Articoli di riviste sul tema "Aboriginal Australians in mass media"

While Tatz (1980) has argued that ‘the only true and constant ally of the black people of Australia is the media, particularly ABC radio and television and the major daily newspapers’(14), Aborigines themselves have been less laudatory. Macumba & Batty (1980), Gilbert (1973) and Perkins (1975) have all stated that the exclusion of Aboriginals in the media was a glaringly obvious fact of daily life, and perceived the media as a force for the destruction of Aboriginal culture. Bobbi Sykes' evaluation of the Australian media as ‘completely white-controlled, information about what blacks in this country are suffering is completely suppressed’ (Gilbert, 1973:112–113) parallels minority perceptions of the media discerned by the Kerner Commission (1968). Charged to determine the effect of the mass media on the riots in a number of American cities, the Kerner Commission (1968:362–389) gave prominence in its findings to the fact that most Negroes perceived the media as instruments of the white power structure, that the news was presented from a white perspective, and criticised the media for their failure to report adequately on the causes and consequences of the civil disorders and the underlying problems of race relations.

Many policy interventions have attempted to address the entrenched disadvantage of Aboriginal Australians1; however, sustained improvement in social, cultural, physical, and emotional well-being is not evident. This disadvantage is compounded by paternalistic practices which do not promote Aboriginal self-determination or empowerment. This article presents the lived experience and voice of Aboriginal Australians spending time in parks in Perth, Western Australia. A community-based participatory action research approach informed by critical Indigenous methodologies involving collaboration between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal service providers was used. Participants experienced disconnection from kin and country, serious risk to personal safety, homelessness, and problematic health; all related to, and intersecting with, time spent in the parks. The participants’ narratives highlight the enduring impacts of colonization, dispossession, and racism. These lived experiences are situated within contexts of rising moral panic from politicians, residents and mass media, and siloed policy and service delivery responses.

AbstractDespite the enormous potential of social media for health promotion, there is an inadequate evidence base for how they can be used effectively to influence behaviour. In Australia, research suggests social media use is higher among Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people than the general Australian population; however, health promoters need a better understanding of who uses technologies, how and why. This qualitative study investigates what types of health content are being shared among Aboriginal and Torres Strait people through social media networks, as well as how people engage with, and are influenced by, health-related information in their offline life. We present six social media user typologies together with an overview of health content that generated significant interaction. Content ranged from typical health-related issues such as mental health, diet, alcohol, smoking and exercise, through to a range of broader social determinants of health. Social media-based health promotion approaches that build on the social capital generated by supportive online environments may be more likely to generate greater traction than confronting and emotion-inducing approaches used in mass media campaigns for some health topics.

ObjectivesIndigenous Australians are born smaller than non-Indigenous Australians and are at an increased risk of early onset of frailty. This study aimed to identify the relationship between birth size, current size and grip strength, as an early marker of frailty, in Indigenous and non-Indigenous young adults.DesignCross sectional data from two longitudinal studies: Aboriginal birth cohort (Indigenous) and top end cohort (non-Indigenous).SettingParticipants reside in over 40 urban and remote communities across the Northern Territory, Australia.ParticipantsYoung adults with median age 25 years (IQR 24–26); 427 participants (55% women), 267 (63%) were remote Indigenous, 55 (13%) urban Indigenous and 105 (25%) urban non-Indigenous.Outcome measuresReliable birth data were available. Anthropometric data (height, weight, lean mass) and grip strength were directly collected using standardised methods. Current residence was classified as urban or remote.ResultsThe rate of low birthweight (LBW) in the non-Indigenous cohort (9%) was significantly lower than the Indigenous cohort (16%) (−7%, 95% CI −14 to 0, p=0.03). Indigenous participants had lower grip strength than non-Indigenous (women, −2.08, 95% CI −3.61 to –0.55, p=0.008 and men, −6.2, 95% CI −9.84 to –2.46, p=0.001). Birth weight (BW) was associated with grip strength after adjusting for demographic factors for both women (β=1.29, 95% CI 0.41 to 2.16, p=0.004) and men (β=3.95, 95% CI 2.38 to 5.51, p<0.001). When current size (lean mass and body mass index [BMI]) was introduced to the model BW was no longer a significant factor. Lean mass was a positive indicator for grip strength, and BMI a negative indicator.ConclusionsAs expected women had significantly lower grip strength than men. Current size, in particular lean mass, was the strongest predictor of adult grip strength in this cohort. BW may have an indirect effect on later grip strength via moderation of lean mass development, especially through adolescence and young adulthood.

Rates of cardiovascular and renal disease in Australian Aboriginal communities are high, but we do not know the contribution of inflammation to these diseases in this setting. In the present study, we sought to examine the distribution of C-reactive protein (CRP) and other markers of inflammation and their relationships with cardiovascular risk markers and renal disease in a remote Australian Aboriginal community. The study included 237 adults (58% of the adult population) in a remote Aboriginal community in the Northern Territory of Australia. Main outcome measures were CRP, fibrinogen and IgG concentrations, blood pressure (BP), presence of diabetes, lipids, albuminuria, seropositivity to three common micro-organisms, as well as carotid intima-media thickness (IMT). Serum concentrations of CRP [7 (5–13) mg/l; median (inter-quartile range)] were markedly increased and were significantly correlated with fibrinogen and IgG concentrations and inversely correlated with serum albumin concentration. Higher CRP concentrations were associated with IgG seropositivity to Helicobacter pylori and Chlamydia pneumoniae and higher IgG titre for cytomegalovirus. Higher CRP concentrations were associated with the following: the 45–54-year age group, female subjects, the presence of skin sores, higher body mass index, waist circumference, BP, glycated haemoglobin and greater albuminuria. CRP concentrations increased with the number of cardiovascular risk factors, carotid IMT and albuminuria independently of other risk factors. These CRP concentrations were markedly higher than described in other community settings and are probably related, in a large part, to chronic and repeated infections. Their association with markers of cardiovascular risk and renal disease are compatible with the high rates of cardiovascular and renal disease in this community, and provide more evidence of strong links between these conditions, through a shared background of infection/inflammation. This suggests that a strong focus on prevention and management of infections will be important in reducing these conditions, in addition to interventions directed at more traditional risk factors.

Purpose – There is an increasing interest in using information and communication technologies to support health services. But the adoption and development of even basic ICT communications services in many health services is limited, leaving enormous gaps in the broad understanding of its role in health care delivery. The purpose of this paper is to address a specific (intercultural) area of healthcare communications consumer disadvantage; and it examines the potential for ICT exploitation through the lens of a conceptual framework. The opportunity to pursue a new solutions pathway has been amplified in recent times through the development of computer-based ontologies and the resultant knowledge from ontologist activity and consequential research publishing. Design/methodology/approach – A specific intercultural area of patient disadvantage arises from variations in meaning and understanding of patient and clinician words, phrases and non-verbal expression. Collection and localization of data concepts, their attributes and individual instances were gathered from an Aboriginal trainee nurse focus group and from a qualitative gap analysis (QGA) of 130 criteria-selected sources of literature. These concepts, their relationships and semantic interpretations populate the computer ontology. The ontology mapping involves two domains, namely, Aboriginal English (AE) and Type II diabetes care guidelines. This is preparatory to development of the Patient Practitioner Assistive Communications (PPAC) system for Aboriginal rural and remote patient primary care. Findings – The combined QGA and focus group output reported has served to illustrate the call for three important drivers of change. First, there is no evidence to contradict the hypothesis that patient-practitioner interview encounters for many Australian Aboriginal patients and wellbeing outcomes are unsatisfactory at best. Second, there is a potent need for cultural competence knowledge and practice uptake on the part of health care providers; and third, the key contributory component to determine success or failures within healthcare for ethnic minorities is communication. Communication, however, can only be of value in health care if in practice it supports shared cognition; and mutual cognition is rarely achievable when biopsychosocial and other cultural worldview differences go unchallenged. Research limitations/implications – There has been no direct engagement with remote Aboriginal communities in this work to date. The authors have initially been able to rely upon a cohort of both Indigenous and non-Indigenous people with relevant cultural expertise and extended family relationships. Among these advisers are health care practitioners, academics, trainers, Aboriginal education researchers and workshop attendees. It must therefore be acknowledged that as is the case with the QGA, the majority of the concept data is from third parties. The authors have also discovered that urban influences and cultural sensitivities tend to reduce the extent of, and opportunity to, witness AE usage, thereby limiting the ability to capture more examples of code-switching. Although the PPAC system concept is qualitatively well developed, pending future work planned for rural and remote community engagement the authors presently regard the work as mostly allied to a hypothesis on ontology-driven communications. The concept data population of the AE home talk/health talk ontology has not yet reached a quantitative critical mass to justify application design model engineering and real-world testing. Originality/value – Computer ontologies avail us of the opportunity to use assistive communications technology applications as a dynamic support system to elevate the pragmatic experience of health care consultations for both patients and practitioners. The human-machine interactive development and use of such applications is required just to keep pace with increasing demand for healthcare and the growing health knowledge transfer environment. In an age when the worldwide web, communications devices and social media avail us of opportunities to confront the barriers described the authors have begun the first construction of a merged schema for two domains that already have a seemingly intractable negative connection. Through the ontology discipline of building syntactically and semantically robust and accessible concepts; explicit conceptual relationships; and annotative context-oriented guidance; the authors are working towards addressing health literacy and wellbeing outcome deficiencies of benefit to the broader communities of disadvantage patients.

AbstractIntroduction: Aboriginal People have inhabited the Australian continent since the beginning of time, but archaeologists and anthropologist’s state there is evidence for approx. 51,000 to 71,000 years of continual habitation. During this time, the Australian continent has experienced many environmental and climatic changes i.e. fluctuating temperatures, ice ages, fluctuating CO2 levels, extremely high dust levels, high ice volume, high winds, large scale bush fires, glacial movement, low rain fall, extreme arid conditions, limited plant growth, evaporation of fresh water lakes, and dramatic sea level fluctuations, which have contributed to mass animal extinction.Method: The skeletal remains of Aboriginal Australians were examined for evidence of bone spurring at the calcaneus, which may be indicative of fast running which would assist survival. The skull and mandible bones were examined for signs evolutional traits related to survival. Aboriginal culture, knowledge of medical treatment and traditional medicines were also investigated. Discussion: Oral story telling of factual events, past down unchanged for millennia contributed to survival. Aboriginal Australians had to seek refuge, and abandon 80% of the continent. Physical ability and athleticism was paramount to survival. There is evidence of cannibalism by many Aboriginal Australian tribes contributing to survival. The Kaurna People exhibited evolutionary facial features that would have assisted survival. Kaurna People had excellent knowledge of medicine and the capacity to heal their community members.Conclusion: The Australian continent has experienced many environmental and climatic changes over the millennia. Navigating these extremely harsh, rapidly changing conditions is an incredible story of survival of Aboriginal Australians. The findings of this investigation suggest that Aboriginal Australians survival methods were complex and multi-faceted. Although this paper could not examine every survival method, perhaps Aboriginal Peoples knowledge of flora and fauna, for nourishment and medicine, was paramount to their survival.

Media has a huge impact on the perception of particular information. Sometimes, the average person’s knowledge about the world is formed by video rather than by text content. This article describes how media represents Aboriginal Australians’ life through two documentary series shot by the Australian filmmakers in the latest years.

The assumption that Islam is a new religious identity among Aboriginal Australians is questioned. The historical evidence demonstrates a well-established connection between Islam and Aboriginal communities through the early migration of Muslims to colonial Australia. This historical framework allows us to criticise the negative construction of the Aboriginal Muslim in the media through the use of statistical information gathered in three Australian censuses (1996, 2001 and 2006). Our conclusion is that the Aboriginal Muslim needs to be understood both in terms of the historical context of colonial Australia and the Aboriginal experience of social and political marginalisation. Their conversion to Islam represents some degree of cultural continuity rather than rupture. Finally the article demonstrates that the sociological and psychological understanding of conversion is underdeveloped and inadequate.

Otitis media (OM) is highly prevalent among Aboriginal Australians, in whom eardrum perforations with discharge have been reported in the first 3 months of life. Only one published study, however, has described middle ear status at birth or prior to eardrum perforation in young Aboriginal infants. This prospective study used otoscopy, tympanometry, and hearing tests to compare middle ear status and hearing sensitivity in Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal neonates. Immobile eardrums were observed immediately after birth, but mobility generally appeared within the first week. At examinations at 6 to 8 weeks of age, OM with effusion or acute OM was observed in 95% of 22 Aboriginal infants, but OM with effusion was seen in only 30% of 10 non-Aboriginal infants. There was a clinic record of unilateral perforation in 1 Aboriginal infant only. Hearing impairment was demonstrated by auditory brain stem response in 5 ears, all with evidence of middle ear abnormalities. Improved knowledge and diagnosis of the signs and symptoms of OM will contribute to improvements in the provision of early medical intervention to populations at high risk for early OM.

Place is central to the identity of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. The Narrabeen Camp Project explores the use of immersive technologies to offer opportunities to engage with Indigenous histories, Storytelling and cultural heritage in ways that privilege place. While nothing can replace being ‘on Country’, the XR technologies of AR and VR support different modalities of engagement with real, and virtual, place. The project documents the Stories, Language and Lore associated with the Gai-mariagal clan and, in particular, with the Aboriginal Camp that existed on the north-western shore of Narrabeen Lakes from the end of the last ice age to 1959 when it was demolished to make way for the Sydney Academy of Sports and Recreation. The project will investigate evolving Aboriginal Storytelling dynamics when using immersive digital media to teach culture and to document a historically important site that existed for thousands of years prior to its demolition in the mid-twentieth century. It expects to generate new knowledge about Aboriginal Storytelling and about the history of urban Aboriginals. Expected outcomes include a schema connecting Aboriginal Storytelling with immersive digital technologies, and truth-telling that advances understanding of modern Australia and urban Aboriginal people. The research should promote better mental, social and emotional health and wellbeing for Indigenous Australians and benefit all Australians culturally, socially and economically.

Many Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Services (ACCHS) embrace Facebook as an organisational tool to share positive stories, which counter the negative narrative surrounding Aboriginal issues. However, the Facebook algorithm prioritises posts on personal pages over organisations. To take advantage of the algorithm, this project paid three Yolŋu employees of a north-east Arnhem Land ACCHS to share quit smoking messages on their personal Facebook pages. Smoking prevalence among Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians is nearly three-fold higher than non-Indigenous Australians, and previous research has identified the need for culturally appropriate communication approaches to accelerate the decline in Indigenous smoking. This research found Yolŋu participants nurtured healthy behaviours through compassionate non-coercive communications, in contrast to fear-inducing health warnings prevalent in tobacco control. Cultural tailoring of tobacco control messages was achieved by having trusted local health staff sharing, and endorsing, messages regardless of whether the content was Indigenous specific. This research also revealed online Facebook activity does not reflect the reach of posts, which may extend beyond social media users to individuals who do not have a Facebook profile.

While journalism scholars have identified a lack of critical reflexivity in journalism, few have identified ways to educate university students for critically reflexive journalism practice. This article reports on a university teaching project that enables such practice as a means to counter exclusions, stereotyping and misrepresentation of Aboriginal people by large-scale Australian media. Using Bourdieus concept of habitus to track transformations in student dispositions, particularly as they relate to practice, the article shows how participating students became more competent and confident Aboriginal affairs journalists with a strengthened sense of themselves, their practice and the journalistic field. Their investment in the field was strengthened as they sought to tell hidden and disregarded stories, and to include previously excluded voices, perspectives and representations. The article describes and analyses an example of critically reflexive learning, practice and teaching that has the potential to transform students learning, the journalistic field and relations between Aboriginal non-Aboriginal Australians.

SUMMARYThis study examined the relationship between body mass index (BMI) and the risk of pneumonia in Aboriginal Australians. A total of 677 adults aged 20–60 years were followed up from the baseline examination during 1992–1995 to June 2012. The pneumonia events were identified through hospital records. Pneumonia incident rates were calculated according to BMI groups. Hazard ratios were computed using Cox regression adjusting for age, smoking and alcohol consumption status. The incident rate of pneumonia was 13·3/1000 person-years, and this rate was significantly higher in females than males (hazard ratio = 1·5). Compared to males with normal BMI (18·5–24·9 kg/m2), the adjusted hazard ratio was 3·5 for males with lowest BMI (P < 0·01). Low BMI was significantly associated with a higher risk of hospitalized pneumonia for Aboriginal males. However, the U-shaped trend of this association indicates that the risk of pneumonia is likely to be associated with both low and high BMI.

This article reports on the findings of a research project that investigated the use of mobile phones and the internet in remote Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities in Australia. Indigenous Australians living in remote areas have previously had little access to and use of the internet (Rennie et al 2013) and are far less likely to access the internet within the home than non-Indigenous Australians (Rennie et al 2010). The proliferation of mobile phone ownership in Indigenous communities in Australian and internationally (Brady et al 2008) is resulting in increased access to the internet via mobile devices, as well as new communication, social and economic implications for phone owners. Using qualitative methodologies, including focus groups and semi-structured interviews in four remote communities, this article explores the ways that remote community members are using mobile phones; their access to online information and social media; and the problems they experience with service provision, bills and connectivity. It reinforces the need for more research into barriers to phone and internet usage by Aboriginal and Torres Strait people in remote areas, as well as the importance of informing remote community members of their telecommunications rights.

