Academic literature on the topic 'Aboriginal Australians Victoria Social conditions'

While there is strong evidence of the need for healthy ageing programs for older Aboriginal Australians, few are available. It is important to understand older Aboriginal Australians’ perspectives on healthy ageing in order to co-design culturally-appropriate programs, including views on technology use in this context. Semi-structured interviews were conducted with 34 Aboriginal Australians aged 50 years and older from regional and urban communities to explore participants’ health concerns, preferences for healthy ageing programs, and receptiveness to technology. Qualitative data were analyzed using a grounded theory approach. This study found that older Aboriginal Australians are concerned about chronic health conditions, social and emotional well-being, and difficulties accessing health services. A range of barriers and enablers to participation in current health programs were identified. From the perspective of older Aboriginal people, a successful healthy ageing program model includes physical and cognitive activities, social interaction, and health education. The program model also provides culturally safe care and transport for access as well as family, community, cultural identity, and empowerment regarding ageing well as central tenets. Technology could also be a viable approach for program delivery. These findings can be applied in the implementation and evaluation of culturally-appropriate, healthy ageing programs with older Aboriginal people.

ABSTRACTObjectives:Aboriginal Australians experience higher rates of non-communicable chronic disease, injury, dementia, and mortality than non-Aboriginal Australians. Self-reported health is a holistic measure and may fit well with Aboriginal views of health and well-being. This study aimed to identify predictors of self-reported health in older Aboriginal Australians and determine acceptable research methodologies for future aging research.Design:Longitudinal, population-based study.Setting:Five communities across New South Wales, Australia (two urban and three regional sites).Participants:Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people (n = 227; 60–88 years, M = 66.06, SD = 5.85; 145 female).Measurements:Participants completed baseline (demographic, medical, cognitive, mental health, and social factors) and follow-up assessments (self-reported health quantified with 5-point scale; sharing thoughts on areas important for future research). Predictors of self-reported health were examined using logistic regression analyses.Results:Self-reported health was associated with sex, activities of daily living, social activity participation, resilience, alcohol use, kidney problems, arthritis, falls, and recent hospitalization. Arthritis, kidney problems, and resilience remained significant in multiple logistic regression models.Conclusions:Perceived resilience and the absence of certain chronic age-related conditions predict older Aboriginal peoples’ self-reported health. Understanding these factors could inform interventions to improve well-being. Findings on acceptable research methodologies suggest that many older Aboriginal people would embrace a range of methodologies within long-standing research partnerships, which is an important consideration for Indigenous population research internationally.

SummaryThe variability of three behavioural risk factors for heart disease—heavy alcohol and tobacco consumption and physical inactivity—was assessed in an Australian Aboriginal community, where heart disease death rates were high. Prevalence levels were assessed by comparison with those experienced by all adult Australians and by evaluating whether Aboriginal rates were influenced by underlying sociodemographic conditions. Relative risk ratios, odds ratios and logistic regression analysis were used.A total of 159 males and 114 females participated. Compared to all Australians, Aborigines are significantly more likely to drink five or more drinks on a drinking day, to be current smokers, and not to participate in vigorous exercise. In the Aboriginal community, univariate analysis indicates that: the odds of being a heavy drinker are significantly higher for those in unsatisfactory health; odds of being a current smoker are significantly higher for those in unsatisfactory health or unemployed; odds of not participating in vigorous exercise are significantly higher for those in unsatisfactory health, unemployed or without secondary education. Multivariate analysis shows that risk of being a heavy drinker is independently associated with sex, age, and health status; risk of being a current smoker is associated with health and employment status. The risk of not participating in vigorous exercise is significantly related to all sociodemographic variables examined. Reasons for these associations are discussed.

Indigenous beliefs of Australia have attracted the attention of numerous generations of researchers of the XIX - XX centuries. The reasons for this interest were not limited by the exotic beliefs of the traditional beliefs of the distant region of the planet. Anthropologists, ethnographers, sociologists, historians and religious scholars, considering the preservation of one of the most archaic systems of economy and social organization among the tribes of Australia, respectively, considered the aboriginal beliefs as a spiritual result, reflecting the most archaic system of social relations, referring to them as a kind , "The standard of primordial religion." So, the Soviet researcher S. Tokarev notes that the beliefs of Australians are the most archaic religious phenomenon that has remained to this day and a classic, typical example of totemism.

Abstract Throughout the hominin lineage brain size is believed to have increased threefold – increase which, it is argued by some researchers, results in the enhanced brain power that distinguishes humans from any other living being. However, as we demonstrate in this article this supposed increase is the result of comparing the species mean of contemporary humans with other great apes and fossil hominins. This method obscures both interpopulational variation among modern humans, and the fact that the putative increases in the mean are the result of an increase in the upper limit in some populations, which has the result of obscuring the relative stasis in the lower limit over the last 600k years. For example, populations such as Aboriginal Australians have a range that is more different from Danes than it is from that of Asian H. erectus over the last 600ka. Yet Aboriginal Australians, whose unique anatomy seems to be related to the climatic conditions of Australia, possess all of the socio-cognitive traits characteristic of all other modern-day populations – yet they seemed not to have undergone increase in brain size to the degree that many other populations have. In this instance brain size seems to be unrelated to cognition. In this article we present a statistical analysis of interpopulational variation in contemporary humans and why such an analysis is crucial for our understanding of hominin cognitive, social and technological evolution. We also suggest how such variation may add to our understanding of hominin ontogeny or life history. Additionally, we develop a model based on humanity’s unique form of embodied social cognition that results from our upright bipedal posture and hand morphology. This model is then used to explain the results of our statistical analysis and the possible factors underpinning the human emergence.

