Статті в журналах з теми "Aboriginal Australians. South Australia Languages"

This paper reports findings from interviews and focus groups conducted within a multi-dimensional action research project concerning medication management among Indigenous Australians. Participants were Aboriginal people with mental health problems, carers and family members, and health and social service workers from different regions in South Australia. A meta-analysis of findings from each regional project component was conducted, and major themes conceptualised and developed into a coherent summary. The findings revealed problems of a magnitude not previously realised - mental health problems (including alcohol and drug problems) and medication management among Aboriginal people clearly are major issues requiring immediate and sustained attention if the health and welfare of the Australian Indigenous population are to be improved. Findings concerned eight major areas: social and emotional wellbeing issues; stressors on Aboriginal health services and providers; training for the Aboriginal health workforce; mainstream health services for Aboriginal people; trust and confidentiality within Aboriginal health services; English language literacy and numeracy skills of Aboriginal clients; remote living arrangements for many Aboriginal people; problems with alcohol use; and institutionalised and individual racism in the community at large.

PurposeThe purpose is to review the formation, event management, performance development and consumption of South East Australia’s inaugural 2018 Giiyong Festival with emphasis on the sociocultural imaginary and political positionings of its shared theatre of arts.Design/methodology/approachA trialogue between a musicologist, festival director and Indigenous stakeholder accrues qualitative ethnographic findings for discussion and analysis of the organic growth and productive functioning of the festival.FindingsAs an unprecedented moment of large-scale unity between First and non-First Nations Peoples in South East Australia, Giiyong Festival elevated the value of Indigenous business, culture and society in the regional marketplace. The performing arts, coupled with linguistic and visual idioms, worked to invigorate the Yuin cultural landscape.Research limitations/implicationsAdditional research was curtailed as COVID-19 shutdowns forced the cancellation of Giiyong Festival (2020). Opportunities for regional Indigenous arts to subsist as a source for live cultural expression are scoped.Practical implicationsMusic and dance are renewable cultural resources, and when performed live within festival contexts they work to sustain Indigenous identities. When aligned with Indigenous knowledge and languages, they impart central agency to First Nations Peoples in Australia.Social implicationsThe marketing of First Nations arts contributes broadly to high political stakes surrounding the overdue Constitutional Recognition of Australia's Indigenous Peoples.Originality/valueThe inclusive voices of a festival director and Indigenous manager augment a scholarly study of SE Australia's first large Aboriginal cultural festival that supplements pre-existing findings on Northern Australian festivals.

The present volume highlights studies of languages created by contact-induced language change in Australia and the Pacific. Editor Jeff Siegel identifies six processes involved in the formation of pidgins, creoles, and other such language contact varieties: reanalysis, simplification, leveling, diffusion, language shift, and depidginization/decreolization. The process of reanalysis is the focus of four chapters: “The Role of Australian Aboriginal Language in the Formation of Australian Pidgin Grammar: Transitive Verbs and Adjectives” by Koch; “‘Predicate Marking' in Bislama” by Crowley; “Predicting Substrate Influence: Tense-Modality-Aspect Marking in Tayo” by Siegel, Sandeman, and Corne; “My Nephew Is My Aunt: Features and Transformation of Kinship Terminology in Solomon Islands Pijin” by Jourdan; and “Na pa kekan, na person: The Evolution of Tayo Negatives” by Corne.

In Representing Australian Aboriginal Music and Dance 1930–1970, Amanda Harris sets out a history of Aboriginal music and dance performances in south-east Australia during the four-decade-long period defined as the Australian assimilation era. During this era, and pushing its boundaries, harsh government policies under the guise of ‘protection’ and ‘welfare’ were designed forcibly to assimilate Aboriginal people into the mainstream population. It is striking while reading this book how few of these stories are widely known, particularly given the heavy influence that Harris uncovers it having on the Australian art music scene of today. As such, the book makes an important contribution to the ‘truth telling’ of Australian history while also showing that—despite the severe policies during this era, including the banning of speaking in Indigenous languages and restricting the performance of ceremony—Aboriginal people have remained active agents in driving their own engagements and asserting their own culturally distinct modes of music and dance performance. This resilience against significant odds has been aptly described by one of the book’s contributors, Yorta Yorta and Dja Dja Warrung cultural leader, visual and performance artist, curator and opera singer Tiriki Onus, as ‘hiding in plain sight,’ referring to the ways in which Aboriginal people ensured the continued practice and performance of their culture by doing so in public, the only place they were allowed to…

Traditional languages are a key element of Indigenous peoples’ identity, cultural expression, autonomy, spiritual and intellectual sovereignty, and wellbeing. While the links between Indigenous language loss and poor mental health have been demonstrated in several settings, little research has sought to identify the potential psychological benefits that may derive from language reclamation. The revival of the Barngarla language on the Eyre Peninsula, South Australia, offers a unique opportunity to examine whether improvements in mental health and social and emotional wellbeing can occur during and following the language reclamation process. This paper presents findings from 16 semi-structured interviews conducted with Barngarla community members describing their own experienced or observed mental health and wellbeing impacts of language reclamation activities. Aligning with a social and emotional wellbeing framework from an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander perspective, key themes included connection to spirituality and ancestors; connection to Country; connection to culture; connection to community; connection to family and kinship; connection to mind and emotions; and impacts upon identity and cultural pride at an individual level. These themes will form the foundation of assessment of the impacts of language reclamation in future stages of the project.

IntroductionOur study aimed to identify factors that influence access to eye care and eye health outcomes for remote Indigenous Australians living with diabetes.MethodsIn collaboration with Indigenous Community-Based Researchers (CBR) and Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Services (ACCHS), a qualitative, participatory action research approach was taken, drawing on Indigenist and decolonising methodologies. The study was undertaken in four remote communities, in the Katherine region, Northern Territory and north-western New South Wales, Australia. Interviews and focus groups were undertaken with Indigenous adults aged ≥40 years living with diabetes (n=110), and primary care clinicians working in ACCHSs (n=37). A series of interviews with CBRs (n=13) were undertaken before and after data collection to add cultural insights and validation to participant accounts. Data were analysed inductively using grounded theory, in-depth discussion and NVivo V.11.ResultsMore than one-third of all patients had little to no knowledge of how diabetes affects eye health. Limited access to health information and interpreters, language barriers, distrust of health providers and services, and limited cultural responsivity among non-Indigenous clinicians, were identified as determining factors in eye health and care.DiscussionWe outline a need to address gaps in trust and communication, through increased access to and resourcing of Indigenous language interpreters and cultural brokers, understandable and culturally sensitive diabetic eye health information and cultural responsivity training for non-Indigenous clinicians. Centring Indigenous cultures in healthcare practice will enable a shared understanding between clinicians and Indigenous patients, and subsequently more equitable eye health outcomes.

Warning Readers of this article are warned that it may contain terms, descriptions and opinions that are culturally sensitive and/or offensive to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders. Silesian-born Lothar Becker spent two periods in Australia, during which he made observations on a range of natural history topics, including fungi—a group of organisms rarely noticed by contemporary naturalists. Becker compiled notes, sketches and collections of Australian fungi that he sent to Elias Fries in Sweden for identification. Unfortunately, this material has not survived, but Becker’s accounts of his time in Australia, especially that published in Das Ausland in 1873, contain remarkable first-hand observations, including some on exotic fungi. Becker’s article is one of the earliest stand-alone analyses of the affinities of the Australian mycota. Remarks on the use of fungi by Aboriginal peoples of south-eastern Australia are particularly significant, due to inclusion of a word presumed to be from Aboriginal language and the suggestion of gendered roles in the collection of edible fungi.

Background Retrospective data indicate increased stroke incidence in Aboriginal/Torres Strait Islander (Indigenous) Australians, possibly with poorer outcomes. We present the first prospective population-based stroke incidence study in Indigenous Australians. Methods We pooled data from ASCEND and SEARCH, two prospective “ideal” South Australian stroke incidence studies, ASCEND conducted in urban Northwestern Adelaide (2009–2010) and SEARCH in five South Australian rural centers (2009–2011). We calculated age-standardized incidence for Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people. Results The study population comprised 261,403 inhabitants. Among 432 first-ever strokes, 13 were in Aboriginal people (median age 51 vs. 78 years for non-Aboriginal people, p < 0.001). Age-standardized stroke incidence per 100,000 in Aboriginal patients (116, 95% CI: 95–137) was nearly two-fold that of non-Aboriginal patients (67, 95% CI: 51–84). Age-stratified excess incidence in Aboriginal people was restricted to those aged < 55 years (incidence rate ratio (IRR) 3.5, 95% CI: 2–7), particularly for intracerebral hemorrhage (IRR: 16, 95% CI: 4–61). Conclusion The excess stroke incidence in Aboriginal South Australians appears substantial, especially in those aged <55 years. Further work is required to delineate and address disparities.

In his analysis of ‘paranoid nationalism’, Hage (2003: xii, 2) coins the figure of the ‘white worrier’ to identify how white Australians marginalized by the inequalities of economic rationalism and globalization displace their anxieties onto even weaker ‘others’, Aboriginal people and migrants, particularly refugees. Hage’s ideas are applied to the discourses used by young South Australians when they discuss Australian multiculturalism, immigration and reconciliation. Hage’s suggestion that white worrying is the response of the white working class male to his economic and ideological marginalization is only partially supported in this sample of young people. While those from non-English speaking and Indigenous backgrounds are much less likely to be ‘paranoid nationalists’, fear and loathing of the other are expressed across the socio-economic spectrum of young ‘white’ Australians, with exposure to a university education, either on the part of respondents or their parents, being the main antidote to hostile attitudes to the ‘other’.

To date, the work of Aboriginal early childhood educators in the mid-twentieth century has not been widely acknowledged. Nancy Barnes, nee Brumbie (1927–2012), exemplifies the strength and tenacity of Aboriginal Australians who had to negotiate their lives and work in white institutions and a society which denied them fundamental human rights. Nancy graduated from the Adelaide Kindergarten Training College in December 1956 as the first qualified Aboriginal kindergarten director in South Australia. Following on, she was the foundation director of Ida Standley Preschool in Alice Springs (1959–1962) then the first ‘regional director’ in the Kindergarten Union of South Australia. Based on traditional archival research and analysis of public documents and Barnes’ autobiography, the article begins with her childhood and youth as a domestic servant and then explores her career, political activism, experiences of racism and lifelong commitment to addressing inequalities between Aboriginal and white Australians through education.