Nutrition interventions can support Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples to reduce their risk of cardiovascular disease (CVD). This review examines nutritional interventions aiming to improve CVD outcomes and appraises peer-reviewed interventions using an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Quality Appraisal Tool. Five electronic databases and grey literature were searched, applying no time limit. Two reviewers completed the screening, data extraction and quality assessment independently. The study quality was assessed using the South Australian Health and Medical Research Institute and the Centre of Research Excellence in Aboriginal Chronic Disease Knowledge Translation and Exchange Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Quality Appraisal Tool (QAT). Twenty-one nutrition programs were included in this review. Twelve reported on anthropometric measurements, ten on biochemical and/or hematological measurements and sixteen on other outcome domains. Most programs reported improvements in measurable CVD risk factors, including reduced body mass index (BMI), waist circumference (WC), weight, blood pressure and improved lipid profiles. Most programs performed well at community engagement and capacity strengthening, but many lacked the inclusion of Indigenous research paradigms, governance and strengths-based approaches. This review highlights the need for contemporary nutrition programs aimed at improving cardiovascular health outcomes to include additional key cultural components.

Objective. Cardiovascular disease (CVD) is the leading disease burden in Aboriginal Australians, but culturally appropriate cardiac rehabilitation programs are lacking. We evaluated the uptake and effects on lifestyle, and cardiovascular risk factors, of cardiac rehabilitation at an Aboriginal Medical Service (AMS). Methods. The program involved weekly exercise and education sessions (through ‘yarning’) for Aboriginal people with or at risk of CVD. Participants’ perceptions of the program and the impact on risk factors were evaluated following 8 weeks of attendance. Results. In twenty-eight participants (20 females) who completed 8 weeks of sessions, body mass index (34.0 ± 5.1 v. 33.3 ± 5.2 kg m–2; P < 0.05), waist girth (113 ± 14 v. 109 ± 13 cm; P < 0.01) and blood pressure (135/78 ± 20/12 v. 120/72 ± 16/5 mmHg; P < 0.05) decreased and 6- min walk distance increased (296 ± 115 v. 345 ± 135 m; P < 0.01). ‘Yarning’ helped identify and address a range of chronic health issues including medication compliance, risk factor review and chest pain management. Conclusions. AMS-based cardiac rehabilitation was well attended, and improved cardiovascular risk factors and health management. An AMS is an ideal location for managing cardiovascular health and provides a setting conducive to addressing a broad range of chronic conditions. What is known about the topic? Cardiovascular disease is the leading cause of morbidity and mortality in Aboriginal Australians, but less than 5% of eligible Aboriginal people attend hospital-based cardiac rehabilitation. What does this paper add? This is the first study to describe a culturally appropriate cardiac rehabilitation program conducted in a metropolitan Aboriginal Medical Service. It provides a detailed account of the program’s components and its effects on physical and psychosocial determinants of cardiovascular health in participants. What are the implications for practitioners? Health management programs similar to the one evaluated in this study could be developed to suit the specific needs of other Indigenous communities around Australia to address a range of chronic conditions.

e24028 Background: Given the impact of COVID-19 on Indigenous and ethnic minority populations observed globally, keeping COVID-19 out of vulnerable Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander (Indigenous Australian) communities remains a priority. Compared to non-Indigenous Australians, Indigenous Australians experience disparities in cancer incidence and outcomes due to social disadvantage, increased cancer-related modifiable risk factors, poorer access to health services and lower participation in screening. During the pandemic, cancer-related investigations and treatment reduced significantly in Australia, leading to potential decreases in cancer diagnoses and consequences for future survival outcomes. Concerned about the risk of morbidity and mortality due to COVID-19 for Indigenous Australians, as well as worsening cancer outcomes, Cancer Australia undertook strategic health promotion initiatives, to inform and support optimal cancer care. Methods: In consultation with respected Indigenous colleagues to ensure cultural appropriateness of language and information, we published a dedicated webpage titled ‘ Cancer and COVID-19 – what it means for our Mob*’ with tailored information, advice, and links to key resources and support services for Indigenous Australians. We also released a video titled ‘ Act early for our Mob’s Health’, providing targeted, culturally appropriate, consumer-friendly information to encourage Indigenous Australians to see their doctor or Aboriginal Health Worker with symptoms that may be due to cancer. Results: The information hub has been well-received among the Indigenous Australian community, receiving over 3,200 visits, and the social media campaigns have received over 1.4 million impressions and 46,000 video views between mid-March 2020 to mid-February 2021. This campaign has supported proactivity among the Indigenous population in keeping their communities safe during the pandemic, maintaining a population rate of COVID-19 of less than one percent of all confirmed cases in Australia. Conclusions: Culturally appropriate information and resources developed through the process of co-design can help to influence positive health behaviour change in Indigenous populations. We predict that our strategic, multi-channel health promotion campaign is contributing to keeping the Indigenous Australian community safe and informed during the pandemic, with additional work needed to monitor cancer rates and outcomes and address the ongoing information needs of the community. *Mob is a colloquial term to identify a group of Indigenous Australians associated with a family or community from a certain place.

Threatened aboriginal cultures provide valuable criteria for fruitful criticism of the dominant Western cultural paradigm and perceptual model, which many take for granted as the inevitable path for humankind to follow. However, this Western model has proven itself to be imprecise and limiting. It obscures fundamental aspects of human nature, such as the mythical, religious dimension, and communication with the Cosmos. Modern technology, high-speed communication and mass media affect our ability to perceive reality and respond to it. Non-Western worldviews could help us to regain meaningful communication with Nature and to learn new ways of perceiving our world.

The current paper is concerned with linguocultural (ethnolinguistic) analysis of australianisms as culture specific words which are either not found in British English (the mother tongue) or are different from their British counterparts to some extent. The main research question was to identify the key lexemes of this type and establish correlation between them and Australian values (the national identity) as well as ethnostereotypes in modern Australian society. The novelty of the approach to studying these lexical units is in looking at them in terms of their functioning in speech and pragmatics based on the most sensitive to social change and dynamic type of discourse – the media (The material was drawn for the national papers “The Daily Telegraph, Australia” and “The Australian” over the past decade). By means of the random selection method, definitional and contextual analyses six key concepts have been identified (fair go, fair dinkum, larrikin, battler, bludger, (hard) yakka – the last word being aboriginal) and their place in the national identity structure defined. Also, we found some differences in how the same australianisms were presented and ranked in either paper manifesting certain values (for example, battler) or anti-values (for example, bludger) depending on the editorial board’s opinion and/or the content. For instance, “The Daily Telegraph” clearly highlighted the idea of justice (e.g. fair go, fair dinkum), while “The Autralian” put more focus on praising the stubbornness of Australians in the struggle against various obstacles (e.g. battler). References to the boisterous (larrikin) nature of Australians were somewhat more frequent “The Daily Telegraph”, although this concept was quite important for both newspapers. One of the most interesting results we got was a shift in connotations of several australianisms. Thus, it was shown that some words (for example, larrikin), originally having a negative meaning, with time may become positively connoted, characterising a certain previously disapproved type of person / behavior as normal. The study can be continued to include more words of this type, especially aboriginal ones which are already used in media and call for ethnolinguistic (linguocultural) interpretation by researchers.

Much Indigenous affairs journalism in the Western Australian state capital of Perth reproduces colonial discourse and perpetuates racist stereotypes of Aboriginal people. Against this background the traditional custodians of Perth, the Noongar people, have struggled to find a media voice. Meanwhile, observers in several countries have critiqued a shift from journalism about specific places toward journalism concerned with no place in particular. Spurred by globalisation, this shift has de-emphasised the ‘where?’ question in the ‘what, where, who, why, how and when?’ template of journalistic investigation. Reporting from a project in which journalism students collaborated with Noongar community organisations, we argue that an understanding of Indigenous Australians’ profound connection to place can inform journalists about the underlying character of places about which they report. We suggest that working with Indigenous people can transform the way journalists conceptualise their careers, and help secure a sense of place for Indigenous people in the media. Finally, collaborating with Indigenous people can teach journalists to view their professional practices through a sense of place lens, re-emphasising the ‘where?’ question in its application to both geographic place and the realm of a journalist’s imagination.

How litigious are Australians? Although quantitative studies have comprehensively debunked the fear of an Australian civil justice system in crisis, the literature has yet to address the qualitative public policy question of whether Australians are under- or over-using the legal system to resolve their disputes. On one view, expressed by the insurance industry, the mass media and prominent members of the judiciary, Australia is moving towards an American-style hyper-litigiousness. By contrast, Australian popular culture paints the typical Australian as culturally averse to formal rights assertion. This article explores the comparative law literature on litigiousness in two jurisdictions that have attracted significant scholarly attention — the United States and Japan. More specifically, it seeks to draw lessons from this literature for both understanding litigiousness in modern Australia and framing future research projects on the issue.

We have been talking together about concepts of place for many years, and both jointly and separately we have come up against many horrific facts of damage, trauma, loss and irretrievable devastation. Debbie encountered this first and foremost in her work with Aboriginal Australians: What happens when sacred sites are destroyed? What are the effects of being dispossessed and having one’s own existence denied? What are the consequences of extinction when the extinct ones are kin—members of the one totemic family? Debbie’s engagements with ecological loss pressed her to consider extinctions and then to think of life itself in the context of desecration. Pete encountered these facts in his wide-ranging work with loss of place: What is the impact of destroyed homes and lost country? How do people engage with deliberate erasure of the sacred in recent war zones, with the vandalised cemeteries in Havana, or with a church in New South Wales where a black mass was conducted?

Microalbuminuria is a risk factor for renal and cardiovascular diseases. Oxidant stress may contribute to vascular disease risk by promoting damage to renal and vascular tissues. This study examined the associations of plasma levels of diet-derived antioxidants with albuminuria in Australian population groups at high risk of renal and cardiovascular disease. Data on microalbuminuria and diet-derived plasma antioxidants were drawn from results of cross-sectional community-based risk factor surveys of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples (n=698, 15 years and older). Prevalence of microalbuminuria ranged from 17–21%. After adjustment for age, gender, body mass index, diabetes, smoking status, plasma lipids and blood pressure, microalbuminuria was associated with significantly lower plasma concentrations of lycopene (-29%; P<0.001), β-carotene (-22%; P<0.001), α-carotene (-22%; P<0.001) and cryptoxanthin (-17%; P<0.001) compared with normalbuminuric persons. Significant associations of microalbuminuria with plasma concentrations of α-tocopherol, retinol, lutein plus zeaxanthin and homocysteine were absent. The data are consistent with a protective effect of diets rich in carotenoids on vascular endothelium and/or renal tissues, and support the need for interventions to address affordable food supplies and dietary quality among Indigenous Australians.

Background Facebook is widely used by Australia’s First Nations people and has significant potential to promote health. However, evidence-based guidelines for its use in health promotion are lacking. Smoking prevalence among Australia’s First Nations people is nearly 3 times higher than other Australians. Locally designed programs in Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Services (ACCHOs) to reduce smoking often use Facebook. Objective This study reports on an analysis of the reach and engagement of Facebook posts with smoking prevention and cessation messages posted by ACCHOs in the Northern Territory, Australia. Methods Each service posted tobacco control content at least weekly for approximately 6 months. Posts were coded for the following variables: service posted, tailored First Nations Australian content, local or nonlocally produced content, video or nonvideo, communication technique, and emotional appeal. The overall reach, shares, and reactions were calculated. Results Compared with posts developed by the health services, posts with content created by other sources had greater reach (adjusted incident rate ratio [IRR] 1.92, 95% CI 1.03-3.59). Similarly, reactions to posts (IRR 1.89, 95% CI 1.40-2.56) and shared posts (IRR 2.17, 95% CI 1.31-3.61) with content created by other sources also had more reactions, after controlling for reach, as did posts with local First Nations content compared with posts with no First Nations content (IRR 1.71, 95% CI 1.21-2.34). Conclusions Facebook posts with nonlocally produced content can be an important component of a social media campaign run by local health organizations. With the exception of nonlocally produced content, we did not find a definitive set of characteristics that were clearly associated with reach, shares, and reactions. Beyond reach, shares, and likes, further research is needed to understand the extent that social media content can influence health behavior.

For young Australians in the early 1960s America was the icon of pop music and fashion. This was the result of the projection of America through the mass media and the numerous American rock'n'roll acts that were brought to Australia by Lee Gordon, an American entrepreneur who lived in Sydney (Zion 1984). This overall tendency led the American, A. L. McLeod, to observe when writing about Australian culture in 1963 thatin general, Australian popular music is slavishly imitative of United States models; it follows jazz, swing, calypso or whatever the current fashion is in New York or San Francisco at a few months distance. (McLeod 1963, p. 410)Yet by late 1963 the potency of America was in decline. For while the Californian surf music craze made a somewhat delayed impact, especially in Sydney, the popularity of the Beatles was gathering momentum. This can be traced crudely through the Top Forty lists of the day: in Sydney the song ‘From Me To You’ entered the charts on 12 July 1963 and eventually reached number six (Barnes et al. 1979, p. 50).

This paper 1 attempts to explain the vulnerability of aboriginal people to involvement in the criminal justice system in Canada. It argues that one of the most important factors is a decline in interdependency among people in aboriginal communities. This has come about as the result of historical processes (such as colonisation and the creation of the reserve system) which have reproduced mainstream social structure without accompanying institutional development. This has been exacerbated by cultural dislocation and the decline of informal mechanisms of social control. The end result is socially stratified communities where limited resources and resource distribution create large groups of disadvantaged people, a growing youth sub-culture with few legitimate outlets or opportunities, decontextualised exposure to the mass media, and the lack of cultural and social resources to assist in identity formation which support pro-social values. Three factors are most conducive to a crime problem. The first is the large group of marginalised and non-integrated people in communities because of the uneven distribution of resources; the second is that reserves are not generally integrated into mainstream Canadian society (because of historical practices of exclusion and the second class status ascribed to aboriginal people) and the resulting alienation is most prominent in those with the fewest connections to mainstream society; and the third is that exposure to dysfunctional family life and childhood abuse (in addition to other factors conducive to criminal behaviour) have profoundly negative effects on individual development. The most marginalised groups in communities are most affected by these factors. When these groups leave reserves they have few tools for survival or for gaining status or integration into mainstream society. In the urban setting, the lack of education, employment skills, coupled with substance abuse problems and histories of family violence and dysfunction, lead to negative peer associations and the adoption of antisocial and pro-criminal attitudes. There is a growing problemof marginalised people leaving reserves to live in urban areas.

Oxidative stress plays an important role in the development of atherosclerosis. Excess visceral adipose tissue (VAT) and increased carotid intima-media thickness (IMT) are risk factors for coronary artery disease. We tested the hypothesis that VAT and IMT were associated with systemic oxidative stress. Healthy men and women (n = 565) matched for ethnicity (Aboriginal, Chinese, European, and South Asian) were recruited. Plasma malondialdehyde, a biomarker of oxidative stress, was measured as thiobarbituric acid reactive substances (TBARS). VAT and IMT were determined by computerized tomography and ultrasound scans, respectively. Plasma TBARS levels correlated with VAT and total atheroma burden (sum of IMT area and plaque area) in the entire cohort. When stratified by ethnicity, plasma TBARS levels correlated with distinct body composition and arterial measures in different ethnic populations with more associations present amongst Chinese and Europeans relative to Aboriginals and South Asians. VAT was associated with plasma TBARS levels independent of age, sex, ethnicity, smoking, and body mass index. Plasma TBARS levels were associated with IMT, the presence of plaques, and total atheroma burden, independent of age, sex, ethnicity, smoking, body mass index, and VAT. The association with total atheroma burden remained significant even when adjusted for apolipoprotein B. Results from the present study indicate that oxidative stress is positively associated with VAT as well as diffuse and focal carotid atherosclerosis in apparently healthy men and women.

Objectives: Anorexia nervosa is a severe psychiatric disorder with high mortality rates. While its aetiology is poorly understood, there is evidence of a significant genetic component. The Anorexia Nervosa Genetics Initiative is an international collaboration which aims to understand the genetic basis of the disorder. This paper describes the recruitment and characteristics of the Australasian Anorexia Nervosa Genetics Initiative sample, the largest sample of individuals with anorexia nervosa ever assembled across Australia and New Zealand. Methods: Participants completed an online questionnaire based on the Structured Clinical Interview Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (4th ed.; DSM-IV) eating disorders section. Participants who met specified case criteria for lifetime anorexia nervosa were requested to provide a DNA sample for genetic analysis. Results: Overall, the study recruited 3414 Australians and 543 New Zealanders meeting the lifetime anorexia nervosa case criteria by using a variety of conventional and social media recruitment methods. At the time of questionnaire completion, 28% had a body mass index ⩽ 18.5 kg/m2. Fasting and exercise were the most commonly employed methods of weight control, and were associated with the youngest reported ages of onset. At the time of the study, 32% of participants meeting lifetime anorexia nervosa case criteria were under the care of a medical practitioner; those with current body mass index < 18.5 kg/m2 were more likely to be currently receiving medical care (56%) than those with current body mass index ⩾ 18.5 kg/m2 (23%). Professional treatment for eating disorders was most likely to have been received from general practitioners (45% of study participants), dietitians (42%) and outpatient programmes (42%). Conclusions: This study was effective in assembling the largest community sample of people with lifetime anorexia nervosa in Australia and New Zealand to date. The proportion of people with anorexia nervosa currently receiving medical care, and the most common sources of treatment accessed, indicates the importance of training for general practitioners and dietitians in treating anorexia nervosa.

