to Mugango. Rural village with dramatic views of Lake Victoria from the house where the funeral service was held. This was Janet’s childhood home. There are two buldings and she grew up in the front building but now her mother lives in the rear building.

It is hard to say but my guess is that 200 plus people were sitting around picnic style on the ground spread out from the area off the front house which had a tarpaulin covering about 60-80 chairs and where the formal part of the service was to be held. The officiating clergy were the local Mennonite and Anglican pastors. Mugango was principally a Mennonite village in the missionary days, but other churches are now there but the Mennonites are the largest church.

The coffin was home made and covered in decorative cloth, laid in what we would describe as the carport or breezeway (no cars at this or most houses). People sat around on the ground, some on mattresses others on grass while the seats in the formal part were fully occupied including a choir.

On arrival I was introduced by Janet to her brothers – all Catholics. The questions started how could this be? Eventually it was explained that Janet’s father was Catholic so the children of the earlier marriages were Catholic. The grandmother with dementia was Mennonite and maintained her church membership after marriage but the children were raised Catholic. The young man who died was apparently an Adventist, but no explanation was given to me about how this came to be. The man had laft the area as a talented soccer player and spent many years in Dodoma the capital before an accident left him disabled and paraplegic.


Come making funeral arrangments, the Adventists would not officiate as there was no record of his baptism or church membership. The Catholics were approached who also used that reason to refuse to participate. In the end the Mennonite and Anglican pastor said they would share the role at the house of taking the church service but would not actually bury the young man at the graveside committal. Janet grew up in that community as a Mennonite and is married to an Anglican bishop so no doubt some connections helped her find clergy willing to help. Also the demented grandmother as noted was a Mennonite.

This actually highlights how serious church membership is taken and the fact that pastors won’t participate in funerals for people not actual members of their flock. It sounds shocking but there is a logic to it. The service at the house was done on the basis that a funeral service is for the living. But come to the burial and the poor guy was laid to rest with no prayers said. I imagine those present would have understood the seriousness of church membership. My cousin in Europe who rarely goes to church, willingly pays his church taxes on the basis that he will have a Christian funeral despite rarely gracing the church with his presence.

The choirs started singing, the preachers started praying and preaching and I was led observing from a shady tree by the hand, by a determined mama to a room where lunch was served. This room actually looked out the window to the pastors so as I ate lunch, a funeral service proceeded lass than three metres from the fish I was munching on. All a bit surreal.

Once the official bit was done (and we had finished lunch) it was off to the graveside. Now this was at least a one kilomtre walk through open fields planted with maize, cassava and other grain and overlooking a scenic view to the north. The cemetery was the Mennonite cemetery hidden by thickets of bush. A more peaceful resting place would be difficult to imagine. A wander through the cemetery revealed graves over sixty years old and headstones which testified to the lives of many.

The burial was awkward. Bishop George was left alone as both pastors remained at a distance. So Bishop took charge in the absence of anyone else directing the traffic and gave directions. The boys carrying the coffin were instructed to place it in the grave. No ropes or hydraulics. It is a couple in the hole and the coffin passed down as they receive it and lower it to the ground. Bishop suggested they sing a few songs. He then asked for a shovel and loaded a pile of dirt and invited the family of three kids to drop a handful of dirt into their father’s coffin. This followed with the ex-wife and many others doing likewise and before long the coffin top was covered just from handfulls of dirt.

Meanwhile, I remember after my first visit to Mugango my friend from Lancaster Pennsylvania who commeted to me a year ago that his father was buried at Mugango, so that caused me to seek out the Mennonite pastor and ask him about my friend’s father. He and two others took me about 500m to the grave which now sits maybe 70m from a house and under a large tree that was probably planted around the time of the funeral in 1945. I took photos to share with my friend who I will see in Lancaster in late July when I am there (we have a number of friends and are there for two plus weeks – Lancaster is home to the Amish and Mennonites).

From that grave we proceeded back to the house where all the vehicles were and past the Mennonite Church, the house where my friend would have spent his early years before his father died and in amazingly good condition for a ninety year old building.

On the way back to Musoma on an all dirt road, not in great condition I kept wondering how did they get here ninety odd years ago. It would have been scrub country, no roads and maybe a track but it highlighted the commitment of missionaries and their zeal to travel to remote and inhospitable places to bring hope through the gospel. Amazingly an American who died eighty years ago is still honoured and remembered by this community.