Sleeping languages, afew remarks on the linguistic situation of Aboriginal people in Australia through the specific case of Gamilaraay, an Aboriginal language of New South WalesThe main aim of this article is to investigate revival linguistics, anew branch of linguistics as yet little known in Poland, through the specific case of the recent revival of Gamilaraay, an Aboriginal language of New South Wales, Australia. After discussing the classification of the world’s languages according to their vitality, the author presents the language situation in Australia and offers adefinition of revival linguistics, justifying its relevance to the revitalization of Aboriginal languages, including some that have been extinct for up to two hundred years.

Abstract Although a minority of Indigenous Australians still use their heritage languages, English has been largely adopted by Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people as their medium of communication both within and beyond their communities. In the period since English first reached Australia in 1788, a dialect has emerged, drawing on English, contact language, and Indigenous language sources, to enable Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander speakers to maintain cultural conceptual continuity while communicating in a dramatically changed environment. In the perspective of Cultural Linguistics it can be shown that many of the modifications in the lexicon, grammar, phonology, and discourse of English as used by Indigenous Australians can be related to cultural/conceptual principles, of which five are illustrated here: interconnectedness, embodiment, group reference, orientation to motion, and orientation to observation. This is demonstrated here with data from varieties of Aboriginal English spoken in diverse Australian locations.1 The understanding of Aboriginal English this gives has implications for cross-cultural communication and for education.

Smoking prevalence among Indigenous Australians far exceeds that of non-Indigenous Australians and is considered the greatest contributor to burden of disease for Indigenous Australians. The Quitline is a primary intervention for facilitating smoking cessation and, given the health implications of tobacco use, maximising its effectiveness for Indigenous Australians is imperative. However, the utilisation and effectiveness of this service within the Indigenous Australian population has not been examined. This study explores the utilisation of the South Australian Quitline by smokers identifying as Indigenous Australian. Quitline counsellors collected data regarding demographic characteristics, and smoking and quitting behaviour from Quitline callers in 2010. Results indicated that the proportion of Indigenous and non-Indigenous smokers who registered for the service was comparable. Demographic variables and smoking addiction at time of registration with the Quitline were similar for Indigenous and non-Indigenous callers. However, results indicated that Indigenous callers received significantly fewer callbacks than non-Indigenous callers and were significantly less likely to set a quit date. Significantly fewer Indigenous callers reported that they were still successfully quit at 3 months. Thus, Indigenous Australian callers may be less engaged with the Quitline and further research is required exploring whether the service could be tailored to make it more engaging for Indigenous Australians who smoke.

Kangaroo management is important to the sustainability of Australia’s rangeland landscapes. The commercial harvest of kangaroos assists in reduction of total grazing pressure in the rangelands and provides the potential for supplementary income to pastoralists. Indeed, the commercial kangaroo industry is considered by natural resource scientists as one of the few rural industry development options with potential to provide economic return with minimal environmental impact. While the biology and population ecology of harvested kangaroo species in Australia is the subject of past and present research, the social, institutional and economic issues pertinent to the commercial kangaroo industry are not well understood. Our research is addressing the lack of understanding of social issues around kangaroo management, which are emerging as constraints on industry development. The non-indigenous stakeholders in kangaroo harvest are landholders, regional management authorities, government conservation and primary production agencies, meat processors, marketers and field processors (shooters) and these industry players generally have little understanding of what issues the commercial harvest of kangaroos presents to Aboriginal people. Consequently, the perspectives and aspirations of Aboriginal people regarding the commercial harvest of kangaroos are not well considered in management, industry development and planning. For Aboriginal people, kangaroos have subsistence, economic and cultural values and while these values and perspectives vary between language groups and individuals, there is potential to address indigenous issues by including Aboriginal people in various aspects of kangaroo management. This research also examines the Aboriginal interface with commercial kangaroo harvest, and by working with Aboriginal people and groups is exploring several options for greater industry involvement. The promotion of better understandings between indigenous and non-indigenous people with interests in kangaroo management could promote industry development through the marketing of kangaroo as not only clean and green, but also as a socially just product.

Language death can occur naturally, and in different ways, or it can be caused by deliberate policy. This is how deliberate practices and policies brought it about in Australia. •Diverse linguistic groups of Aborigines were forced into small missions or reserves to live together; consequently languages that were numerically stronger squeezed the others out of use.•Anxious to ‘Christianise’ the Aborigines, missionaries enforced harsh penalties on users of Aboriginal languages, even to the point of snatching babies from their mothers and institutionalising them, so they would not hear their parental languages.•Aboriginal religious ceremonies were banned; initiations did not take place, and so liturgical, ceremonial and secret languages were unable to be passed on. As old people died, their languages died with them.•Assimilationist/integrationist policies were enforced which required Aborigines to attend schools where English-only was the medium of instruction.•Finally, denigration of the Aboriginal languages set the seal on their fate in Victoria (within forty years of white settlement, all Gippsland languages had become extinct), most of New South Wales, South Australia and Queensland. Labelling the languages “rubbish”, “heathen jargon”, “primitive jibberish”, and so on, made Aboriginal people reluctant to use their normal means of communication.

Abstract The mental health of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander males in Australia is often misunderstood, mainly because it has been poorly researched. When analyzing the quality of life of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander males, it is crucial to consider the associated factors that have directly and indirectly contributed to their poor health and wellbeing, that is, the effects of colonization, the interruption of cultural practices, displacement of societies, taking away of traditional homelands and forceful removal of children (assimilation and other policies). The displacement of families and tribal groups from their country broke up family groups and caused conflict between the original inhabitants of the lands and dislocated Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander tribal groups. These dislocated Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people were forced to reside on the allocated government institutions where they would be (allegedly) protected. Whilst in the institutions they were made to comply with the authority rules and were forbidden to practice or participate in their traditional rituals or customs or speak their own tribal languages. Additionally, the dispossession from Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander traditional lands and the destruction of culture and political, economic, and social structures have caused many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people to have a pervading sense of hopelessness for the future. The traditional customs and life cycles of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander males were permanently affected by colonization adversely contributing to mental health problems in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities. In this article we aim to provide a better understanding of the processes impacting on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander males' social and emotional wellbeing.

Australia is a unique, geologically ancient island continent. Its flora and fauna are unlike those found anywhere else and the same may be said of its people, politics and health services. The population of 17.3 millions represents a multicultural mix, with an anglo-celtic core conflated by sustained post-war immigration from southern Europe, Turkey, southeast Asia and south America. One in five current Australians was born elsewhere, one in ten comes from a non-English speaking background, and a quarter of those born here have a parent who was born overseas. Aboriginals and Torres Strait Islanders form 1.4% of the total population. They have third world mortality figures but die of first world diseases, their life expectancy being 20 years less than that of other Australians. Two hundred and four years after what they see as the British invasion, their standard of living lags far behind all other socio-cultural groups in the country. Most members of the Aboriginal community do not live long enough to develop Alzheimer's disease, but it and other age-related diseases are emerging as the major determinants of health costs as Australia moves towards the 21st century.

Background: Australia’s healthcare system is complex and fragmented which can create challenges in healthcare, particularly in rural and remote areas. Aboriginal people experience inequalities in healthcare treatment and outcomes. This study aimed to investigate barriers and enablers to accessing healthcare services for Aboriginal people living in regional and remote Australia. Methods: Semi-structured interviews were conducted with healthcare delivery staff and stakeholders recruited through snowball sampling. Three communities were selected for their high proportion of Aboriginal people and diverse regional and remote locations. Thematic analysis identified barriers and enablers. Results: Thirty-one interviews were conducted in the three communities (n = 5 coastal, n = 13 remote, and n = 13 border) and six themes identified: (1) Improved coordination of healthcare services; (2) Better communication between services and patients; (3) Trust in services and cultural safety; (4) Importance of prioritizing health services by Aboriginal people; (5) Importance of reliable, affordable and sustainable services; (6) Distance and transport availability. These themes were often present as both barriers and enablers to healthcare access for Aboriginal people. They were also present across the healthcare system and within all three communities. Conclusions: This study describes a pathway to better healthcare outcomes for Aboriginal Australians by providing insights into ways to improve access.

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

Alcohol use and related injuries are a leading risk factor for deaths and disabilities in Australia, particularly for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. An improved understanding of individual and geographical community characteristics that are significantly associated with higher rates of alcohol-related injuries for specific populations can contribute to more effective efforts aimed at reducing alcohol-related injuries. For Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians in New South Wales, this study used emergency department (ED) data to investigate rates of alcohol-related injuries, whether differences in rates vary between communities, and individual and community characteristics significantly associated with alcohol-related injuries. Differences in rates of alcohol-related injuries between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal people varied significantly between communities. Being younger than 38 years old was significantly associated with increased risk of alcohol-related injuries, independent of Aboriginal status and gender. Increased disadvantage of the geographical community inhabited was associated with increased alcohol-related injuries for males. For Aboriginal males, living in a regional community was significantly associated with increased alcohol-related injuries, compared to living in major cities. Conversely, for non-Aboriginal people, living in regional communities was significantly associated with fewer alcohol-related injuries. It is therefore likely that an explanation for between-community differences can be found in regional communities.

This paper reviews the teaching of Aboriginal languages in the tertiary sector of Australia, looking at the stronger languages taught in the university sector versus those languages under revival that tend to be taught in the TAFE sector. The paper summarises the status of courses offered state by state, and sets the scene with some historical background. The metaphor of ‘rekindling warm embers’ is used to describe revival programs, with a focus on the Ngarrindjeri experience in South Australia. The point is made that language teaching programs require the involvement and support of Elders, whether taught in the TAFE or university sector.