Purpose – Aboriginal communities in Australia must have mapping information and technology to effectively and independently administer their land holdings and to define, evidence and thus protect their community and cultural identity. The purpose of this paper is to report on a pilot project that developed a customisable education programme to support Indigenous communities in the uptake of spatial mapping technologies to protect and manage cultural heritage in Victoria, Australia. Design/methodology/approach – A training programme to support Wadawurrung capabilities in spatial mapping technologies was developed, delivered and evaluated. Concurrently, the system's database was indigenised by Wadawurrung cultural heritage workers. Types and numbers of culturally significant sites mapped using the technologies were collated. The impact of the training and technologies for students and the Wadawurrung community was gauged through participation levels and evaluations. The approach to indigenous spatial mapping projects is informed by postcolonial theories interrogating neo-colonialist cartographic practices. Findings – Indigenous communities need to be resourced in the uptake of spatial mapping technologies and if universities are going to be involved in co-developing positive learning experiences that encourage the uptake of the technologies, they must have appropriate and respectful relationships with Aboriginal communities. Training programmes need to accommodate learners with diverse educational experiences and technological wherewithal. Research limitations/implications – Findings from the training evaluations are based on a small number of participants; however, they seem to be supported by literature. Practical implications – The education model developed is customisable for any Indigenous community in Australia. Social implications – The social and political importance of spatial mapping technologies for Indigenous Australians is evident as is the need for educational providers to have appropriate and respectful relationships with Aboriginal communities to co-develop positive learning experiences that encourage the uptake of the technologies. Originality/value – The Wadawurrung Dya Baap Ngobeeyt Cultural Heritage Mapping and Management Project developed practical strategies to build community capacity in Aboriginal Cultural Heritage Management and Protection. The educational programme developed supported learners to use technologies in cultural heritage management. Data were collected using community-developed fields for inclusion and culturally appropriate encryption of data.

‘Caring for country’ is a term used to describe the complex spiritual affiliation that encompasses the rights and responsibilities that Aboriginal Australians have with their land. It includes their custodial responsibilities for keeping the land healthy and its species abundant. This ontology and associated practice of ‘caring for country’ continues across large sections of the Northern Territory of Australia through customary practice and through the Indigenous Ranger Program. This Program has been described as a ‘two toolbox approach’, which combines traditional ecological knowledge with more conventional land management practice, to manage landscapes for their natural and cultural values. Since 2007 there have been several policy initiatives which have changed the dynamics in Aboriginal communities which in turn has affected the structure of the Indigenous Ranger Program. In response to the dire social conditions facing Aboriginal communities in the Northern Territory, the Commonwealth Government initiated the Northern Territory Emergency Response, which was a ‘top down’ approach with very little community engagement. At around the same time there was a shift in the way Indigenous Rangers jobs were funded. The unintended impact of this was a reduction in the number of Aboriginal people connected to the Ranger Program and potentially less input from culturally appropriate decision makers for land management. Another influencing policy change involved a shift in Commonwealth funding for land management from Natural Heritage Trust to Caring For Our Country funding. This new funding is more targeted and has changed the nature of the Ranger Program to being less ‘program based’ and more ‘outcome based’ by packaging many land management activities as ‘Fee for Service’ contracts. The transformation is taking place in a prescriptive manner. In this paper we advocate a more community-based approach which allows for greater community involvement in planning, decision making and governance.

Objective Out-of-pocket healthcare expenditure (OOPHE) has a significant impact on marginalised households. The purpose of this study was to modify a pre-existing OOPHE survey for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander households with children.Methods The OOPHE survey was derived through a scoping review, face and content validity, including judgement quantification with content experts. Exploratory factor analyses determined factor numbers for construct validity. Repeatability through test–retest processes and reliability was assessed through internal consistency.Results The OOPHE survey had 168 items and was piloted on 67 Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander parents. Construct validity assessment generated a 62-item correlation matrix with a three-factor model. Across these factors, item loadings varied, 10 items with high correlations (>0.70) and 20 with low correlations (Conclusion The low level of item loadings to factors in the OOPHE survey indicates interconnectedness across the three-factor model, and reliability results suggest systemic differences. Impeding factors may include cohort homogeneity and survey length. It is unknown how cultural and social nuances specific to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander households impacts on results. Further work is warranted.What is known about the topic? Out-of-pocket healthcare expenditure (OOPHE) are expenses not covered by universal taxpayer-funded health insurance. In elderly Australians or those with chronic conditions, OOPHE can cause substantial burden and financial hardship and, in the most extreme cases, induce bankruptcy. Despite higher hospital admissions and disease burden, little is known about how OOPHE impacts Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander families. Additionally, in Australia, no OOPHE survey tools have been appropriately assessed; this includes for use with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander families.What does this paper add? This pilot study modified a pre-existing Australian OOPHE survey for use with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander households with children. Knowledge interface methodology was used to bring together Indigenous knowledges with quantitative survey methods. This was critical to ensuring Indigenous knowledges were central to the overall pilot study across item creation, participant focus, outcome contextualisation, interpretation, and resetting dominant norms. Outcomes have demonstrated pertinent points for future work in this area, such as the complexities in developing robust, culturally safe and specific surveys, which reach ideal psychometric levels of validity and reliability for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities. Certainly, it raises questions for current and future research using surveys in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities, which are generic and not purpose-built.What are the implications for practitioners? We recommend that OOPHE surveys should be developed with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander families from the outset, so they can include important contextual factors for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander households.