The article is devoted to the study of the state of institutional support for the rights of the indigenous peoples of the North. The industrial development of Siberian territories creates a threat of destruction of traditional forms of economic management. This makes this problem actual. The empirical material is the results of an expert survey conducted on the territory of the Khanty-Mansiysk Autonomous Okrug – Yugra. It is concluded that a regula- tory and legal framework has been created in the region to ensure the interests of indigenous peoples. However, it only creates an opportunity to protect their interests. This opportunity can be fully realized through the activities of political institutions. Today, public organizations of the indigenous peoples themselves are effectively working. They enjoy the trust of the indigenous population and protect not only the rights of Aboriginal people to traditional forms of farming, but also their socio-economic interests in general. However, the capabilities of these organizations are rather limited. For example, small indigenous peoples, due to their small number, do not have the opportunity to conduct “their” deputies to representative bodies of power. At the same time, the role of other actors – political organizations, mass media, ombudsmen – is insignificant. Expanding the range of political institutions involved in protecting the rights of the indigenous peoples of the North is the main condition for the successful solution of this task.

Australia in Maps is a compilation of cartography taken from the collection of over 600,000 maps held at the Australian National Library. Included in this collection are military maps, coastal maps and modern-day maps for tourists. The map of the eastern coast of ‘New Holland’ drawn by James Cook when he ‘discovered’ Australia in 1770 is included. Also published is Eddie Koiki Mabo’s map drawn on a hole-punched piece of paper showing traditional land holdings in the Murray Islands in the Torres Strait. This map became a key document in Eddie Mabo’s fight for native title recognition, a fight which became the precursor to native title rights as they are known today. The inclusion of these two drawings in a collection of maps defining Australia as a country illustrates the dichotomies and contradictions which exist in a colonial nation. It is now fifteen years since the Native Title Act 1994 (Commonwealth) was developed in response to the Mabo cases in order to recognise Indigenous customary law and traditional relationships to the land over certain (restricted) parts of Australia. It is 220 years since the First Fleet arrived and Indigenous land was (and remains) illegally possessed through the process of colonisation (Moreton-Robinson Australia). Questions surrounding ‘country’ – who owns it, has rights to use it, to live on it, to develop or protect it – are still contested and contentious today. In part, this contention arises out of the radically different conceptions of ‘country’ held by, in its simplest sense, Indigenous nations and colonisers. For Indigenous Australians the land has a spiritual significance that I, as a non-Indigenous person, cannot properly understand as a result of the different ways in which relationships to land are made available. The ways of understanding the world through which my identity as a non-Indigenous person are made intelligible, by contrast, see ‘country’ as there to be ‘developed’ and exploited. Within colonial logic, discourses of development and the productive use of resources function as what Wetherell and Potter term “rhetorically self-sufficient” in that they are principles which are considered to be beyond question (177). As Vincent Tucker states; “The myth of development is elevated to the status of natural law, objective reality and evolutionary necessity. In the process all other world views are devalued and dismissed as ‘primitive’, ‘backward’, ‘irrational’ or ‘naïve’” (1). It was this precise way of thinking which was able to justify colonisation in the first place. Australia was seen as terra nullius; an empty and un-developed land not recognized as inhabited. Indigenous people were incorrectly perceived as individuals who did not use the land in an efficient manner, rather than as individual nations who engaged with the land in ways that were not intelligible to the colonial eye. This paper considers the tensions inherent in definitions of ‘country’ and the way these tensions are played out through native title claims as white, colonial Australia attempts to recognise (and limit) Indigenous rights to land. It examines such tensions as they appear in the media as an example of how native title issues are made intelligible to the non-Indigenous general public who may otherwise have little knowledge or experience of native title issues. It has been well-documented that the news media play an important role in further disseminating those discourses which dominate in a society, and therefore frequently supports the interests of those in positions of power (Fowler; Hall et. al.). As Stuart Hall argues, this means that the media often reproduces a conservative status quo which in many cases is simply reflective of the positions held by other powerful institutions in society, in this case government, and mining and other commercial interests. This has been found to be the case in past analysis of media coverage of native title, such as work completed by Meadows (which found that media coverage of native title issues focused largely on non-Indigenous perspectives) and Hartley and McKee (who found that media coverage of native title negotiations frequently focused on bureaucratic issues rather than the rights of Indigenous peoples to oppose ‘developments’ on their land). This paper aims to build on this work, and to map the way in which native title, an ongoing issue for many Indigenous groups, figures in a mainstream newspaper at a time when there has not been much mainstream public interest in the process. In order to do this, this paper considered articles which appeared in Australia’s only national newspaper – The Australian – over the six months preceding the start of July 2008. Several main themes ran through these articles, examples of which are provided in the relevant sections. These included: economic interests in native title issues, discourses of white ownership and control of the land, and rhetorical devices which reinforced the battle-like nature of native title negotiations rather than emphasised the rights of Indigenous Australians to their lands. Native Title: Some Definitions and Some Problems The concept of native title itself can be a difficult one to grasp and therefore a brief definition is called for here. According to the National Native Title Tribunal (NNTT) website (www.nntt.gov.au), native title is the recognition by Australian law that some Indigenous people have rights and interests to their land that come from their traditional laws and customs. The native title rights and interests held by particular Indigenous people will depend on both their traditional laws and customs and what interests are held by others in the area concerned. Generally speaking, native title must give way to the rights held by others. Native title is therefore recognised as existing on the basis of certain laws and customs which have been maintained over an area of land despite the disruption caused by colonisation. As such, if native title is to be recognised over an area of country, Indigenous communities have to argue that their cultures and connection with the land have survived colonisation. As the Maori Land Court Chief Judge Joe Williams argues: In Australia the surviving title approach […] requires the Indigenous community to prove in a court or tribunal that colonisation caused them no material injury. This is necessary because, the greater the injury, the smaller the surviving bundle of rights. Communities who were forced off their land lose it. Those whose traditions and languages were beaten out of them at state sponsored mission schools lose all of the resources owned within the matrix of that language and those traditions. This is a perverse result. In reality, of course, colonisation was the greatest calamity in the history of these people on this land. Surviving title asks aboriginal people to pretend that it was not. To prove in court that colonisation caused them no material injury. Communities who were forced off their land are the same communities who are more likely to lose it. As found in previous research (Meadows), these inherent difficulties of the native title process were widely overlooked in recent media reports of native title issues published in The Australian. Due to recent suggestions made by Indigenous Affairs Minister Jenny Macklin for changes to be made to the native title system, The Australian did include reports on the need to ensure that traditional owners share the economic profits of the mining boom. This was seen in an article by Karvelas and Murphy entitled “Labor to Overhaul Native Title Law”. The article states that: Fifteen years after the passage of the historic Mabo legislation, the Rudd Government has flagged sweeping changes to native title to ensure the benefits of the mining boom flow to Aboriginal communities and are not locked up in trusts or frittered away. Indigenous Affairs Minister Jenny Macklin, delivering the third annual Eddie Mabo Lecture in Townsville, said yesterday that native title legislation was too complex and had failed to deliver money to remote Aboriginal communities, despite lucrative agreements with mining companies. (1) Whilst this passage appears supportive of Indigenous Australians in that it argues for their right to share in economic gains made through ‘developments’ on their country, the use of phrases such as ‘frittered away’ imply that Indigenous Australians have made poor use of their ‘lucrative agreements’, and therefore require further intervention in their lives in order to better manage their financial situations. Such an argument further implies that the fact that many remote Indigenous communities continue to live in poverty is the fault of Indigenous Australians’ mismanagement of funds from native title agreements rather than from governmental neglect, thereby locating the blame once more in the hands of Indigenous people rather than in a colonial system of dispossession and regulation. Whilst the extract does continue to state that native title legislation is too complex and has ‘failed to deliver money to remote Aboriginal communities’, the article does not go on to consider other areas in which native title is failing Indigenous people, such as reporting the protection of sacred and ceremonial sites, and provisions for Indigenous peoples to be consulted about developments on their land to which they may be opposed. Whilst native title agreements with companies may contain provisions for these issues, it is rare that there is any regulation for whether or not these provisions are met after an agreement is made (Faircheallaigh). These issues almost never appeared in the media which instead focused on the economic benefits (or lack thereof) stemming from the land rather than the sovereign rights of traditional owners to their country. There are many other difficulties inherent in the native title legislation for Indigenous peoples. It is worth discussing some of these difficulties as they provide an image of the ways in which ‘country’ is conceived of at the intersection of a Western legal system attempting to encompass Indigenous relations to land. The first of these difficulties relates to the way in which Indigenous people are required to delineate the boundaries of the country which they are claiming. Applications for native title over an area of land require strict outlining of boundaries for land under consideration, in accordance with a Western system of mapping country. The creation of such boundaries requires Indigenous peoples to define their country in Western terms rather than Indigenous ones, and in many cases proves quite difficult as areas of traditional lands may be unavailable to claim (Neate). Such differences in understandings of country mean that “for Indigenous peoples, the recognition of their indigenous title, should it be afforded, may bear little resemblance to, or reflect minimally on, their own conceptualisation of their relations to country” (Glaskin 67). Instead, existing as it does within a Western legal system and subject to Western determinations, native title forces Indigenous people to define themselves and their land within white conceptions of country (Moreton-Robinson Possessive). In fact, the entire concept of native title has been criticized by many Indigenous commentators as a denial of Indigenous sovereignty over the land, with the result of the Mabo case meaning that “Indigenous people did not lose their native title rights but were stripped of their sovereign rights to manage their own affairs, to live according to their own laws, and to own and control the resources on their lands” (Falk and Martin 38). As such, Falk and Martin argue that The Native Title Act amounts to a complete denial of Aboriginal sovereignty so that Indigenous people are forced to live under a colonial regime which is able to control and regulate their lives and access to country. This is commented upon by Aileen Moreton-Robinson, who writes that: What Indigenous people have been given, by way of white benevolence, is a white-constructed from of ‘Indigenous’ proprietary rights that are not epistemologically and ontologically grounded in Indigenous conceptions of sovereignty. Indigenous land ownership, under these legislative regimes, amounts to little more than a mode of land tenure that enables a circumscribed form of autonomy and governance with minimum control and ownership of resources, on or below the ground, thus entrenching economic dependence on the nation state. (Moreton-Robinson Sovereign Subjects 4) The native title laws in place in Australia restrict Indigenous peoples to existing within white frameworks of knowledge. Within the space of The Native Title Act there is no room for recognition of Indigenous sovereignty whereby Indigenous peoples can make decisions for themselves and control their own lands (Falk and Martin). These tensions within definitions of ‘country’ and sovereignty over land were reflected in the media articles examined, primarily in terms of the way in which ‘country’ was related to and used. This was evident in an article entitled “An Economic Vision” with a tag-line “Native Title Reforms offer Communities a Fresh Start”: Central to such a success story is the determination of indigenous people to help themselves. Such a business-like, forward-thinking approach is also evident in Kimberley Land Council executive director Wayne Bergmann's negotiations with some of the world's biggest resource companies […] With at least 45 per cent of Kimberley land subject to native title, Mr Bergmann, a qualified lawyer, is acutely aware of the royalties and employment potential. Communities are also benefitting from the largesse of Australia’s richest man, miner Andrew “Twiggy” Forrest, whose job training courses and other initiatives are designed to help the local people, in his words, become “wonderful participating Australians.” (15) Again, this article focuses on the economic benefits to be made from native title agreements with mining companies rather than other concerns with the use of Indigenous areas of country. The use of the quote from Forrest serves to imply that Indigenous peoples are not “wonderful participating Australians” unless they are able to contribute in an economic sense, and overlooks many contributions made by Indigenous peoples in other areas such as environmental protection. Such definitions also measure ‘success’ in Western terms rather than Indigenous ones and force Indigenous peoples into a relationship to country based on Western notions of resource extraction and profit rather than Indigenous notions of custodianship and sustainability. This construction of Indigenous economic involvement as only rendered valid on particular terms echoes findings from previous work on constructions of Indigenous people in the media, such as that by LeCouteur, Rapley and Augoustinos. Theorising ‘Country’ The examples provided above illustrate the fact that the rhetoric and dichotomies of ‘country’ are at the very heart of the native title process. The process of recognising Indigenous rights to land through native title invites the question of how ‘country’ is conceived in the first place. Goodall writes that there are tensions within definitions of ‘country’ which indicate the ongoing presence of Indigenous people’s connections to their land despite colonisation. She writes that the word ‘country’: may seem a self-evident description of rural economy and society, with associations of middle-class gentility as well as being the antonym of the city. Yet in Australia there is another dimension altogether. Aboriginal land-owners traditionally identify themselves by the name of the land for which they were the custodians. These lands are often called, in today’s Aboriginal English, their ‘country’. This gives the word a tense and resonating echo each time it is used to describe rural-settler society and land. (162) Yet the distinctions usually drawn between those defined as ‘country’ people or ‘locals’ and the traditional Indigenous people of the area suggest that, as Schlunke states, in many cases Indigenous people are “too local to be ‘local’” (43). In other words, if white belonging and rights to an area of country are to be normalised, the prior claims of traditional owners are not able to be considered. As such, Indigenous belonging becomes too confronting as it disrupts the ways in which other ‘country’ people relate to their land as legitimately theirs. In the media, constructions of ‘country’ frequently fell within a colonial definition of country which overlooked Indigenous peoples. In many of these articles land was normatively constructed as belonging to the crown or the state. This was evidenced in phrases such as, “The proceedings [of the Noongar native title claim over the South Western corner of Australia] have been watched closely by other states in the expectation they might encounter similar claims over their capital cities” (Buckley-Carr 2). Use of the word their implies that the states (which are divisions of land created by colonisation) have prior claim to ‘their’ capital cities and that they rightfully belong to the government rather than to traditional owners. Such definitions of ‘country’ reflect European rather than Indigenous notions of boundaries and possession. This is also reflected in media reports of native title in the widespread use of European names for areas of land and landmarks as opposed to their traditional Indigenous names. When the media reported on a native title claim over an area of land the European name for the country was used rather than, for example, the Indigenous name followed by a geographical description of where that land is situated. Customs such as this reflect a country which is still bound up in European definitions of land rather than Indigenous ones (Goodall 167; Schlunke 47-48), and also indicate that the media is reporting for a white audience rather than for an Indigenous one whom it would affect the most. Native title debates have also “shown the depth of belief within much of rural and regional Australia that rural space is most rightfully agricultural space” (Lockie 27). This construction of rural Australia is reflective of the broader national imagining of the country as a nation (Anderson), in which Australia is considered rich in resources from which to derive profit. Within these discourses the future of the nation is seen as lying in the ‘development’ of natural resources. As such, native title agreements with industry have often been depicted in the media as obstacles to be overcome by companies rather than a way of allowing Indigenous people control over their own lands. This often appears in the media in the form of metaphors of ‘war’ for agreements for use of Indigenous land, such as development being “frustrated” by native title (Bromby) and companies being “embattled” by native title issues (Wilson). Such metaphors illustrate the adversarial nature of native title claims both for recognition of the land in the first place and often in subsequent dealings with resource companies. This was also seen in reports of company progress which would include native title claims in a list of other factors affecting stock prices (such as weak drilling results and the price of metals), as if Indigenous claims to land were just another hurdle to profit-making (“Pilbara Lures”). Conclusion As far as the native title process is concerned, the answers to the questions considered at the start of this paper remain within Western definitions. Native title exists firmly within a Western system of law which requires Indigenous people to define and depict their land within non-Indigenous definitions and understandings of ‘country’. These debates are also frequently played out in the media in ways which reflect colonial values of using and harvesting country rather than Indigenous ones of protecting it. The media rarely consider the complexities of a system which requires Indigenous peoples to conceive of their land through boundaries and definitions not congruent with their own understandings. The issues surrounding native title draw attention to the need for alternative definitions of ‘country’ to enter the mainstream Australian consciousness. These need to encompass Indigenous understandings of ‘country’ and to acknowledge the violence of Australia’s colonial history. Similarly, the concept of native title needs to reflect Indigenous notions of country and allow traditional owners to define their land for themselves. In order to achieve these goals and overcome some of the obstacles to recognising Indigenous sovereignty over Australia the media needs to play a part in reorienting concepts of country from only those definitions which fit within a white framework of experiencing the world and prioritise Indigenous relations and experiences of country. If discourses of resource extraction were replaced with discourses of sustainability, if discourses of economic gains were replaced with respect for the land, and if discourses of white control over Indigenous lives in the form of native title reform were replaced with discourses of Indigenous sovereignty, then perhaps some ground could be made to creating an Australia which is not still in the process of colonising and denying the rights of its First Nations peoples. The tensions which exist in definitions and understandings of ‘country’ echo the tensions which exist in Australia’s historical narratives and memories. The denied knowledge of the violence of colonisation and the rights of Indigenous peoples to remain on their land all haunt a native title system which requires Indigenous Australians to minimise the effect this violence had on their lives, their families and communities and their values and customs. As Katrina Schlunke writes when she confronts the realisation that her family’s land could be the same land on which Indigenous people were massacred: “The irony of fears of losing one’s backyard to a Native Title claim are achingly rich. Isn’t something already lost to the idea of ‘Freehold Title’ when you live over unremembered graves? What is free? What are you to hold?” (151). If the rights of Indigenous Australians to their country are truly to be recognised, mainstream Australia needs to seriously consider such questions and whether or not the concept of ‘native title’ as it exists today is able to answer them. Acknowledgments I would like to thank Damien Riggs and Andrew Gorman-Murray for all their help and support with this paper, and Braden Schiller for his encouragement and help with proof-reading. I would also like to thank the anonymous referees for their insightful comments. References Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities. London: Verso, 1983. “An Economic Vision.” The Australian 23 May 2008. Bromby, Robin. “Areva deal fails to lift Murchison.” The Australian 30 June 2008: 33. Buckley-Carr, Alana. “Ruling on Native Title Overturned.” The Australian 24 April 2008: 2. Faircheallaigh, Ciaran. “Native Title and Agreement Making in the Mining Industry: Focusing on Outcomes for Indigenous Peoples.” Land, Rights, Laws: Issues of Native Title 2, (2004). 20 June 2008 http://ntru.aiatsis.gov.au/ntpapers/ipv2n25.pdf Falk, Philip and Gary Martin. “Misconstruing Indigenous Sovereignty: Maintaining the Fabric of Australian Law.” Sovereign Subjects: Indigenous Sovereignty Matters. Ed. Aileen Moreton-Robinson. Allen and Unwin, 2007. 33-46. Fowler, Roger. Language in the News: Discourse and Ideology in the Press. London: Routledge, 1991. Glaskin, Katie. “Native Title and the ‘Bundle of Rights’ Model: Implications for the Recognition of Aboriginal Relations to Country.” Anthropological Forum 13.1 (2003): 67-88. Goodall, Heather. “Telling Country: Memory, Modernity and Narratives in Rural Australia.” History Workshop Journal 47 (1999): 161-190. Hall, Stuart, Critcher, C., Jefferson, T., Clarke, J. and Roberts, B. Policing the Crisis: Mugging, the state, and Law and Order. London: Macmillan, 1978. Hartley, John, and Alan McKee. The Indigenous Public Sphere: The Reporting and Reception of Aboriginal Issues in the Australian Media. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2000. Karvelas, Patricia and Padraic Murphy. “Labor to Overhaul Native Title Laws.” The Australian, 22 May 2008: 1. LeCouteur, Amanda, Mark Rapley and Martha Augoustinos. “This Very Difficult Debate about Wik: Stake, Voice and the Management of Category Membership in Race Politics.” British Journal of Social Psychology 40 (2001): 35-57. Lockie, Stewart. “Crisis and Conflict: Shifting Discourses of Rural and Regional Australia.” Land of Discontent: The Dynamics of Change in Rural and Regional Australia. Ed. Bill Pritchard and Phil McManus. Kensington: UNSW P, 2000. 14-32. Meadows, Michael. “Deals and Victories: Newspaper Coverage of Native Title in Australia and Canada.” Australian Journalism Review 22.1 (2000): 81-105. Moreton-Robinson, Aileen. “I still call Australia Home: Aboriginal Belonging and Place in a White Postcolonising Nation.” Uprooting/Regrounding: Questions of Home and Migration. Eds. S Ahmed et.al. Oxford: Berg, 2003. 23-40. Moreton-Robinson, Aileen. “The Possessive Logic of Patriarchal White Sovereignty: The High Court and the Yorta Yorta Decision.” Borderlands e-Journal 3.2 (2004). 20 June 2008. http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol3no2_2004/moreton_possessive.htm Morteton-Robinson, Aileen. Ed. Sovereign Subjects: Indigenous Sovereignty Matters. Allen and Unwin, 2007. Neate, Graham. “Mapping Landscapes of the Mind: A Cadastral Conundrum in the Native Title Era.” Conference on Land Tenure and Cadastral Infrastructures for Sustainable Development, Melbourne, Australia (1999). 20 July 2008. http://www.sli.unimelb.edu.au/UNConf99/sessions/session5/neate.pdf O’Connor, Maura. Australia in Maps: Great Maps in Australia’s History from the National Library’s Collection. Canberra: National Library of Australia, 2007. “Pilbara Lures Explorer with Promise of Metal Riches.” The Australian. 28 May 2008: Finance 2. Schlunke, Katrina. Bluff Rock: An Autobiography of a Massacre. Fremantle: Curtin U Books, 2005. “The National Native Title Tribunal.” Exactly What is Native Title? 29 July 2008. http://www.nntt.gov.au/What-Is-Native-Title/Pages/What-is-Native-Title.aspx The National Native Title Tribunal Fact Sheet. What is Native Title? 29 July 2008. http://www.nntt.gov.au Path; Publications-And-Research; Publications; Fact Sheets. Tucker, Vincent. “The Myth of Development: A Critique of Eurocentric Discourse.” Critical Development Theory: Contributions to a New Paradigm. Ed. Ronaldo Munck, Denis O'Hearn. Zed Books, 1999. 1-26. Wetherell, Margaret, and Jonathan Potter. Mapping the Language of Racism: Discourse and the Legitimation of Exploitation. New York: Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1992. Williams, Joe. “Confessions of a Native Title Judge: Reflections on the Role of Transitional Justice in the Transformation of Indigeneity.” Land, Rights, Laws: Issues of Native Title 3, (2008). 20 July 2008. http://ntru.aiatsis.gov.au/publications/issue_papers.html Wilson, Nigel. “Go with the Flow.” The Australian, 29 March 2008: 1.