In Dharawal Country in regional New South Wales, a small and powerful team provides cancer prevention, screening, support and care for Australian Aboriginal people, their families and communities. In keeping with Aboriginal practices and values, their uniquely holistic approach encompasses everything from food security and finding childcare, to support at diagnosis, surgical, radiation or chemo treatment, through to holding funerals, facilitating yarning groups, and Ceremony for survivors of cancer and their carers. The team created a manual for Aboriginal Health Workers, and other staff of Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Services, together with training webinars, and modules. The program is also designed for Aboriginal Liaison Officers and Palliative Care Workers who work in hospitals. The book and the training modules are called Ngununggula. The name, from the Gundungurra language, means working and walking together. “We’ll make ourselves available to anyone that wants to tread this path because we know all the pitfalls. We’ve learned them. We’ve tripped and had to climb out of them again. Anyone that wants the shortcuts—more learning, less pain—here they are. We want to share and help. I want the message to get out all over the place. I want to share the resources, to support anyone else who wants to run programs or build a team like we do.” Kyla Wynn, Counsellor/Co-ordinator Cancer Care Team, Illawarra Aboriginal Medical Service. Partners include: Aboriginal Health and Medical Research Council, Illawarra Aboriginal Medical Service, University of Sydney, University of Wollongong, Menzies School of Health Research.

A brief historical review of language policies in Australia up to the publication of the Senate Standing Committee's Report on a National Language Policy in 1984 is given. The recommendations of the Report are discussed in the light of the ethno-cultural or core value significance that community languages have for many minority ethnic groups in Australia. Recent research findings on such languages are presented and their implications for a national language policy considered. It is postulated that the linguistic pluralism generated by the presence of community languages needs to be viewed in the context of a framework of values that includes English as the shared language for all Australians. From this perspective, it is argued that the stress that the Senate Committee Report places upon the centrality of English in Australia should be balanced by greater recognition of the linguistic rights of minorities and their implications for bilingual education. It is pointed out that both these aspects of language policy have been given prominence in recent statements and guidelines released by the Ministers of Education in Victoria and South Australia. The paper concludes by pointing to the growing interest in the teaching of languages other than English to all children in Australian schools.

IntroductionThe age-adjusted rate of potentially preventable hospitalisations for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people is almost five times the rate of other Australians. Quality use of medicines has an important role in alleviating these differences. This requires strengthening existing medication reviewing services through collaboration between community pharmacists and health workers, and ensuring services are culturally appropriate. This Indigenous Medication Review Service (IMeRSe) study aims to develop and evaluate the feasibility of a culturally appropriate medication management service delivered by community pharmacists in collaboration with Aboriginal health workers.Methods and analysisThis study will be conducted in nine Aboriginal health services (AHSs) and their associated community pharmacies in three Australian states over 12 months. Community pharmacists will be trained to improve their awareness and understanding of Indigenous health and cultural issues, to communicate the quality use of medicines effectively, and to strengthen interprofessional relationships with AHSs and their staff. Sixty consumers (with a chronic condition/pregnant/within 2 years post partum and at risk of medication-related problems (MRPs) per site will be recruited, with data collection at baseline and 6 months. The primary outcome is the difference in cumulative incidence of serious MRPs in the 6 months after IMeRSe introduction compared with the 6 months prior. Secondary outcomes include potentially preventable medication-related hospitalisations, medication adherence, total MRPs, psychological and social empowerment, beliefs about medication, treatment satisfaction and health expenditure.Ethics and disseminationThe protocol received approval from Griffith University (HREC/2018/251), Queensland Health Metro South (HREC/18/QPAH/109), Aboriginal Health and Medical Research Council of New South Wales (1381/18), Far North Queensland (HREC/18/QCH/86-1256) and the Central Australian HREC (CA-18-3090). Dissemination to Indigenous people and communities will be a priority. Results will be available on the Australian Sixth Community Pharmacy Agreement website and published in peer-reviewed journals.Trial registration numberACTRN12618000188235; Pre-results.

Humankind has been present on the Australian continent for at least 40 000, some say 60 000 years, remarkably adapted to the environment and having a cultural tradition appreciated by few Caucasians. White people have been here for only 200 years; and psychiatry for about half of that. We know nothing about the mental health of pre-contact indigenous peoples; but we now know a little about the ways in which mental disorders are explained and treated by traditional methods. In two centuries, the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islands communities, which are very diverse, have been steadily reduced to become only 1.5% of the population. From settlement in 1788 until the 1950s, most non-aboriginal Australians were of Anglo-Saxon or Celtic origin. Since the Second World War, the pattern of immigration has greatly enriched Australian life, first through large numbers of people from the Mediterranean littoral, Western Europe and the Balkans, and more recently from south-east Asia. Ethnic diversity is now evident in most peoples' daily lives – whom you see in the street, whom you work alongside, who your friends are, what you eat and who you have as patients. So the present Australian population of 18 million has undergone a marked change in demography and lifestyle within only two generations. Like the people, psychiatry is also changing rapidly. Where are the changes taking place? What is it like to be a psychiatrist here at present? Where has there been success and where has there been failure? Where is there lots of action?

In the remote schooling context, much recent media attention has been directed to issues of poor attendance, low attainment rates of minimal benchmarks in literacy and numeracy, poor retention and the virtual absence of transitions from school to work. The Australian government's recent ‘Gonski review’ (Review of Funding for Schooling – Final Report 2011) also strongly advocates the need to increase investment and effort into remote education across Australia in order to address the concerns of under-achievement, particularly of Indigenous students. Large-scale policies designed to improve access to services have caused a significant increase in services delivered from external sources, policy development at all levels of government, and tight accountability measures that affect remote communities and in turn, schools in various ways. Remote educators find themselves caught in the middle of this systemic discourse and the voices and values that exist in the remote communities where they live. Within this complex environment, the purpose of this article is to amplify Indigenous community voices and values in the discourse and by doing so, challenge ourselves as educators and educational leaders to examine the question: ‘While we're busy delivering education, is anybody learning anything?’ This article focuses on the Anangu (Pitjantjatjara/Yankunytjatjara) context of the North-West of South Australia, southern regions of the Northern Territory and into Western Australia. This region is referred to as the ‘tri-state’ region. Using a qualitative methodology, this article examines three Pitjantjatjara language oral narrative transcripts where Anangu reflect on their experiences of growing up and learning. By privileging these Anangu voices in the dialogue about learning in the remote Aboriginal community context, key themes are identified and analysed, highlighting important considerations for remote educators in understanding the values and cultural elements that inform Anangu students in their engagement with a formal education context.

Abstract Education is one of the most powerful instruments for reducing poverty and inequality, and lays a foundation for sustained economic growth. Aboriginal peoples of Australia experience ‘overwhelming’ disadvantages across every indicator of social and economic well being when compared with non-Aboriginal peoples. This disadvantage is experienced across all sectors of education, and although Aboriginal students are participating at high rates in vocational education and training, their pass rates and qualification outcomes remain well below those of non-Aboriginal Australians. This paper maps the participation and outcomes for Aboriginal desert dwellers in the vocational education and training sector and relates these to factors such as: (1) compulsory school access, (2) remote area labour markets, (3) the state of housing and infrastructure on discrete desert settlements, and (4) the policy and program initiatives influencing land tenure, income security and labour force status. The provision of education services across desert regions epitomises the tensions generated when the drivers of desert living – remoteness, dispersed sparse and mobile populations, variable climate, geography, cultures, languages and histories – interact with the differing factors that shape mainstream vocational education. Although innovations in program delivery more consistent with learner needs and aspirations can and do emerge, they are often framed as pilot projects or materialise in parallel program interventions such as youth work or land care. This paper explores the nature of these tensions and identifies the characteristics of educational interventions that can improve outcomes for Aboriginal desert dwellers no matter where they choose to live.

This special issue of The Australian Journal of Indigenous Education presents a second volume of papers which specifically address the issue of remote education for Indigenous Australians. ‘Red Dirt Revisited’, edited by John Guenther, presents findings from his team working on the Remote Education Systems (RES) project within the Cooperative Research Centre for Remote Economic Participation (CRC-REP). Focusing on a number of remote Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander educational sites in the Northern Territory, Western Australia and South Australia, the RES project is now in its final stages and the main intention behind this special issue is to share significant findings from this important research. Much of the work presented here is by postgraduate students and AJIE is very pleased to be able to provide a voice and forum to support and ‘grow’ early career researchers in our field.

IntroductionChronic conditions impact indigenous peoples of Australia at a much higher rate than non-indigenous Australians. Attendance at the Medicare Benefits Scheme (MBS) supported indigenous health checks are crucial to improve prevention and management of chronic health conditions. However, in conjunction with lifestyle and environmental factors, attendance rates at primary healthcare services for screening and treatment have fallen in Australia during the COVID-19 pandemic. This study aims to explore the influence of the COVID-19 pandemic on preventive health behaviours of indigenous Australians and the associated barriers to, and enablers of, engagement with health services to formulate a targeted intervention strategy.Methods and analysisA concurrent mixed-methods study (comprising quantitative and qualitative data collection methods) will be employed. Descriptive analysis of MBS data about the characteristics of indigenous peoples of Australia claiming health assessment services will be performed. Generalised estimating equation regression models will be used to examine the use of health assessment services over time. Qualitative interviews informed by indigenous research methods will be conducted. Interviews will investigate barriers to, and enablers of, engagement with health services. Thematic approach guided by the principles of indigenist praxis, storytelling and collaborative research will be used to analyse the interview data. The project commenced in July 2020 and will be completed by July 2022.Ethics and disseminationThe project received ethics approval from the Aboriginal Health and Medical Research Council of New South Wales and the University of New England Human Research Ethics Committee. Findings will be disseminated via peer-reviewed journal articles, conferences, government and relevant stakeholder reports, and infographics.

Marine turtles regularly migrate hundreds to thousands of kilometres between nesting beaches and home foraging grounds. Effective conservation of marine turtles requires understanding of migration patterns in order to facilitate regional cooperation across the turtles' migratory range. Indigenous Australians maintain traditional rights and responsibilities for marine turtle management across much of the northern Australian coast. To better understand turtle migrations and identify with whom the Aboriginal people of north-east Arnhem Land (Yolngu) share turtles, we used satellite telemetry to track the migration routes of 20 green turtles (Chelonia mydas) departing from a nesting beach ~45 km south of Nhulunbuy, north-east Arnhem Land, Northern Territory, Australia. All tracked turtles remained within the Gulf of Carpentaria. These results suggest that the foraging habitat for adults of this nesting population may be largely confined to the Gulf, offering an optimistic scenario for green turtle conservation. Given these results and the critical role indigenous people play in conserving and managing marine turtles, we recommend that a formal network of indigenous communities be established as the foundation of a community-based turtle-management strategy for the Gulf of Carpentaria region.