It was always based on a teenage love story between the two kids. One is a sniffer and one is not. It was designed for Central Australia because we do write these kids off there. Not only in town, where the headlines for the newspapers every second day is about ‘the problem,’ ‘the teenager problem of kids wandering the streets’ and ‘why don’t we send them back to their communities’ and that sort of stuff. Then there’s the other side of it. Elders in Aboriginal communities have been taught that kids who sniff get brain damage, so as soon as they see a kid sniffing they think ‘well they’re rubbish now, they’re brain damaged.’ So the elders are writing these kids off as well, as in ‘they are brain damaged so they’re no use now, they’ll be in wheelchairs for the rest of their lives.’ This is not true, it’s just information for elders that hasn’t been given to them. That is the world I was working with. I wanted to show two incredibly beautiful children who have fought all their lives just to breathe and how incredibly strong they are and how we should be celebrating them and backing them up. I wanted to show that to Central Australia, and if the rest of Australia or the world get involved that’s fantastic. (Thornton in interview)Warwick Thornton’s 2009 film Samson and Delilah won the hearts of Australians as well as a bag of awards — and rightly so. It is a breathtaking film that, as review after review will tell you, is about the bravery, hopelessness, optimism and struggles of two Indigenous youths. In telling this story, the film extends, inverts and challenges notions of waste: wasted youths, wasted memory, wasted history, wasted opportunities, getting wasted and wasted voices. The narrative and the film as a cultural object raise questions about being discarded and “the inescapable fact that the experience of catastrophe in the past century can only be articulated from its remains, our history sifted from among these storied deposits.” (Neville and Villeneuve 2). The purpose of this paper is to examine reaction to the film, and where this reaction has positioned the film in Australian filmmaking history. In reading the reception of the film, I want to consider the film’s contribution to dialogical cultural representations by applying Marcia Langton’s idea of intersubjectivity.In his review, Sean Gorman argues thatThe main reason for the film’s importance is it enables white Australians who cannot be bothered reading books or engaging with Indigenous Australians in any way (other than watching them play football perhaps) the smallest sliver of a world that they have no idea about. The danger however in an engagement by settler society with a film like Samson and Delilah is that the potential shock of it may be too great, as the world which it portrays is, for many, an unknown Australia. Hence, for the settler filmgoer, the issues that the film discusses may be just too hard, too unreal, and their reaction will be limited to perhaps a brief bout of anger or astonishment followed by indifference. (81.1)It is this “engagement by settler society” that I wish to consider: how the voices that we hear speaking about the film are shifting attention from the ‘Other’ to more dialogical cultural representations, that is, non-Indigenous Australia’s emerging awareness of what has previously been wasted, discarded and positioned as valueless. I find Gorman’s surmise of white Australia’s shock with a world they know nothing about, and their potential power to return to a state of indifference about it, to be an interesting notion. Colonisation has created the world that Samson and Delilah live in, and the white community is as involved as the Indigenous one in the struggles of Samson and Delilah. If “settler” society is unaware, that unawareness comes from a history of non-Indigenous power that denies, excludes, and ignores. For this reason, Samson and Delilah is a dialogical cultural representation: it forces a space where the mainstream doesn’t just critique the Aborigine, but their own identity and involvement in the construction of that critique.Wasted VoicesWaste is a subjective notion. Items that some discard and perceive as valueless can be of importance to others, and then it also becomes a waste not to acknowledge or use that item. Rather than only focusing on the concept of “waste” as items or materials that are abandoned, I wish to consider the value in what is wasted. Centring my discussion of ‘waste’ on Thornton’s film provides the opportunity to view a wasteland of dispossession from another cultural and social perspective. Reaction to the film has constructed what could be perceived as an exceptional moment of engagement between Indigenous and non-Indigenous voices in dialogic intercultural dialogue. By revisiting early examples of ethnographic collaboration, and re-examining contemporary reactions to Samson and Delilah, I hope to forge a space for intervention in Australian film criticism that focuses on how ‘non-Aboriginality’ depends on ‘Aboriginality’ in a vast wasteland of colonial dispossession and appropriation.Many of the reviews of Thornton’s film (Buckmaster; Collins; Davis; Gorman; Hall; Isaac; Ravier; Redwood; Rennie; Simpson) pay attention to the emotional reaction of non-Indigenous viewers. Langton states that historically non-Indigenous audiences know ‘the Aborigine’ through non-Indigenous representations and monologues about Aboriginality: “In film, as in other media, there is a dense history of racist, distorted and often offensive representation of Aboriginal people” (24). The power to define has meant that ethnographic discourses in the early days of colonisation established their need to record Indigenous peoples, knowledges and traditions before they ‘wasted away.’ At the 1966 Round Table on Ethnographic Film in the Pacific Area, Stanley Hawes recounts how Ian Dunlop, an Australian documentary filmmaker, commented that “someone ought to film the aborigines of the Western Desert before it was too late. They had already almost all disappeared or gone to live on Mission stations” (69). This popular belief was one of the main motivations for research on Indigenous peoples and led to the notion of “smoothing the dying pillow,” which maintained that since Aborigines were a dying race, they should be allowed to all die out peacefully (Chandra-Shekeran 120). It was only the ‘real’ Aborigine that was valued: the mission Black, the urban Black, the assimilated Black, was a waste (Cowlishaw 108). These representations of Aboriginality depended on non-Indigenous people speaking about Aboriginality to non-Indigenous people. Yet, the impetus to speak, as well as what was being spoken about, and the knowledge being discussed and used, relied on Indigenous voices and presences. When Australia made its “important contribution to ethnographic films of its Aborigines” (McCarthy 81), it could not have done so without the involvement of Indigenous peoples. In her work on intersubjectivity, Langton describes “Aboriginality” as a “social thing” that is continually remade through dialogue, imagination, representation and interpretation. She describes three broad categories of Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal intersubjectivity: when Aboriginal people interact with other Aboriginal people; when non-Aboriginal people stereotype, iconise, and mythologise Aboriginal people without any Aboriginal contact; and when Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people engage in dialogue (81). Since W. Baldwin Spencer’s first ethnographic film, made between 1901 and 1912, which recorded the customs of the Aranda and neighbouring Central Australian tribes (McCarthy 80), the development of Australian cinema depended on these categories of intersubjectivity. While the success of Samson and Delilah could be interpreted as opening mainstream eyes to the waste that Indigenous communities have experienced since colonisation — wasted knowledge, wasted youths, wasted communities — it could also signify that what was once perceived by dominant non-Indigenous society as trash is now viewed as treasure. Much like the dot paintings which Delilah and her nana paint in exchange for a few bucks, and which the white man then sells for thousands of dollars, Aboriginal stories come to us out of context and filtered through appropriation and misinterpretation.Beyond its undeniable worth as a piece of top-notch filmmaking, Samson and Delilah’s value also resides in its ability to share with a wide audience, and in a language we can all understand, a largely untold story steeped in the painful truth of this country’s bloody history. (Ravier)In reading the many reviews of Samson and Delilah, it is apparent there is an underlying notion of such a story being secret, and that mainstream Australia chose to engage with the film’s dialogical representation because it was sharing this secret. When Ravier states that Aboriginal stories are distorted by appropriation and misinterpretation, I would add that such stories are examples of Langton’s second category of intersubjectivity: they reveal more about the processes of non-Indigenous constructions of ‘the Aborigine’ and the need to stereotype, iconise and mythologise. These processes have usually involved judgements about what is to be retained as ‘valuable’ in Indigenous cultures and knowledges, and what can be discarded — in the same way that the film’s characters Samson and Delilah are discarded. The secret that Samson and Delilah is sharing with white Australia has never been a secret: it is that non-Indigenous Australia chooses what it wants to see or hear. Wasted SilencesIn 1976 Michael Edols directed and produced Floating about the Mowanjum communities experiences of colonisation, mission life and resistance. That same year Alessandro Cavadini directed and Carolyn Strachan produced Protected, a dramatised documentary about life on the Queensland Aboriginal reserve of Palm Island — “a dumping ground for unwanted persons or those deemed to be in need of ‘protection’” (Treole 38). Phillip Noyce’s Backroads, a story about the hardships facing a young man from a reserve in outback New South Wales, was released in 1977. In 1979, Essie Coffey produced and directed My Survival as an Aboriginal, where she documented her community’s struggles living under white domination. Two Laws, a feature film made by four of the language groups around Borroloola in 1981, examines the communities’ histories of massacre, dispossession and institutionalisation. These are just some of many films that have dealt with the ‘secrets’ about Indigenous peoples. In more recent times the work of Noyce, Rolf de Heer, Stephen Johnson, Iven Sen, Rachel Perkins and Romaine Moreton, to name only a few, have inspired mainstream engagement with films representing Indigenous experiences and knowledges. “We live in a world in which, increasingly, people learn of their own and other cultures and histories through a range of visual media — film, television, and video,” writes Faye Ginsburg (5). Changing understandings of culture and representation means that there appears to be a shift away from the “monologic, observational and privileged Western gaze” towards more dialogic, reflexive and imaginative mediation. Perhaps Samson and Delilah’s success is partly due to its contribution to social action through compelling the non-Indigenous viewer to “revise our comfortable and taken for granted narrative conventions that fetishise the text and reify ‘culture’ and ‘cultural difference.’ Instead, we — as producers, audiences, and ethnographers — are challenged to comprehend the multiple ways that media operate as a site where culture is produced, contested, mediated and continually re-imagined” (Ginsburg 14). In his review, Tom Redwood writes about the filmLike life in the desert, everything is kept to a minimum here and nothing is wasted. ... Perhaps it took an Indigenous filmmaker from Alice Springs to do this, to lead the way in reinstating meaningfulness and honesty as core values in Australian cinema. But, whatever the case, Thornton's Indigenous heritage won't make his difficult vision any easier for local audiences to swallow. Most Australians aren't used to this degree of seriousness at the movies and though many here will embrace Samson and Delilah, there will no doubt also be a minority who, unable to reject the film as a cultural curiosity, will resist its uncompromising nature with cries of 'pessimism!' or even 'reverse-racism!’ (28-29)Perhaps the film’s success has to do with the way the story is told? — “everything kept to a minimum” and “nothing is wasted.” In attempts to construct Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal intersubjectivity in previous representations perhaps language, words, English got in the way of communication? For mainstream white Australian society’s engagement in dialogic representations, for Indigenous voices to speak and be heard, for non-Indigenous monologues to be challenged, perhaps silence was called for? As the reviews for the film have emphasised, non-Indigenous reactions contribute to the dialogic nature of the film, its story, as well as its positioning as a site of cultural meaning, social relations, and power. Yet even while critiquing constructions of Aboriginality, non-Aboriginality has historically remained uncritiqued—non-Aboriginal endorsement and reaction is discussed, but what this reaction and engagement, or lack of engagement (whether because of ignorance, unawareness, or racism) reveals is not. That is, non-Aboriginality has not had to critique the power it has to continue to remain ignorant of stories about wasted Indigenous lives. Thornton’s film appears to have disrupted this form of non-engagement.With the emergence of Indigenous media and Indigenous media makers, ethnographic films have been reconceptualised in terms of aesthetics, cultural observations and epistemological processes. By re-exploring the history of ethnographic film making and shifting attention from constructions of the ‘other’ to reception by the mainstream, past films, past representations of colonisation, and past dialogues will not be wasted. With the focus on constructing Aboriginality, the cultural value of non-Aboriginality has remained unquestioned and invisible. By re-examining the reactions of mainstream Australians over the last one hundred years in light of the success of Samson and Delilah, cultural and historical questions about ‘the Aborigine’ can be reframed so that the influence Indigenous discourses have in Australian nation-building will be more apparent. The reception of Samson and Delilah signifies the transformational power in wasted voices, wasted dialogues and the wasted opportunities to listen. Wasted DialoguesFelicity Collins argues that certain “cinematic events that address Indigenous-settler relations do have the capacity to galvanise public attention, under certain conditions” (65). Collins states that after recent historical events, mainstream response to Aboriginal deprivation and otherness has evoked greater awareness of “anti-colonial politics of subjectivity” (65). The concern here is with mainstream Australia dismantling generations of colonialist representations and objectifications of the ‘other.’ What also needs to be re-examined is the paradox and polemic of how reaction to Aboriginal dispossession and deprivation is perceived. Non-Indigenous reaction remains a powerful framework for understanding, viewing and positioning Indigenous presence and representation — the power to see or not to see, to hear or to ignore. Collins argues that Samson and Delilah, along with Australia (Luhrmann, 2009) and First Australians (Perkins, 2008), are national events in Australian screen culture and that post-apology films “reframe a familiar iconography so that what is lost or ignored in the incessant flow of media temporality is precisely what invites an affective and ethical response in cinematic spaces” (75).It is the notion of reframing what is lost or ignored to evoke “ethical responses” that captures my attention; to shift the gaze from Aboriginal subjectivity, momentarily, to non-Aboriginal subjectivity and examine how choosing to discard or ignore narratives of violence and suffering needs to be critiqued as much as the film, documentary or representation of Indigenality. Perhaps then we can start to engage in dialogues of intersubjectivity rather than monologues about Aboriginality.I made [Samson and Delilah] for my mob but I made sure that it can work with a wider audience as well, and it’s just been incredible that it’s been completely embraced by a much wider audience. It’s interesting because as soon as you knock down that black wall between Aboriginals and white Australia, a film like this does become an Australian film and an Australian story. Not an Aboriginal story but a story about Australians, in a sense. It’s just as much a white story as it is a black one when you get to that position. (Thornton in interview)When we “get to that position” described by Thornton, intercultural and intersubjective dialogue allows both Aboriginality and non-Aboriginality to co-exist. When a powerful story of Indigenous experiences and representations becomes perceived as an Australian story, it provides a space for what has historically been ignored and rendered invisible to become visible. It offers a different cultural lens for all Australians to question and critique notions of value and waste, to re-assess what had been relegated to the wasteland by ethnographic editing and Westernised labels. Ever since Spencer, Melies, Abbie and Elkin decided to retain an image of Aboriginality on film, which they did with specific purposes and embedded values, it has been ‘the Aborigine’ that has been dissected and discussed. It would be a waste not to open this historiography up to include mainstream reaction, or lack of reaction, in the development of cultural and cinematic critique. A wasteland is often perceived as a dumping ground, but by re-visiting that space and unearthing, new possibilities are discovered in that wasteland, and more complex strategies for intersubjectivity are produced. At the centre of Samson and Delilah is the poverty and loss that Indigenous communities experience on a daily basis. The experiences endured by the main characters are not new or recent ones and whether cinematic reception of them produces guilt, pity, sympathy, empathy, fear or defensiveness, it is the very potential to be able to react that needs to be critiqued. As Williamson Chang points out, the “wasteland paradigm is invisible to those embedded in its structure” (852). By looking more closely at white society’s responses in order to discern more clearly if they are motivated by feelings that their wealth—whether material, cultural or social—or their sense of belonging is being challenged or reinforced then ruling values and epistemologies are challenged and dialogic negotiations engaged. If dominant non-Indigenous society has the power to classify Indigenous narratives and representation as either garbage or something of value, then colonialist structures remain intact. If they have the self-reflexive power to question their own response to Indigenous narratives and representations, then perhaps more anti-colonial discourses emerge. Notions of value and waste are tied to cultural hierarchies, and it is through questioning how a dominant culture determines value that processes of transformation and mediation take place and the intersubjective dialogue sparked by Samson and Delilah can continueIn her review of Samson and Delilah, Therese Davis suggests that the film brings people closer to truthfulness, forcing the audience to engage with that realism: “those of us ‘outside’ of the community looking in can come to know ourselves differently through the new languages of this film, both cultural and cinematic. Reformulating the space of the national from an ‘insider,’ Aboriginal community-based perspective, the film positions its spectators, both Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal, in a shared space, a space that allows for new forms of attachment, involvement and self-knowledge, new lines of communication.” Davis goes on to caution that while the film is groundbreaking, the reviews situating the film as what Australian cinema should be need to be mindful of feeding “notions of anti-diversity, which “is an old debate in Australian Cinema Studies, but in this instance anti-diversity is doubly problematic because it also runs the risk of narrowly defining Indigenous cinema.” The danger, historically, is that anything Indigenous, has always been narrowly defined by the mainstream and yes, to continue to limit Indigenous work in any medium is colonising and problematic. However, rather than just caution against this reaction, I am suggesting that reaction itself be critiqued. While currently contemporary mainstream response to Samson and Delilah is one of adoration, is the centre from which it comes the same centre which less than fifty years ago critiqued Indigenous Australians as a savage, noble, and/or dying race wasting away? Davis writes that the film constructs a new “relation” in Australian cinema but that it should not be used as a marker against which “all new (and old) Indigenous cinema is measured.” This concern resembles, in part, my concern that until recently mainstream society has constructed their own markers of Aboriginal cultural authenticity, deciding what is to be valued and what can be discarded. I agree with Davis’s caution, yet I cannot easily untangle the notion of ‘measuring.’ As a profound Australian film, certainly cinematic criticism will use it as a signifier of ‘quality.’ But by locating it singularly in the category of Indigenous cinema, the anti-colonial and discursive Indigenous discourses the film deploys and evokes are limited to the margins of Australian film and film critique once more. After considering the idea of measuring, and asking who would be conducting this process of measuring, my fear is that the gaze returns to ‘the Aborigine’ and the power to react remains solely, and invisibly, with the mainstream. Certainly it would be a waste to position the film in such a way that limits other Indigenous filmmakers’ processes, experiences and representations. I see no problem with forcing non-Indigenous filmmakers, audiences and perceptions to have to ‘measure’ up as a result of the film. It would be yet another waste if they didn’t, and Samson and Delilah was relegated to being simply a great ‘Indigenous Australian film,’ instead of a great Australian film that challenges, inverts and re-negotiates the construction of both Aboriginality and non-Aboriginality. By examining reaction to the film, and not just reading the film itself, discussions of dialogical cultural representation can include non-Aboriginality as well as Aboriginality. Films like this are designed to create a dialogue and I’m happy if someone doesn’t like the film and they tell me why, because we’re creating dialogue. We’re talking about this stuff and taking a step forward. That’s important. (Thornton)The dialogue opened up by the success of Thornton’s beautiful film is one that also explores non-Aboriginality. If we waste the opportunity that Samson and Delilah provides, then Australia’s ongoing cinematic history will remain a wasteland, and many more Indigenous voices, stories, and experiences will continue to be wasted.ReferencesBuckmaster, Luke. “Interview with Warwick Thornton”. Cinetology 12 May 2009. 18 Aug. 2010 ‹http://blogs.crikey.com.au/cinetology/2009/05/12/interview-with-warwick-thornton-writerdirector-of-samson-delilah›.———. “Samson and Delilah Review: A Seminal Indigenous Drama of Gradual and Menacing Beauty”. Cinetology 6 May 2009. 14 June 2010 ‹http://blogs.crikey.com.au/cinetology/2009/05/06/samson-delilah-film-review-a-seminal-indigenous-drama-of-gradual-and-menacing-beauty›.Chang, Williamson, B. C. “The ‘Wasteland’ in the Western Exploitation of ‘Race’ and the Environment”. University of Colorado Law Review 849 (1992): 849-870.Chandra-Shekeran, Sangeetha. “Challenging the Fiction of the Nation in the ‘Reconciliation’ Texts of Mabo and Bringing Them Home”. The Australian Feminist Law Journal 11 (1998): 107-133.Collins, Felicity. “After the Apology: Reframing Violence and Suffering in First Australians, Australia and Samson and Delilah”. Continuum: Journal of Media and Cultural Studies 24.3 (2010): 65-77.Cowlishaw, Gillian, K. “Censoring Race in ‘Post-Colonial’ Anthropology”. Critique of Anthropology 20.2 (2000): 101-123. Davis, Therese. “Love and Marginality in Samson and Delilah”. Senses of Cinema 57 (2009). 7 Jan. 2010 ‹http://archive.sensesofcinema.com/contents/09/51/samson-and-delilah.html›. Ginsburg, Faye. “Culture/Media: A (Mild) Polemic”. Anthropology Today 10.2 (1994): 5-15.Gorman, Sean. “Review of Samson and Delilah”. History Australia 6.3 (2009): 81.1-81.2.Hall, Sandra. “Review of Samson and Delilah”. Sydney Morning Herald. 7 May 2009. Hawes, Stanley. “Official Government Production”. Round Table on Ethnographic Film in the Pacific Area. Canberra: Australian National Advisory Committee, 1966. 62-71.Isaac, Bruce. “Screening ‘Australia’: Samson and Delilah”. Screen Education 54 (2009): 12-17. Langton, Marcia. Well, I Heard It on the Radio and I Saw It on the Television...: An Essay for the Australian Film Commission on the Politics and Aesthetics of Filmmaking by and about Aboriginal People and Things. Sydney: Australian Film Commission, 1993.McCarthy, F. D “Ethnographic Research Films” Round Table on Ethnographic Film in the Pacific Area Australian National Advisory Committee (1966): 80-85.Neville, Brian, and Johanne Villeneuve. Waste-Site Stories: The Recycling of Memory. Albany: State U of New York P., 2002.Ravier, Matt. “Review: Samson and Delilah”. In Film Australia. 2009. 7 Jan. 2010 ‹http://www.infilm.com.au/?p=802›.Redwood, Tom. “Warwick Thornton and Kath Shelper on Making Samson and Delilah”. Metro 160 (2009): 31.Rennie, Ellie. “Samson and Delilah under the Stars in Alice Springs”. Crikey 27 Apr. 2009. 18 Aug. 2010 ‹ http://www.crikey.com.au/2009/04/27/samson-and-delilah-under-the-stars-in-alice-springs/›.Samson and Delilah. Dir. Warwick Thornton. Footprint Films, 2009. Treole, Victoria. Australian Independent Film. Sydney: Australian Film Commission, 1982.

