Academic literature on the topic 'Aboriginal Australians Public opinion History'

A survey of public opinion on archaeological heritage in British Columbia, Canada, focused on five main areas: knowledge of archaeology, interest and participation in archaeology, the role of archaeology in modern society, awareness and support of heritage conservation initiatives, and Aboriginal stewardship of the archaeological record. Public opinion data collected from a random sample of 963 residents of the greater Vancouver metropolitan area indicate a high level of interest and support for archaeology and heritage conservation, but also a high level of misunderstanding about the archaeological record and current legislative measures to protect it. In contrast to recent changes in legislation and initiations within the discipline, public attitude towards Aboriginal stewardship of archaeological resources is generally negative. Education, age, and gender are significant factors affecting differences in opinion.

Discussion about the on-going poor health status of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island peoples in Australia needs to be better informed about both history, and the nature of health determining factors. Access is only one of many factors of importance in health seeking behaviour. This paper explores how the cultural appropriateness of health care services is a determinant of whether they are accessed or not. Contemporary attitudes, and their historical roots, are key issues which need to be addressed by health care providers and services. The onus is on health care providers to be informed and to act appropriately in all their interactions with health care consumers. The Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody provides some useful suggestions for improving the quality of health care services for Indigenous Australians.

Despite decades of evidence showing that institutional and interpersonal racism serve as significant barriers to accessible healthcare for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples, attempts to address this systemic problem still fall short. The social determinants of health are particularly poignant given the socio-political-economic history of invasion, colonisation, and subsequent entrenchment of racialised practices in the Australian healthcare landscape. Embedded within Euro-centric, bio-medical discourses, Western dominated healthcare processes can erase significant cultural and historical contexts and unwittingly reproduce unsafe practices. Put simply, if Black lives matter in healthcare, why do Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Peoples die younger and experience ‘epidemic’ levels of chronic diseases as compared to white Australians? To answer this, we utilise critical race perspectives to theorise this gap and to de-center whiteness as the normalised position of ‘doing’ healthcare. We draw on our diverse knowledges through a decolonised approach to promote a theoretical discussion that we contend can inform alternative ways of knowing, being, and doing in healthcare practice in Australia.

Issue addressed: Australia has succeeded in lowering the overall prevalence of tobacco smoking in the last four decades and has enjoyed a worldwide reputation for innovative policy. However, this success has not extended to Indigenous Australians. Method: Narrative review and critique of literature from government, public health, health promotion, marketing and communication on smoking cessation in Australia. Main points: We first consider the history of government anti-smoking measures including legislation and communication initiatives including advertising and sponsorship bans, health warnings and ‘no smoking’ rules affecting anti-smoking norms, culminating in the banning of branding and the advent of tobacco plain packaging. We also review the effects of excise increases and smoking cessation aids such as quit lines and nicotine replacement therapy. For each type of intervention, both population-wide and those specifically directed at Indigenous people, we consider the probable reasons for the failure to reach Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people or alter their smoking patterns, and make suggestions for improvements in interventions and their evaluation. Conclusion: The history of anti-smoking initiatives in Australia suggests that community-based health initiatives are likely to be more effective in addressing Indigenous people and helping smokers to quit.

AbstractObjectiveTo investigate the experiences of women participating in a cooking and nutrition component of a health promotion research initiative in an Australian Aboriginal regional community.DesignWeekly facilitated cooking and nutrition classes were conducted during school terms over 12 months. An ethnographic action research study was conducted for the programme duration with data gathered by participant and direct observation, four yarning groups and six individual yarning sessions. The aim was to determine the ways the cooking and nutrition component facilitated lifestyle change, enabled engagement, encouraged community ownership and influenced community action.SettingRegional Bindjareb community in the Nyungar nation of Western Australia.SubjectsA sample of seventeen Aboriginal women aged between 18 and 60 years from the two kinships in two towns in one shire took part in the study. The recruitment and consent process was managed by community Elders and leaders.ResultsMajor themes emerged highlighting the development of participants and their recognition of the need for change: the impact of history on current nutritional health of Indigenous Australians; acknowledging shame; challenges of change around nutrition and healthy eating; the undermining effect of mistrust and limited resources; the importance of community control when developing health promotion programmes; finding life purpose through learning; and the need for planning and partnerships to achieve community determination.ConclusionsSuggested principles for developing cooking and nutrition interventions are: consideration of community needs; understanding the impact of historical factors on health; understanding family and community tensions; and the engagement of long-term partnerships to develop community determination.

Abstract This paper traces the history of Aboriginal people’s participation in national spectacle and argues that the Indian Pavilion at Expo 67 was unique in its assertion of the portrayal of Native/Newcomer relations. Historians have interpreted the impact of the Indian Pavilion as an event that awakened non-Native Canadians to both the plight of Aboriginal peoples and their increasing unwillingness to suffer in silence. The controversy over the contents and general argument of the Indian Pavilion followed soon after the release of the two-volume Hawthorn Report on the social and economic conditions First Nations faced, and operated just as the federal government was initiating a series of talks with First Nations leaders to forge a new policy towards First Nations. At the same time, there is little evidence that the Indian Pavilion, whatever succès de scandale it enjoyed, had a lasting impact on public opinion or policymakers. Where the experience of mounting, operating, and defending the Indian Pavilion did matter, however, was with First Nations themselves. Whether causation or coincidence, the newfound confidence and pride that underlay the creation of the Indian Pavilion was completely consistent with the positive demeanour of Aboriginal political leaders from the late 1960s on.