While stylistics has successfully integrated the study of language use in film and television, relatively little research has tried to systematically classify the functions of television or film dialogue – i.e. to taxonomise its range of potential stylistic functions such as characterisation or the creation of consistency. Most stylistic research has also focussed on traditional US (Hollywood) or European narrative mass media, rather than culturally-diverse or Indigenous-authored film and television. This article aims to make a contribution to both of these under-examined fields by offering a case study of the stylistic functions of Australian Aboriginal English lexis in three successful Indigenous-authored television series. The three series ( Redfern Now, Cleverman and Mystery Road) are all important for the television canon and were broadcast in Australia as well as exported internationally. Using an existing corpus with dialogue from these series as repository, this article illustrates the different functions of Australian Aboriginal English lexis in its surrounding text by critically examining multiple dialogue extracts from the three narratives. Quotations from Indigenous screen creatives are interwoven with the analysis where relevant. We argue that such lexis fulfils many functions beyond characterisation and demonstrate the significance of communicating culture and identity in Indigenous-authored drama. The study has implications both for the stylistic analysis of the multiple functions of television/film dialogue and for the study of narratives that feature significant creative involvement by marginalised, subjugated, colonised, or otherwise historically excluded communities – including but not limited to Aboriginal and/or Torres Strait islander people(s) in Australia.

Abstract Background We explored the nasal microbiota in Indigenous Australian children in relation to ear and nasal health. Methods In total, 103 Indigenous Australian children aged 2–7 years (mean 4.7 years) were recruited from 2 Queensland communities. Children’s ears, nose, and throats were examined and upper respiratory tract (URT) swabs collected. Clinical histories were obtained from parents/medical records. URT microbiota were characterized using culturomics with Matrix assisted laser desorption ionization-time of flight mass spectrometry (MALDI-TOF MS) identification. Real-time PCR was used to quantify otopathogen (Haemophilus influenzae, Streptococcus pneumoniae, and Moraxella catarrhalis) loads and detect respiratory viruses. Data were analyzed using beta diversity measures, regression modeling, and a correlation network analysis. Results Children with historical/current otitis media (OM) or URT infection (URTI) had higher nasal otopathogen detection and loads and rhinovirus detection compared with healthy children (all P &lt; .04). Children with purulent rhinorrhea had higher nasal otopathogen detection and loads and rhinovirus detection (P &lt; .04) compared with healthy children. High otopathogen loads were correlated in children with historical/current OM or URTI, whereas Corynebacterium pseudodiphtheriticum and Dolosigranulum pigrum were correlated in healthy children. Conclusions Corynebacterium pseudodiphtheriticum and D. pigrum are associated with URT and ear health. The importance of the main otopathogens in URT disease/OM was confirmed, and their role relates to co-colonization and high otopathogens loads.

