Статті в журналах з теми "Yolngu people"

Abstract Did you know that a Bathurst Islander captured the first Japanese prisoner of war on Australian soil? Or that a crucifix saved the life of a crashed American pilot in the Gulf of Carpentaria? These are excerpts from the rich array of oral histories of Aboriginal participation in World War II. This paper presents “highlights” from Yolngu oral histories of World War II in Arnhem Land, Northern Territory. Using these stories, the paper begins to explore some of the following questions: Why did Yolngu participate in the war effort? How did Yolngu see their role in relation to white Australia? In what ways did Yolngu contribute to the security of Australia? How integral was Yolngu assistance to defence of Australia? Although the answers to these questions are not finite, this paper aims to survey some of the Yolngu history of World War II.

The Indigenous peoples of north east Arnhem Land in Australia (Yolngu) overlay their culture with the customs and social behaviour of other societies to achieve positive outcomes and autonomy. Passing down cultural knowledge is intrinsic to the cultural identity of Yolngu. The paper discusses the recently completed Garma Cultural Knowledge Centre and examines the cultural knowledge conveyed through the medium of contemporary architecture design. The paper finds that the Garma Cultural Knowledge Centre combined aspects of non-Aboriginal and Aboriginal cultures to form a coherent whole with multi-facetted meanings. © 2016. The Authors. Published for AMER ABRA by e-International Publishing House, Ltd., UK. Peer–review under responsibility of AMER (Association of Malaysian Environment-Behaviour Researchers), ABRA (Association of Behavioural Researchers on Asians) and cE-Bs (Centre for Environment-Behaviour Studies, Faculty of Architecture, Planning & Surveying, Universiti Teknologi MARA, Malaysia.Keywords: People and environments; cultural knowledge; architecture; indigenous architecture

Bees, with their ability to make sweet tasting honey, have been highly valued across many human cultures spanning thousands of years. In relation to western husbandry techniques, honeybees (Apidae) have been domesticated by humans to produce honey in large quantities for human consumption. The focus of this paper is not on the well-known, widespread honeybee but a close family relative of the Apidae, the smaller, stingless bee (Meliponidae). For Yolngu living on country, in the homeland communities of northeast Arnhem Land, Australia the relationship with these local, endemic bees is quite different from the large-scale beekeeping industry used to pollinate major agricultural crops. A highly anticipated activity is sugarbag season where Yolngu men, women and children undertake excursions into the bush in search of these tiny bees to extract honey. The bee is celebrated through “Sugarbag Dreaming”: in song, dance, painting and ceremony. This paper examines some of the ways that people and bees converge in Arnhem Land. Through the many layers of meaning, the paper aims to demonstrate how Yolngu philosophy recognises bees as being an integral part of an interconnected and complex ecology.

In the musical traditions of the Yolngu of northeast Arnhem Land, in northern Australia, the evocation of ancestrally-significant places is of primary ideological and aesthetic importance. This is primarily done through song texts, when a singer “paints a picture” of a place in the mind's eye of the audience; when done with great skill, such evocation can produce strong feelings of nostalgia as listeners recall those places and the personal and ancestral events which took place there. Musical instruments can also be used in this way, either through tropes in the song texts, which make reference to the instrument and its ancestral significance, or through the actual sound of the instrument as an enacted trope during the musical performance itself. In either case, the mention or use of musical instruments can resonate powerfully with ideas about ancestors, people and places, making musical instruments important symbols in Yolngu culture.

ABSTRACTMost statements about the treatment and fortunes of elderly Australian Aborigines have emphasised their wisdom and sanctity and the respect and affection due to elderly relatives. Ethnographic research among the Yolngu (Murngin) of Arnhem Land suggests that the actual situation of an old person depends on an interplay of structural, situational and individual factors, including personal qualities, family support, seniority, sex, ecology and land use patterns and the effects of white colonisation and social change. Cases are presented and discussed to illustrate the variable fortunes of old Aborigines and their determinants.

Despite commitment by the Australian Government to improve the economic independence of Indigenous people Aboriginals and Torres Strait Islanders they are the most socio economic disadvantaged group relative to other Australians. This commitment manifests in the four main strands of; 1) welfare, 2) installation of the Community Development Employment Projects (CDEP) scheme, 3) legislation enabling Traditional Land Owners and miners to negotiate agreements for training and employment of Indigenous people, and 4) programmes to encourage Indigenous entrepreneurship. This paper reports an Australian Indigenous entrepreneurial business (furniture making) initiated by the Gumatj clan of the Yolngu people in East Arnhem Land in the Northern Territory (NT) of Australia. These Indigenous people are employed in timber milling and transporting the milled timber to Gunyangara on the Gove Peninsula where it is dried and used to make furniture. Overcoming the literature documented barriers to Australian Indigenous entrepreneurship compelled the Gumatj to develop a business model with potential to foster pathways for other Indigenous small business endeavours.