Introduction Health outcomes and life expectancy of Indigenous people throughout the world are far poorer than non-Indigenous populations. Emerging evidence from research shows that many social issues which impact on Indigenous peoples globally is linked to trauma over generations. This review explores literature about Indigenous people from around the world to seek interventions which have been successful in healing intergenerational trauma. Method To identify interventions that have been successful in healing intergenerational trauma amongst Indigenous populations globally, a systematic search strategy was conducted using keywords and synonyms related to the topic. Peer reviewed academic literature was sourced from four different databases i.e. Ebscohost, PubMed, CINAHL and Medline. Results There were 89 citations, 55 were identified as relevant, after duplicate copies were removed. Of these 55 papers, 23 met inclusion/exclusion criteria. Two additional papers from a reference lists were included and a total of 25 papers were analysed. A comprehensive critical appraisal of the literature was undertaken using three different appraisal tools. This review found that interventions which were successful in healing intergenerational trauma amongst Indigenous populations incorporated traditional cultural practices within their healing method(s). Discussion There was strong evidence that strengthening and reclaiming cultural identity enhances mental health disorders commonly experienced throughout Indigenous populations. Often non-Indigenous clinicians, although well intentioned, fail to address the needs of Indigenous people because they lack the understanding and awareness of Indigenous people’s culture. This review highlights benefits of blending Indigenous and Western approaches into healing intergenerational trauma and the concept of ‘Two-Eyed Seeing’. This concept acknowledges that each of our worlds has its strengths and if we respectfully and methodically accept these strengths, they can work together and effectively to bring about healing. Conclusion Healing from intergenerational trauma is not a straightforward process. Incorporating traditional healing methods assists in the development of cultural identity, which was found to be extremely important in the healing process. To address trauma effectively, clinicians need to acknowledge the historical impact from public policies by having a real understanding of our history.

Objective: The relationship between psychosis and contact with the criminal justice system for Indigenous people living in rural and remote areas is not well understood. In this study, the authors examine patterns of incarceration among Indigenous people living with psychosis in Cape York and the Torres Strait over two decades. Methods: Data were collated from a clinical database of complete psychiatric records from 1992 to 2015, extracted for all Indigenous patients with a psychotic disorder from the Remote Area Mental Health Service, and linked to the Queensland Corrections Service database. Descriptive statistics were calculated to compare characteristics between those incarcerated and those not incarcerated during the study period and to quantify patterns of incarceration including types of offences, time spent in custody and frequency of incarceration. Multivariate Cox regression analysis was used to assess associations between reported variables and ‘first incarceration’. Results: Forty-five percent of Aboriginal patients ( n = 116) were incarcerated compared with 31% of Torres Strait Islanders ( n = 41) ( p = 0.008), and the proportion of males incarcerated (51%, n = 141) was approximately twice that of females (24%, n = 35; p = 0.001). A cluster of first incarcerations were observed in close time proximity to diagnosis of psychosis. Individuals who had a history of both alcohol and cannabis use had approximately two times higher risk of being incarcerated following positive diagnosis compared to those without a history of substance use (hazard ratio = 1.85; 95% confidence interval: [1.08, 3.17]; p = 0.028). Males accounted for approximately 85% ( n = 328) of sentences. The most common most serious offence was causing physical harm to others (assault – n = 122, 31%). Conclusion: Our study found that for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people with a psychotic disorder in North Queensland, criminal justice responses with resultant incarceration occurs frequently. Access to appropriate mental health services and diversion options for Indigenous Australians with psychosis should be a key public health and justice priority.

The Natural City: Re-Envisioning the Built Environment.Edited by INGRID LEMAN STEFANOVIC and STEPHEN BEDE SCHARPER. Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2012. $35.00Reviewed by Madison Van WestEditors Ingrid Leman Stefanovic and Stephen Bede Scharper believe that there is something unnatural about our cities, but not for the reasons you might think. It is not the concrete, or the high-rises, or the cars—at least not necessarily. Our cities are unnatural because individuals within them lack a sense of place. They lack a spiritual connection to the built environment, and they lack an understanding that our cities are as much a part of the ecological system as trees and meadows. The task of The Natural City: Re-Envisioning the Built Environment is to begin the work of reconnecting the urban to the natural so that individuals might live more fulfilling and sustainable lives. It is an essential read for anyone involved in city-building, or for city-dwellers looking to gain a new perspective on their role in the urban environment.Each of the volume’s four sections takes a different theoretical approach to “natural city.” The first section lays the philosophical groundwork for the reader to better understand the natural/urban divide and the pervasive sense that cities are somewhere other than nature, as are the humans that live within them. This viewpoint is an appropriate starting place for the collection, and a theme that runs throughout, as it informs how we approach environmental issues generally and how we build our cities specifically. Technocracy and expert opinion reigns in planning and architecture, usually at the expense of meaning and purpose within our urban spaces that responds to our needs as human beings. Peter Timmerman, in his chapter, is not surprised by this separation, as our literary and philosophical history has been preoccupied with the urban and human mastery over the natural for some time.In the second section, we see that temples, mosques, churches, and other sacred spaces are not the only built forms imbued with spiritual meaning. In the natural city, the entire city would reflect and respond to the spiritual needs of its inhabitants. This does not presume a single cosmological understanding shared by all, but instead a common understanding that the city is more than its physical composition. Vincent Shen explains that this is logical for Daoists, who view the Dao as being embodied in the way we create and navigate cities. In his chapter, Stephen Scharper argues that religion is not a necessary element of this shift. He cites Aldo Leopold’s land ethic as means to facilitate this ideological shift in urban planning to focus on the integrity of the biotic community rather than solely the human community. This perspective is, in my view, among the most important contributions to literature on urban planning, which is notably lacking in discussions of religion and spirituality in the built environment.The third section focuses on the role of society in the natural city, both as creator and inhabitant, with an eclectic group of authors whose connection to one another is not always readily apparent. For example, Richard Oddie’s work on acoustic ecology and soundscapes in cities bumps up against Trish Glazebrook’s ecofeminist approach to engaging the cityzenry (her term to distinguish residents of a city vs. residents of a nation). This section also offers an international perspective through John B. Cobb, Jr.’s case study of China and Shubhra Gururani’s of India, which describes the challenges of sustainable development and the impact of development on society’s ability to access the necessities of life, respectively. The chapters in this section may appear dissimilar, but they find common ground in themes of politics, citizenship, quality of life, and urban development.To close, the final section considers praxis, or the linking of theory and practice in building the natural city. William Woodsworth makes explicit the fact that the City of Toronto is built on the land of Aboriginal communities, and their legacy remains in both the artifacts still under the ground and the modern architecture that channels the spirit of the city’s former inhabitants. Complementing this historical approach, Robert Mugerauer writes of city-building that reflects ecological systems within nature; healthy cities with clean air and soil and thriving watersheds. Above all, this section highlights the fact that cities are always changing, and it is our responsibility to guide that change in a way that reflects the human need for creativity, the biological need for adaptability, and the need for all life to thrive into the future.Though only a few chapters were mentioned above, it is clear that this collection is truly interdisciplinary; offering works in the field of philosophy, anthropology, theology, engineering, architecture, and more. This breadth exposes readers to many fields of study that may not always be in communication with each other. The virtues of interdisciplinary learning have been widely espoused, especially in environmental studies, but in this context it is especially important, as the task of creating the natural city will involve the collaboration of entire societies. The collection also manages the challenge of discussing complicated concepts in clear language, successfully balancing a depth of analysis and accessibility of concepts.So, what does the natural city look like, and how do we get there? In the end, the answer is not explicitly clear. What is clear from the collection is that to discover the natural city requires a paradigm shift; a change in thinking that will compel individuals to view urban environments not as cold or devoid of life, but instead as natural spaces full of inherited spirit, meaning, and potential. This collection starts the dialogue on reintegrating the natural with the urban; an essential topic for the survival of human and non-human alike. ~MADISON VAN WEST is a Masters in Environmental Studies and Planning Candidate at York University. She is currently working to uncover new forms of public involvement and community engagement in city building.