Aboriginal people in central and northern Australia for the past 20 years have been moving away from Aboriginal towns and fringe camps to establish outstations, or homelands centres: small, isolated communities of close kin and family living on traditional lands. The outstation movement, as the phenomenon has become known, is an attempt to preserve and revive the cultural practices and institutions which give Aboriginal society a sense of resilience. Outstations promote ~ltural identification, social cohesion and community well-being. They are important means of arresting and reversing the social and community crisis which Aboriginal people in the region have been experiencing for more than 100 years, particularly in the last 40 years. The outstation movement is a vehicle for Aboriginal empowerment. It is a,n attempt to recapture control over life, land and society. It is one of the many spontaneous expressions of Aboriginality in Australia today. Aboriginality is an assertion of Aboriginal identity and worth. v.Vhat is the significance of the outstation movement? Is it a form of political action or separatism? Perhaps it is nothing more than a series of desperate attempts by communities to escape a situation of extreme crisis. Or does it constitute something more coordinated and meaningful? What are the goals of outstation aspirants? Can such goals be achieved? Essentially, the outstation movement is about Aboriginal people striving to take control of their own lives. What is the nature of that empowerment?

The study is concerned with the history of black and white women in Australia during the colonial period. Particular emphasis is on the variety of cross-cultural relationships which developed between women during that time. As a starting point, male frontier violence is discussed and compared with the more moderate approach taken by women faced with threatening situations. Among Europeans, women are revealed as being generally less racist than men. This was a significant factor in their ability to forge bonds with black women and occasionally with black men. The way in which contacts with Aborigines were made is explored and the impact of them on the women concerned is assessed, as far as possible from both points of view. Until now, these experiences have been omitted from colonial history, yet I believe they were an important element in racial relations. It will be seen that some of these associations were warm, friendly and satisfying to both sides, and often included a good deal of mutual assistance. Others involved degrees of exploitation. Both are examined in detail, using a variety of sources which include the works of modern Aboriginal writers. This study presents a new aspect of the female experiences which was neglected until the emergence of the feminist historians in the 1960’s. It properly places women, both black and white, within Australian colonial history.