This paper brings to the reader‟s attention a history of tobacco smoking that arguably had a negative effect on the health of Aboriginal communities in the Hunter region of central eastern New South Wales during the early colonial contact period from 1800 to 1850. Furthermore, it will also be shown that tobacco was used by colonists to engage the services of Aboriginal people, not only in Aboriginal communities in the Hunter region, but further afield across many other frontiers of colonial expansion in Australia in the 19th century. It will be demonstrated through primary archival and secondary sources that colonists utilised tobacco as a coercive agent to appease, befriend, pacify, coerce and remunerate Aboriginal People, resulting in widespread addiction. It is argued that tobacco smoking not only undermined the health of traditional communities, but also this unhealthy habit has been largely overlooked in measurements of the impact of colonization on the health of Indigenous people. While historians widely acknowledge that exotic diseases such as smallpox had a negative effect on the health of Aboriginal People, it is rarely considered in contemporary historical accounts that tobacco had an even more insidious effect on the well being of Aboriginal societies during the early colonial contact period. Furthermore, while diseases such as smallpox have hopefully disappeared forever, health destroyers like tobacco have endured and continue to impact on Aboriginal health. Finally, this paper recognises the enormity of challenges faced by health authorities, and indeed Indigenous Australians, in contemporary society in combating a chronic problem that has been embedded in Aboriginal post-colonial culture during the long course of European occupation.

Historical records, and the names of animals within Aboriginal languages, were analysed to compare the distribution and density of kangaroos at European contact with those of today. We gave up this attempt for the Eastern Grey Kangaroo, Macropus giganteus, presently restricted to the extreme south-east of the state, because it was never differentiated historically from the Southern Grey Kangaroo, M. fuliginosus, which occurs right across the southern portion of the state. The historical distribution of the latter species, and of the Red Kangaroo, M. rufus, seems to have been similar to their distribution today. Past densities are difficult to extract from historical records and are not sufficiently reliable to justify comparison with present densities. We note however an apparent increase in density of &apos;kangaroos&apos; in the mid-1800s.

Aboriginal Protectorates operated in the late 1830s and 1840s in the Port Phillip District of New South Wales (later to become the colony of Victoria) in Australia and New Zealand. This article examines a small selection of the extensive archive of Port Phillip and New Zealand Protectorates to illustrate the ways that language and communication work within colonial projects to support and extend colonial authority. Examining language acquisition by Protectors, it places attitudes to and use of Indigenous languages within the context of colonialism in each site, arguing that Indigenous voices in New Zealand were co-opted, and in Port Phillip were marginalised, in the service of divergent approaches to dispossessing Indigenous peoples from their land. The article also explores glimpses of Māori or Aboriginal experiences of humanitarianism, colonisation, and dispossession captured in this archive.

Objectives The aim of the present study was to provide descriptive planning data for a hospital-based Aboriginal Health Liaison Officer (AHLO) program, specifically quantifying episodes of care and outcomes within 28 days after discharge. Methods A follow-up study of Aboriginal in-patient hospital episodes was undertaken using person-based linked administrative data from four South Metropolitan hospitals in Perth, Western Australia (2006–11). Outcomes included 28-day deaths, emergency department (ED) presentations and in-patient re-admissions. Results There were 8041 eligible index admissions among 5113 individuals, with episode volumes increasing by 31% over the study period. Among patients 25 years and older, the highest ranking comorbidities included injury (47%), drug and alcohol disorders (41%), heart disease (40%), infection (40%), mental illness (31%) and diabetes (31%). Most events (96%) ended in a regular discharge. Within 28 days, 24% of events resulted in ED presentations and 20% resulted in hospital re-admissions. Emergency readmissions (13%) were twice as likely as booked re-admissions (7%). Stratified analyses showed poorer outcomes for older people, and for emergency and tertiary hospital admissions. Conclusions Future planning must address the greater service volumes anticipated. The high prevalence of comorbidities requires intensive case management to address case complexity. These data will inform the refinement of the AHLO program to improve in-patient experiences and outcomes. What is known about the topic? The health gap between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians is well documented. Aboriginal people have significantly higher hospital utilisation rates, as well as higher rates of complications, comorbidities and discharges against medical advice (DAMA). Aboriginal patients receive most of their specialist services in hospital; however, detailed person-based analyses are limited and planning is often based on crude data. What does this paper add? This is the first analysis of linked data focusing on Aboriginal patient flows and volume and 28-day health system outcomes following hospital admission for all causes in a large metropolitan setting. Because the data were linked, admissions belonging to a single episode of care were combined, ensuring that transfers were not counted as re-admissions. Linkage also allowed follow up across time. The results highlight the main disease groups for which Aboriginal patients are admitted, how this varies by age and the high proportion of patients returning to (any) hospital within 28 days, either through EDs or as booked (pre-arranged) admissions. These data aid in the planning of hospital-based Aboriginal health liaison services. What are the implications for practitioners? The paper outlines the complexity with which many Aboriginal patients present to hospital and the risk of DAMA and re-admission. Clinical and organisational strategies can be put in place in hospitals to address these risks and ensure improved continuity of care with community-based primary health services. The Western Australian South Metropolitan Health Service is reviewing these data and will monitor the impact of the hospital-based AHLO program.

The development of pronouns, copulas, and other key features of Chinese Pidgin English (CPE) is traced from 1743 onwards. Major grammatical and lexical changes in the early 19th century are found to coincide with the period when foreigners were increasingly allowed to reside in Canton instead of merely being tolerated as transient visitors. The resulting continuity of interaction between Chinese and non-Chinese is seen as the catalyst for these developments in CPE. First attestations of 34 key features in CPE are compared with their earliest occurrence (if any) in more than a dozen Pacific varieties of Pidgin English (PPE). It is shown that none of the latter can possibly be a "direct descendant" of CPE. While four features exclusively shared by CPE and PPE indicate a modest degree of CPE influence on PPE, it is suggested that three key features of PPE, found only sporadically and/or tardily in CPE, provide evidence of some hitherto unsuspected influence of PPE on CPE. In the course of the above it is noted that most of the CPE features which also occur in three or more varieties of PPE have their earliest PPE attestation in New South Wales, the only Pacific territory in which there was continuity of interaction (in this case between Aborigines and whites) from the outset, and it is claimed that this social circumstance favors both the expansion and stabilization of a pidgin. Data from early Australian Pidgin English are presented showing that it includes the earliest known attestations of a number of features generally associated with PPE of the islands of the Southwest Pacific. This leads to the claim that New South Wales Pidgin English was a far more important influence on the PPE of those islands than what has often been termed "South Sea Jargon." After reviewing the linguistic implications of the labor trade which took many Pacific islanders to work on plantations in Queensland, Samoa, and elsewhere, it is claimed that the interrelationships between the many varieties of Pidgin English spoken, currently or formerly, in the vast area from China to Hawaii to the Marquesas to Australia and back to China cannot adequately be represented by means of "family tree" type diagrams.

Objective Government expenditure on and the number of aged care facilities in Australia have increased consistently since 1995. As a result, a range of aged care policy changes have been implemented. Data on demographics and utilisation are important in determining the effects of policy on residential aged care services. Yet, there are surprisingly few statistical summaries in the peer-reviewed literature on the profile of Australian aged care residents or trends in service utilisation. Therefore, the aim of the present study was to characterise the demographic profile and utilisation of a large cohort of residential aged care residents, including trends over a 3-year period. Methods We collected 3 years of data (2011–14) from 77 residential aged care facilities and assessed trends and differences across five demographic and three service utilisation variables. Results The median age at admission over the 3-year period remained constant at 86 years. There were statistically significant decreases in separations to home (z = 2.62, P = 0.009) and a 1.35% increase in low care admissions. Widowed females made up the majority (44.75%) of permanent residents, were the oldest and had the longest lengths of stay. One-third of permanent residents had resided in aged care for 3 years or longer. Approximately 30% of residents were not born in Australia. Aboriginal residents made up less than 1% of the studied population, were younger and had shorter stays than non-Aboriginal residents. Conclusion The analyses revealed a clear demographic profile and consistent pattern of utilisation of aged care facilities. There have been several changes in aged care policy over the decades. The analyses outlined herein illustrate how community, health services and public health data can be used to inform policy, monitor progress and assess whether intended policy has had the desired effects on aged care services. What is known about the topic? Characterisation of permanent residents and their utilisation of residential aged care facilities is poorly described in the peer-reviewed literature. Further, publicly available government reports are incomplete or characterised using incomplete methods. What does this paper add? The analyses in the present study revealed a clear demographic profile and consistent pattern of utilisation of aged care facilities. The most significant finding of the study is that one-third of permanent residents had resided in an aged care facility for ≥3 years. These findings add to the overall picture of residential aged care utilisation in Australia. What are the implications for practitioners? The analyses outlined herein illustrate how community, health services and public health data can be utilised to inform policy, monitor progress and assess whether or not intended policy has had the desired effects on aged care services.

The article deals with the process of formation and development of the Australian English language, characterizes its present-day lexical, stylistic and phonetic features. It has been found out that the Australian variety of the English language was formed as a result of interaction and development of dialects, colloquialisms, slang, through which the first settlers and emigrants from Great Britain, the United States and other countries of the world communicated. As far as everyday vocabulary is concerned, Australian English shares words and phrases with both British and American English, but also has some terminology of its own. Some elements of Aboriginal languages were incorporated into Australian English, mainly as names for the indigenous flora and fauna, as well as extensive borrowings for place names. Australian English has its own characteristic lexical and stylistic features such as a small number of words from Aboriginal languages; formation of new lexical units by extending pre-existing meanings of words; novel compounds; novel fixed phrases; coinage of lexical units; application of vocabulary from British regional dialects; unique means of imagery (metaphors and similes) that reflect the national Australian authenticity. The most common ways of forming Australian slang vocabulary have been described. A unique set of diminutive forms and abbreviations in Australian English has been exemplified. Australianisms have been defined as words or phrases that either originated or acquired new meanings in Australia and are widely used in everyday Australian English. Australians have a distinct accent, which varies between social classes and is sometimes claimed to vary from state to state, although this is disputed. The difference between the three major Australian accents (Broad Australian, General Australian, and Cultivated Australian) has been highlighted. Cultivated Australian is considered to be closely approaching British Received Pronunciation and Broad Australian – vigorously exhibiting distinctive regional features.