In recent years a number of dramas focussing on Indigenous Australians and Australian history have appeared on the ABC, one of Australia's two public television channels. These dramas have different foci but all represent some aspects of Australian Indigenous history and how it interacts with 'mainstream' representations of Australian history. The four programs I will look at are Cleverman (Goalpost Pictures, 2016-ongoing), Glitch (Matchbox Films, 2015-ongoing), The Secret River (Ruby Entertainment, 2015) and Redfern Now (Blackfella Films, 2012), each of which engages with the past in a unique way.Clearly, different creators, working with different plots and in different genres will have different ways of representing the past. Redfern Now and Cleverman are both produced by Indigenous creators whereas the creators of The Secret River and Glitch are white Australians. Redfern Now and The Secret River are in a realist mode, whereas Glitch and Cleverman are speculative fiction. My argument proceeds on two axes: first, speculative genres allow for more creative ways of representing the past. They give more freedom for the creators to present affective representations of the historical past. Speculative genres also allow for more interesting intellectual examinations of what we consider to be history and its uncertainties. My second axis argues, because it is hard to avoid when looking at this group of texts, that Indigenous creators represent the past in different ways than non-Indigenous creators. Indigenous creators present a more elliptical vision. Non-Indigenous creators tend to address historical stories in more overt ways. It is apparent that even when dealing with the same histories and the same facts, the understanding of the past held by different groups is presented differently because it has different affective meanings.These television programs were all made in the 2010s but the roots of their interpretations go much further back, not only to the history they represent but also to the arguments about history that have raged in Australian intellectual and popular culture. Throughout most of the twentieth century, indigenous history was not discussed in Australia, until this was disturbed by WEH Stanner's reference in the Boyer lectures of 1968 to "our great Australian silence" (Clark 73). There was, through the 1970s and 80s, increased discussion of Indigenous history, and then in the 1990s there was a period of social and cultural argument known locally as the 'History Wars'. This long-running public disagreement took place in both academic and public arenas, and involved historians, other academics, politicians, journalists and social commentators on each side. One side argued that the arrival of white people in Australia led to frontier wars, massacre, attempted genocide and the ongoing oppression of Indigenous people (Reynolds). The other posited that when white people arrived they killed a few Aborigines but mostly Aboriginal people were killed by disease or failure to 'defend' their culture (Windschuttle). The first viewpoint was revisionist from the 1960s onwards and the second represented an attempt at counter-revision – to move the understanding of history back to what it was prior to the revision. The argument took place not only among historians, but was taken up by politicians with Paul Keating, prime minister 1993-1996, holding the first view and John Howard, prime minister 1996-2007, aggressively pursuing the second. The revisionist viewpoint was championed by historians such as Henry Reynolds and Lyndall Ryan and academics and Aboriginal activists such as Tony Birch and Aileen Moreton Robinson; whereas the counter-revisionists had Keith Windschuttle and Geoffrey Blainey. By and large the revisionist viewpoint has become dominant and the historical work of the counter-revisionists is highly disputed and not accepted.This argument was prominent in Australian cultural discourse throughout the 1990s and has never entirely disappeared. The TV shows I am examining were not made in the 1990s, nor were they made in the 2000s - it took nearly twenty years for responses to the argument to make the jump from politicians' speeches and opinion pieces to television drama. John Ellis argues that the role of television in popular discourse is "working through," meaning contentious issues are first raised in news reports, then they move to current affairs, then talk shows and documentaries, then sketch comedy, then drama (Ellis). Australian Indigenous history was extensively discussed in the news, current affairs and talk shows in the 1990s, documentaries appeared somewhat later, notably First Australians in 2008, but sketch comedy and drama did not happen until in 2014, when Black Comedy's programme first aired, offering sketches engaging often and fiercely with indigenous history.The existence of this public discourse in the political and academic realms was reflected in film before television. Felicity Collins argues that the "Blak Wave" of Indigenous film came to exist in the context of, and as a response to, the history wars (Collins 232). This wave of film making by Indigenous film makers included the works of Rachel Perkins, Warwick Thornton and Ivan Sen – whose films chronicled the lives of Indigenous Australians. There was also what Collins calls "back-tracking films" such as Rabbit-Proof Fence (2002) and The Tracker (2010) made by white creators that presented arguments from the history wars for general audiences. Collins argues that both the "blak wave" and the "back track" created an alternative cultural sphere where past injustices are acknowledged. She says: "the films of the Blak Wave… cut across the history wars by turning an Indigenous gaze on the colonial past and its afterlife in the present" (Collins 232). This group of films sees Indigenous gazes relate the past and present whereas the white gaze represents specific history. In this article I examine a similar group of representations in television programs.History is not an innocent discourse. In western culture 'history' describes a certain way of looking at the past that was codified in the 19th century (Lloyd 375). It is however not the only way to look at the past, theorist Mark Day has described it as a type of relation with the past and argues that other understandings of the past such as popular memory and mythology are also available (Day). The codification of history in the 19th century involved an increased reliance on documentary evidence, a claim to objectivity, a focus on causation and, often though not always, a focus on national, political history. This sort of history became the academic understanding of history – which claims to be, if not objective, at least capable of disinterest; which bases its arguments on facts and which can establish its facts through reference to documentary records (Froeyman 219). Aileen Moreton-Robinson would call this "white patriarchal knowledge" that seeks to place the indigenous within its own type of knowledge production ("The White Man's Burden" 414). The western version of history tends to focus on causation and to present the past as a coherent narrative leading to the current point in time. This is not an undisputed conception of history in the western academy but it is common and often dominant.Post-colonialist analyses of history argue that western writing about non-western subjects is biased and forces non-westerners into categories used to oppress them (Anderson 44). These categories exist ahistorically and deny non-westerners the ability to act because if history cannot be perceived then it is difficult to see the future. That is to say, because non-western subjects in the past are not seen as historical actors, as people whose actions effected the future, then, in the present, they are unable to access to powerful arguments from history. Historians' usual methodology casts Indigenous people as the 'subjects' of history which is about them, not by them or for them (Tuhiwai Smith 7, 30-32, 144-5). Aboriginal people are characterised as prehistoric, ancient, timeless and dying (Birch 150). This way of thinking about Indigenous Australia removes all agency from Aboriginal actors and restoring agency has been a goal of Aboriginal activists and historians. Aileen Moreton Robinson discusses how Aboriginal resistance is embodied through "oral history (and) social memory," engaging with how Aboriginal actors represent themselves and are represented in relation to the past and historical settings is an important act ("Introduction" 127).Redfern Now and Cleverman were produced through the ABC's Indigenous Department and made by Indigenous filmmakers, whereas Glitch and The Secret River are from the ABC drama