Aboriginal people are increasingly making use of digitising technologies for their cultural and educational work. However, databases are not innocent objects. They bear within them Western assumptions about the nature of knowledge, and how it is produced, which may inhibit or undermine the intergenerational transmission of Aboriginal knowledge traditions. Words (or text strings), for example, have a particular constitutive function in Aboriginal epistemology, which implies a rethinking of traditional structures and uses of metadata. Knowledge and truth are understood more in terms of performance than content, which implies something about how digital resources are to be configured and represented. This paper looks at collaborative work done developing a database to support the ongoing work done by Yolngu (northeast Arnhem Land Aboriginal) people in keeping their knowledge traditions strong.

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.

The maintenance, or in some cases revival, of Aboriginal languages has become an important issue to Aboriginal people, and should be an important issue in Aboriginal schools if local people show concern about it. There is good reason for this concern. Predictions vary among linguists about how vulnerable Aboriginal languages are. There are about fifty Aboriginal languages spoken today. One informed estimate is that by the year 2000 a dozen of these will still be naturally reproducing themselves, that is, still spoken spontaneously by young children. Another informed estimate is that by that time only about three languages will be vigorous and spoken by children. These three are the related Yolngu languages in North East Arnhem Land, the related Western Desert languages of which Pitjantjatjara is the best known, and Kriol which is a new Aboriginal language and the largest, and growing rapidly.Our assumption that there is a best way to go about language maintenance is not supported by a well established theory that can be applied in all contexts. Even though a good deal is known about language shift there is not agreement among linguists about what causes it in different situations. For example, it is assumed that isolation would help Aboriginal languages to stay strong, and that closeness to a large town would cause an Aboriginal language to weaken under pressure from English. But linguists have pointed out that some really isolated Aboriginal communities seem to be losing their language and that the language of some groups living near towns is staying stronger. It has also been assumed that if a community has one dominant Aboriginal language then it will remain stronger than those languages in a community where there are a number of different languages in use. Again linguists have observed that that is not always the case.

AbstractIn Australia, applicants for native title—legal recognition of proprietary interest in land devolving from traditions predating colonization—must meet a stringent standard of continuity of social identity since before the advent of Crown sovereignty. As courts and the legislature have gravitated toward an increasingly strict application of the continuity doctrine, anthropologists involved in land claims cases have found themselves rehearsing an old debate in Australian anthropology over the degree to which post-contact patterns of subsistence, movement, and ritual enactment can support inferences about life in precontact Australia. In the 1960s, at the dawn of the land claims era, a handful of anthropologists shifted the debate to an ecological plane. Characterizing Australia on the cusp of colonization as a late Holocene climax human ecosystem, they argued that certain recently observed patterns in the distribution of marks of social cohesion (mutual intelligibility of language, systems of classificatory kinship) could not represent the outcome of such a climax ecosystem and must indicate disintegration of Aboriginal social structures since contact. Foremost among them was Joseph Birdsell, for whom linguistic boundaries, under climax conditions, would self-evidently be congruent with boundaries in breeding pools. Birdsell's intervention came just as the Northern Territory Supreme Court was hearing evidence on the value of dialect as a marker of membership in corporate landholding groups in Yolngu country, and offers an object lesson in how language, race, mode of subsistence, and law come together in efforts to answer the questions “Who was here first?” and “Are those people still here?”

Indigenous families have culturally-specific strengths, priorities, and methods for assessing their children’s development. Recognition and support of children’s and families’ strengths are important for identity, health and wellbeing. However, strengths can be missed in assessment processes developed in non-Indigenous contexts. Yolŋu are First Nations Australian peoples from North-East Arnhem Land. This study was conducted to explore Yolŋu early childhood development, assessment and support in response to concerns that Yolŋu strengths and priorities are often not recognised. The cultural and linguistic expertise of Yolŋu researchers was central in this qualitative study. Rich empirical data were collected through a form of video reflexive ethnography with six children and their extended families over seven years and through in-depth interviews with 38 other community members. An iterative process of data collection and analysis engaged Yolŋu families and researchers in a collaborative, culturally responsive research process which drew on constructivist grounded theory methods. Findings illustrate how Yolŋu children are immersed in complex layers of intertwined and continuous testing and teaching processes integrating holistic frameworks of cultural identity and connection, knowledge and practices. Yolŋu families monitor and recognise a child’s development through both direct and explicit testing and through observing children closely so that children can be supported to keep learning and growing into their knowledge, strengths and identity. Yolŋu expressed concern that such learning is invisible when the child is viewed through non-Yolŋu lenses and assessed with processes and tools from outside the community. Indigenous peoples have a right to culturally congruent assessment of their children. Those who share the child’s culture and language have the expertise to ensure that cultural strengths and priorities are recognised and understood.

