First Nations, bisexual, a Bachelorette: Brooke Blurton on ‘walking in two worlds’

Each week, Benjamin Law asks public figures to discuss the subjects we’re told to keep private by getting them to roll a die. The numbers they land on are the topics they’re given. This week, he talks to Brook Blurton. The Noongar-Yamatji broadcaster, youth worker and mental-health advocate, 28, was the first Indigenous and bisexual Bachelorette. She co-hosts the podcast Not So PG and is the author of the memoir Big Love.

Brook Blurton: “Growing up First Nations, you’re sort of born into politics. I am, just by existing, political.”Credit: Benny Capp

RELIGION

What do you believe in? My ancestors and my ancestral power. As a First Nations person, there are aspects of religion – particularly Christianity – that came out of colonisation and missions. When I was in foster care, I was taken to church and Sunday school … and I was very confused as our beliefs were focused on serving others, community, rather than just serving one god. I believed in what was taught to me: community, ancestors and women as our first educators.

Do you have any rituals or superstitions? We grew up having Mum tell us things to scare us into doing stuff. She’d talk about these mythological creatures that come out at night. You had to be home before sundown and you weren’t allowed to whistle at night, otherwise these things would get you. [Laughs] They’re called karadji, or featherfoots. Creatures that kidnap little children and eat them. As soon as the sun started to go down, we’d sprint home!

Of the seven deadly sins – pride, greed, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony and sloth – what are you most susceptible to? [Laughs] Sloth.

Full goblin mode, then. [Nods] And pride. Sometimes I think my ego is a little bit much.

Religious people go to churches, temples and mosques. Where do you go? To Country.

MONEY

You were raised in Carnarvon, WA, lost your mum when you were 11 and were in foster care for a while. What was money like for you growing up? We didn’t have it. Mum was on welfare and, for the majority of my childhood, I was living in poverty. Mum used to make a little go a long way, and people would help out. My relationship with money – when I started to earn it – wasn’t always the most positive. I thought it was going to be taken away from me. With a lot of education, that got better.

Where did that education come from? Coming out of high school, I got my first full-time, big-girl job – a corporate role working in a mining company. I’m [still] very conflicted about it. It gave me an opportunity to build myself up; at the same time, it was off the back of mining Aboriginal land. It gave me employment and financial stability. I needed to pay my own tax, my superannuation. It was mostly self-taught, but with a little bit of advice from money experts: listening to podcasts, reading books. I don’t think a lot of mob understands finance. It’s an effect of colonisation, I think. It was probably something I feared the most. I always found talking about money really difficult and uncomfortable until I gained this confidence. Now I love making money. It goes back to my community; it helps my family.

You’re famous. Are you rich? Absolutely not. I’m not driving an Aston Martin and I’m not living in a mansion – yet. But I’m rich in culture, community and friendship.

How much were you paid to be the Bachelorette? It was in the six-figure mark – more than some of the previous Bachelor contestants. My argument was that I wanted to be paid the same [as the men].

What was your last happy purchase? A very low-key Suzuki Jimny. It’s awesome.

What was your last regret-purchase? My drone. And my $50 emotional-support water bottle. That’s just stupid.

POLITICS

What life experiences influenced and shaped your politics and values the most, looking back? Growing up First Nations, you’re sort of born into politics. I am, just by existing, political.

Because you’re politicised? One hundred per cent. I grew up walking in two worlds: a young person in Western society, but also having a connection to my Aboriginality. I always knew that a lot of people didn’t have much respect for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. It wasn’t until I did some research into the history and learning at school – truth-telling – that I understood where we stood as a people in the eyes of society. That made me more passionate.

You were the first First Nations Bachelorette and the first bisexual Bachelorette. To what extent are those “firsts” an honour and a burden? When I was doing it, I could feel the gravity of it and understood how much it meant to the people and communities I represent. I feared that I’d be an embarrassment, that I’d come across as tacky or misunderstood. It’s not a burden – just a lot of pressure. You see all these people in similar positions. They can f--- up: I can’t.

You’re a strong advocate for the Voice to Parliament. Are you feeling optimistic or pessimistic right now? I always think worst-case scenario. But I’ve always been a huge advocate for the Voice. In 2019, I was part of the youth dialogue, pushing for the Voice and the campaign work that comes along with that. For me, the Voice will determine a lot. A “yes” vote would mean that change is happening. A “no” vote will be reflective of the racism in our country and how we treat First Nations people. One argument is that the Voice isn’t enough. I personally think that the Voice is something, more than nothing. Whether a treaty or the Voice comes first, it’s still change.

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