Motions

NAIDOC Week

The Hon. K.J. MAHER (Leader of the Opposition) (16:19): I move:

That this council—

1. Acknowledges the SA NAIDOC Week committee;

2. Acknowledges the theme of NAIDOC Week 2018 'Because of Her, We Can!'; and

3. Pays tribute to the many South Australian Aboriginal women who have contributed so much to our state.

NAIDOC Week provides Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people the opportunity to be involved in many events and activities that celebrate the oldest living culture on the planet. The South Australian NAIDOC Week committee has again exceeded the already very high standard set in previously years. I would like to pay tribute to those committee members for their commitment to ensuring Adelaide celebrates in style, and especially to the NAIDOC SA chair, Charlene Lamont.

NAIDOC Week is celebrated proudly all over South Australia; however, in recent years I have been consigned only to Adelaide activities due to it coinciding with the parliamentary sitting week. This year, I was able to get out to regional areas of the state and experience and celebrate more of NAIDOC Week. I was able to attend the NAIDOC Awards and met with some outstanding Aboriginal people doing great community work in Whyalla.

In Port Augusta there was a jam-packed NAIDOC Week, with a massive 18 events. I arrived in the nick of time to partake in the first NAIDOC Week Colour Run. I can assure you, Mr President, I did not absolutely embarrass myself in my finishing time over the 2.5 kilometres, but I did learn a very important Colour Run lesson: you ought to close your mouth when running through a colour station, especially given the onslaught of coloured powder thrown by local community constable, Bradley Amos. It is best not to ingest the stuff.

I wish to give great thanks to Dre Ngatokorua, for organising such a fun and positive event, and his mum Lavene, who I must congratulate for being the well-deserved 2018 Port Augusta NAIDOC Lifetime Achievement Award winner. Speaking of Lavene's contribution—an Aboriginal woman who gives so much to her community—it brings us to the theme of this year's NAIDOC Week: 'Because of her we can'. The week was an amazing opportunity to pay tribute to all the Aboriginal women who have played, and continue to play, crucial roles in the lives of us all.

The aim of promoting this theme has been to shine a light on the role that so many strong Aboriginal women play. Their worker does not often receive the credit it deserves. Aboriginal women are so often the backbone of our communities. They have been critical in the survival and resilience of Aboriginal people. They are our most fierce protectors, most loving aunties, and our most supportive sisters, educators and nurturers. They often bear both the burden and joy of community that many others do not experience.

There are so many incredible, inspirational Aboriginal women—unsung heroes in South Australia, just getting on with it. I want to take this opportunity to pay tribute to all Aboriginal women who contribute so much to their families, to their communities and to South Australia. Today I want to single out just a few of them.

I was beyond proud that when I was minister for Aboriginal affairs and reconciliation, the Aboriginal affairs and reconciliation division of the state government was run by two deadly black boss ladies. Nerida Saunders and Kirstie Parker might not actually be from South Australia, but they have spent enough time here, advocating for Aboriginal South Australians, that we have no choice but to let them be honorary Nungas.

I have always received quality advice, the necessary direction and often redirection and support from Nerida and Kirsty. I thank them for the help and guidance that they have given me, and which they continue to give and deliver to the South Australian government and the wider Aboriginal community in this state.

It would be impossible to speak about strong, successful Aboriginal women if I did not mention Dr Lowitja O'Donoghue, so I will do it early on because it is appropriate to mention Lowitja early on. Quite frankly, I am scared of her and I thought I had better do it early on. Aunty Lowitja needs no introduction. Her achievements are lengthy and she broke the glass ceiling becoming the first Aboriginal person to do a bunch of things: the first Aboriginal training nurse at the Royal Adelaide Hospital, the first Aboriginal woman to be awarded the Order of Australia and the first Aboriginal person to address the United Nations General Assembly.

It is no surprise that Lowitja was the person the federal government turned to when they appointed the very first chairperson of ATSIC. Her entire life has been dedicated to the advancement of Aboriginal people and I pay great tribute to her for that. I well remember, in the first few weeks as minister for Aboriginal affairs, attending a dinner after the Lowitja O'Donoghue Oration. There were around five of us at this dinner and it included Lowitja O'Donoghue and Marcia Langton. I have never been more petrified and scared for a couple of hours than I was that night. They are two of the fiercest people I know; it just so happens that they are both Aboriginal women. They are two of the strongest advocates for Aboriginal people in Australia.

Another woman involved in many firsts was Dr Alice Rigney, the first ever Aboriginal school principal and a trailblazer in the field of education, notable for her dedication to the revival of the Kaurna language. She went to great lengths to piece back what was an almost lost language. Aunty Alice went to Germany to see letters in the Kaurna language that had been written by Kaurna children in the early days of European colonisation. They were sent to Germany by missionaries who taught Kaurna children in the 1940s at an Aboriginal school on the banks of the River Torrens.

The best guess is that Dr Alice Rigney taught over 5,000 Aboriginal kids in South Australia, and her influence in shaping many of the next generation will be her ongoing legacy. As Aunty Alice Rigney used to say, 'The teaching of children is our single greatest story of hope for a reconciled Australia.' Again, I remember from my early days as minister for Aboriginal affairs that one of the things I had to do was attend, with Dr Alice Rigney, the Sisters of Saint Joey's reconciliation group in the eastern suburbs.