Special Care Notice This paper discusses trauma and violence inflicted upon the Indigenous peoples of Tasmania through the process of colonisation. Content within this paper may be distressing to some readers. Introduction The decimation of the First Peoples of Van Diemen’s Land (now Tasmania) was systematic and swift. First Contact was an emotionally, intellectually, physically, and spiritually confronting series of encounters for the Indigenous inhabitants. There were, according to some early records, a few examples of peaceful interactions (Morris 84). Yet, the inevitable competition over resources, and the intensity with which colonists pursued their “claims” for food, land, and water, quickly transformed amicable relationships into hostile rivalries. Jennifer Gall has written that, as “European settlement expanded in the late 1820s, violent exchanges between settlers and Aboriginal people were frequent, brutal and unchecked” (58). Indeed, the near-annihilation of the original custodians of the land was, if viewed through the lens of time, a process that could be described as one that was especially efficient. As John Morris notes: in 1803, when the first settlers arrived in Van Diemen’s Land, the Aborigines had already inhabited the island for some 25,000 years and the population has been estimated at 4,000. Seventy-three years later, Truganinni, [often cited as] the last Tasmanian of full Aboriginal descent, was dead. (84) Against a backdrop of extreme violence, often referred to as the Black War (Clements 1), there were some, admittedly dubious, efforts to contain the bloodshed. One such effort, in the late 1820s, was the production, and subsequent distribution, of a set of Proclamation Boards. Approximately 100 Proclamation Boards (the Board) were introduced by the Lieutenant Governor of the day, George Arthur (after whom Port Arthur on the Tasman Peninsula is named). The purpose of these Boards was to communicate, via a four-strip pictogram, to the Indigenous peoples of the island colony that all people—black and white—were considered equal under the law. “British Justice would protect” everyone (Morris 84). This is reflected in the narrative of the Boards. The first image presents Indigenous peoples and colonists living peacefully together. The second, and central, image shows “a conciliatory handshake between the British governor and an Aboriginal ‘chief’, highly reminiscent of images found in North America on treaty medals and anti-slavery tokens” (Darian-Smith and Edmonds 4). The third and fourth images depict the repercussions for committing murder, with an Indigenous man hanged for spearing a colonist and a European man also hanged for shooting an Aborigine. Both men executed under “gubernatorial supervision” (Turnbull 53). Image 1: Governor Davey's [sic - actually Governor Arthur's] Proclamation to the Aborigines, 1816 [sic - actually c. 1828-30]. Image Credit: Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW (Call Number: SAFE / R 247). The Board is an interesting re-imagining of one of the traditional methods of communication for Indigenous peoples; the leaving of images on the bark of trees. Such trees, often referred to as scarred trees, are rare in modern-day Tasmania as “the expansion of settlements, and the impact of bush fires and other environmental factors” resulted in many of these trees being destroyed (Aboriginal Heritage Tasmania online). Similarly, only a few of the Boards, inspired by these trees, survive today. The Proclamation Board was, in the 1860s, re-imagined as the output of a different Governor: Lieutenant Governor Davey (after whom Port Davey, on the south-west coast of Tasmania is named). This re-imagining of the Board’s creator was so effective that the Board, today, is popularly known as Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines. This paper outlines several other re-imaginings of this Board. In addition, this paper offers another, new, re-imagining of the Board, positing that this is an early “pamphlet” on crime, justice and punishment which actually presents as a pre-cursor to the modern Australian true crime tale. In doing so this work connects the Proclamation Board to the larger genre of crime fiction. One Proclamation Board: Two Governors Labelled Van Diemen’s Land and settled as a colony of New South Wales in 1803, this island state would secede from the administration of mainland Australia in 1825. Another change would follow in 1856 when Van Diemen’s Land was, in another process of re-imagining, officially re-named Tasmania. This change in nomenclature was an initiative to, symbolically at least, separate the contemporary state from a criminal and violent past (Newman online). Tasmania’s violent history was, perhaps, inevitable. The island was claimed by Philip Gidley King, the Governor of New South Wales, in the name of His Majesty, not for the purpose of building a community, but to “prevent the French from gaining a footing on the east side of that island” and also to procure “timber and other natural products, as well as to raise grain and to promote the seal industry” (Clark 36). Another rationale for this land claim was to “divide the convicts” (Clark 36) which re-fashioned the island into a gaol. It was this penal element of the British colonisation of Australia that saw the worst of the British Empire forced upon the Aboriginal peoples. As historian Clive Turnbull explains: the brutish state of England was reproduced in the English colonies, and that in many ways its brutishness was increased, for now there came to Australia not the humanitarians or the indifferent, but the men who had vested interests in the systems of restraint; among those who suffered restraint were not only a vast number who were merely unfortunate and poverty-stricken—the victims of a ‘depression’—but brutalised persons, child-slaughterers and even potential cannibals. (Turnbull 25) As noted above the Black War of Tasmania saw unprecedented aggression against the rightful occupants of the land. Yet, the Aboriginal peoples were “promised the white man’s justice, the people [were] exhorted to live in amity with them, the wrongs which they suffer [were] deplored” (Turnbull 23). The administrators purported an egalitarian society, one of integration and peace but Van Diemen’s Land was colonised as a prison and as a place of profit. So, “like many apologists whose material benefit is bound up with the systems which they defend” (Turnbull 23), assertions of care for the health and welfare of the Aboriginal peoples were made but were not supported by sufficient policies, or sufficient will, and the Black War continued. Colonel Thomas Davey (1758-1823) was the second person to serve as Lieutenant Governor of Van Diemen’s Land; a term of office that began in 1813 and concluded in 1817. The fourth Lieutenant Governor of the island was Colonel Sir George Arthur (1784-1854); his term of office, significantly longer than Davey’s, being from 1824 to 1836. The two men were very different but are connected through this intriguing artefact, the Proclamation Board. One of the efforts made to assert the principle of equality under the law in Van Diemen’s Land was an outcome of work undertaken by Surveyor General George Frankland (1800-1838). Frankland wrote to Arthur in early 1829 and suggested the Proclamation Board (Morris 84), sometimes referred to as a Picture Board or the Tasmanian Hieroglyphics, as a tool to support Arthur’s various Proclamations. The Proclamation, signed on 15 April 1828 and promulgated in the The Hobart Town Courier on 19 April 1828 (Arthur 1), was one of several notices attempting to reduce the increasing levels of violence between Indigenous peoples and colonists. The date on Frankland’s correspondence clearly situates the Proclamation Board within Arthur’s tenure as Lieutenant Governor. The Board was, however, in the 1860s, re-imagined as the output of Davey. The Clerk of the Tasmanian House of Assembly, Hugh M. Hull, asserted that the Board was the work of Davey and not Arthur. Hull’s rationale for this, despite archival evidence connecting the Board to Frankland and, by extension, to Arthur, is predominantly anecdotal. In a letter to the editor of The Hobart Mercury, published 26 November 1874, Hull wrote: this curiosity was shown by me to the late Mrs Bateman, neé Pitt, a lady who arrived here in 1804, and with whom I went to school in 1822. She at once recognised it as one of a number prepared in 1816, under Governor Davey’s orders; and said she had seen one hanging on a gum tree at Cottage Green—now Battery Point. (3) Hull went on to assert that “if any old gentleman will look at the picture and remember the style of military and civil dress of 1810-15, he will find that Mrs Bateman was right” (3). Interestingly, Hull relies upon the recollections of a deceased school friend and the dress codes depicted by the artist to date the Proclamation Board as a product of 1816, in lieu of documentary evidence dating the Board as a product of 1828-1830. Curiously, the citation of dress can serve to undermine Hull’s argument. An early 1840s watercolour by Thomas Bock, of Mathinna, an Aboriginal child of Flinders Island adopted by Lieutenant Governor John Franklin (Felton online), features the young girl wearing a brightly coloured, high-waisted dress. This dress is very similar to the dresses worn by the children on the Proclamation Board (the difference being that Mathinna wears a red dress with a contrasting waistband, the children on the Board wear plain yellow dresses) (Bock). Acknowledging the simplicity of children's clothing during the colonial era, it could still be argued that it would have been unlikely the Governor of the day would have placed a child, enjoying at that time a life of privilege, in a situation where she sat for a portrait wearing an old-fashioned garment. So effective was Hull’s re-imagining of the Board’s creator that the Board was, for many years, popularly known as Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines with even the date modified, to 1816, to fit Davey’s term of office. Further, it is worth noting that catalogue records acknowledge the error of attribution and list both Davey and Arthur as men connected to the creation of the Proclamation Board. A Surviving Board: Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales One of the surviving Proclamation Boards is held by the Mitchell Library. The Boards, oil on Huon pine, were painted by “convict artists incarcerated in the island penal colony” (Carroll 73). The work was mass produced (by the standards of mass production of the day) by pouncing, “a technique [of the Italian Renaissance] of pricking the contours of a drawing with a pin. Charcoal was then dusted on to the drawing” (Carroll 75-76). The images, once outlined, were painted in oil. Of approximately 100 Boards made, several survive today. There are seven known Boards within public collections (Gall 58): five in Australia (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, Sydney; Museum Victoria, Melbourne; National Library of Australia, Canberra; Tasmanian Museum and Art Gallery, Hobart; and Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery, Launceston); and two overseas (The Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, Harvard University and the Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, University of Cambridge). The catalogue record, for the Board held by the Mitchell Library, offers the following details:Paintings: 1 oil painting on Huon pine board, rectangular in shape with rounded corners and hole at top centre for suspension ; 35.7 x 22.6 x 1 cm. 4 scenes are depicted:Aborigines and white settlers in European dress mingling harmoniouslyAboriginal men and women, and an Aboriginal child approach Governor Arthur to shake hands while peaceful soldiers look onA hostile Aboriginal man spears a male white settler and is hanged by the military as Governor Arthur looks onA hostile white settler shoots an Aboriginal man and is hanged by the military as Governor Arthur looks on. (SAFE / R 247) The Mitchell Library Board was purchased from J.W. Beattie in May 1919 for £30 (Morris 86), which is approximately $2,200 today. Importantly, the title of the record notes both the popular attribution of the Board and the man who actually instigated the Board’s production: “Governor Davey’s [sic – actually Governor Arthur] Proclamation to the Aborigines, 1816 [sic – actually c. 1828-30].” The date of the Board is still a cause of some speculation. The earlier date, 1828, marks the declaration of martial law (Turnbull 94) and 1830 marks the Black Line (Edmonds 215); the attempt to form a human line of white men to force many Tasmanian Aboriginals, four of the nine nations, onto the Tasman Peninsula (Ryan 3). Frankland’s suggestion for the Board was put forward on 4 February 1829, with Arthur’s official Conciliator to the Aborigines, G.A. Robinson, recording his first sighting of a Board on 24 December 1829 (Morris 84-85). Thus, the conception of the Board may have been in 1828 but the Proclamation project was not fully realised until 1830. Indeed, a news item on the Proclamation Board did appear in the popular press, but not until 5 March 1830: We are informed that the Government have given directions for the painting of a large number of pictures to be placed in the bush for the contemplation of the Aboriginal Inhabitants. […] However […] the causes of their hostility must be more deeply probed, or their taste as connoisseurs in paintings more clearly established, ere we can look for any beneficial result from this measure. (Colonial Times 2) The remark made in relation to becoming a connoisseur of painting, though intended to be derogatory, makes some sense. There was an assumption that the Indigenous peoples could easily translate a European-styled execution by hanging, as a visual metaphor for all forms of punishment. It has long been understood that Indigenous “social organisation and religious and ceremonial life were often as complex as those of the white invaders” (McCulloch 261). However, the Proclamation Board was, in every sense, Eurocentric and made no attempt to acknowledge the complexities of Aboriginal culture. It was, quite simply, never going to be an effective tool of communication, nor achieve its socio-legal aims. The Board Re-imagined: Popular Media The re-imagining of the Proclamation Board as a construct of Governor Davey, instead of Governor Arthur, is just one of many re-imaginings of this curious object. There are, of course, the various imaginings of the purpose of the Board. On the surface these images are a tool for reconciliation but as “the story of these paintings unfolds […] it becomes clear that the proclamations were in effect envoys sent back to Britain to exhibit the ingenious attempts being applied to civilise Australia” (Carroll 76). In this way the Board was re-imagined by the Administration that funded the exercise, even before the project was completed, from a mechanism to assist in the bringing about of peace into an object that would impress colonial superiors. Khadija von Zinnenburg Carroll has recently written about the Boards in the context of their “transnational circulation” and how “objects become subjects and speak of their past through the ventriloquism of contemporary art history” (75). Carroll argues the Board is an item that couples “military strategy with a fine arts propaganda campaign” (Carroll 78). Critically the Boards never achieved their advertised purpose for, as Carroll explains, there were “elaborate rituals Aboriginal Australians had for the dead” and, therefore, “the display of a dead, hanging body is unthinkable. […] being exposed to the sight of a hanged man must have been experienced as an unimaginable act of disrespect” (92). The Proclamation Board would, in sharp contrast to feelings of unimaginable disrespect, inspire feelings of pride across the colonial population. An example of this pride being revealed in the selection of the Board as an object worthy of reproduction, as a lithograph, for an Intercolonial Exhibition, held in Melbourne in 1866 (Morris 84). The lithograph, which identifies the Board as Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines and dated 1816, was listed as item 572, of 738 items submitted by Tasmania, for the event (The Commissioners 69-85). This type of reproduction, or re-imagining, of the Board would not be an isolated event. Penelope Edmonds has described the Board as producing a “visual vernacular” through a range of derivatives including lantern slides, lithographs, and postcards. These types of tourist ephemera are in addition to efforts to produce unique re-workings of the Board as seen in Violet Mace’s Proclamation glazed earthernware, which includes a jug (1928) and a pottery cup (1934) (Edmonds online). The Board Re-imagined: A True Crime Tale The Proclamation Board offers numerous narratives. There is the story that the Board was designed and deployed to communicate. There is the story behind the Board. There is also the story of the credit for the initiative which was transferred from Governor Arthur to Governor Davey and subsequently returned to Arthur. There are, too, the provenance stories of individual Boards. There is another story the Proclamation Board offers. The story of true crime in colonial Australia. The Board, as noted, presents through a four-strip pictogram an idea that all are equal under the rule of law (Arthur 1). Advocating for a society of equals was a duplicitous practice, for while Aborigines were hanged for allegedly murdering settlers, “there is no record of whites being charged, let alone punished, for murdering Aborigines” (Morris 84). It would not be until 1838 that white men would be punished for the murder of Aboriginal people (on the mainland) in the wake of the Myall Creek Massacre, in northern New South Wales. There were other examples of attempts to bring about a greater equity under the rule of law but, as Amanda Nettelbeck explains, there was wide-spread resistance to the investigation and charging of colonists for crimes against the Indigenous population with cases regularly not going to trial, or, if making a courtroom, resulting in an acquittal (355-59). That such cases rested on “legally inadmissible Aboriginal testimony” (Reece in Nettelbeck 358) propped up a justice system that was, inherently, unjust in the nineteenth century. It is important to note that commentators at the time did allude to the crime narrative of the Board: when in the most civilized country in the world it has been found ineffective as example to hang murderers in chains, it is not to be expected a savage race will be influenced by the milder exhibition of effigy and caricature. (Colonial Times 2) It is argued here that the Board was much more than an offering of effigy and caricature. The Proclamation Board presents, in striking detail, the formula for the modern true crime tale: a peace disturbed by the act of murder; and the ensuing search for, and delivery of, justice. Reinforcing this point, are the ideas of justice seen within crime fiction, a genre that focuses on the restoration of order out of chaos (James 174), are made visible here as aspirational. The true crime tale does not, consistently, offer the reassurances found within crime fiction. In the real world, particularly one as violent as colonial Australia, we are forced to acknowledge that, below the surface of the official rhetoric on justice and crime, the guilty often go free and the innocent are sometimes hanged. Another point of note is that, if the latter date offered here, of 1830, is taken as the official date of the production of these Boards, then the significance of the Proclamation Board as a true crime tale is even more pronounced through a connection to crime fiction (both genres sharing a common literary heritage). The year 1830 marks the release of Australia’s first novel, Quintus Servinton written by convicted forger Henry Savery, a crime novel (produced in three volumes) published by Henry Melville of Hobart Town. Thus, this paper suggests, 1830 can be posited as a year that witnessed the production of two significant cultural artefacts, the Proclamation Board and the nation’s first full-length literary work, as also being the year that established the, now indomitable, traditions of true crime and crime fiction in Australia. Conclusion During the late 1820s in Van Diemen’s Land (now Tasmania) a set of approximately 100 Proclamation Boards were produced by the Lieutenant Governor of the day, George Arthur. The official purpose of these items was to communicate, to the Indigenous peoples of the island colony, that all—black and white—were equal under the law. Murderers, be they Aboriginal or colonist, would be punished. The Board is a re-imagining of one of the traditional methods of communication for Indigenous peoples; the leaving of drawings on the bark of trees. The Board was, in the 1860s, in time for an Intercolonial Exhibition, re-imagined as the output of Lieutenant Governor Davey. This re-imagining of the Board was so effective that surviving artefacts, today, are popularly known as Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines with the date modified, to 1816, to fit the new narrative. The Proclamation Board was also reimagined, by its creators and consumers, in a variety of ways: as peace offering; military propaganda; exhibition object; tourism ephemera; and contemporary art. This paper has also, briefly, offered another re-imagining of the Board, positing that this early “pamphlet” on justice and punishment actually presents a pre-cursor to the modern Australian true crime tale. The Proclamation Board tells many stories but, at the core of this curious object, is a crime story: the story of mass murder. Acknowledgements The author acknowledges the Palawa peoples: the traditional custodians of the lands known today as Tasmania. The author acknowledges, too, the Gadigal people of the Eora nation upon whose lands this paper was researched and written. The author extends thanks to Richard Neville, Margot Riley, Kirsten Thorpe, and Justine Wilson of the State Library of New South Wales for sharing their knowledge and offering their support. The author is also grateful to the reviewers for their careful reading of the manuscript and for making valuable suggestions. ReferencesAboriginal Heritage Tasmania. “Scarred Trees.” Aboriginal Cultural Heritage, 2012. 12 Sep. 2015 ‹http://www.aboriginalheritage.tas.gov.au/aboriginal-cultural-heritage/archaeological-site-types/scarred-trees›.Arthur, George. “Proclamation.” The Hobart Town Courier 19 Apr. 1828: 1.———. Governor Davey’s [sic – actually Governor Arthur’s] Proclamation to the Aborigines, 1816 [sic – actually c. 1828-30]. Graphic Materials. Sydney: Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, c. 1828-30.Bock, Thomas. Mathinna. Watercolour and Gouache on Paper. 23 x 19 cm (oval), c. 1840.Carroll, Khadija von Zinnenburg. Art in the Time of Colony: Empires and the Making of the Modern World, 1650-2000. Farnham, UK: Ashgate Publishing, 2014.Clark, Manning. History of Australia. Abridged by Michael Cathcart. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press, 1997 [1993]. Clements, Nicholas. The Black War: Fear, Sex and Resistance in Tasmania. St Lucia, Qld.: U of Queensland P, 2014.Colonial Times. “Hobart Town.” Colonial Times 5 Mar. 1830: 2.The Commissioners. Intercolonial Exhibition Official Catalogue. 2nd ed. Melbourne: Blundell & Ford, 1866.Darian-Smith, Kate, and Penelope Edmonds. “Conciliation on Colonial Frontiers.” Conciliation on Colonial Frontiers: Conflict, Performance and Commemoration in Australia and the Pacific Rim. Eds. Kate Darian-Smith and Penelope Edmonds. New York: Routledge, 2015. 1–14. Edmonds, Penelope. “‘Failing in Every Endeavour to Conciliate’: Governor Arthur’s Proclamation Boards to the Aborigines, Australian Conciliation Narratives and Their Transnational Connections.” Journal of Australian Studies 35.2 (2011): 201–18.———. “The Proclamation Cup: Tasmanian Potter Violet Mace and Colonial Quotations.” reCollections 5.2 (2010). 20 May 2015 ‹http://recollections.nma.gov.au/issues/vol_5_no_2/papers/the_proclamation_cup_›.Felton, Heather. “Mathinna.” Companion to Tasmanian History. Hobart: Centre for Tasmanian Historical Studies, University of Tasmania, 2006. 29 Sep. 2015 ‹http://www.utas.edu.au/library/companion_to_tasmanian_history/M/Mathinna.htm›.Gall, Jennifer. Library of Dreams: Treasures from the National Library of Australia. Canberra: National Library of Australia, 2011.Hull, Hugh M. “Tasmanian Hieroglyphics.” The Hobart Mercury 26 Nov. 1874: 3.James, P.D. Talking about Detective Fiction. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2009.Mace, Violet. Violet Mace’s Proclamation Jug. Glazed Earthernware. Launceston: Queen Victoria Museum and Art Gallery, 1928.———. Violet Mace’s Proclamation Cup. Glazed Earthernware. Canberra: National Museum of Australia, 1934.McCulloch, Samuel Clyde. “Sir George Gipps and Eastern Australia’s Policy toward the Aborigine, 1838-46.” The Journal of Modern History 33.3 (1961): 261–69.Morris, John. “Notes on a Message to the Tasmanian Aborigines in 1829, popularly called ‘Governor Davey’s Proclamation to the Aborigines, 1816’.” Australiana 10.3 (1988): 84–7.Nettelbeck, Amanda. “‘Equals of the White Man’: Prosecution of Settlers for Violence against Aboriginal Subjects of the Crown, Colonial Western Australia.” Law and History Review 31.2 (2013): 355–90.Newman, Terry. “Tasmania, the Name.” Companion to Tasmanian History, 2006. 16 Sep. 2015 ‹http://www.utas.edu.au/library/companion_to_tasmanian_history/T/Tasmania%20name.htm›.Reece, Robert H.W., in Amanda Nettelbeck. “‘Equals of the White Man’: Prosecution of Settlers for Violence against Aboriginal Subjects of the Crown, Colonial Western Australia.” Law and History Review 31.2 (2013): 355–90.Ryan, Lyndall. “The Black Line in Van Diemen’s Land: Success or Failure?” Journal of Australian Studies 37.1 (2013): 3–18.Savery, Henry. 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Abstract Background Indigenous populations globally have a higher burden of cardiovascular disease and increased mortality after acute coronary events, partly due to inequitable access to specialised care like cardiac catheterisation. Gender differences in revascularisation rates have been well described in non-Indigenous patients. Whether this applies to Indigenous patients when cardiac catheterisation facilities are readily available is unclear. Purpose We compared the rates of percutaneous coronary intervention (PCI), cardiac surgery, 30-day and long-term all-cause mortality in Indigenous (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders) patients in Far North Queensland (FNQ) – a region with a large Indigenous population and 24/7 cardiac catheterisation facilities. Method All patients who presented to the tertiary referral center for FNQ, for their first inpatient angiogram between November 2012 and October 2019 were identified. The primary study outcomes were rates of PCI or cardiac surgery and all-cause mortality measured at 30 days and long term. Secondary study outcomes were significant left ventricular dysfunction (ejection fraction &lt;50%) and valvular disease (moderate to severe) in patients who had an echocardiogram. Other differences in baseline characteristics, including age, gender, body mass index, postcode and indication for angiography were accounted for using logistic and cox regression analysis. Results 1042 patients (mean age 53.7±11.6 years, 45.5% female, median follow-up 1092 days) self-identified as Indigenous. Indigenous women were older 54.8±11.4 vs 52.8±11.7 years, p=0.005 and had different angiography indications. For Indigenous women and men respectively, rates of ST elevation myocardial infarction (STEMI) were 14.6% vs 22.9%, non-STEMI 44.3% vs 46.8%, angina 32.7% vs 21.0%, cardiac arrest 2.7% vs 3.3% and other 5.7% vs 6.0%, p&lt;0.001. Indigenous women had significantly lower rates of PCI or cardiac surgery, 40.5% vs 60.7%, p&lt;0.001, but similar 30-day mortality, 1.5% vs 2.3% p=0.34 and long-term all-cause mortality rates 11.2% vs 10.9%, p=0.89, in unadjusted data. 685 patients (mean age 53.8±11.5 years, 45.5% female) were included in the echocardiogram subgroup. Indigenous women had significantly more valvular disease, 23.3% vs 16.3%, p=0.022 but similar rates of left ventricular dysfunction, 30.2% vs 35.8%, p=0.12. Following adjustment for other baseline characteristics female gender independently predicted lower rates of PCI or cardiac surgery, OR 0.49 (95% CI 0.38–0.64) and higher rates of valvular disease, OR 1.60 (95% CI 1.07–2.39). Rates of ventricular dysfunction, 30-day and long-term all-cause mortality were similar. Conclusions Indigenous women had significantly different indications for angiography, lower rates of PCI or cardiac surgery and higher rates of clinically significant valvular disease despite presenting in gender ratios similar to the general population in FNQ. Funding Acknowledgement Type of funding source: None

Abstract Background Indigenous populations globally are known to have lower revascularisation rates following acute coronary events and higher mortality partly due to inequitable access to specialised care like cardiac catheterisation. Whether these disparities persist when access is readily available is unclear. Purpose We compared the rates of percutaneous coronary intervention (PCI), cardiac surgery, 30-day and long-term all-cause mortality in Indigenous (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders) and non-Indigenous Australians in Far North Queensland (FNQ) – a region with a large Indigenous population and 24/7 cardiac catheterisation facilities. Method All public patients in FNQ having their first inpatient angiogram from November 2012 to October 2019 were identified. The primary study outcomes were rates of PCI or cardiac surgery and all-cause mortality at 30 days and long term. Secondary study outcomes were significant left ventricular dysfunction (ejection fraction &lt;50%) and valvular disease (moderate to severe) in the echocardiogram subset. Other differences in baseline characteristics, including age, gender, body mass index, postcode and indication for angiography were accounted for using logistic and cox regression analysis. Results We identified 4489 patients (mean age, 61.7±13.0 years, 64.9% male, median follow-up 1045 days). 1042 (23.2%) self-identified as Indigenous. Indigenous patients were younger (53.7±11.6 vs 64.1±12.5 years, p&lt;0.001), more likely female (45.5% vs 32.0%, p&lt;0.001) and had small differences in angiography indications, ST elevation myocardial infarction (STEMI) 19.1% vs 18.1%, non-STEMI 45.7% vs 41.8%, angina 26.3% vs 28.0%, cardiac arrest 3.1% vs 3.7% and other 5.8% vs 8.4%, p=0.02. Rates of PCI or surgery 35.6% vs 38.5%, p=0.17, 30-day mortality 1.9% vs 2.7%, p=0.17 and long-term mortality 11.0% vs 11.5%, p=0.71 were similar in unadjusted data. 2959 patients (mean age, 62.1±13.0 years, 23.1% Indigenous, 64.9% male) were included in the echocardiogram subgroup. In unadjusted data Indigenous patients had similar rates of ventricular dysfunction 33.3% vs 31.3%, p=0.33 and valvular disease 19.4% vs 19.3%, p=0.93. After adjustment for other baseline characteristics, Indigenous patients had higher rates of PCI or cardiac surgery, OR 1.39 (95% CI, 1.18–1.64, p&lt;0.001), ventricular dysfunction, OR 1.31 (95% CI, 1.07–1.60), p=0.01 and valvular disease, OR 1.93 (95% CI, 1.50–2.48), p&lt;0.001. 30-day mortality was similar but Indigenous patients had higher adjusted long-term hazard of mortality, HR 1.80 (95% CI, 1.42–2.27), p&lt;0.001. Conclusion When cardiac catheterisation was readily available Indigenous patients had higher rates of PCI and cardiac surgery and similar 30-day mortality to non-Indigenous patients. Equitable access to healthcare improves outcomes but the nearly double long-term mortality of Indigenous patients shows more is required to help close the gap for disadvantaged populations. Funding Acknowledgement Type of funding source: None

