Wiradjuri elder Isabel Reid was born in Wagga Wagga, NSW, in 1932. One afternoon she was walking home from school with her brother and sister when she was taken from her family by the government. Her parents did not know what happened to their children.
Aunty Isabel was to become a domestic servant, sent to the Cootamundra Domestic Training Home, where wages for her work were paid to the NSW government.
She was denied the opportunity of a good education, denied a bond to her family, community and country, and was targeted for no other reason than the fact she was Aboriginal.
Today Aunty Isabel is one of the oldest living survivors of the Stolen Generations, and last month I was able to meet and talk with her in Canberra as she was honoured as the NSW Senior Australian of the Year and nominated for Senior Australian of the Year.
She reflected on her own journey: “My life is pretty simple; what I do, I do for my community and for all the children out there that need the helping hand that I didn’t get way back then.”
Isabel’s story is just one of tens of thousands of children who were forcibly removed between 1910 and 1970 by Australian governments. This is undoubtedly one of the darker chapters in our nation’s story.
Saturday marks the 13th anniversary of the apology to the Stolen Generations. It’s a day for us to reflect on practices undertaken by governments in the past that sought to disrupt and destroy the world’s longest living culture.
It’s a day for us to pay respect to those members of the Stolen Generations, the survivors, those who have followed in their footsteps and those who are no longer with us. It’s a day for us to acknowledge the tremendous loss and suffering, and it’s a day to celebrate the resilience and determination to survive.
Today also allows us to pause and gain a greater appreciation for our nation’s shared history.
The suffering felt by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians gives way to a grief that we share with our non-Indigenous brothers and sisters.
The apology was a moment for our country to heal. It was our opportunity, as Australians, to say it was wrong for parliaments and governments to remove Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children from their families, their communities and their country.
The apology brought us together and recognised the significant contribution Indigenous Australians had made and continue to make to this great nation.
Thirteen years on, there is a greater understanding of our place in history, the significance of our connection to land and water, and the way in which we cared for each other and our country for tens of thousands of years. Today we can acknowledge the hurt and pain inflicted through dispossession, disease and disruption.
And, while this is difficult and it can hurt, alongside this acknowledgment is the celebration of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander culture that has spanned 65,000 years.
There is a yearning to understand how we have cared for country, land and sea. There is a thirst to celebrate our culture, our language, our stories, our dance and our song.
This is a story that is sewn through the fabric of modern-day Australia.
My mother was a survivor of the Stolen Generations. I count myself as one of the fortunate ones. I worked hard to make the most of the opportunities afforded to me through her resilience, hard work and determination.
Today I sit in our federal parliament as an equal, representing the nation I love and the people who strive to be their best day in and day out.
Sadly, my story isn’t shared by all, but I know I have an obligation to commit myself to ensuring that the next generation of Indigenous Australians is better placed to succeed in life.
There is much work to do, but we have come a long way even in my lifetime.
On this day I reflect on the words of the apology because they serve as an important reminder of the journey we have all walked, a significant moment on the path to reconciliation, an acknowledgment of our shared history, the importance of our contribution to this national story. It is a story that in parts is raw and painful, and it is a story that in other parts shows that our resilience and determination, built up over 65,000 years, lives and grows in strength today.
Ken Wyatt is the federal Indigenous Affairs Minister.
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