That brings me to Shirley Peisley, Aunty Shirley. I can only speak for the last 20 years or so but I have it on good authority that she is almost as active today—and possibly more passionate today—than she was when she joined FCAATSI in the early 60s. Her life has been well and truly dedicated to improving the rights of Aboriginal people and advocating for reconciliation in both her professional and personal life.

Last year was the 50^th anniversary of the 1967 referendum, and it came with many celebratory and commemorative events across the country. I remember being at one such event in Melbourne hosted by the Prime Minister, who spent much of his speech talking about the work that Aunty Shirley did in the lead-up to the 1967 referendum—a truly inspirational South Australian whose reach and influence stretched all across Australia more than 50 years ago and still does today.

Aunty Ellen Trevorrow has nurtured so many young people, both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people, in the decades she has run Camp Coorong. Her whole life has been incredibly generous, sharing her culture and her Miwi wisdom. She has been a great source of strength for my family and also for many Ngarrindjeri over so many years.

Aunty Eunice Aston has been a great source of strength and inspiration to many, not just around Ngarrindjeri country but to me personally, and particularly to her nearly three dozen grandchildren. While Aunty Eunice can rattle off the names of her 30 plus grandchildren, she tells me she cannot remember all their birthdays every time. Aunty Eunice has dedicated her life to working in the field of Aboriginal health and has, in addition, been a trailblazer in her own right, becoming the very first female chairperson of the Ngarrindjeri Regional Authority.

An exceptionally strong and fierce Aboriginal leader was Kunmanara Paddy, or the Lady from Kalca in the APY lands. She also became the first female chairperson of a board, the APY Executive Board. Sadly she was only chairperson for a little over 12 months before she passed away in May 2016. She was a strong advocate for Anangu women and children, encouraging everyone to go to school. Her dignified and generous nature was a delight to all who knew her, but she was an exceptionally firm leader.

I saw the strength of the old lady from Kalca's leadership in 2016 at the opening of the Pipalyatjara/Kalca TAFE building. One of the public servants present at that opening made an unfortunate decision to single out just a couple of families, thanking those two families for helping deliver this project in Pipalyatjara. This led to about 15 minutes of heated arguing and language over which family had done more. The old lady from Kalca stood up after about 10 or 15 minutes of arguing and, in a big spray in the Pitjantjatjara language, let everyone know that she did most of the work so they should all sit down—and everyone did.

There was a fundamental change under the old lady from Kalca's leadership on the APY Executive Board, and during that time it showed just how important it is to have women around the table, strong Aboriginal women. Her legacy is now enshrined in legislation. Amendments were made to ensure that APY communities must have equal numbers of females and males representing them on the executive board.

It is, however, disappointing to see that in many areas of society the inclusion of women and gender diversity, particularly at the board or executive level, is not met with more enthusiasm. Of the top 500 Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander corporations overseen by the Office of the Registrar of Indigenous Corporations (ORIC), 400 had at least 30 per cent female directors, which is much more than for non-Indigenous corporations. Also interesting and inspiring, I can remember hearing during NAIDOC Week on a radio report that, of the top 200 Aboriginal businesses in Australia, Aboriginal women make up 53 per cent of the board positions.

Finally, on the theme of strong Aboriginal women, who because of them we can, I want to turn to one particular strong, compassionate, inspiring Aboriginal woman: Aunty Viv, better known to me as mum. It is her more than anyone else I have known who encompasses this year's NAIDOC theme Because of Her, We Can! Although she is no longer with us, her influence continues to resonate deeply. Although the Aboriginal history and heritage in my mum's family was well known to them, it was not discussed widely and did not play a prominent part in my mum's childhood. My mum was raised in country Victoria in an era when racism was a more open and significant part of our society, and many people were made to feel ashamed of being part of the oldest living culture on the planet.

It was only about this time last year, in the last weeks before her death, that my mum spoke much more openly about her growing up and growing up as a young Aboriginal person. As she relayed to me, as a young kid at school, Viv Maher was sometimes asked about being an Aboriginal person. From photos of her as a young child, her obvious Aboriginality could not have been easy to deny. Viv went home from school and asked her parents about her family history after teachers asked about her being an Aboriginal person. She was firmly told by her parents something along the lines of, 'You don't talk about Aboriginal things. You don't tell people at school you are an Aboriginal. They are taking away the part-Aboriginal kids. They take them from their families.'

The deliberate racist policies of governments of the last century of stealing children from their families because of their Aboriginality has done so much damage to families, communities and enshrined and encouraged a denial of identity. But Aboriginal people and their culture is resilient: it has survived thousands of generations and is proud and surviving today. We have survived.

As an adult, Viv Maher connected deeply to her culture and heritage. She became heavily involved and was embraced by the Aboriginal community in Mount Gambier. Very little has instilled me with more pride than being on the streets of Mount Gambier and having young Ngarrindjeri or Booandik kids greet my mum with a big hug and, 'Hello Aunty.' On occasion, I have even seen my almost translucently white dad, Jim, being afforded the respect of being called Uncle because he was married to Aunty Viv.