department and were made by white Australians. The different programs also have different generic backgrounds. Redfern Now and The Secret River are different forms of realist texts; social realism and historical realism. Cleverman and Glitch, however, are speculative fiction texts that can be argued to be in the mode of magical realism, they "denaturalise the real and naturalise the marvellous" they are also closely tied ideas of retelling colonial stories and "resignify(ing) colonial territories and pasts" (Siskind 834-5).Redfern Now was produced by Blackfella Films for the ABC. It was, with much fanfare, released as the first drama made for television, by Aboriginal people and about Aboriginal people (Blundell). The central concerns of the program are issues in the present, its plots and settings are entirely contemporary. In this way it circumvents the idea and standard representation of Indigenous Australians as ancient and timeless. It places the characters in the program very much in the present.However, one episode "Stand Up" does obliquely engage with historical concerns. In this episode a young boy, Joel Shields, gets a scholarship to an expensive private school. When he attends his first school assembly he does not sing the national anthem with the other students. This leads to a dispute with the school that forms the episode's plot. As punishment for not singing Joel is set an assignment to research the anthem, which he does and he finds the song off-putting – with the words 'boundless plains to share' particularly disconcerting. His father supports him saying "it's not our song" and compares Joel singing it to a "whitefella doing a corrobboree". The national anthem stands metaphorically for the white hegemony in Australia.The school itself is also a metaphor for hegemony. The camerawork lingers on the architecture which is intended to imply historical strength and imperviousness to challenge or change. The school stands for all the force of history white Australia can bring to bear, but in Australia, all architecture of this type is a lie, or at least an exaggeration – the school cannot be more than 200 years old and is probably much more recent.Many of the things the program says about history are conveyed in half sentences or single glances. Arguably this is because of its aesthetic mode – social realism – that prides itself on its mimicry of everyday life and in everyday life people are unlikely to set out arguments in organised dot-point form. At one point the English teacher quotes Orwell, "those who control the past control the future", which seems overt but it is stated off-screen as Joel walks into the room. This seeming aside is a statement about history and directly recalls central arguments of the history wars, which make strong political arguments about the effects of the past, and perceptions of the past, on the present and future. Despite its subtlety, this story takes place within the context of the history wars: it is about who controls the past. The subtlety of the discussion of history allows the film makers the freedom to comment on the content and effects of history and the history wars without appearing didactic. They discuss the how history has effected the present history without having to make explicit historical causes.The other recent television drama in the realist tradition is The Secret River. This was an adaptation of a novel by Kate Grenville. It deals with Aboriginal history from the perspective of white people, in this way it differs from Redfern Now which discusses the issues from the perspective of Aboriginal people. The plot concerns a man transported to Australia as a convict in the early 19th century. The man is later freed and, with his family, attempts to move to the Hawksbury river region. The land they try to settle is, of course, already in use by Aboriginal people. The show sets up the definitional conflict between the idea of settler and invader and suggests the difference between the two is a matter of perspective. Of the shows I am examining, it is the most direct in its representation of historical massacre and brutality. It represents what Felicity Collins described as a back-tracking text recapitulating the colonial past in the light of recovered knowledge. However, from an Indigenous perspective it is another settler tale implying Aboriginal people were wiped out at the time of colonisation (Godwin).The Secret River is told entirely from the perspective of the invaders. Even as it portrays their actions as wrong, it also suggests they were unavoidable or inevitable. Therefore it does what many western histories of Indigenous people do – it classifies and categorises. It sets limits on interpretation. It is also limited by its genre, as a straightforward historical drama and an adaptation, it can only tell its story in a certain way. The television series, like the book before it, prides itself on its 'accurate' rendition of an historical story. However, because it comes from such a very narrow perspective it falls into the trap of categorising histories that might have usefully been allowed to develop further.The program is based on a novel that attracted controversy of its own. It became part of ongoing historiographical debate about the relationship between fiction and history. The book's author Kate Grenville claimed to have written a kind of affectively accurate history that actual history can never convey because the emotions of the past are hidden from the present. The book was critiqued by historians including Inge Clendinnen, who argued that many of the claims made about its historical accuracy were largely overblown (Clendinnen). The book is not the same as the TV program, but the same limitations identified by Clendinnen are present in the television text. However, I would not agree with Clendinnen that formal history is any better. I argue that the limitation of both these mimetic genres can be escaped in speculative fiction.In Glitch, Yurana, a small town in rural Victoria becomes, for no apparent reason, the site of seven people rising from the dead. Each person is from a different historical period. None are Indigenous. They are not zombies but simply people who used to be dead. One of the first characters to appear in the series is an Aboriginal teenager, Beau, we see from his point of view the characters crawling from their graves. He becomes friendly with one of the risen characters, Patrick Fitzgerald, who had been the town's first mayor. At first Fitzgerald's story seems to be one of working class man made good in colonial Australia - a standard story of Australian myth and historiography. However, it emerges that Fitzgerald was in love with an Aboriginal woman called Kalinda and Beau is his descendant. Fitzgerald, once he becomes aware of how he has been remembered by history, decides to revise the history of the town – he wants to reclaim his property from his white descendants and give it to his Indigenous descendants. Over the course of the six episodes Fitzgerald moves from being represented as a violent, racist boor who had inexplicably become the town's mayor, to being a romantic whose racism was mostly a matter of vocabulary. Beau is important to the plot and he is a sympathetic character but he is not central and he is a child. Indigenous people in the past have no voice in this story – when flashbacks are shown they are silent, and in the present their voices are present but not privileged or central to the plot.The program demonstrates a profoundly metaphorical relationship with the past – the past has literally come to life bringing with it surprising buried histories. The program represents some dominant themes in Australian historiography – other formerly dead characters include a convict-turned-bush-ranger, a soldier who was at Gallipoli, two Italian migrants and a girl who died as a result of sexual violence – but it does not engage directly with Indigenous history. Indigenous people's stories are told only in relation to the stories of white people. The text's magical realism allows a less prescriptive relationship with the past than in The Secret River but it is still restricted in its point of view and allows only limited agency to Aboriginal actors.The text's magical realism allows for a thought-provoking representation of relationships with the past. The town of Yurana is represented as a place deeply committed to the representation and glorification of its past. Its main street contains statues of its white founders and war memorials, one of its main social institutions is the RSL, its library preserves relics of the past and its publican is a war history buff. All these indicate that the past is central to the town's identity. The