Makasar is an Austronesian language belonging to the South Sulawesi subgroup within the large Western-Malayo Polynesian family. It is spoken by about two million people in the province of South Sulawesi in Indonesia, and is the second largest language on the island of Sulawesi (behind Bugis, with about three million speakers). The phonology is notable for the large number of geminate and pre-glottalised consonant sequences, while the morphology is characterised by highly productive affixation and pervasive encliticisation of pronominal and aspectual elements. The language has a literary tradition including detailed local histories (Cummings 2002), and over the centuries has been represented orthographically in many ways: with two indigenous Indic or aksara-based scripts, a system based on Arabic script, and a variety of Romanised conventions. From at least the early 18th century Macassan sailors travelled regularly to northern Australia to collect and process trepang or sea cucumber (Macknight 1976), and many loanwords passed into Aboriginal languages of the northern part of Australia (Evans 1992, 1997).

Objectives Indigenous Australians experience cumulative forms of oppression. Using intersectionality as the underlying analytical framework, and with oral health as an outcome, we demonstrate how oppressions are interlinked and cannot be treated in isolation. The study aimed to quantify the cumulative effect of two forms of oppression on Indigenous Australian oral health inequities. Methods This observational study was conducted Feb 2018—Jan 2020. Recruitment occurred through Aboriginal Community Controlled Health Organisations in South Australia, Australia. Eligibility included identifying as Indigenous, residing in South Australia and aged 18+ years. Socio-demographic factors, health-related characteristics, experience of racism, negative life events and self-reported oral health outcomes were collected. The main outcomes were fair/poor self-rated oral health and oral health related quality of life, measured by OHIP-14. Effect-measure modification was used to verify differences on effect sizes per strata of negative life events and racism. The presence of modification was indicated by Relative Excess Risk due to Interactions (RERIs). Results Data were obtained for 1,011 participants, median age 37 years, 66% female and 63% residing in non-metropolitan locations. Over half (52%) had experienced racism in the past 12 months and 85% had experienced one or more negative life events. Around one-third (34%) rated their oral health as fair/poor and the mean OHIP-14 score was 17. A higher proportion of participants who had experienced both racism and negative life events (46%) were male (52%), aged 37+ years (47%), resided in metropolitan locations (57%), reported difficulty paying a $100 dental bill (47%), had fair/poor self-rated oral health (54%) and higher mean OHIP-14 scores (20). The RERIs observed were 0.31 for fair/poor self-rated oral health and 0.23 for mean OHIP-14. The positive RERIs indicated a super-additive effect between racism, negative life events (effect modifier) and self-reported oral health outcomes. Conclusion The more oppressions participants experienced, in the form of racism and negative life events, the greater the burden of poor self-reported oral health. The study is one of the first to use intersectionality as a theory to explain oral health inequities as experienced by Indigenous Australians.

Prisoners represent a group containing the highest problem gambling (PG) rate found in any population. PG is of particular concern among Indigenous Australians. Little data exist concerning PG rates among Indigenous Australian prisoners. The present study aimed to address this gap in the literature by examining the lifetime prevalence of PG among male prisoners, whilst identifying prisoners of Aboriginal background. The EIGHT Gambling Screen (Early Intervention Gambling Health Test) was administered to 296 prisoners across three male prisons in South Australia. Previous help-seeking behaviour and forms of gambling were also examined. Sixty percent of prisoners indicated a lifetime prevalence of PG with 18% reporting they were incarcerated due to offending relating to their gambling problem. Indigenous Australian prisoners indicated a significantly higher prevalence of PG (75%) than non-Indigenous prisoners (57%) and reported less than half the rate of help-seeking. Given the high levels of PG and overall low rates of help-seeking among prisoners, prisons may provide an important opportunity to engage this high-risk population with effective treatment programs, in particular culturally appropriate targeted interventions for Australian Indigenous prisoners.

Developing high-quality and culturally responsive maternal and infant health services is a critical part of ‘closing the gap’ in health disparities between Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people and other Australians. The National Maternity Services Plan led work that describes and recommends Birthing on Country best-practice maternity care adaptable from urban to very remote settings, yet few examples exist in Australia. This paper demonstrates Birthing on Country principles can be applied in the urban setting, presenting our experience establishing and developing a Birthing on Country partnership service model in Brisbane, Australia. An initial World Café workshop effectively engaged stakeholders, consumers and community members in service planning, resulting in a multiagency partnership program between a large inner city hospital and two local Aboriginal Community-Controlled Health Services (ACCHS). The Birthing in Our Community program includes: 24/7 midwifery care in pregnancy to six weeks postnatal by a named midwife, supported by Indigenous health workers and a team coordinator; partnership with the ACCHS; oversight from a steering committee, including Indigenous governance; clinical and cultural supervision; monthly cultural education days; and support for Indigenous student midwives through cadetships and placement within the partnership. Three years in, the partnership program is proving successful with clients, as well as showing early signs of improved maternal and infant health outcomes. What is known about the topic? Birthing on Country has been described as a metaphor for the best start in life for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander babies, and services that incorporate Birthing on Country principles can improve outcomes for mothers and babies. Currently, few such models exist in Australia. What does this paper add? This paper demonstrates that Birthing on Country principles can be successfully applied to the urban context. We present a real case example of the experience of setting up one such best-practice, community-engaged and informed partnership model of maternity and child healthcare in south-east Queensland. We share our experience using a World Café to facilitate community engagement, service delivery and workforce planning. What are the implications for practitioners? Health professionals providing maternity care for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander families are encouraged to incorporate Birthing on Country principles into their model of care to address the specific needs and demands of the local Indigenous community and improve maternal and infant health outcomes.

IntroductionAchieving parenthood is challenging in individuals receiving renal replacement therapy (RRT; dialysis or kidney transplantation) for end-stage kidney disease. Decision-making regarding parenthood in RRT recipients should be underpinned by robust data, yet there is limited data on parental factors that drive adverse health outcomes. Therefore, we aim to investigate the perinatal risks and outcomes in parents receiving RRT.Methods and analysisThis is a multijurisdictional probabilistic data linkage study of perinatal, hospital, birth, death and renal registers from 1991 to 2013 from New South Wales, Western Australia, South Australia and the Australian Capital Territory. This study includes all babies born ≥20 weeks’ gestation or 400 g birth weight captured through mandated data collection in the perinatal data sets. Through linkage with the Australian and New Zealand Dialysis and Transplant (ANZDATA) registry, babies exposed to RRT (and their parents) will be compared with babies who have not been exposed to RRT (and their parents) to determine obstetric and fetal outcomes, birth rates and fertility rates. One of the novel aspects of this study is the method that will be used to link fathers receiving RRT to the mothers and their babies within the perinatal data sets, using the birth register, enabling the identification of family units. The linked data set will be used to validate the parenthood events directly reported to ANZDATA.Ethics and disseminationEthics approval was obtained from Human Research Ethics Committees (HREC) and Aboriginal HREC in each jurisdiction. Findings of this study will be disseminated at scientific conferences and in peer-reviewed journals in tabular and aggregated forms. De-identified data will be presented and individual patients will not be identified. We will aim to present findings to relevant stakeholders (eg, patients, clinicians and policymakers) to maximise translational impact of research findings.

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Soetanto, Alan Feinstein (eds.) - E.P. Wieringa, Wouter Smit, De islam binnen de horizon; Een missiologische studie over de benadering van de islam door vier Nederlandse zendingscorporaties (1797-1951). Zoetermeer: Boekencentrum, 1995, xix + 312 pp. [MISSION 11].

Saami, Danish archaeology and the origin of the DanesWith the Romantic Movement came a need for the Danish people to have a national identity. That is, a history, a language and, in broad terms, a culture. At the end of the 18th century, it was said that the Danes came from Troy with Odin, while in 1814 Rasmus Rask established a link between the Scandinavian tongues and the civilised languages of Greek and Latin, with roots extending back to Sanskrit. In the mindset of Roman­ticism, people and culture were organic and cohesive entities. Consequently, when Christian Jürgensen Thomsen discovered the Stone Age, the question arose as to the identity of the people to whom this technology belonged. It could clearly not be the Danes, because they had never had stone technology but always agriculture and iron, as was evident from Classical Antiquity’s accounts of the Goths.According to this cultural-historical app­roach, there was only one possible explanation: the Finns or Saami were the original people in Denmark. Rasmus Rask confirmed this by finding Finnish words in Danish place names, and a major study by the great Swedish archaeologist Sven Nilsson came to the same conclusion. But the reputation of the Finns since Classical Antiquity, with their homeland in the far north, was of such a demonic character that Danish archaeologists had no desire either to see them as the original inhabitants of Denmark or later, with the advent of modernity, as the ancestors of the Danish people. The Finns, “the Skrithiphinoi”, were namely, as inhabitants of the outer fringes, one of the three most demonised peoples in the world. The two others were, from the middle of the 17th century, the Khoikhoi, “the Hottentots”, in the far south, and, from the end of the 18th century, the Australian aborigines, “the Blackfellows”, as the ultimately most distant peoples in relation to Europe.To explain Danish archaeology’s view of the Finns, it is shown how they were demonised over time. Reference is made to the important criteria in each epoch, from Classical Antiquity’s secular condemnation of this most distant northern people – more distant and wretched than the Scythians – through Christianity’s vilification of their witchcraft and magic and the Age of Enlightenment’s focus on racial hierarchy, to the Romantic Movement’s ideas about peoples as self-­contained and virtually eternal entities. The article concludes with a discussion of why it was so important for Danish archaeology, in the 19th and early 20th century, to deny any connection between the Saami and Denmark’s early history.Ole HøirisAfdeling for AntropologiInstitut for Kultur og SamfundAarhus Universitete