One of the deepest signs of respect for Viv's role in the Aboriginal community was seeing Aboriginal flags flying at half mast on most buildings around Mount Gambier on the day of her funeral last year. I particularly want to thank my uncles and aunties from the Bonney, Brennan and Lovett families for their support over the last year. Like so many Aboriginal women, Viv Maher had an enormous impact on her world. Because of her, so many others could. She was always involved in ministerial advisory councils, local boards and community groups.

She had a couple of different jobs that I can remember. For much of my childhood she was a social worker and then administrated the women's shelter in Mount Gambier. I did not appreciate it as a primary school-aged kid that the time, but Viv's work with women who were suffering from the effects of domestic violence in isolated regional areas was a remarkable thing. There are many lives who were turned around and no doubt actually saved because of her work. Because of her, they could.

Viv spent a year as a high school economics teacher at Tenison Woods College in Mount Gambier and became very well known as the teacher who usually did not wear shoes and kept all her pens and pencils in her massive afro-style hair. After that, she spent time as a social worker at Centrelink in Mount Gambier where I am constantly reminded of the impact that she had on so many.

A story I had not heard until recently, which was told by her great friend and colleague Karen Lock, was that while working at Centrelink, if a client was struggling and needed a little extra to make it through the week, there was a special loans fund from which Viv could make discretionary loans. In reality there was no such fund. Viv was using her own money but was providing people with the dignity of believing that it was a loans fund.

Finally, there was the role that I think Viv considered the most important one, as a social worker at Pangula Mannamurna, the Aboriginal health service in Mount Gambier. In that role she was working with and for her community and eventually became deputy chair of the Aboriginal board that runs Pangula.

Viv Maher had an enormous impact on the world and the organisations she worked for but her biggest impact was at the most important level, the individual personal level. I reckon the most common phrase I have heard from people when talking about Viv has been, 'If it wasn't for Viv.' 'If it wasn't for Viv I never would have got that job.' 'If it wasn't for Viv there was no way I'd have the confidence to do that.' 'If it wasn't for Viv I may simply not be alive today.' To actually make a difference, to directly help change another person's life for the better is a remarkable thing and because of her so many could.

One of my brothers tells a story of a time when he had a part-time job at the Kraft cheese factory in Mount Gambier when a random woman came up and asked, 'Are you Viv Maher's son?' He said yes. She said, 'Well, Viv is amazing. I would be dead now if she hadn't turned my life around.' That has been asked of me a fair bit: 'Are you Viv's son?' It does not matter what I do, even the couple of times I had been acting premier of South Australia, if I was in the South-East I am Viv's son.

At last year's Premier's NAIDOC Awards—which seem by some to have been rebranded the 'NIDOCK' Awards, but I am well informed they are still the NAIDOC Awards—I had a conversation with one of the finalists who asked the usual line, 'Are you Viv's son?' and went on to tell me the works she had done with Viv in changing social work therapy practices to make them much more culturally appropriate for Aboriginal people. Even just a couple of months ago at the Aboriginal War Memorial in Adelaide on ANZAC Day an Aboriginal man approached me to let me know how Viv had saved his life.

Over the years when I have gone back home I have been forced to stay in another part of the house I grew up in because what I still consider, 25 years after leaving home, my bedroom was regularly given up for a couple of months or a couple of years to young Aboriginal people whose families were having difficulties, so my mum and dad took them in and looked after them.

Viv was deeply committed to bettering the lives of others. She became one of the first, if not the first—the records are not completely clear—South Australians to be awarded life membership of the Australian Association of Social Workers. In 2014, Viv was one of three people awarded life membership of the great Australian Labor Party, a cause she had been involved in for as long as I can remember, and in 2016 Viv was awarded the Limestone Coast NAIDOC Lifetime Achievement Award for her many years of work in and with the South-East Aboriginal community.

Viv Maher was a remarkable woman, a remarkable Aboriginal woman. Growing up I hated being told, 'Kyam, you're so much like your mother.' Even in photos of the two of us when we had reached six years old we look almost identical, and I had trouble telling us apart. But in so many ways I trace the work that I do on a daily basis to the work and ideals she was committed to. I am very much my mother's son: making a difference, making a positive difference in the lives of those facing disadvantage, particularly people in the Aboriginal community, and choosing a progressive policy through the Labor Party to try to effect change.

From my point of view, it is absolutely true that if it was not for Viv, I would not be doing what I am today. I am not directly changing people's lives on a daily basis like Viv did, but I am doing my bit to change the world for the better. Viv's work and her legacy carry on through her three sons, Ky, Cam and Gib, and her eight grandsons. Viv Maher's is just one story; one strong, determined Aboriginal woman, like so many who have made a massive difference to their families, their people and their communities. Because of her, because of all the aunties and sisters, many who have joined us here today, we can. I commend the motion to the chamber.

Honourable members: Hear, hear!

Debate adjourned on motion of Hon. J.S.L. Dawkins.