risen dead however dispute and revise almost every aspect of this past. Even the history that is unmentioned in the town's apparent official discourse, such as the WWII internment camp and the history of crimes, is disputed by the different stories of the past that the risen dead have to tell. This indicates the uncertainty of the past, even when it seems literally set in stone it can still be revised. Nonetheless the history of Indigenous people is only revised in ways that re-engage with white history.Cleverman is a magical realist text profoundly based in allegory. The story concerns the emergence into a near future society of a group of people known as the "Hairies." It is never made clear where they came from or why but it seems they appeared recently and are unable to return. They are an allegory for refugees. Hairypeople are part of many Indigenous Australian stories, the show's creator, Ryan Griffen, stated that "there are different hairy stories throughout Australia and they differ in each country. You have some who are a tall, some are short, some are aggressive, some are friendly. We got to sort of pick which ones will fit for us and create the Hairies for our show" (Bizzaca).The Hairies are forced to live in an area called the Zone, which, prior to the arrival of the Hairy people, was a place where Aboriginal people lived. This place might be seen as a metaphor for Redfern but it is also an allegory for Australia's history of displacing Aboriginal people and moving and restricting them to missions and reserves. The Zone is becoming increasingly securitised and is also operating as a metaphor for Australia's immigration detention centres. The prison the Hairy characters, Djukura and Bunduu, are confined to is yet another metaphor, this time for both the over-representation of Aboriginal people in prison and the securitisation of immigration detention. These multiple allegorical movements place Australia's present refugee policies and historical treatment of Aboriginal people within the same lens. They also place the present, the past and the future within the same narrative space.Most of the cast is Aboriginal and much of the character interaction is between Aboriginal people and Hairies, with both groups played by Indigenous actors. The disadvantages suffered by Indigenous people are part of the story and clearly presented as affecting the behaviour of characters but within the story Aboriginal people are more advantaged than Hairies, as they have systems, relationships and structures that Hairy people lack. The fact that so much of the interaction in the story is between Indigenous people and Hairies is important: it can be seen to be an interaction between Aboriginal people and Aboriginal mythology or between Indigenous past and present. It demonstrates Aboriginal identities being created in relation to other Aboriginal identities and not in relation to white people, where in this narrative, Aboriginal people have an identity other than that allowed for in colonialist terms.Cleverman does not really engage with the history of white invasion. The character who speaks most about this part of Aboriginal history and whose stated understanding of himself is based on that identity is Waruu. But Waruu is also a villain whose self-identity is also presented as jealous and dishonest. However, despite only passing mentions of westernised history the show is deeply concerned with a relationship with the past. The program engages with Aboriginal traditions about the past that have nothing to do with white history. It presents a much longer view of history than that of white Australia. It engages with the Aboriginal tradition of the Cleverman - demonstrated in the character of Uncle Jimmy who passes a nulla nulla (knob-headed hardwood club), as a symbol of the past, to his nephew Koen and tells him he is the new Cleverman. Cleverman demonstrates a discussion of Australian history with the potential to ignore white people. It doesn't ignore them, it doesn't ignore the invasion but it presents the possibility that it could be ignored.There is a danger in this sort of representation of the past that Aboriginal people could be relegated to the type of ahistorical, metahistorical myths that comprise colonialist history's representation of Indigenous people (Birch). But Cleverman's magical realist, near future setting tends to undermine this. It grounds representation in history through text and metaphor and then expands the definition.The four programs have different relationships with the past but all of them engage with it. The programs are both restrained and freed by the genres they operate in. It is much easier to escape the bounds of formal history in the genre of magical realism and both Glitch and Cleverman do this but have significantly different ways of dealing with history. "Stand up" and The Secret River both operate within more formally realist structures. The Secret River gives us an emotional reading of the past and a very affective one. However, it cuts off avenues of interpretation by presenting a seemingly inevitable tragedy. Through use of metaphor and silence "Stand up" presents a much more productive relationship with the past – seeing it as an ongoing argument rather than a settled one. Glitch engages with the past as a topic that is not settled and that can therefore be changed whereas Cleverman expands our definition of past and understanding of the past through allegory.It is possible to draw further connections. Those stories created by Indigenous people do not engage with the specifics of traditional dominant Australian historiography. However, they work with the assumption that everyone already knows this historiography. They do not re-present the pain of the past, instead they deal with it in oblique terms with allegory. Whereas the programs made by non-Indigenous Australians are much more overt in their representation of the sins of the past, they overtly engage with the History Wars in specific historical arenas in which those wars were fought. The non-Indigenous shows align themselves with the revisionist view of history but they do so in a very different way than the Indigenous shows.ReferencesAnderson, Ian. "Introduction: The Aboriginal Critique of Colonial Knowing." Blacklines: Contemporary Critical Writing by Indigenous Australians. Ed. Michele Grossman. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 2003.Birch, Tony. "'Nothing Has Changed': The Making and Unmaking of Koori Culture." Blacklines: Contemporary Critical Writing by Indigenous Australians. Ed. Michele Grossman. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 2003.Bizzaca, Chris. "The World of Cleverman." Screen Australia 2016.Blundell, Graeme. "Redfern Now Delves into the Lives of Ordinary People." The Australian 26 Oct. 2013: News Review.Clark, Anna. History's Children: History Wars in the Classroom. Sydney: New South, 2008.Clendinnen, Inga. “The History Question: Who Owns the Past?” The Quarterly Essay. Melbourne: Black Inc., 2006.Collins, Felicity. "After Dispossession: Blackfella Films and the Politics of Radical Hope." The Routledge Companion to Cinema and Politics. Eds. Yannis Tzioumakis and Claire Molloy. New York: Routledge, 2016.Day, Mark. "Our Relations with the Past." Philosophia 36.4 (2008): 417-27.Ellis, John. Seeing Things: Television in the Age of Uncertainty. London: I.B. Tauris, 2000.Froeyman, Anton. "The Ideal of Objectivity and the Public Role of the Historian: Some Lessons from the Historikerstreit and the History Wars." Rethinking History 20.2 (2016): 217-34.Godwin, Carisssa Lee. "Shedding the 'Victim Narrative' for Tales of Magic, Myth and Superhero Pride." The Conversation 2016.Lloyd, Christopher. "Historiographic Schools." A Companion to the Philosophy of History and Historiography Ed. Tucker, Aviezer. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009.Moreton-Robinson, Aileen. "Introduction: Resistance, Recovery and Revitalisation." Blacklines: Contemporary Critical Writing by Indigenous Australians. Ed. Michele Grossman. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 2003.———. "The White Man's Burden." Australian Feminist Studies 26.70 (2011): 413-31.Reynolds, Henry. The Other Side of the Frontier: Aboriginal Resistance to the European Invasion of Australia. 2nd ed. Ringwood, Vic.: Penguin Books, 1995.Siskind, Mariano. "Magical Realism." The Cambridge History of Postcolonial Literature. Vol. 2. Ed. Ato Quayson. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012. 833-68.Tuhiwai Smith, Linda. Decolonizing Methodologies Research and Indigenous Peoples. 2nd ed. London: Zed Books, 2012.Windschuttle, Keith. The Fabrication of Aboriginal History. Paddington, NSW: Macleay Press, 2002.