Each community’s title deed carries the indelible blood stains of our ancestors. (Watson, "Howard’s End" 2)IntroductionAccording to the Oxford English Dictionary, the term coalition comes from the Latin coalescere or ‘coalesce’, meaning “come or bring together to form one mass or whole”. Coalesce refers to the unity affirmed as something grows: co – “together”, alesce – “to grow up”. While coalition is commonly associated with formalised alliances and political strategy in the name of self-interest and common goals, this paper will draw as well on the broader etymological understanding of coalition as “growing together” in order to discuss the Australian government’s recent changes to land rights legislation, the 2007 Emergency Intervention into the Northern Territory, and its decision to use Indigenous land in the Northern Territory as a dumping ground for nuclear waste. What unites these distinct cases is the role of the Australian nation-state in asserting its sovereign right to decide, something Giorgio Agamben notes is the primary indicator of sovereign right and power (Agamben). As Fiona McAllan has argued in relation to the Northern Territory Intervention: “Various forces that had been coalescing and captivating the moral, imaginary centre were now contributing to a spectacular enactment of a sovereign rescue mission” (par. 18). Different visions of “growing together”, and different coalitional strategies, are played out in public debate and policy formation. This paper will argue that each of these cases represents an alliance between successive, oppositional governments - and the nourishment of neoliberal imperatives - over and against the interests of some of the Indigenous communities, especially with relation to land rights. A critical stance is taken in relation to the alterations to land rights laws over the past five years and with the Northern Territory Emergency Intervention, hereinafter referred to as the Intervention, firstly by the Howard Liberal Coalition Government and later continued, in what Anthony Lambert has usefully termed a “postcoalitional” fashion, by the Rudd Labor Government. By this, Lambert refers to the manner in which dominant relations of power continue despite the apparent collapse of old political coalitions and even in the face of seemingly progressive symbolic and material change. It is not the intention of this paper to locate Indigenous people in opposition to models of economic development aligned with neoliberalism. There are examples of productive relations between Indigenous communities and mining companies, in which Indigenous people retain control over decision-making and utilise Land Council’s to negotiate effectively. Major mining company Rio Tinto, for example, initiated an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders Policy platform in the mid-1990s (Rio Tinto). Moreover, there are diverse perspectives within the Indigenous community regarding social and economic reform governed by neoliberal agendas as well as government initiatives such as the Intervention, motivated by a concern for the abuse of children, as outlined in The Little Children Are Sacred Report (Wild & Anderson; hereinafter Little Children). Indeed, there is no agreement on whether or not the Intervention had anything to do with land rights. On the one hand, Noel Pearson has strongly opposed this assertion: “I've got as much objections as anybody to the ideological prejudices of the Howard Government in relation to land, but this question is not about a 'land grab'. The Anderson Wild Report tells us about the scale of Aboriginal children's neglect and abuse" (ABC). Marcia Langton has agreed with this stating that “There's a cynical view afoot that the emergency intervention was a political ploy - a Trojan Horse - to sneak through land grabs and some gratuitous black head-kicking disguised as concern for children. These conspiracy theories abound, and they are mostly ridiculous” (Langton). Patrick Dodson on the other hand, has argued that yes, of course, the children remain the highest priority, but that this “is undermined by the Government's heavy-handed authoritarian intervention and its ideological and deceptive land reform agenda” (Dodson). WhitenessOne way to frame this issue is to look at it through the lens of critical race and whiteness theory. Is it possible that the interests of whiteness are at play in the coalitions of corporate/private enterprise and political interests in the Northern Territory, in the coupling of social conservatism and economic rationalism? Using this framework allows us to identify the partial interests at play and the implications of this for discussions in Australia around sovereignty and self-determination, as well as providing a discursive framework through which to understand how these coalitional interests represent a specific understanding of progress, growth and development. Whiteness theory takes an empirically informed stance in order to critique the operation of unequal power relations and discriminatory practices imbued in racialised structures. Whiteness and critical race theory take the twin interests of racial privileging and racial discrimination and discuss their historical and on-going relevance for law, philosophy, representation, media, politics and policy. Foregrounding contemporary analysis in whiteness studies is the central role of race in the development of the Australian nation, most evident in the dispossession and destruction of Indigenous lands, cultures and lives, which occurred initially prior to Federation, as well as following. Cheryl Harris’s landmark paper “Whiteness as Property” argues, in the context of the US, that “the origins of property rights ... are rooted in racial domination” and that the “interaction between conceptions of race and property ... played a critical role in establishing and maintaining racial and economic subordination” (Harris 1716).Reiterating the logic of racial inferiority and the assumption of a lack of rationality and civility, Indigenous people were named in the Australian Constitution as “flora and fauna” – which was not overturned until a national referendum in 1967. This, coupled with the logic of terra nullius represents the racist foundational logic of Australian statehood. As is well known, terra nullius declared that the land belonged to no-one, denying Indigenous people property rights over land. Whiteness, Moreton-Robinson contends, “is constitutive of the epistemology of the West; it is an invisible regime of power that secures hegemony through discourse and has material effects in everyday life” (Whiteness 75).In addition to analysing racial power structures, critical race theory has presented studies into the link between race, whiteness and neoliberalism. Roberts and Mahtami argue that it is not just that neoliberalism has racialised effects, rather that neoliberalism and its underlying philosophy is “fundamentally raced and produces racialized bodies” (248; also see Goldberg Threat). The effect of the free market on state sovereignty has been hotly debated too. Aihwa Ong contends that neoliberalism produces particular relationships between the state and non-state corporations, as well as determining the role of individuals within the body-politic. Ong specifies:Market-driven logic induces the co-ordination of political policies with the corporate interests, so that developmental discussions favour the fragmentation of the national space into various contiguous zones, and promote the differential regulation of the populations who can be connected to or disconnected from global circuits of capital. (Ong, Neoliberalism 77)So how is whiteness relevant to a discussion of land reform, and to the changes to land rights passed along with Intervention legislation in 2007? Irene Watson cites the former Minister for Indigenous Affairs, Mal Brough, who opposed the progressive individual with what he termed the “failed collective.” Watson asserts that in the debates around land leasing and the Intervention, “Aboriginal law and traditional roles and responsibilities for caring and belonging to country are transformed into the cause for community violence” (Sovereign Spaces 34). The effects of this, I will argue, are twofold and move beyond a moral or social agenda in the strictest sense of the terms: firstly to promote, and make more accessible, the possibility of private and government coalitions in relation to Indigenous lands, and secondly, to reinforce the sovereignty of the state, recognised in the capacity to make decisions. It is here that the explicit reiteration of what Aileen Moreton-Robinson calls “white possession” is clearly evidenced (The Possessive Logic). Sovereign Interventions In the Northern Territory 50% of land is owned by Indigenous people under the Aboriginal Land Rights Act 1976 (ALRA) (NT). This law gives Indigenous people control, mediated via land councils, over their lands. It is the contention of this paper that the rights enabled through this law have been eroded in recent times in the coalescing interests of government and private enterprise via, broadly, land rights reform measures. In August 2007 the government passed a number of laws that overturned aspects of the Racial Discrimination Act 197 5(RDA), including the Northern Territory National Emergency Response Bill 2007 and the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Amendment (Township Leasing) Bill 2007. Ostensibly these laws were a response to evidence of alarming levels of child abuse in remote Indigenous communities, which has been compiled in the special report Little Children, co-chaired by Rex Wild QC and Patricia Anderson. This report argued that urgent but culturally appropriate strategies were required in order to assist the local communities in tackling the issues. The recommendations of the report did not include military intervention, and instead prioritised the need to support and work in dialogue with local Indigenous people and organisations who were already attempting, with extremely limited resources, to challenge the problem. Specifically it stated that:The thrust of our recommendations, which are designed to advise the NT government on how it can help support communities to effectively prevent and tackle child sexual abuse, is for there to be consultation with, and ownership by the local communities, of these solutions. (Wild & Anderson 23) Instead, the Federal Coalition government, with support from the opposition Labor Party, initiated a large scale intervention, which included the deployment of the military, to install order and assist medical personnel to carry out compulsory health checks on minors. The intervention affected 73 communities with populations of over 200 Aboriginal men, women and children (Altman, Neo-Paternalism 8). The reality of high levels of domestic and sexual abuse in Indigenous communities requires urgent and diligent attention, but it is not the space of this paper to unpack the media spectacle or the politically determined response to these serious issues, or the considered and careful reports such as the one cited above. While the report specifies the need for local solutions and local control of the process and decision-making, the Federal Liberal Coalition government’s intervention, and the current Labor government’s faithfulness to these, has been centralised and external, imposed upon communities. Rebecca Stringer argues that the Trojan horse thesis indicates what is at stake in this Intervention, while also pinpointing its main weakness. That is, the counter-intuitive links its architects make between addressing child sexual abuse and re-litigating Indigenous land tenure and governance arrangements in a manner that undermines Aboriginal sovereignty and further opens Aboriginal lands to private interests among the mining, nuclear power, tourism, property development and labour brokerage industries. (par. 8)Alongside welfare quarantining for all Indigenous people, was a decision by parliament to overturn the “permit system”, a legal protocol provided by the ALRA and in place so as to enable Indigenous peoples the right to refuse and grant entry to strangers wanting to access their lands. To place this in a broader context of land rights reform, the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act 2006, created the possibility of 99 year individual leases, at the expense of communal ownership. The legislation operates as a way of individualising the land arrangements in remote Indigenous communities by opening communal land up as private plots able to be bought by Aboriginal people or any other interested party. Indeed, according to Leon Terrill, land reform in Australia over the past 10 years reflects an attempt to return control of decision-making to government bureaucracy, even as governments have downplayed this aspect. Terrill argues that Township Leasing (enabled via the 2006 legislation), takes “wholesale decision-making about land use” away from Traditional Owners and instead places it in the hands of a government entity called the Executive Director of Township Leasing (3). With the passage of legislation around the Intervention, five year leases were created to enable the Commonwealth “administrative control” over the communities affected (Terrill 3). Finally, under the current changes it is unlikely that more than a small percentage of Aboriginal people will be able to access individual land leasing. Moreover, the argument has been presented that these reforms reflect a broader project aimed at replacing communal land ownership arrangements. This agenda has been justified at a rhetorical level via the demonization of communal land ownership arrangements. Helen Hughes and Jenness Warin, researchers at the rightwing think-tank, the Centre for Independent Studies (CIS), released a report entitled A New Deal for Aborigines and Torres Strait Islanders in Remote Communities, in which they argue that there is a direct casual link between communal ownership and economic underdevelopment: “Communal ownership of land, royalties and other resources is the principle cause of the lack of economic development in remote areas” (in Norberry & Gardiner-Garden 8). In 2005, then Prime Minister, John Howard, publicly introduced the government’s ambition to alter the structure of Indigenous land arrangements, couching his agenda in the language of “equal opportunity”. I believe there’s a case for reviewing the whole issue of Aboriginal land title in the sense of looking more towards private recognition …, I’m talking about giving them the same opportunities as the rest of their fellow Australians. (Watson, "Howard’s End" 1)Scholars of critical race theory have argued that the language of equality, usually tied to liberalism (though not always) masks racial inequality and even results in “camouflaged racism” (Davis 61). David Theo Goldberg notes that, “the racial status-quo - racial exclusions and privileges favouring for the most part middle - and upper class whites - is maintained by formalising equality through states of legal and administrative science” (Racial State 222). While Howard and his coalition of supporters have associated communal title with disadvantage and called for the equality to be found in individual leases (Dodson), Altman has argued that there is no logical link between forms of communal land ownership and incidences of sexual abuse, and indeed, the government’s use of sexual abuse disingenuously disguises it’s imperative to alter the land ownership arrangements: “Given the proposed changes to the ALRA are in no way associated with child sexual abuse in Aboriginal communities […] there is therefore no pressing urgency to pass the amendments.” (Altman National Emergency, 3) In the case of the Intervention, land rights reforms have affected the continued dispossession of Indigenous people in the interests of “commercial development” (Altman Neo-Paternalism 8). In light of this it can be argued that what is occurring conforms to what Aileen Moreton-Robinson has highlighted as the “possessive logic of patriarchal white sovereignty” (Possessive Logic). White sovereignty, under the banner of benevolent paternalism overturns the authority it has conceded to local Indigenous communities. This is realised via township leases, five year leases, housing leases and other measures, stripping them of the right to refuse the government and private enterprise entry into their lands (effectively the right of control and decision-making), and opening them up to, as Stringer argues, a range of commercial and government interests. Future Concerns and Concluding NotesThe etymological root of coalition is coalesce, inferring the broad ambition to “grow together”. In the issues outlined above, growing together is dominated by neoliberal interests, or what Stringer has termed “assimilatory neoliberation”. The issue extends beyond a social and economic assimilationism project and into a political and legal “land grab”, because, as Ong notes, the neoliberal agenda aligns itself with the nation-state. This coalitional arrangement of neoliberal and governmental interests reiterates “white possession” (Moreton-Robinson, The Possessive Logic). This is evidenced in the position of the current Labor government decision to uphold the nomination of Muckaty as a radioactive waste repository site in Australia (Stokes). In 2007, the Northern Land Council (NLC) nominated Muckaty Station to be the site for waste disposal. This decision cannot be read outside the context of Maralinga, in the South Australian desert, a site where experiments involving nuclear technology were conducted in the 1960s. As John Keane recounts, the Australian government permitted the British government to conduct tests, dispossessing the local Aboriginal group, the Tjarutja, and employing a single patrol officer “the job of monitoring the movements of the Aborigines and quarantining them in settlements” (Keane). Situated within this historical colonial context, in 2006, under a John Howard led Liberal Coalition, the government passed the Commonwealth Radioactive Waste Management Act (CRWMA), a law which effectively overrode the rulings of the Northern Territory government in relation decisions regarding nuclear waste disposal, as well as overriding the rights of traditional Aboriginal owners and the validity of sacred sites. The Australian Labor government has sought to alter the CRWMA in order to reinstate the importance of following due process in the nomination process of land. However, it left the proposed site of Muckaty as confirmed, and the new bill, titled National Radioactive Waste Management retains many of the same characteristics of the Howard government legislation. In 2010, 57 traditional owners from Muckaty and surrounding areas signed a petition stating their opposition to the disposal site (the case is currently in the Federal Court). At a time when nuclear power has come back onto the radar as a possible solution to the energy crisis and climate change, questions concerning the investments of government and its loyalties should be asked. As Malcolm Knox has written “the nuclear industry has become evangelical about the dangers of global warming” (Knox). While nuclear is a “cleaner” energy than coal, until better methods are designed for processing its waste, larger amounts of it will be produced, requiring lands that can hold it for the desired timeframes. For Australia, this demands attention to the politics and ethics of waste disposal. Such an issue is already being played out, before nuclear has even been signed off as a solution to climate change, with the need to find a disposal site to accommodate already existing uranium exported to Europe and destined to return as waste to Australia in 2014. The decision to go ahead with Muckaty against the wishes of the voices of local Indigenous people may open the way for the co-opting of a discourse of environmentalism by political and business groups to promote the development and expansion of nuclear power as an alternative to coal and oil for energy production; dumping waste on Indigenous lands becomes part of the solution to climate change. During the 2010 Australian election, Greens Leader Bob Brown played upon the word coalition to suggest that the Liberal National Party were in COALition with the mining industry over the proposed Mining Tax – the Liberal Coalition opposed any mining tax (Brown). Here Brown highlights the alliance of political agendas and business or corporate interests quite succinctly. Like Brown’s COALition, will government (of either major party) form a coalition with the nuclear power stakeholders?This paper has attempted to bring to light what Dodson has identified as “an alliance of established conservative forces...with more recent and strident ideological thinking associated with free market economics and notions of individual responsibility” and the implications of this alliance for land rights (Dodson). It is important to ask critical questions about the vision of “growing together” being promoted via the coalition of conservative, neoliberal, private and government interests.Acknowledgements Many thanks to the reviewers of this article for their useful suggestions. ReferencesAustralian Broadcasting Authority. “Noel Pearson Discusses the Issues Faced by Indigenous Communities.” Lateline 26 June 2007. 22 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.abc.net.au/lateline/content/2007/s1962844.htm>. Agamben, Giorgio. Homo Sacer. Stanford, California: Stanford University Press, 1998. Altman, Jon. “The ‘National Emergency’ and Land Rights Reform: Separating Fact from Fiction.” A Briefing Paper for Oxfam Australia, 2007. 1 Aug. 2010 ‹http://www.oxfam.org.au/resources/filestore/originals/OAus-EmergencyLandRights-0807.pdf>. Altman, Jon. “The Howard Government’s Northern Territory Intervention: Are Neo-Paternalism and Indigenous Development Compatible?” Centre for Aboriginal Economic Policy Research Topical Issue 16 (2007). 1 Aug. 2010 ‹http://caepr.anu.edu.au/system/files/Publications/topical/Altman_AIATSIS.pdf>. Brown, Bob. “Senator Bob Brown National Pre-Election Press Club Address.” 2010. 18 Aug. 2010 ‹http://greens.org.au/content/senator-bob-brown-pre-election-national-press-club-address>. Davis, Angela. The Angela Davis Reader. Ed. J. James, Oxford: Blackwell, 1998. Dodson, Patrick. “An Entire Culture Is at Stake.” Opinion. The Age, 14 July 2007: 4. Goldberg, David Theo. The Racial State. Massachusetts: Blackwell, 2002.———. The Threat of Race: Reflections on Neoliberalism. Massachusetts: Blackwell, 2008. Harris, Cheryl. “Whiteness as Property.” Harvard Law Review 106.8 (1993): 1709-1795. Keane, John. “Maralinga’s Afterlife.” Feature Article. The Age, 11 May 2003. 24 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.theage.com.au/articles/2003/05/11/1052280486255.html>. Knox, Malcolm. “Nuclear Dawn.” The Monthly 56 (May 2010). Lambert, Anthony. “Rainbow Blindness: Same-Sex Partnerships in Post-Coalitional Australia.” M/C Journal 13.6 (2010). Langton, Marcia. “It’s Time to Stop Playing Politics with Vulnerable Lives.” Opinion. Sydney Morning Herald, 30 Nov. 2007: 2. McAllan, Fiona. “Customary Appropriations.” borderlands ejournal 6.3 (2007). 22 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol6no3_2007/mcallan_appropriations.htm>. Moreton-Robinson, Aileen. “The Possessive Logic of Patriarchal White Sovereignty: The High Court and the Yorta Yorta Decision.” borderlands e-journal 3.2 (2004). 1 Aug. 2007 ‹http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol3no2_2004/moreton_possessive.htm>. ———. “Whiteness, Epistemology and Indigenous Representation.” Whitening Race. Ed. Aileen Moreton-Robinson. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies Press, 75-89. Norberry, J., and J. Gardiner-Garden. Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Amendment Bill 2006. Australian Parliamentary Library Bills Digest 158 (19 June 2006). Ong, Aihwa. Neoliberalism as Exception: Mutations in Citizenship and Sovereignty. Durham: Duke University Press, 2006. 75-97.Oxford English Dictionary. 3rd. ed. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2005. Rio Tinto. "Rio Tinto Aboriginal Policy and Programme Briefing Note." June 2007. 22 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.aboriginalfund.riotinto.com/common/pdf/Aboriginal%20Policy%20and%20Programs%20-%20June%202007.pdf>. Roberts, David J., and Mielle Mahtami. “Neoliberalising Race, Racing Neoliberalism: Placing 'Race' in Neoliberal Discourses.” Antipode 42.2 (2010): 248-257. Stringer, Rebecca. “A Nightmare of the Neocolonial Kind: Politics of Suffering in Howard's Northern Territory Intervention.” borderlands ejournal 6.2 (2007). 22 Nov. 2010 ‹http://www.borderlands.net.au/vol6no2_2007/stringer_intervention.htm>.Stokes, Dianne. "Muckaty." n.d. 1 Aug. 2010 ‹http://www.timbonham.com/slideshows/Muckaty/>. Terrill, Leon. “Indigenous Land Reform: What Is the Real Aim of Land Reform?” Edited version of a presentation provided at the 2010 National Native Title Conference, 2010. Watson, Irene. “Sovereign Spaces, Caring for Country and the Homeless Position of Aboriginal Peoples.” South Atlantic Quarterly 108.1 (2009): 27-51. Watson, Nicole. “Howard’s End: The Real Agenda behind the Proposed Review of Indigenous Land Titles.” Australian Indigenous Law Reporter 9.4 (2005). ‹http://www.austlii.edu.au/au/journals/AILR/2005/64.html>.Wild, R., and P. Anderson. Ampe Akelyernemane Meke Mekarie: The Little Children Are Sacred. Report of the Northern Territory Board of Inquiry into the Protection of Aboriginal Children from Sexual Abuse. Northern Territory: Northern Territory Government, 2007.