- M.A. van Bakel, H. Esen-Baur, Untersuchungen über den vogelmann-kult auf der Osterinsel, 1983, Franz Steiner Verlag GmbH, 399 pp. - Leen Boer, Bronislaw Malinowski, Malinowski in Mexico. The economics of a Mexican market system, edited and with an introduction by Susan Drucker-Brown, London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1982 (International Library of Anthropology)., Julio de la Fuente (eds.) - A.P. Borsboom, Betty Meehan, Shell bed to shell midden, Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, Canberra, 1982. - H.J.M. Claessen, Peter Geschiere, Village communities and the state. Changing relations among the Maka of Southeastern Cameroon since the colonial conquest. Monographs of the African Studies Centre, Leiden. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul Ltd. 1982. 512 pp. Appendices, index, bibliography, etc. - H.J.M. Claessen, Jukka Siikala, Cult and conflict in tropical Polynesia; A study of traditional religion, Christianity and Nativistic movements, Helsinki: Academia Scientiarum Fennica, 1982, 308 pp. Maps, figs., bibliography. - H.J.M. Claessen, Alain Testart, Les Chasseurs-Cueilleurs ou l’Origine des Inégalités, Mémoires de la Sociéte d’Ethnographie 26, Paris 1982. 254 pp., maps, bibliography and figures. - Walter Dostal, Frederik Barth, Sohar - Culture and society in an Omani town. Baltimore - London: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1983, 264 pp., ill. - Benno Galjart, G.J. Kruyer, Bevrijdingswetenschap. Een partijdige visie op de Derde Wereld [Emancipatory Science. A partisan view of the Third World], Meppel: Boom, 1983. - Sjaak van der Geest, Christine Okali, Cocoa and kinship in Ghana: The matrilineal Akan of Ghana. London: Kegan Paul International (in association with the International African Institute), 1983. 179 pp., tables, index. - Serge Genest, Claude Tardits, Contribution de la recherche ethnologique à l’histoire des civilisations du Cameroun / The contribution of enthnological research to the history of Cameroun cultures. Paris, CNRS, 1981, two tomes, 597 pp. - Silvia W. de Groot, Sally Price, Co-wives and calabashes, Ann Arbor, The University of Michigan Press, 1984, 224 p., ill. - N.O. Kielstra, Gene R. Garthwaite, Khans and Shahs. A documentary analysis of the Bakhtiary in Iran, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1983. 213 pp. - G.L. Koster, Jeff Opland, Xhosa oral poetry. Aspects of a black South African tradition, Cambridge Studies in oral and literate culture 7, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge , London, New York, New Rochelle, Melbourne, Sydney, 1983, XII + 303 pp. - Adam Kuper, Hans Medick, Interest and emotion: Essays on the study of family and kinship, Cambridge University Press, 1984., David Warren Sabean (eds.) - C.A. van Peursen, Peter Kloos, Antropologie als wetenschap. Coutinho, Muidenberg 1984 (204 p.). - Jerome Rousseau, Jeannine Koubi, Rambu solo’: “la fumée descend”. Le culte des morts chez les Toradja du Sud. Paris: Editions du CNRS, 1982. 530 pages, 3 maps, 73 pictures. - H.C.G. Schoenaker, Miklós Szalay, Ethnologie und Geschichte: zur Grundlegung einer ethnologischen geschichtsschreibung; mit beispielen aus der Geschichte der Khoi-San in Südafrika. Dietrich Reimer Verlag, Berlin 1983, 292 S. - F.J.M. Selier, Ghaus Ansari, Town-talk, the dynamics of urban anthropology, 170 pp., Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1983., Peter J.M. Nas (eds.) - A.A. Trouwborst, Serge Tcherkézoff, Le Roi Nyamwezi, la droite et la gauche. Revision comparative des classifications dualistes. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, Paris:Éditions de la Maison des sciences de l’homme, 1983, 154 pp. - Pieter van der Velde, H. Boekraad, Te Elfder Ure 32: Verwantschap en produktiewijze, Jaargang 26 nummer 3 (maart 1983)., G. van den Brink, R. Raatgever (eds.) - E.Ch.L. van der Vliet, Sally Humphreys, The family, women and death. Comparative studies. London, Boston etc.: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1983 (International Library of Anthropology). xiv + 210 pp. - W.F. Wertheim, T. Svensson, Indonesia and Malaysia. Scandinavian Studies in Contemporary Society. Scandinavian Institute of Asian Studies: Studies on Asian Topics no. 5. London and Malmö: Curzon Press, 1983, 282 pp., P. Sørensen (eds.) - H.O. Willems, Detlef Franke, Altägyptische verwandtschaftsbezeichnungen im Mittleren Reich, Hamburg, Verlag Born GmbH, 1983.