The hypothesis central to this study is that distinctly Aboriginal patterns of relationship between humans and dogs are still evident in contemporary Aboriginal groups. The relationship's sociological characteristics in traditional and contemporary settings and its implications for canine and human health are also investigated. Field research employing survey, quantitative observation and specimen analysis techniques was conducted in 9 Western Australian Aboriginal groups of various backgrounds and settings. Results were compared to historic-traditional accounts and dog ownership studies in non-Aboriginal groups. Traditionally dogs served Aboriginals most importantly for supernatural protection and to assist the collection of small game by women. In non-isolated groups, traditional utilitarian motives were superseded by the Western concept of dogs as companions. Demographically, the Aboriginal dog populations surveyed were relatively large, and most dogs were classified as medium sized non-descript cross-breds. Dogs were more commonly owned by adult and aged individuals, rather than by family units as is the Western cultural norm. Most dogs remained with their original owner and retained their original name for life. Traditional values of respect towards dogs were compromised to the discriminatory care of higher status animals only, effecting selection pressure against undesirable dogs, particularly females. Similarly, while many aged people were opposed to culling, most respondents regarded community pup production as excessive and accepted culling as necessary. Nevertheless prevention was the preferred option, with strong support for the previously unfamiliar concept of ovariohysterectomy. Pups were raised in some respects like children in the traditional manner, indulgence giving way in adulthood to expectations of self-reliance rather than obedience. Most dogs were in good physical and psychological condition, though more likely to be afflicted by sarcoptic mange than other Australian dogs. Other parasites occurred at or below expected frequencies. Close physical contact with dogs coupled with favourable microclimates allowed ample opportunity for transmission of canine zoonoses, but the actual risk to human health remains poorly documented.