AbstractThis is my account of collaborating with Joseph Neparrŋa Gumbula and, in tribute to him and his teaching and scholarship, a discussion of the methodological considerations for teaching and research-based teaching of Yolŋu culture. By privileging the agency and ontology of exegetes such as Gumbula and working in partnership, Yolŋu knowledge has become a part of the modern academic canon as well as a literary legacy for Yolŋu people. The invariable context of the scholarly encounter with Indigenous knowledge is an intercultural one attended by significant historical problems from experiences of the colonial and postcolonial capture of most indigenous societies in modern nation states. Indigenous exegetes hold knowledge systems that exist in situ, in places held in long traditions of customary land tenure and jural principles that predate colonial and postcolonial systems, and inherited in each generation by a few honoured and remarkable people who take up the arduous responsibility of learning and transmitting knowledge practices and their spoken, sung and performed vehicles of expression.

This qualitative study examined smokefree leadership among the Yolŋu people, Indigenous landowners of East Arnhem Land. Despite disproportionately high smoking prevalence, the study found that most people enacted smokefree leadership within families and communities. While there was broad concern about not impinging on the autonomy of others, Indigenous health workers regularly advised clients, family and community members to quit smoking. This followed a general belief that the issue of smoking was best raised by health workers, rather than traditional leaders. Protecting children from second-hand smoke and preventing smoking initiation was important to all participants irrespective of their smoking status. An enduring and highly valued cultural connection to ŋarali’ (tobacco) remains an essential part of the sacred practices of the funeral ceremony, an important and unique social utility. The study found consensus among participants that this would not change. Navigating traditional connections to ŋarali’ in a context where most people are still addicted to commercial tobacco is challenging and requires respectful and culturally compelling approaches. Tobacco control initiatives with the Yolŋu should therefore utilise existing smokefree leaders within the social context in which ŋarali’ is valued and used, an approach that may resonate with other Indigenous Australian nations and communities.

Research remains a site of struggle for First Nations peoples globally. Biomedical research often reinforces existing power structures, perpetuating ongoing colonisation by dominating research priorities, resource allocation, policies, and services. Addressing systemic health inequities requires decolonising methodologies to facilitate new understandings and approaches. These methodologies promote a creative tension and productive intercultural dialogue between First Nations and Western epistemologies. Concurrently, the potential of critical theory, social science, and community participatory action research approaches to effectively prioritise First Nations peoples’ lived experience within the biomedical worldview is increasingly recognised. This article describes learnings regarding research methods that enable a better understanding of the lived experience of rheumatic heart disease—an intractable, potent marker of health inequity for First Nations Australians, requiring long-term engagement in the troubled intersection between Indigenist and biomedical worldviews. Working with Yolŋu (Aboriginal) co-researchers from remote Northern Territory (Australia), the concept of ganma (turbulent co-mingling of salt and fresh water) was foundational for understanding and applying relationality (gurrutu), deep listening (nhina, nhäma ga ŋäma), and the use of metaphors—approaches that strengthen productive dialogue, described by Yolŋu co-researchers as weaving a ‘mat we can all sit on’. The research results are reported in a subsequent article.

AbstractArchives are full of emotional connections between records and researchers that can span surprise, delight, anger, indifference and engagement. In this short reflection, I share my stories of the archival and personal photographs that connected me and Joe Gumbula. It was not always easy for Joe to be a conduit between two cultures, to bring people and collections together over time and space, and to balance his fluency in Yolŋu knowledge against the archive’s unfamiliar institutional processes. Through our collaborations, I learned key lessons for professional archivists about building trust, connections, follow-through, presence and listening that support the active management of historical images.

AbstractThis article explores the role of legacy recordings of song for a family of Arrarrkpi (Mawng-speaking people), who are contemporary singers and dancers of manyardi, a public ceremonial performance of western Arnhem Land, in their collaborative work with a team of Balanda (Euro-diasporic) researchers. Drawing inspiration from the dialogical approach of the Yolŋu ceremonial leader and scholar Joe Gumbula, the article reflects on various dialogues that inform the research, practice and archival recording of manyardi. We demonstrate how legacy recordings reinvigorate contemporary performance practice in collective settings, rather than serving as canonical or ideal versions of song sets to be replicated by an individual singer. We suggest that maintaining the linking and organisation of enriched song metadata from this community to the archival collection will enable future song inheritors to maintain dialogues with archives that hold recordings of manyardi.