The Routledge Handbook of language and culture represents a comprehensive study on the inextricable relationship between language and culture. It is structured into seven parts and 33 chapters. Part 1, Overview and historical background, by Farzad Sharifian, starts with an outline of the book and a synopsis of research on language and culture. The second chapter, John Leavitt’s Linguistic relativity: precursors and transformations discusses further the historical development of the concept of linguistic relativity, identifying different schools’ of thought views on the relation between language and culture. He also tries to demystify some misrepresentations held towards Boas, Sapir, and Whorf’ theories (pp. 24-26). Chapter 3, Ethnosyntax, by Anna Gladkova provides an overview of research on ethnosyntax, starting from the theoretical basis laid by Sapir and Whorf and investigates the differences between a narrow sense of ethnosyntax, which focuses on cultural meanings of various grammatical structures and a broader sense, which emphasises the pragmatic and cultural norms’ impact on the choice of grammatical structures. John Leavitt presents in the fourth chapter, titled Ethnosemantics, a historical account of research on meaning across cultures, introducing three traditions, i.e. ‘classical’ ethnosemantics (also referred to as ethnoscience or cognitive anthropology), Boasian cultural semantics (linguistically inspired anthropology) and Neohumboldtian comparative semantics (word-field theory, or content-oriented Linguistics). In Chapter 5, Goddard underlines the fact that ethnopragmatics investigates emic (or culture-internal) approaches to the use of different speech practices across various world languages, which accounts for the fact that there exists a connection between the cultural values or norms and the speech practices peculiar to a speech community. One of the key objectives of ethnopragmatics is to investigate ‘cultural key words’, i.e. words that encapsulate culturally construed concepts. The concept of ‘linguaculture’ (or languaculture) is tackled in Risager’s Chapter 6, Linguaculture: the language–culture nexus in transnational perspective. The author makes reference to American scholars that first introduced this notion, Paul Friedrich, who looks at language and culture as a single domain in which verbal aspects of culture are mingled with semantic meanings, and Michael Agar, for whom culture resides in language while language is loaded with culture. Risager himself brought forth a new global and transnational perspective on the concept of linguaculture, i.e. the use of language (linguistic practice) is seen as flows in people’s social networks and speech communities. These flows enhance as people migrate or learn new languages, in permanent dynamics. Lidia Tanaka’s Chapter 7, Language, gender, and culture deals with research on language, gender, and culture. According to her, the language-gender relationship has been studied by researchers from various fields, including psychology, linguistics, and anthropology, who mainly consider gender as a construct that preserves inequalities in society, with the help of language, too. Tanaka lists diachronically different approaches to language and gender, focusing on three specific ones: gender stereotyped linguistic resources, semantically, pragmatically or lexically designated language features (including register) and gender-based spoken discourse strategies (talking-time imbalances or interruptions). In Chapter 8, Language, culture, and context, Istvan Kecskes delves into the relationship between language, culture, and context from a socio-cognitive perspective. The author considers culture to be a set of shared knowledge structures that encapsulate the values, norms, and customs that the members of a society have in common. According to him, both language and context are rooted in culture and carriers of it, though reflecting culture in a different way. Language encodes past experience with different contexts, whereas context reflects present experience. The author also provides relevant examples of formulaic language that demonstrate the functioning of both types of context, within the larger interplay between language, culture, and context. Sara Miller’s Chapter 9, Language, culture, and politeness reviews traditional approaches to politeness research, with particular attention given to ‘discursive approach’ to politeness. Much along the lines of the previous chapter, Miller stresses the role of context in judgements of (im)polite language, maintaining that individuals represent active agents who challenge and negotiate cultural as well as linguistic norms in actual communicative contexts. Chapter 10, Language, culture, and interaction, by Peter Eglin focuses on language, culture and interaction from the perspective of the correspondence theory of meaning. According to him, abstracting language and culture from their current uses, as if they were not interdependent would not lead to an understanding of words’ true meaning. David Kronenfeld introduces in Chapter 11, Culture and kinship language, a review of research on culture and kinship language, starting with linguistic anthropology. He explains two formal analytic definitional systems of kinship terms: the semantic (distinctions between kin categories, i.e. father vs mother) and pragmatic (interrelations between referents of kin terms, i.e. ‘nephew’ = ‘child of a sibling’). Chapter 12, Cultural semiotics, by Peeter Torop deals with the field of ‘semiotics of culture’, which may refer either to methodological instrument, to a whole array of methods or to a sub-discipline of general semiotics. In this last respect, it investigates cultures as a form of human symbolic activity, as well as a system of cultural languages (i.e. sign systems). Language, as “the preserver of the culture’s collective experience and the reflector of its creativity” represents an essential component of cultural semiotics, being a major sign system. Nigel Armstrong, in Chapter 13, Culture and translation, tackles the interrelation between language, culture, and translation, with an emphasis on the complexities entailed by translation of culturally laden aspects. In his opinion, culture has a double-sided dimension: the anthropological sense (referring to practices and traditions which characterise a community) and a narrower sense, related to artistic endeavours. However, both sides of culture permeate language at all levels. Chapter 14, Language, culture, and identity, by Sandra Schecter tackles several approaches to research on language, culture, and identity: social anthropological (the limits at play in the social construction of differences between various groups of people), sociocultural (the interplay between an individual’s various identities, which can be both externally and internally construed, in sociocultural contexts), participatory-relational (the manner in which individuals create their social–linguistic identities). Patrick McConvell, in Chapter 15, Language and culture history: the contribution of linguistic prehistory reviews research in this field where historical linguistic evidence is exploited in the reconstruction and understanding of prehistoric cultures. He makes an account of research in linguistic prehistory, with a focus on proto- and early Indo-European cultures, on several North American language families, on Africa, Australian, and Austronesian Aboriginal languages. McConvell also underlines the importance of interdisciplinary research in this area, which greatly benefits from studies in other disciplines, such as archaeology, palaeobiology, or biological genetics. Part four starts with Ning Yu’s Chapter 16, Embodiment, culture, and language, which gives an account of theory and research on the interplay between language, culture, and body, as seen from the standpoint of Cultural Linguistics. Yu presents a survey of embodiment (in embodied cognition research) from a multidisciplinary perspective, starting with the rather universalistic Conceptual Metaphor Theory. On the other hand, Cultural Linguistics has concentrated on the role played by culture in shaping embodied language, as various cultures conceptualise body and bodily experience in different ways. Chapter 17, Culture and language processing, by Crystal Robinson and Jeanette Altarriba deals with research in the field of how culture influence language processing, in particular in the case of bilingualism and emotion, alongside language and memory. Clearly, the linguistic and cultural character of each individual’s background has to be considered as a variable in research on cognition and cognitive processing. Frank Polzenhagen and Xiaoyan Xia, in Chapter 18, Language, culture, and prototypicality bring forth a survey of prototypicality across different disciplines, including cognitive linguistics and cognitive psychology. According to them, linguistic prototypes play a critical part in social (re-)cognition, as they are socially diagnostic and function as linguistic identity markers. Moreover, individuals may develop ‘culturally blended concepts’ as a result of exposure to several systems of conceptual categorisation, especially in the case of L2 learning (language-contact or culture-contact situations). In Chapter 19, Colour language, thought, and culture, Don Dedrick investigates the issue of the colour words in different languages and how these influence cognition, a question that has been addressed by researchers from various disciplines, such as anthropology, linguistics, cognitive psychology, or neuroscience. He cannot but observe the constant debate in this respect, and he argues that it is indeed difficult to reach consensus, as colour language occasionally reveals effects of language on thought and, at other times, it is impervious to such effects. Chapter 20, Language, culture, and spatial cognition, by Penelope Brown concentrates on conceptualisations of space, providing a framework for thinking about and referring to objects and events, along with more abstract notions such as time, number, or kinship. She lists three frames of reference used by languages in order to refer to spatial relations, i.e. a) an ‘absolute’ coordinate system, like north, south, east, west; b) a ‘relative’ coordinate system envisaged from the body’s standpoint; and c) an intrinsic, object-centred coordinate system. Chris Sinha and Enrique Bernárdez focus on, in Chapter 21, Space, time, and space–time: metaphors, maps, and fusions, research on linguistic and cultural concepts of time and space, starting with the seminal Conceptual Metaphor Theory (CMT), which they denounce for failing to situate space–time mapping within the broader patterns of culture and world perspective. Sinha and Bernárdez further argue that although it is possible in all cultures for individuals to experience and discuss about events in terms of their duration and succession, the specific words and concepts they use to refer to temporal landmarks temporal and duration are most of the time language and culture specific. Chapter 22, Culture and language development, by Laura Sterponi and Paul Lai provides an account of research on the interplay between culture and language acquisition. They refer to two widely accepted perspectives in this respect: a developmental mechanism inherent in human beings and a set of particular social contexts in which children are ‘initiated’ into the cultural meaning systems. Both perspectives define culture as “both related to the psychological make-up of the individual and to the socio-historical contexts in which s/he is born and develops”. Anna Wierzbicka presents, in Chapter 23, Language and cultural scripts discusses representations of cultural norms which are encoded in language. She contends that the system of meaning interpretation developed by herself and her colleagues, i.e. Natural Semantic Metalanguage (NSM), may easily be used to capture and convey cultural scripts. Through NSM cross-cultural experiences can be captured in a thorough manner by using a reduced number of conceptual primes which seem to exist in all languages. Chapter 24, Culture and emotional language, by Jean-Marc Dewaele brings forth the issue of the relationship between language, culture, and emotion, which has been researched by cultural and cognitive psychologists and applied linguists alike, although with some differences in focus. He considers that within this context, it is important to see differences between emotion contexts in bilinguals, since these may lead to different perceptions of the self. He infers that generally, culture revolves around the experience and communication of emotions, conveyed through linguistic expression. The fifth part starts with Chapter 25, Language and culture in sociolinguistics, by Meredith Marra, who underlines that culture is a central concept in Interactional Sociolinguistics, where language is considered as social interaction. In linguistic interaction, culture, and especially cultural differences are deemed as a cause of potential miscommunication. Mara also remarks that the paradigm change in sociolinguistics, from Interactional Sociolinguistics to social constructionism reshaped ‘culture’ into a more dynamic as well as less rigid concept. Claudia Strauss’ Chapter 26, Language and culture in cognitive anthropology deals with the relationship between human society and human thought/thinking. The author contends that cognitive anthropologists may be subdivided into two groups, i.e. ones that are concerned with the process of thinking (cognition-in-practice scholars), and the others focusing on the product of thinking or thoughts (concerned with shared cultural understandings). She goes on to explore how different approaches to cognitive anthropology have counted on units of language, i.e. lexical items and their meanings, along with larger chunks of discourse, as information, which may represent learned cultural schemata. Part VI starts with Chapter 27, Language and culture in second language learning, by Claire Kramsch, in which she makes a survey of the definition of ‘culture’ in foreign language learning and its evolution from a component of literature and the arts to a more comprehensive purport, that of culturally appropriate use of language, along with an appropriate use of sociopragmatic and pragmalinguistic norms. According to her, in the postmodern era, communication is not only mere transmission of information, it represents construal and positioning of the self and of self-identity. Chapter 28, Writing across cultures: ‘culture’ in second language writing studies, by Dwight Atkinson focuses on the usefulness of culture in second-language writing (SLW). He reviews several approaches to the issue: contrastive rhetoric (dealing with the impact of first-language patterns of text organisation on writers in a second language), or even alternate notions, like‘ cosmopolitanism’, ‘critical multiculturalism’, and hybridity, as of late native culture is becoming irrelevant or at best far less significant. Ian Malcolm tackles, in Chapter 29, Language and culture in second dialect learning, the issue of ‘standard’ Englishes (e.g., Standard American English, Standard Australian English) versus minority ‘non-standard’ speakers of English. He deplores the fact that in US specialist literature, speaking the ‘non-standard’ variety of English was associated with cognitive, cultural, and linguistic insufficiency. He further refers to other specialists who have demonstrated that ‘non-standard’ varieties can be just as systematic and highly structured as the standard variety. Chapter 30, Language and culture in intercultural communication, by Hans-Georg Wolf gives an account of research in intercultural education, focusing on several paradigms, i.e. the dominant one, investigating successful functioning in intercultural encounters, the minor one, exploring intercultural understanding and the ‘deconstructionist, and or postmodernist’. He further examines different interpretations of the concepts associated with intercultural communication, including the functionalist school, the intercultural understanding approach and a third one, the most removed from culture, focusing on socio-political inequalities, fluidity, situationality, and negotiability. Andy Kirkpatrick’s Chapter 31, World Englishes and local cultures gives a synopsis of research paradigm from applied linguistics which investigates the development of Englishes around the world, through processes like indigenisation or nativisation of the language. Kirkpatrick discusses the ways in which new Englishes accommodate the culture of the very speech community which develops them, e.g. adopting lexical items to express to express culture-specific concepts. Speakers of new varieties could use pragmatic norms rooted in cultural values and norms of the specific new speech community which have not previously been associated with English. Moreover, they can use these new Englishes to write local literatures, often exploiting culturally preferred rhetorical norms. Part seven starts with Chapter 32, Cultural Linguistics, by Farzad Sharifian gives an account of the recent multidisciplinary research field of Cultural Linguistics, which explores the relationship between language and cultural cognition, particularly in the case of cultural conceptualisations. Sharifian also brings forth illustrations of how cultural conceptualisations may be linguistically encoded. The last chapter, A future agenda for research on language and culture, by Roslyn Frank provides an appraisal of Cultural Linguistics as a prospective path for research in the field of language and culture. She states that ‘Cultural Linguistics could potentially create a paradigm that “successfully melds together complementary approaches, e.g., viewing language as ‘a complex adaptive system’ and bringing to bear upon it concepts drawn from cognitive science such as ‘distributed cognition’ and ‘multi-agent dynamic systems theory’.” She further asserts that Cultural Linguistics has the potential to function as “a bridge that brings together researchers from a variety of fields, allowing them to focus on problems of mutual concern from a new perspective” and most likely unveil new issues (as well as solutions) which have not been evident so far. In conclusion, the Handbook will most certainly serve as clear and coherent guidelines for scholarly thinking and further research on language and culture, and also open up new investigative vistas in each of the areas tackled.