Thesis (PhD)--Macquarie University, Division of Society, Culture, Media & Philosophy, Department of Anthropology, 2006.
Bibliography: p. 257-276.
Introduction: coming to Wilcannia -- Wilcannia: plenty of Aborigines, but no culture -- Who you is? -- Cultural values: ambivalences and ambiguities -- Praise, success and opportunity -- "Art an' culture: the two main things, right?" -- Big Murray Butcher: "We still doin' it" -- Granny Moisey's baby: the art of Badger Bates -- Epilogue.
Dominant society discourses and images have long depicted the Aboriginal people of the town of Wilcannia in far Western New South Wales as having no 'culture'. In asking what this means and how this situation might have come about, the thesis seeks to respond through an ethnographic exploration of these discourses and images. The work explores problematic and polemic dominant society assumptions regarding 'culture' and 'Aboriginal culture', their synonyms and their effects. The work offers Aboriginal counter-discourses to the claim of most white locals and dominant culture that the Aboriginal people of Wilcannia have no culture. In so doing the work presents reflexive notions about 'culture' as verbalised and practiced, as well as providing an ethnography of how culture is more tacitly lived. -- Broadly, the thesis looks at what it is to be Aboriginal in Wilcannia from both white and black perspectives. The overarching concern of this thesis is a desire to unpack what it means to be black in Wilcannia. The thesis is primarily about the competing values and points of view within and between cultures, the ways in which Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people tacitly and reflexively express and interpret difference, and the ambivalence and ambiguity that come to bear in these interactions and experiences. This thesis demonstrates how ideas and actions pertaining to 'race' and 'culture' operate in tandem through an exploration of values and practices relating to 'work', 'productivity', 'success', 'opportunity' and the domain of 'art'. These themes are used as vehicles to understanding the 'on the ground' effects and affects of cultural perceptions and difference. They serve also to demonstrate the ambiguity and ambivalence that is experienced as well as being brought to bear upon relationships which implicitly and explicitly are concerned with, and concern themselves with difference.
Mode of access: World Wide Web.
xii, 276 p. ill