This thesis is a comparative study of the West�s intellectual responses to the indigenous inhabitants of Australia and New Zealand from the period of first contact through until 1850. The thesis does not attempt a comprehensive history of the West�s encounters with Australasia nor does it attempt to discuss the role of the indigene within these encounters. The thesis does, however, discuss the formulation and expression of those intellectual traditions that informed the Western response to the Maori and Aborigine. Specifically, each chapter addresses a particular aspect of the West�s interaction with the indigenous peoples of Australasia in order demonstrate how the Western narratives of exploration, travel and settlement were informed by the wider discourse of colonialism. Amongst some of the themes addressed in the course of this thesis are: the ideal of the �Good Savage�, the shifting notion of a �Great Chain of Being�, the rise of natural history as a system for classifying human difference and the importance of ideas of savagery in framing the colonial response to the Maori and Aborigine were characterised by similarities and continuities as much as by the more commonly acknowledged differences and discontinuities.

Since the 1980s, there has been an increasing emphasis on drama, in live theatre and on film, which re-addresses the ways in which the post-colonial histories of Australia and New Zealand have been written. Why is there such a focus on �historical� drama in these countries at the end of the twentieth century and what does this drama contribute to wider debates about post-colonial history? This thesis aims both to explore the connections between drama and history, and to analyse the interface between live and recorded drama. In order to discuss these issues, I have used the work of theatre and film critics and historians, supplemented by reference to writers working in the field of post-colonial and performance theory. In particular, I have utilised the methods of Helen Gilbert and Joanne Tompkins in Post-Colonial Drama: Theory, Practice, Politics, beginning with their claim that in the post-colonial situation history has been seen to determine reality itself. I have also drawn on theorists such as Michel Foucault, Linda Hutcheon and Guy Debord who question the �truth� value of official history-writing and emphasize the role of representation in determining popular perceptions of the past. This discussion is developed through reference to contemporary performance theory, particularly the work of Richard Schechner and Marvin Carlson, in order to suggest that there is no clear separation between performance and reality, and that access to history is only possible through re-enactments of it, whether in written or performative forms. Chapter One is a survey of the development of �historical� drama in theatre and film from New Zealand and Australia. This includes discussion of the diverse cultural and performative traditions which influence this drama, and establishment of the critical methodologies to be used in the thesis. Chapter Two examines four plays which are intercultural re-writings of canonical texts from the European dramatic tradition. In this chapter I analyse the formal and thematic strategies in each of these plays in relation to the source texts, and ask to what extent they function as canonical counter-discourse by offering a critique of the assumptions of the earlier play from a post-colonial perspective. The potential of dramatic representation in forming perceptions of reality has made it an attractive forum for Maori and Aboriginal artists, who are creating theatre which has both a political and a pedagogical function. This discussion demonstrates that much of the impetus towards historiographic drama in both countries has come from Maori and Aboriginal writers and directors working in collaboration with white practitioners. Such collaborations not only advance the project of historiographic drama, but also may form the basis of future theatre practice which departs from the Western tradition and is unique to each of New Zealand and Australia. In Chapter Three I explore the interface between live and recorded performance by comparing plays and films which dramatise similar historical material. I consider the relative effectiveness of theatre and film as media for historiographic critique. I suggest that although film often has a greater cultural impact than theatre, to date live theatre has been a more accessible form of expression for Maori and Aboriginal writers and directors. Furthermore, following theorists such as Brecht and Brook, I argue that such aspects as the presence of the live performer and the design of the physical space shared by actors and audience give theatre considerable potential for creating an immediate engagement with historiographic themes. In Chapter Four, I discuss two contrasting examples of recorded drama in order to highlight the potential of film and television as media for historiographic critique. I question the divisions between the documentary and dramatic genres, and use Derrida�s notion of play to suggest that there is a constant slippage between the dramatic and the real, between the past and the present. In Chapter Five, I summarize the arguments advanced in previous chapters, using the example of the national museum of New Zealand, Te Papa Tongarewa, to illustrate that the �performance� of history has become part of popular culture. Like the interactive displays at Te Papa, the texts studied in this thesis demonstrate that dramatic representation has the potential to re-define perceptions of historical �reality�. With its superior capacity for creating illusion, film is a dynamic medium for exploring the imaginative process of history is that in the live performance the spectator symbolically comes into the presence of the past.