Sunday, July 16, 2023

Embracing the Joyful Noise: Overcoming Discrimination as a Tone-Deaf Singer

 


Hey there, fellow music enthusiasts! Today, I want to share an inspiring story about a personal journey of acceptance, perseverance, and the power of finding your voice amidst adversity. I am a tone-deaf individual who has faced discrimination in Australia for my inability to hold a tune while singing in church. However, in 2023, during my volunteer work in Tanzania, I discovered a community that embraced me and my unique voice.

Hey there, fellow music enthusiasts! Today, I want to share an inspiring story about a personal journey of acceptance, perseverance, and the power of finding your voice amidst adversity. I am a tone-deaf individual who has faced discrimination in Australia for my inability to hold a tune while singing in church. However, in 2023, during my volunteer work in Tanzania, I discovered a community that embraced me and my unique voice. My transformative experience is due to the Uamsho Gospel Choir at St John’s Anglican Church Musoma in Tanzania. This is the real deal as far as African Gospel music is concerned and the US African American Church choirs look pretty average compared to the enthusiasm that Africans bring to their music and dancing.

My passion for singing led me to try to participate in church choirs back in Australia. However, my tone-deafness became a constant source of discouragement. People urged me to sing quietly or not sing at all, making me feel as though my voice was unwelcome in the realm of music. This discrimination left me feeling disheartened, questioning my abilities.

A Serendipitous Encounter:

In 2023, I embarked on my second volunteer journey to Tanzania, a land known for its vibrant music and rich cultural heritage. Through fate’s gentle touch, I found myself joining the Uamsho Gospel Choir at St John’s Anglican Church in Musoma. This is one of about six choirs at this church. Even small village churches will have one or two choirs. It serves as an activity especially for young people – an alternative to Youth Groups. My first practice was on Saturday 1 July 2023 after a day facilitating a workshop and I was tired. But the vibrancy of the dancing and singing energised me. I was shocked to learn I would join next morning after one practice These guys can dance and have a natural rythm I lack. It is hard work as you will see.

As I nervously took my place among the talented singers, I was taken aback by the warmth and acceptance I received. Unlike my previous experiences, the choir members celebrated the joyful noise of their voices, irrespective of their tunefulness But they were excellent. My first time in the choir was on Sunday July 2 2023 and you can see me in the choir singing here.

Not only singing but dancing to support the experienced singers who sing while the rest of the choir does the choreography.

I quickly realized that the Tanzanian approach to music was rooted in the biblical notion of praising God with exuberance and authenticity. The Uamsho Gospel Choir understood that the essence of singing lies not in technical perfection but in the genuine expression of love, devotion, and worship. This revelation breathed new life into my musical journey, to embrace my unique voice wholeheartedly.

Psalm 98:4-6 – “Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music; make music to the LORD with the harp, with the harp and the sound of singing, with trumpets and the blast of the ram’s horn—shout for joy before the LORD, the King.” This passage reminds us that God values the joyful noise of our praise, emphasizing the importance of expressing our adoration without reservation. And here is an example of it from last year at a service I attended (WARNING if your idea of typical Anglican singing is choral music do not click)

Psalm 100:1-2 – “Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth. Worship the LORD with gladness; come before him with joyful songs.” These verses highlight the significance of approaching worship with gladness and joyful songs, emphasizing that our worship should be rooted in authentic expression rather than technical perfection.

1 Samuel 16:7b – “The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” This verse speaks to the essence of acceptance and reminds us that God sees beyond external factors, embracing our heartfelt offerings of praise.

My journey from facing discrimination as a tone-deaf singer in Australia to finding acceptance in the Uamsho Gospel Choir in Tanzania is a testament to the transformative power of embracing one’s uniqueness. Through the biblical texts that support the notion of a joyful noise, I have discovered that my voice, though different, had the power to uplift and connect with others in worship. My experience teaches us the importance of creating inclusive spaces in our communities and valuing the genuine expressions of love and devotion, regardless of their technical perfection.

Remember, dear readers, let us celebrate the diverse voices among us, for it is in the joyful noise that we find unity, acceptance, and a profound connection with the divine. Sing your heart out, embrace your uniqueness, and let your joyful noise resound.

Keep making a joyful noise!

Tanzanian Economic Development 2014-2024 (2)

WATER Water is life as they say and without it you cannot live. Surrounded as the area is by Lake Victoria, the largest lake in Africa and ...