In a letter responding to the Federal Government’s refusal to offer a formal apology to the ‘Stolen Generation’ of Indigenous Australians, members of the Vietnamese-Australian community expressed an understanding (often lacked by Anglo-Australians) of the need to appreciate their position as migrants in relation to the Indigenous community: "We are here now, living in cities and towns that once were their hunting grounds, their camping places, their sacred sites. We are the beneficiaries of their dispossession, and we acknowledge their loss. We understand about the loss of home, family and cultural values, and we too would like to express our deep sorrow to all indigenous Australians for their suffering and offer our support for genuine reconciliation." (Le and Nguyen 14) This letter remains one of the few instances in which the contemporary positioning of migrant and Indigenous peoples is discussed in relation to one another. It is demonstrative of some of the points of continuity between the ways Aboriginal and migrant collectivities (especially those who are racially ‘marked’) experience Australian society but, more often than not, these connections remain under-theorised. In Australian debates concerning the significance of descent, belonging and culture, there have been two distinct, yet connected currents (Curthoys 21). One of these debates concerns the positioning of Indigenous and settler Australians within a (continuing) history of colonisation and genocide. The other debate centres on immigration, multiculturalism and ethnic/cultural diversity. Ghassan Hage argues that such distinctions are a reflection of a white governmental tendency that conceives ‘white-Aboriginal’ and ‘Anglo-Ethnic’ relations in oppositional terms. The whites "relating to Aboriginal people appear as totally unaffected by multiculturalism, while the ‘Anglos’ relating to the ‘ethnics’ appear as if they have no Aboriginal question about which to worry" (24). It is only since the mid to late 1990s that debates on both Indigenous and immigration policies (re-ignited by independent member of parliament Pauline Hanson in 1996) have been explicitly connected. This article examines the ambiguous and often strained relationship between the positioning of Indigenous and migrant peoples in contemporary Australian society. While the above letter suggests a degree of sympathy and empathy between recent migrant collectivities and Aboriginal people, such a level of recognition and understanding cannot be taken for granted. The following account of Aboriginal-migrant relations indicates that these are structured by both "complex conflicts and points of solidarity" (Perera and Pugliese 5). Given that both diasporic and Indigenous communities can be the targets of white supremacist ideologies and hostilities, some commonalities between these collectivities become apparent. The "attraction of outsiders to fellow outsiders, the stranger (the [I]ndigenous made a stranger in her or his own land) to the stranger from elsewhere" (Docker and Fischer 15), can result in the creation of common interests and affiliations. However, diasporic communities do not share the same history of colonisation (in Australia, at least) with Indigenous Australians, and may be perceived as yet another set of invaders. Just like the colonisers, more recent migrants are beneficiaries of the original dispossession and (continuing) colonisation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Australians. The Indigenous and the Diasporic: Tensions and Uncertainties The shared knowledge of being located on the margins of white Australian society has enabled Aboriginal and non-white racial minorities to see many similarities in their circumstances and experiences. Both Aboriginal and non-Anglo migrant collectivities have largely been excluded from dominant ideologies of Australian national belonging. Those migrants who have come to Australia as refugees can often appreciate the feelings of cultural domination and loss that many Aboriginal people experience on a daily basis. Both Aboriginal and NESB collectivities have also come under pressure to adopt the assumed monolithic Australian culture. The assimilation policy offered a chance for Aborigines and NESB migrants to ‘fit in’, but this was on the proviso that they conform. Both NESB and Aboriginal communities experience ongoing structural disadvantages in Australian society and its economy. These collectivities can also suffer discrimination and hostility in their social relations with fellow Australians. Despite these similarities, however, there is often a lack of identification between Aboriginal and migrant collectivities. Australian Indigenous and immigrant peoples have very divergent histories and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people often resist being drawn under the rubric of multiculturalism. Instead, many Indigenous Australians have attacked multiculturalism, claiming that the idea of the equal validity of every culture "reduces them to the status of just another ethnic minority" (Bulbeck 273). Many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people wish to reinforce their status as the ‘first’ or Indigenous peoples of this country; an insistence that does not necessarily assist recognition of the ways in which racism and ethnocentrism impact upon ‘Other’ minorities. Another reason for the relative lack of engagement between Indigenous and diasporic communities is that the political agenda of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people is different from that of other minority collectivities. Indigenous activists have expressed understandable and substantiated fears that the focus on multiculturalism not only overlooks the Indigenous status of Aborigines as ‘first peoples’, but can distract attention from the issues of land rights and Native Title (Gunew 455). Lois O’Donoghue recognises both advantages and disadvantages in contemporary multiculturalism: "Perhaps Aboriginal people have benefited from the greater appreciation of cultural diversity which has resulted from the admission of other points of view". However, "we are the original inhabitants of this land, and our sufferings, past and present, make some form of special recognition a moral imperative" (qtd. in Bulbeck 274). Another difficulty lies is that newly arrived migrants are extended various social rights and privileges that have only relatively recently been granted to Indigenous Australians. Many Indigenes have resented the fact that new groups may be better treated than themselves, with some migrants taking on "the racist stereotypes of Anglo-Australian society" (Vasta 51). In Sang Ye’s interviews with various Chinese migrants in The Year the Dragon Came, for instance, one interviewee claimed that: "Nearly all the Aborigines are unemployed or refuse to take jobs that are available; they’re outside the pubs or on the grass getting drunk on beer" (182). These comments show very clearly that the common experiences of racism that many NESB and Aboriginal Australians share do not automatically guarantee understanding or political solidarity between the two groups (Perera and Pugliese 14). The above quotation also illustrates the way in which NESB Australians can reproduce dominant white Australian characterisations of contemporary Aboriginality. Aboriginal people continue to face popular conceptions of themselves as drunken, lazy, intellectually inferior, or as suitable only for servile or menial work (Morris 171-173). As Ruby Langford Ginibi maintains: They’ve got us stereotyped as nothing but lazy layabout boongs, you know, and they see a Koori fella staggering down the street charged up and they say, ‘Oh, they’re all like that,’ but they never stop, or pause to think, ‘Hey, what’s made this person like this?’ You can’t do what has been done to a race of people without it having disastrous results. (qtd. in Little 105 As long as Anglo- and NESB Australians focus on the low socioeconomic position of Aboriginal people without considering the lasting effects of colonialism, Aborigines will continually be cast as the culprits of their own positioning. Widely-circulated conservative ideologies that blame Aboriginal people for their own victimisation overlook the enduring legacies of colonisation. As Arthur Corunna states in Sally Morgan’s My Place: "You see, the trouble is that colonialism isn’t over yet" (212). According to Suvendrini Perera and Joseph Pugliese, "[i]t is vital that the structural disadvantages and racisms faced by indigenous peoples not be relegated to history, but be seen as ongoing in contemporary Australia" (10). Many Aboriginal communities also feel that because migrants have not, in Australia at least, suffered the same extent of cultural domination, they are less disadvantaged. John Docker argues that each individual in 1788 and since who has come to Australia, however variegated their experiences and "however much there has been racism and ethnocentrism and differential access to power ha[s] benefited from the original invasion and dispossession of the Aboriginal peoples, and still benefit[s]" (54). For Aboriginal people migrant groups could be seen as another set of invaders, "not brothers and sisters on the margins, not the fellow oppressed and dispossessed" (Docker 54). Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people have thus avoided conflating their own political agendas – at the foreground of which are land rights and Native Title – with the very different concerns of various migrant communities (Brewster 16). Many Aboriginal people feel that because those migrating to Australia can retain their language, and often have families or communities to go to, they are less disadvantaged. Langford Ginibi’s comments are illustrative: Even the people who migrate here are on a higher social level than we are, and we’re the first people of this land! My people were forced to give away using our language and culture, and adopt the ways of the white man, but the people who migrated here don’t give away their language or culture to become Australian citizens." (52) In her autobiography Born a Half-Caste, Marnie Kennedy makes similar claims: "Every nationality in Australia is allowed to speak its language. They have their own gatherings. These are the things that make Aborigines very bitter because they were made to give up everything that was sacred to them" (4-5). Given the tensions and contradictions outlined above, long-lasting and productive relations between Aboriginal and NESB peoples can sometimes be difficult to forge, but it is important that NESB people recognise their responsibility in the ongoing dispossession of Indigenous Australians. NESB migrants (and all non-Aboriginal Australians) remain the beneficiaries of colonisation but, unlike their Anglo-Australian counterparts, non-white migrants have been racially marked and had their ability to claim the title ‘Australian’ questioned. Ongoing analysis of the positioning of NESB collectivities in relation to Aboriginal peoples will assist in undermining the central conflict of Black vs. white in reconciliation debates. Further research might also help disrupt the continuing cleavage of ‘the immigrant’ and ‘the Indigene’ in contemporary paradigms of reconciliation, providing a space for discussion on the potential role and contribution of NESB Australians to the reconciliation process. References Brewster, Anne. Literary Formations: Post-colonialism, Nationalism, Globalism. Carlton, Vic: Melbourne UP, 1995. Bulbeck, Chilla. Social Sciences in Australia: An Introduction. Sydney: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1993. Curthoys, Ann. "An Uneasy Conversation: The Multicultural and the Indigenous." Race, Colour and Identity in Australia and New Zealand. Eds. John Docker and Gerhard Fischer. Sydney: U of NSW P, 2000. 21-36. Docker, John. "The Temperament of Editors and a New Multicultural Orthodoxy." Island Magazine 48 (1991): 50-55. Docker, John, and Gerhard Fischer. "Adventures of Identity." Race, Colour and Identity in Australia and New Zealand. Eds. John Docker and Gerhard Fischer. Sydney: U of NSW P, 2000. 3-20. Gunew, Sneja. "Multicultural Multplicities: US, Canada, and Australia." Meanjin 52.3 (1993): 447-461. Kennedy, Marnie. Born a Half-Caste. Canberra: Australian Institute of Aboriginal Studies, 1985. Langford Ginibi, Ruby. My Bundjalung People. St. Lucia, Qld: U of Queensland P, 1994. Le, Thanh Van , and Thang Manh Nguyen. "Vietnamese and Aborigines: Letter." Age 3 Apr. 1998: 14. Little, Janine. "Talking with Ruby Langford Ginibi." Hecate 20.1 (1994): 100-121. Morgan, Sally. My Place. South Fremantle: Fremantle Arts Centre P, 1987. Morris, Barry. "Racism, Egalitarianism and Aborigines." Race Matters: Indigenous Australians and 'Our' Society. Eds. Gillian Cowlishaw and Barry Morris. Canberra: Aboriginal Studies P, 1997. 161-176. Perera, Suvendrini, and Joseph Pugliese. "Detoxifying Australia?" Migration Action 20.2 (1998): 4-18.

Australia is built upon a foundation of colonial conquest, and it continues to implement government policies and systems of management based on a colonising logic and the denial of Indigenous sovereignty. This study employed qualitative methods and discourse analysis to draw on the experiences of six non-Indigenous Australians employed by the South Australian Government in Aboriginal partnerships and natural resource management. Drawing on critical Whiteness studies, the article reveals that participants in this cohort are largely critical of colonial structures of government and the inequalities that arise. Despite this critical awareness, there was often a difficulty in finding a language to describe the fog of Whiteness, along with the tendency to describe ecological knowledge at the expense of more complex issues of First Nations sovereignty.

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