In a field of study as well-established as the Gothic, it is surprising how much contention there is over precisely what that term refers to. Is Gothic a genre, for example, or a mode? Should it be only applicable to literary and film texts that deal with tropes of haunting and trauma set in a gloomy atmosphere, or might it meaningfully be applied to other cultural forms of production, such as music or animation? Can television shows aimed at children be considered Gothic? What about food? When is something “Gothic” and when is it “horror”? Is there even a difference? The Gothic as a phenomenon is commonly identified as beginning with Horace Walpole’s novel The Castle of Otranto (1764), which was followed by Clara Reeve’s The Old English Baron (1778), the romances of Ann Radcliffe and Matthew Lewis’ The Monk (1796). Nineteenth-century Gothic literature was characterised by “penny dreadfuls” and novels such as Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818) and Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897). Frequently dismissed as sensational and escapist, the Gothic has experienced a critical revival in recent decades, beginning with the feminist revisionism of the 1970s by critics such as Ellen Moers, Sandra M. Gilbert and Susan Gubar. With the appearance of studies such as David Punter’s The Literature of Terror (1980), Gothic literature became a reputable field of scholarly research, with critics identifying suburban Gothic, imperial Gothic, postcolonial Gothic and numerous national Gothics, including Irish Gothic and the Gothic of the American South. Furthermore, as this special edition on Gothic shows, the Gothic is by no means limited to literature, with film, television, animation and music all partaking of the Gothic inflection. Indeed, it would be unwise to negate the ways in which the Gothic has developed to find fertile ground beyond the bounds of literature. In our media-centred twenty-first century, the Gothic has colonised different forms of expression, where the impact left by literary works, that were historically the centre of the Gothic itself, is all but a legacy. Film, in particular, has a close connection to the Gothic, where the works of, for instance, Tim Burton, have shown the representative potential of the Gothic mode; the visual medium of film, of course, has a certain experiential immediacy that marries successfully with the dark aesthetics of the Gothic, and its connections to representing cultural anxieties and desires (Botting). The analysis of Gothic cinema, in its various and extremely international incarnations, has now established itself as a distinct area of academic research, where prominent Gothic scholars such as Ken Gelder—with the recent publication of his New Vampire Cinema (2012)—continue to lead the way to advance Gothic scholarship outside of the traditional bounds of the literary.As far as cinema is concerned, one cannot negate the interconnections, both aesthetic and conceptual, between traditional Gothic representation and horror. Jerrold Hogle has clearly identified the mutation and transformation of the Gothic from a narrative solely based on “terror”, to one that incorporates elements of “horror” (Hogle 3). While the separation between the two has a long-standing history—and there is no denying that both the aesthetics and the politics of horror and the Gothic can be fundamentally different—one has to be attuned to the fact that, in our contemporary moment, the two often tend to merge and intersect, often forming hybrid visions of the Gothic, with cinematic examples such as Guillermo Del Toro’s Pan’s Labyrinth (2006) playing testament to this. Indeed, the newly formed representations of “Gothic Horror” and “Gothic Terror” alerts us to the mutable and malleable nature of the Gothic itself, an adaptable mode that is always contextually based. Film is not, however, the only non-literary medium that has incorporated elements of the Gothic over the years. Other visual representations of the Gothic abound in the worlds of television, animation, comics and graphic novels. One must only think here of the multiple examples of recent television series that have found fruitful connections with both the psychologically haunting aspects of Gothic terror, and the gory and grisly visual evocations of Gothic horror: the list is long and diverse, and includes Dexter (2006-2013), Hannibal (2013-), and Penny Dreadful (2014-), to mention but a few. The animation front —in its multiple in carnations —has similarly been entangled with Gothic tropes and concerns, a valid interconnection that is visible both in cinematic and television examples, from The Corpse Bride (2005) to Coraline (2009) and Frankenweeinie (2012). Comics and graphics also have a long-standing tradition of exploiting the dark aesthetics of the Gothic mode, and its sensationalist connections to horror; the instances from this list pervade the contemporary media scope, and feature the inclusion of Gothicised ambiences and characters in both singular graphic novels and continuous comics —such as the famous Arkham Asylum (1989) in the ever-popular Batman franchise. The inclusion of these multi-media examples here is only representative, and it is an almost prosaic accent in a list of Gothicised media that extends to great bounds, and also includes the worlds of games and music. The scholarship, for its part, has not failed to pick up on the transformations and metamorphoses that the Gothic mode has undergone in recent years. The place of both Gothic horror and Gothic terror in a multi-media context has been critically evaluated in detail, and continues to attract academic attention, as the development of the multi-genre and multi-medium journey of the Gothic unfolds. Indeed, this emphasis is now so widespread that a certain canonicity has developed for the study of the Gothic in media such as television, extending the reach of Gothic Studies into the wider popular culture scope. Critical texts that have recently focused on identifying the Gothic in media beyond not only literature, but also film, include Helen Wheatley’s Gothic Television (2007), John C. Tibbetts’ The Gothic Imagination: Conversation of Fantasy, Horror, and Science Fiction in the Media (2011), and Julia Round’s Gothic in Comics and Graphic Novels (2014). Critics often suggest that the Gothic returns at moments of particular cultural crisis, and if this is true, it seems as if we are in such a moment ourselves. Popular television shows such as True Blood and The Walking Dead, books such as the Twilight series, and the death-obsessed musical stylings of Lana Del Ray all point to the pertinence of the Gothic in contemporary culture, as does the amount of submissions received for this edition of M/C Journal, which explore a wide range of Gothic texts. Timothy Jones’ featured essay “The Black Mass as Play: Dennis Wheatley’s The Devil Rides Out” suggests that although scholarly approaches to the Gothic tend to adopt the methodologies used to approach literary texts and applied them to Gothic texts, yielding readings that are more-or-less congruous with readings of other sorts of literature, the Gothic can be considered as something that tells us about more than simply ourselves and the world we live in. For Jones, the fact that the Gothic is a production of popular culture as much as “highbrow” literature suggests there is something else happening with the way popular Gothic texts function. What if, Jones asks, the popular Gothic were not a type of work, but a kind of play? Jones uses this approach to suggest that texts such as Wheatley’s The Devil Rides Out might direct readers not primarily towards the real, but away from it, at least for a time. Wheatley’s novel is explored by Jones as a venue for readerly play, apart from the more substantial and “serious” concerns that occupy most literary criticism. Samantha Jane Lindop’s essay foregrounds the debt David Lynch’s film Mulholland Drive owes to J. Sheridan le Fanu’s Carmilla (1872) thus adding to studies of the film that have noted Lynch’s intertextual references to classic cinema such as Billy Wilder’s Sunset Boulevard (1950), Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo (1958) and Ingmar Bergman’s Persona (1966). Lindop explores not just the striking similarity between Carmilla and Mulholland Drive in terms of character and plot, but also the way that each text is profoundly concerned with the uncanny. Lorna Piatti-Farnell’s contribution, “What’s Hidden in Gravity Falls: Strange Creatures and the Gothic Intertext” is similarly interested in the intertextuality of the Gothic mode, noting that since its inception this has taken many and varied incarnations, from simple references and allusions to more complicated uses of style and plot organisation. Piatti-Farnell suggests it is unwise to reduce the Gothic text to a simple master narrative, but that within its re-elaborations and re-interpretations, interconnections do appear, forming “the Gothic intertext”. While the Gothic has traditionally found fertile ground in works of literature, other contemporary media, such as animation, have offered the Gothic an opportunity for growth and adaptation. Alex Hirsch’s Gravity Falls is explored by Piatti-Farnell as a visual text providing an example of intersecting monstrous creatures and interconnected narrative structures that reveal the presence of a dense and intertextual Gothic network. Those interlacings are connected to the wider cultural framework and occupy an important part in unravelling the insidious aspects of human nature, from the difficulties of finding “oneself” to the loneliness of the everyday. Issues relating to identity also feature in Patrick Usmar’s “Born To Die: Lana Del Rey, Beauty Queen or Gothic Princess?”, which further highlights the presence of the Gothic in a wide range of contemporary media forms. Usmar explores the music videos of Del Rey, which he describes as Pop Gothic, and that advance themes of consumer culture, gender identity, sexuality and the male gaze. Jen Craig’s “The Agitated Shell: Thinspiration and the Gothic Experience of Eating Disorders” similarly focuses on contemporary media and gender identity, problematising these issues by exploring the highly charged topic of “thinspiration” web sites. Hannah Irwin’s contribution also focuses on female experience. “Not of this earth: Jack the Ripper and the development of Gothic Whitechapel” focuses on the murder of five women who were the victims of an assailant commonly referred to by the epithet “Jack the Ripper”. Irwin discusses how Whitechapel developed as a Gothic location through the body of literature devoted to the Whitechapel murders of 1888, known as “Ripperature”. The subject of the Gothic space is also taken up by Donna Brien’s “Forging Continuing Bonds from the Dead to the Living: Gothic Commemorative Practices along Australia’s Leichhardt Highway.” This essay explores the memorials along Leichhardt’s highway as Gothic practice, in order to illuminate some of the uncanny paradoxes around public memorials, as well as the loaded emotional terrain such commemorative practices may inhabit. Furthering our understanding of the Australian Gothic is Patrick West’s contribution “Towards a Politics & Art of the Land: Gothic Cinema of the Australian New Wave and its Reception by American Film Critics.” West argues that many films of the Australian New Wave of the 1970s and 1980s can be defined as Gothic and that international reviews of such films tended to overlook the importance of the Australian landscape, which functions less as a backdrop and more as a participating element, even a character, in the drama, saturating the mise-en-scène. Bruno Starrs’ “Writing My Indigenous Vampires: Aboriginal Gothic or Aboriginal Fantastic” is dedicated to illuminating a new genre of creative writing: that of the “Aboriginal Fantastic”. Starrs’ novel That Blackfella Bloodsucka Dance! is part of this emerging genre of writing that is worthy of further academic interrogation. Similarly concerned with the supernatural, Erin Mercer’s contribution “‘A Deluge of Shrieking Unreason’: Supernaturalism and Settlement in New Zealand Gothic Fiction” explores the absence of ghosts and vampires in contemporary Gothic produced in New Zealand, arguing that this is largely a result of a colonial Gothic tradition utilising Maori ghosts that complicates the processes through which contemporary writers might build on that tradition. Although there is no reason why the Gothic must include supernatural elements, it is an enduring feature that is taken up by Jessica Balanzategui in “‘You Have a Secret that You Don’t Want To Tell Me’: The Child as Trauma in Spanish and American Horror Film.” This essay explores the uncanny child character and how such children act as an embodiment of trauma. Sarah Baker’s “The Walking Dead and Gothic Excess: The Decaying Social Structures of Contagion” focuses on the figure of the zombie as it appears in the television show The Walking Dead, which Baker argues is a way of exploring themes of decay, particularly of family and society. The essays contained in this special Gothic edition of M/C Journal highlight the continuing importance of the Gothic mode in contemporary culture and how that mode is constantly evolving into new forms and manifestations. The multi-faceted nature of the Gothic in our contemporary popular culture moment is accurately signalled by the various media on which the essays focus, from television to literature, animation, music, and film. The place occupied by the Gothic beyond representational forms, and into the realms of cultural practice, is also signalled, an important shift within the bounds of Gothic Studies which is bound to initiate fascinating debates. The transformations of the Gothic in media and culture are, therefore, also surveyed, so to continue the ongoing critical conversation on not only the place of the Gothic in contemporary narratives, but also its duplicitous, malleable, and often slippery nature. It is our hope that the essays here stimulate further discussion about the Gothic and we will hope, and look forward, to hearing from you. References Botting, Fred. Gothic: The New Critical Idiom. 2nd edition. Abingdon, UK: Routledge, 2014. Hogle, Jerrold. “Introduction: The Gothic in Western Culture”. The Cambridge Companion of Gothic Fiction, ed. Jerrold Hogle. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002. 1-20.

Abstract Background There is a dearth of research into mental disorders amongst Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples (herein First Australians) and especially into eating disorders. In order to understand the healthcare needs of this population, accurate prevalence data is needed. This study aimed to estimate the prevalence of eating disorders amongst First Australians at the diagnostic threshold level and to compare clinical features and health related quality of life (HRQoL) in First and other Australians with and without an eating disorder. Methods Data were sourced from the general population 2015 and 2016 Health Omnibus Surveys in South Australia. Trained interviewers conducted via face to face interviews with 6052 people over 15 years old. Eating disorder questions were based on the Eating Disorder Examination and Health Related Quality of Life (HRQoL) measured with the Short-Form 12 v1. The response and participation rates were over 50% and 68% respectively in both surveys. Body Mass Index (BMI) and First Australian status were derived from interview questions. Data were weighted to population norms and analysed using statistical methods for complex surveys. Results Twenty-five of 92 (27%) First Australian survey respondents had an eating disorder (majority Other or Unspecified Feeding or Eating Disorder characterised by recurrent binge eating). This was significantly more than the prevalence of other Australians with an eating disorder group (p = .04). First Australians with an eating disorder had higher levels of weight/shape overvaluation than all other groups. They were also younger and had poorer Mental HRQoL (MHRQoL) than other Australians without an eating disorder. On logistic regression, First Australian status was not independently associated with having an eating disorder, however, age, Body Mass Index (BMI) and MHRQoL emerged as significant independent variables for the increased rate of eating disorders in First Australians. Conclusions Eating disorders were very common in First Australians and were associated with high levels of overvaluation, binge eating frequency and poor MHRQoL. High levels of overvaluation were unexpected. The implications of these findings include an urgent need for further research, and the development of culturally appropriate assessment instruments and treatments for First Australians with eating disorders.