Thesis (Ph.D.) -- University of Western Sydney, 2001.
"A thesis submitted in the School of Applied Social and Health Sciences at the University of Western Sydney (Nepean) for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy, February 2001" Bibliography : leaves 327-343.

"Warriors and Wanderers: Making Race in the Tasman World, 1769-1840" is an exploration of the development of racial thought in Australia and New Zealand from the period of first contact between British and the respective indigenous peoples to the signing of the Treaty of Waitangi. It analyses four groups of primary documents: the journals and published manuscripts of James Cook's Pacific voyages; An Account of the English Colony in New South Wales by David Collins published in 1798; documents written by and about Samuel Marsden, colonial chaplain in New South Wales and the father of the first mission to New Zealand; and the Reports from the British House of Commons Select Committee into the Treatment of Aborigines in the British Empire from 1835 to 1837. This study employs a transnational methodology and explores the early imperial history of the two countries as a Tasman world of imperial activity. It argues that ideas of human difference and racial thought had important material effects for the indigenous peoples of the region, and were critical to the design of colonial projects and ongoing relationships with both Maori and Aboriginal people, influencing the countries; and their national historiographies, right up to the present day. Part 1 examines the journals of James Cook's three Pacific voyages, and the ideas about Maori and Aboriginal people which were developed out them. The journals and published books of Cook's Pacific voyages depicted Maori as a warrior race living in hierarchical communities, people who were physically akin to Europeans and keen to interact with the voyagers, and who were understood to change their landscape as well as to defend their land, people who, I argue, were depicted as sovereign owners of their land. In Australia encounter was completely different, characterised by Aboriginal people's strategic use of withdrawal and observation, and British descriptions can be characterised as an ethnology of absence, with skin colour dominating documentation of Aboriginal people in the Endeavour voyage journals. Aboriginal withdrawal from encounter with the British signified to Banks that Aboriginal people had no defensive capability. Assumptions of low population numbers and that Aboriginal people did not change their landscape exacerbated this idea, and culminated in the concept that Aboriginal people were not sovereign owners of their country. Part 2 examines debates informing the decision to colonise the east coast of Australia through the evidence of Joseph Banks and James Matra to the British Government Committee on Transportation. The idea that Aboriginal people would not resist settlement was a feature not only of this expert evidence but dominated representation of the Sydney Eora community in David Collins's An Account of the English Colony in New South Wales, such that Aboriginal attacks on the settlement were not said to be resistance. A report of the kidnapping of two Muriwhenua Maori men by Norfolk Island colonial authorities was also included in Collins Account, relaying to a British audience a Maori view of their own communities while also opening up further British knowledge of the resources New Zealand offered the empire. The connection with Maori communities facilitated by British kidnapping and subsequent visits by Maori chiefs to New South Wales encouraged the New South Wales colonial chaplain Samuel Marsden to lobby for a New Zealand mission, which was established in 1814, as discussed in Part 3. Marsden was a tireless advocate for Maori civilisation and religious instruction, while he argued that Aboriginal people could not be converted to Christianity. Part 3 explores Marsden's colonial career in the Tasman world, arguing that his divergent actions in the two communities shaped racial thought about the two communities of the two countries. It explores the crucial role of the chaplain's connection to the Australian colony, especially through his significant holdings of land and his relationships with individual Aboriginal children who he raised in his home, to his depiction of Aboriginal people and his assessment of their capacity as human beings. Evidence from missionary experience in New Zealand was central to the divergent depictions of Tasman world indigenous people in the Buxton Committee Reports produced in 1836 and 1837, which are analysed in Part 4. The Buxton Committee placed their conclusions about Maori and Aboriginal people within the context of British imperial activity around the globe. While the Buxton Committee stressed that all peoples were owners of their land, in the Tasman world evidence suggested that Aboriginal people did not use land in a way that would confer practical ownership rights. And while the Buxton Committee believed that Australia's race relations were a failure of British benevolent imperialism, they did not feel that colonial expansion could, or should be, halted. Evidence from New Zealand stressed that Maori independence was threatened by those seen to be "inappropriate" British imperial agents who came via Australia, reinforcing a discourse of separation between Australia and New Zealand that Marsden had first initiated. While the Buxton Committee had not advocated the negotiation of treaties, the idea that Maori sovereignty was too fragile to be sustained justified the British decision to negotiate a treaty with Maori just three years after the Select Committee delivered its final Report.