This thesis investigates the social and racial dynamics of life in the West Kimberley between 1944 and 1969. It identifies three groups defined by their racial characteristics which co-existed on the land: full-descent, mixed-descent and Gudia. It argues that despite many people in these different groups being related to each other, their lives followed different trajectories as a result of government policies and laws which defined people by their degree of Aboriginality. These racial categories were reflected in the social and economic relations of full-descent, mixed descent and Gudia people. Coexistence of these groups is analysed by focusing on one extended mixed-descent 'Nygkina' family. During the 1940s, 50s. and 60s, the children of Fulgentius and Phillipena Fraser left their mission haven and entered the world of employment under Gudia management. In 1944, a young 21 year old Spaniard, Francisco Casanova-Rodriguez, ventured to the Kimberley to work as a station hand. Rodriguez crossed paths with the Frasers in 1946 and he married their eldest daughter, Katie, in December of that year. He was accepted into the mixed-descent family, where kindred relationships deepened by virtue of mutual religious belief systems, amidst a life of discrimination and financial hardships. Rodriguez and Katie were devout Catholics and that became the strength of their relationship. An insight into this family's coexistence with Gudia during the twentieth century is extracted from Rodriguez's diaries, oral histories collected from the Fraser family and associates, and from government archival files. With their mission training the Fraser children became subservient employees to Gudia pastoralists and town business people. Rodriguez taught himself his trade as a builder,-and he, too, worked for pastoralists in an industry that was expected to flourish. But the certainty of a profitable sheep industry never eventuated, and by the early 1970s there were no sheep stations operating in the region. Neither were there many Aboriginal people living and working on the stations. Most had relocated to the towns. Full-descent people lived on reserves, while both mixed-descent and Gudia people lived either in their own homes, or in Housing Commission houses.

As an imagined space of suburban normalcy, Weipa North, far north Queensland, is in a transition of governance, from a Comalco controlled space to a local government entity. 'Normalisation1 of the 'company town' is revealed as a mechanism of regulation, excluding the local Aboriginal community of Napranum which is constructed as Weipa North's 'other'. This thesis focuses on the process of normalising' Weipa North through the experience of young Aboriginal people, and argues that normalisation' of Weipa North will not lead to Aboriginal reconciliation within the Weipa area. Marginalisation of young Aboriginal people's concerns and aspirations surrounding issues of 'normalisation', it is argued, undermines the potential for reconciliation where Comalco assumes connections to country and culture are irrelevant to young Aboriginal people

Over the two centuries since the arrival of European settlers in Australia, the material culture and lifestyle of the indigenous Aboriginal people of Australia has undergone dramatic change. Based on qualitative fieldwork in three remote Aboriginal communities in north-western Australia, this study examines the emergence of unique consumer cultures that appear to differ significantly from mainstream Australia and indeed from other societies. The study finds that the impact of non-indigenous goods and external cultural values upon these communities has been significant. However, although anthropologists feared some fifty years ago that Aboriginal cultural values and traditions had been destroyed, this study concludes that they are still powerful moderating forces in each of the communities studied. The most powerful are non-possessiveness, immediacy in consumption, and a strong sharing ethos. Unlike findings in the so-called Second and Third Worlds, these Fourth World consumer cultures have not developed an unquenchable desire for manufactured consumer goods. Instead, non-traditional consumption practices have been modified by tradition oriented practices. The consumer cultures that have emerged through a synthesis of global and local values and practices have involved Aboriginal adoption, adaption and resistance practices. This process has resulted in both positive and negative impacts on the Aboriginal people of these communities. Ways of dealing with the negative effects have been suggested, while the positive effects have been highlighted as examples of what can possibly be learned from Aboriginal culture. The study also finds differences between the emerging consumer cultures of each community, concluding that this can be attributed to historical and cultural differences. The main conclusion is that the development of a global consumer culture is by no means inevitable.

"December 2006".
Thesis (PhD) -- Macquarie University, Division of Environmental and Life Sciences, Department of Human Geography, 2007.
Bibliography: p. 284-307.
Introduction -- Case-study area profile and methodology -- A walkabout race?: contemporary Aboriginal mobilities in Yamatji country -- State service provision and Aboriginal mobilities -- Security and belonging: re-conceptualising Aboriginal mobilities -- Security and belonging and the mainstream economy -- The ties that bind: negotiating security and belonging through family -- Conclusion.
This dissertation explores contemporary Aboriginal spatial practices in Yamatji country, Western Australia, within the context of rural service provision by the State government. The central themes with which it engages are a) historical and contemporary conceptualisations of Aboriginal spatialities; b) the lived experiences of Aboriginal mobilities in the region; and c) the dialectical, and often contentious, relationship between Aboriginal spatial practices and public health, housing, and education services. Drawing primarily on a range of field interviews, the thesis opens up a discursive space for examining the cultural content and hidden assumptions in constructions of 'appropriate' models of spatial mobility. In taking a policy-oriented focus, it argues that the appropriate provision of basic government services requires a shift away from overly simplistic assumptions and discourses of Aboriginal mobility. Until the often subtle practices of rendering particular Aboriginal mobilities as irrational, deviant, and/or mysterious are challenged and replaced, deep-colonising practices in rural and remote Australia will persist. --The thesis reconceptualises contemporary Aboriginal spatial practices in Yamatji country based upon an examination of dynamics and circumstances that undergird Aboriginal mobilities in the region. With this empirical focus, it argues that Aboriginal spatial practices are fashioned by the processes of procuring, cultivating and contesting a sense of security and belonging. Case study material presented suggests that two primary considerations inform these processes. A post-settlement history of contested alienation from family and country (both sources from which belonging and security were traditionally derived), and a changing engagement with mainstream social and economic institutions, have produced a context in which security and belonging are iteratively derived from a number of sources. Contemporary Aboriginal spatial practices therefore take a complex variety of forms. The thesis concludes that adopting the framework of security and belonging for interpreting contemporary Aboriginal mobilities provides a starting point for engaging more effectively and intentionally with dynamic Aboriginal spatial practices in service delivery policy and practice.
Mode of access: World Wide Web.
x, 320 p. ill., maps

Bibliography: leaves 64-66. Argues that the sustainable lifestyle of traditional Aboriginal communities acheived the teleological harmony suggested as a possible conceptual framework for the emerging area of study known as ecological economics.