In this cross-sectional study of 141 Aboriginal Australians aged ≥45 years living in the remote Kimberley region of Western Australia, we explored whether glycated haemoglobin (HbA1c) levels were associated with frailty. Sixty-four participants (45.4%) had a HbA1c level ≥6.5% and 84 participants (59.6%) were frail. A significant trend was observed with regard to HbA1c levels and frailty, with those having HbA1c levels ≥6.5% having the greatest prevalence of frailty (70.3%). In binary logistic regression analyses, having a HbA1c level ≥6.5% was associated with being frail after adjustment for age, sex, and education. This association was attenuated after further adjustment for body mass index (BMI). Poorer glycaemic control is very common and a potential risk factor for frailty in remote-living Aboriginal Australians, and appears to be partly mediated by BMI, a known risk factor for diabetes mellitus. Obesity and diabetes mellitus are potentially important modifiable risk factors for frailty.

Black women are treated as though we are a box of chocolates presented to individual white women for their eating pleasure, so they can decide for themselves and others which pieces are most tasty (hooks 80). Introduction bell hooks equates African-American women with chocolates, which are picked out and selected for someone else’s pleasure. In her writing about white women who have historically dominated the feminist movement, hooks challenges the ways that people conceptualise the “self” and “other”. She uses a feminist lens to question widespread assumptions about the place of Black women in American society. hooks’s work has been applied to the Australian context by Bronwyn Fredericks, to explore the ways that Aboriginal women and men are perceived and “selected” by the broader Australian society. In this paper, we extend previous work about the metaphor of chocolate to discuss the themes underpinning an art exhibition—Hot Chocolate—which was curated by Troy-Anthony Baylis and Frances Wyld. Baylis and Wyld are Aboriginal Australians who are based in Adelaide and whose academic and creative work is centred within South Australia. The exhibition was launched on 14 November 2012 as part of Adelaide’s Visual Arts Program Feast Festival 2012 (CroftWarcon and Fredericks). It was curated in Adelaide’s SASA Gallery (which is associated with the School of Art, Architecture and Design at the University of South Australia). This paper focuses on the development of Hot Chocolate and the work produced by Aboriginal artists contained within it, and it includes a conversation about the work of Pamela CroftWarcon. Moreover, it discusses these works produced by the artists and links them back to the issues of identity and race, and how some Aboriginal people are selected like chocolates over and above others. In this, we are interested in exploring some of the issues around politics, desire, skin, and the fetishisation of race and bodies. The Metaphor of Chocolate This work will focus on how Aboriginal Australians are positioned as “chocolates” and how people of colour are viewed by the wider society, and about whether people have a pliable “soft centre” or a brittle “hard centre.” It uses hooks’s work as a point of reference to the power of the metaphor of chocolate in considering questions about who is “tasty.” In the Australian context, some Aboriginal people are deemed to be more “tasty” than others, in terms of what they say, write, and do (or what they avoid saying, writing, or doing). That is, they are seen as being sweeter chocolates and nicer chocolates than others. We understand that some people find it offensive to align bodies and races of people with chocolate. As Aboriginal women we do not support the use of the term ‘chocolate’ or use it when we are referring to other Aboriginal people. However, we both know of other Aboriginal people who use the metaphor of chocolate to talk about themselves, and it is a metaphor that other people of colour throughout the world similarly might use or find offensive. Historically, chocolate and skin colour have been linked, and some people now see these connections as something that reminds them of a colonial and imperial past (Gill). Some Aboriginal people are chosen ahead of others, perhaps because of their “complementary sweetness,” like an after-dinner mint that will do what the government and decision makers want them to do. They might be the ones who are offered key jobs and positions on government boards, decision-making committees, or advisory groups, or given priority of access to the media outlets (Fredericks). Through these people, the government can say, “Aboriginal people agree with us” or “this Aboriginal person agrees with us.” Aileen Moreton-Robinson is important to draw upon here in terms of her research focused on white possession (2005). Her work explains how, at times, non-Indigenous Anglo-Australians may act in their own interests to further invest in their white possession rather than exercise power and control to make changes. In these situations, they may select Aboriginal people who are more likely to agree with them, ether knowingly or in ignorance. This recycles the colonial power gained through colonisation and maintains the difference between those with privilege and those without. Moreover, Aboriginal people are further objectified and reproduced within this context. The flip side of this is that some Aboriginal people are deemed to be the “hard centres” (who are not pliable about certain issues), the “less tasty” chocolates (who do not quite take the path that others expect), or the “brittle” types that stick in your teeth and make you question whether you made the right choice (who perhaps challenge others and question the status quo). These Aboriginal people may not be offered the same access to power, despite their qualifications and experience, or the depth of their on-the-ground, community support. They may be seen as stirrers, radicals, or trouble makers. These perceptions are relevant to many current issues in Australia, including notions of Aboriginality. Of course, some people do not think about the chocolate they choose. They just take one from the box and see what comes out. Perhaps they get surprised, perhaps they are disappointed, and perhaps their perceptions about chocolates are reinforced by their choice. In 2011, Cadbury was forced to apologise to Naomi Campbell after the supermodel claimed that an advertisement was racist in comparing her to a chocolate bar (Sweney). Cadbury was established in 1824 by John Cadbury in Birmingham, England. It is now a large international corporation, which sells chocolate throughout the world. The advertisement for Cadbury’s Bliss range of Dairy Milk chocolate bars used the strapline, “Move over Naomi, there's a new diva in town” (Moss). Campbell (quoted in Moss) said she was “shocked” by the ad, which was intended as a tongue-in-cheek play on Campbell's reputation for diva-style tantrums and behaviour. “It's upsetting to be described as chocolate, not just for me but for all black women and black people,” she said. “I do not find any humour in this. It is insulting and hurtful” (quoted in Moss). This is in opposition to the Aboriginal artists in the exhibition who, although as individuals might find it insulting and hurtful, are using the chocolate reference to push the boundaries and challenge the audience’s perceptions. We agree that the metaphor of chocolate can take us to the edge of acceptable discussion. But we also believe that being at the edge of acceptability allows us to explore issues that are uncomfortable. We are interested in using the metaphor of chocolate to explore the ways that non-Indigenous people view Aboriginal Australians, and especially, discussions around the politics of identity, desire, skin, and the fetishisation of race and bodies. Developing the Exhibition The Hot Chocolate exhibition connected chocolate (the food) and Hot Chocolate (the band) with chocolate-coloured people. It was developed by Troy-Anthony Baylis and Frances Wyld, who invited nine artists to participate in the exhibition. The invited artists were: Troy-Anthony Baylis, Bianca Beetson, Pamela CroftWarcon, Cary Leibowitz, Yves Netzhammer + Ralph Schraivogel, Nat Paton, Andrew Putter and Dieter Roth (CroftWarcon and Fredericks). The exhibition was built around questions of what hot chocolate is and what it means to individuals. For some people, hot chocolate is a desirable, tasty drink. For others, hot chocolate brings back memories of music from the British pop band popular during the 1970s and early 1980s. For people with “chocolate-coloured skin”, chocolate can be linked to a range of questions about desirability, place, and power. Hot Chocolate, the band, was based in Britain, and was an inter-racial group of British-born musicians and immigrants from Jamaica, the Bahamas, Trinidad and Grenada. The title and ethnic diversity of the group and some of their song lyrics connected with themes for curatorial exploration in the Hot Chocolate exhibition. For example: I believe in miracles. Where you from, you sexy thing? … Where did you come from baby? ... Touch me. Kiss me darling… — You Sexy Thing (1975). It started with a kiss. I didn’t know it would come to this… — It Started With A Kiss (1983). When you can't take anymore, when you feel your life is over, put down your tablets and pick up your pen and I'll put you together again… — I’ll Put You Together Again (1978). All nine artists agreed to use lyrics by Hot Chocolate to chart their journeys in creating artworks for the exhibition. They all started with the lyrics from It Started With A Kiss (1983) to explore ways to be tellers of their own love stories, juxtaposed with the possibility of not being chosen or not being memorable. Their early work explored themes of identity and desirability. As the artists collaborated they made many references to both Hot Chocolate song lyrics and to hooks’s discussion about different “types” of chocolate. For example, Troy-Anthony Baylis’s Emotional Landscape (1997-2010) series of paintings is constructed with multiple “x” marks that represent “a kiss” and function as markers for creating imaginings of Country. The works blow “air kisses” in the face of modernity toward histories of the colonial Australian landscape and art that wielded power and control over Aboriginal subjects. Each of the nine artists linked chocolate with categorisations and constructions of Aboriginality in Australia, and explored the ways in which they, as both Aboriginal peoples and artists, seemed to be “boxed” (packaged) for others to select. For some, the idea that they could be positioned as “hot chocolate”—as highly desirable—was novel and something that they never expected at the beginning of their art careers. Others felt that they would need a miracle to move from their early “box” into something more desirable, or that their art might be “boxed” into a category that would be difficult to escape. These metaphors helped the artists to explore the categories that are applied to them as artists and as Aboriginal people and, particularly, the categories that are applied by non-Indigenous people. The song lyrics provided unifying themes. I’ll Put You Together Again (1978) is used to name the solidarity between creative people who are often described as “other”; the lyrics point the way to find the joy in life and “do some tastin'.” You Sexy Thing (1975) is an anthem for those who have found the tastiness of life and the believing in miracles. In You Sexy Thing, Hot Chocolate ask “Where you from?”, which is a question that many Aboriginal people use to identify each others’ mobs and whom they belong to; this question allows for a place of belonging and identity, and it is addressed right throughout the exhibition’s works. The final section of the exhibition uses the positive Everyone’s A Winner (1978) to describe a place that satisfies. This exhibition is a winner, and “that’s no lie.” Pamela CroftWarcon’s Works In a conversation between this paper’s authors on 25 November 2013, Dr Pamela CroftWarcon reflected on her contributions to the Hot Chocolate exhibition. In this summary of the conversation, CroftWarcon tells the story of her artwork, her concepts and ideas, and her contribution to the exhibition. Dr Pamela CroftWarcon (PC): I am of the Kooma clan, of the Uralarai people, from south-west Queensland. I now live at Keppel Sands, Central Queensland. I have practised as a visual artist since the mid-1980s and have worked as an artist and academic regionally, nationally, and internationally. Bronwyn Fredericks (BF): How did you get involved in the development of Hot Chocolate? PC: I was attending a writing workshop in Brisbane, and I reconnected with you, Bronwyn, and with Francis Wyld. We began to yarn about how our lives had been, both personally and professionally, since the last time we linked up. Francis began to talk about an idea for an exhibition that she and Troy wanted to bring together, which was all about Hot Chocolate. As we talked about the idea for a Hot Chocolate exhibition, I recalled a past discussion about the writing of bell hooks. For me, hooks’s work was like an awakening of the sense and spirit, and I have shared hooks’s work with many others. I love her comment about Black women being “like a box of chocolates”. I can understand what she is saying. Her work speaks to me; I can make sense of it and use it in my arts practice. I thus jumped at the chance to be involved. BF: How do you understand the concepts that frame the exhibition? PC: Many of the conversations I have had with other Aboriginal people over the years have included issues about the politics of living in mixed-race skin. My art, academic papers, and doctoral studies (Croft) have all focused on these issues and their associated politics. I call myself a “fair-skinned Murri”. Many non-Indigenous Australians still associate the colour of skin with authentic Aboriginal identity: you have to be dark skinned to be authentic. I think that humour is often used by Aboriginal people to hide or brush away the trauma that this kind of classification can cause and I wanted to address these issues in the exhibition. Many of the exhibition’s artworks also emphasise the politics of desire and difference, as this is something that we as Indigenous people continually face. BF: How does your work connect with the theme and concepts of the exhibition? PC: My art explores the conceptual themes of identity, place and Country. I have previously created a large body of work that used found boxes, so it was quite natural for me to think about “a box of chocolates”! My idea was to depict bell hooks’s ideas about people of colour and explore ways that we, as Aboriginal people in Australia, might be similar to a box of chocolates with soft centres and hard centres. BF: What mediums do you use in your works for the exhibition? PC: I love working with found boxes. For this work, I chose an antique “Winning Post” chocolate box from Nestlé. I was giving new life to the box of chocolates, just with a different kind of chocolate. The “Winning Post” name also fitted with the Hot Chocolate song, Everyone’s A Winner (1978). I kept the “Winning Post” branding and added “Dark Delicacies” as the text along the side (see Figure 1). Figure 1.Nestle’s “Winning Post” Chocolate Box. Photograph by Pamela CroftWarcon 2012. PC: I bought some chocolate jelly babies, chocolates and a plastic chocolate tray – the kind that are normally inserted into a chocolate box to hold the chocolates, or that you use to mould chocolates. I put chocolates in the bottom of the tray, and put chocolate jelly babies on the top. Then I placed them into casting resin. I had a whole tray of little chocolate people standing up in the tray that fitted into the “Winning Post” box (see Figures 2 and 3). Figure 2. Dark Delicacies by Pamela CroftWarcon, 2012. Photograph by Bronwyn Fredericks 2012. Figure 3. Dark Delicacies by Pamela CroftWarcon, 2012. Photograph by Pamela CroftWarcon 2012. PC: The chocolate jelly babies in the artwork depict Aboriginal people, who are symbolised as “dark delicacies”. The “centres” of the people are unknown and waiting to be picked: maybe they are sweet; maybe they are soft centres; maybe they are hard centres. The people are presented so that others can decide who is “tasty”─maybe politicians or government officers, or maybe “individual white women for their eating pleasure” (hooks) (see Figures 4 and 5). Figure 4. Dark Delicacies by Pamela CroftWarcon, 2012. Photograph by Pamela CroftWarcon 2012. Figure 5. Dark Delicacies by Pamela CroftWarcon, 2012. Photograph by Pamela CroftWarcon 2012. BF: What do you hope the viewers gained from your works in the exhibition? PC: I want viewers to think about the power relationship between Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australians. I want people to listen with their ears, heart, mind, and body, and accept the challenges and changes that Indigenous people identify as being necessary. Icould have put names on the chocolates to symbolise which Aboriginal people tend to be selected ahead of others, but that would have made it too easy, and maybe too provocative. I didn’t want to place the issue with Aboriginal people, because it is mostly non-Indigenous people who do the “picking”, and who hope they get a “soft centre” rather than a “peanut brittle.” I acknowledge that some Aboriginal people also doing the picking, but it is not within the same context. BF: How do you respond to claims that some people might find the work offensive? PC: I believe that we can all tag something as offensive and it seems to be an easy way out. What really matters is to reflect on the concepts behind an artist’s work and consider whether we should make changes to our own ways of thinking and doing. I know some people will think that I have gone too far, but I’m interested in whether it has made them think about the issues. I think that I am often perceived as a “hard-centred chocolate”. Some people see me as “trouble,” “problematic,” and “too hard,” because I question, challenge, and don’t let the dominant white culture just simply ride over me or others. I am actually quite proud of being thought of as a hard-centred chocolate, because I want to make people stop and think. And, where necessary, I want to encourage people to change the ways they react to and construct “self” and “other.” Conclusion The Hot Chocolate exhibition included representations that were desirable and “tasty”: a celebration of declaring the self as “hot chocolate.” Through the connections with the food chocolate and the band Hot Chocolate, the exhibition sought to raise questions about the human experience of art and the artist as a memorable, tasty, and chosen commodity. For the artists, the exhibition enabled the juxtaposition of being a tasty individual chocolate against the concern of being part of a “box” but not being selected from the collection or not being memorable enough. It also sought to challenge people’s thinking about Aboriginal identity, by encouraging visitors to ask questions about how Aboriginal people are represented, how they are chosen to participate in politics and decision making, and whether some Aboriginal people are seen as being more “soft” or more “acceptable” than others. Through the metaphor of chocolate, the Hot Chocolate exhibition provided both a tasty delight and a conceptual challenge. It delivered an eclectic assortment and delivered the message that we are always tasty, regardless of what anyone thinks of us. It links back to the work of bell hooks, who aligned African American women with chocolates, which are picked out and selected for someone else’s pleasure. We know that Aboriginal Australians are sometimes conceptualised and selected in the same way. We have explored this conceptualisation and seek to challenge the imaginations of others around the issues of politics, desire, skin, and fetishisation of race and bodies. References Croft, Pamela. ART Song: The Soul Beneath My Skin. Doctor of Visual Art (Unpublished thesis). Brisbane: Griffith U, 2003. CroftWarcon, Pamela and Bronwyn Fredericks. It Started With a KISS. Hot Chocolate. Exhibition catalogue. Adelaide: SASA Gallery, 24 Oct.-29 Nov. 2012. Fredericks, Bronwyn. “Getting a Job: Aboriginal Women’s Issues and Experiences in the Health Sector.” International Journal of Critical Indigenous Studies 2.1 (2009): 24-35. Gill, Rosalind. Gender and the Media. Malden, MA: Polity, 2007. hooks, bell. Teaching to Transgress Education as the Practice of Freedom. London: Routledge, 1994. Moreton-Robinson, Aileen. “The House That Jack Built: Britishness and White Possession.” ACRAWSA Journal 1, (2005): 21-29. 1 Feb. 2014. ‹http://www.acrawsa.org.au/ejournal/?id=8› Moss, Hilary. “Naomi Campbell: Cadbury Ad “Insulting & Hurtful”. The Huntington Post 31 May (2011). 16 Dec. 2013. ‹http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/05/31/naomi-campbell-cadbury-ad_n_868909.html#› Sweney, Mark. “Cadbury Apologises to Naomi Campbell Over ‘Racist’ Ad.” The Guardian 3 Jun. (2011). 16 Dec. 2013. ‹http://www.theguardian.com/media/2011/jun/03/cadbury-naomi-campbell-ad›