Bibliography : leaves 351-380
xxii, 380 [37] leaves : ill., map ; 30 cm.
Title page, contents and abstract only. The complete thesis in print form is available from the University Library.
Thesis (Ph.D.)--University of Adelaide, Dept. of History, 1994?

Argues the importance of considering non-linguistic factors in understanding the community situation, the most important of these non-linguistic factors being the role of peoples attitudes. Outlines the situation in the target community. Discusses language attitude research and compares attitudes to language varieties around the world. Illustrates Australian Governmental attitudes through their past and present policies in dealing with Indigenous Australians.
Thesis (M.A.) -- University of Adelaide, Dept. of European Studies, 1999?

Focusing on Johnno (1975), An Imaginary Life (1978), and Remembering Babylon (1993), this chapter argues that David Malouf’s redeployment of the formal devices of the modernist novel enables a distinctively Australian representation of postcolonial modernity. It explores Malouf’s public and literary advocacy of “imaginative possession” as a means to achieve settler belonging and effect true reconciliation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians. Postcolonial critics, however, have accused Malouf of appropriating Aboriginal history and identity. This chapter argues that modernist investments within Malouf’s fiction enable imaginative possession but also yield enigma. Malouf’s use of Woolf and Faulkner’s shifts in narrative perspective, Proust’s manipulation of time and memory, Proust and Joyce’s reworking of the Bildungsroman, and the modernist intensification of lyrical subjectivity enables the tempering and attuning of settler selves to place. Yet in Johnno modernist resources unravel fixed truths, pointing instead to creative error and the fabrications of the self.

Australia’s first Migration Museum in Adelaide recognised from its inception in 1986, that representing migration history could not be done without acknowledging its intimate association with colonisation and the dispossession of indigenous people. Their first move therefore, was to create a distinction between all migrants, a category that included British ‘settlers’, and Indigenous Australians. This was significant not only because it implicated colonisation within migration history but because it made all non-Indigenous Australians migrants. The move though, was not easy to establish, largely because, in the public imagination, migrants were the other to mainstream or ‘British Australia’. In the mid-1990s, however, it seemed to work as Australia was indeed seen as a country that was relatively successful in integrating various waves of migration into its historical narratives while valuing cultural diversity and recognising the prior occupation of the land by Aboriginal people. The ‘War on terror’, the arrival of asylum seekers and the threat of internal terrorist attacks, along with changes in immigration policy and a general climate of fear has changed that, and migration museums are now working to combat a new wave of racism. To do so, I argue, they have developed a new set of curatorial strategies that aim to facilitate an exploration of the complexity of contemporary forms of identity. This chapter provides a history of the development of curatorial strategies that have helped to change the ways in which relations between ‘us and them’ have changed over the years in response to changes in the wider public discourse. My focus will be on both collecting and display practices, from changes to what is collected and how it is displayed, to the changing role of personal stories, the relationship between curators and the communities they work with, and the role of exhibition design in structuring the visitor experience.