Involvement of Indigenous people and knowledge in conservation science has become a clear directive in international covenants. Currently, approximately one-third of Australia is owned and managed by Indigenous people, including 84% of the Northern Territory coastline, making Indigenous-led and cross-cultural research highly relevant. Recently, the Yolŋu Senior Knowledge Custodians of the Laynhapuy Indigenous Protected Area in northern Australia expressed concern about the dieback of culturally significant coastal Melaleuca (paperbark) stands. A partnership between Senior Knowledge Custodians and Western scientists was used to develop an ecocultural research framework to investigate the dieback. Semistructured interviews about the likely causes were conducted with Senior Knowledge Custodians of five coastal flood plain sites where dieback occurred. At these sites, comparative ecological assessments of paired dieback and healthy Melaleuca stands were conducted to explore relationships between Melaleuca stand health, salt water intrusion, acid sulfate soils and feral ungulate damage. Melaleuca dieback was observed in three species: nämbarra (M. viridiflora), raŋan (M. cajuputi) and gulun’kulun (M. acacioides). The sociocultural and ecological research approaches similarly suggested that ~70% of Melaleuca spp. dieback was attributed to combinations of salinity and feral ungulate damage. An ecocultural approach heightened understanding of Melaleuca dieback because we detected similarities and differences in likely causal factors.

AbstractThe title of this article was inspired by a filmed interview that I conducted with Joe Gumbula in France in July 2007 during one of his ARC-funded research trips in response to a sceptical European curator who wanted to know why the Yolŋu wanted to have their materials back. Was it because they had lost their culture? Drawing on Joe’s eloquent response, I outline his pioneering perspective on museum collaborations and the digital repatriation of knowledge. Rather than transfixing things on computers, repatriation processes should be seen as modern pathways that link Indigenous peoples to their past, as well as present and future visions, enabling renewed performances of culture. This article has been adapted from my closing plenary address in tribute to Joe Gumbula at the 2017 Information Technologies and Indigenous Communities Symposium in Melbourne.

In this paper, we explore possibilities for reconceptualizing cosmopolitics by focusing on sites and situations where the problem of un/commonality plays a central role. Stemming from ethnographic research carried out as part of an ongoing collaboration on ‘Landscapes of Democracy’, we outline a study of democratic politics that extends beyond the politics of a single world and attends to landscapes of political practice that embed, and sometimes deny multiplicity. We follow the chronological unfolding of our fieldwork in Germany and Australia, and trace politics across worlds by telling alternating stories about how commonality and uncommonality are achieved in specific parliamentary settings in Frankfurt, Berlin, Darwin and Miliŋimbi – a Yolŋu community in the Northern Territory. We interrogate the relationship between commonality and uncommonality, not as an opposition, but as a series of situated efforts to find out and articulate what needs to be made un/common, for what purposes, and on what terms. Bringing into focus such explicit and implicit framings of cosmopolitics suggests that there is potential for partial and situated practices on the ground to rework un/common futures through the continual reimagining of pasts and the configurations of people and places to which these futures are tied.

The aim of the study is to study the territory of Mountainous Shirvan, selected as an object of study, date, conditions, sources, susceptibility to change, and other microtoonyms in natural and economic regions as a result of labor and productive activities of people. Research method. Some microtoponyms on the territory of Mountainous Shirvan of the Republic of Azerbaijan have been studied by geographical, historical methods and the method of linguistic analysis. Results. The article reveals the names of the tribe involved in the creation of a number of microtoponyms. For example, Borbor tepesi, Khalaj gerebi, Dallek shishi, Kolany zirvesi, Karaoglanli yaly, etc. On the territory of Mountainous Shirvan of the Azerbaijan Republic there are enough toponyms and microtoponyms bearing the names of different tribes. This is due to the development of these territories by some tribes. It was also conditioned by the natural and geographical conditions and vertical zoning (summer and winter pastures, etc.) of the territory. The article studies the traces of some tribes in the participation of the formation of some microtoponyms and distribution areas, conditions and reasons for their formation and others. for example, Aksakli shishi, Aksakli yolu, Aksakli suvati, Aksakli guneyi, Turan gylyndzhy, Turan tepesi, Yurt Hydyrly, Yurt Khalaj, Yurt Boyat, Karaman dagy, etc. Each microtoponym is of great importance noted in the study. Research shows that there are such microtoponyms that reflect the name of the tribe. Among them there are such as Dallek Shishi, Arab Gerebi, Khalaj Gerebi, Khalaj Yurt, Karaman Dagy, etc. We know that some Arab tribes settled in Shirvan during the Arab occupation. Of these, Arabbaloglan, Arabgardashbeyli, Arabkadim, Arabshamly, Hila and others. The population of Arabgardashbeyli moved from Mountainous Shirvan. Scientific novelty. On the basis of microtoponyms not included in any written literature and preserved in the stone memory of the peoples of the territory, the conditions for the formation of past names are revealed, the geographical position of the territories, the direction of the economy and the name of the tribe.

From every State and Territory of Australia, including the islands of the Torres Strait over 200 delegates gathered at the 2017 First Nations National Constitutional Convention in Uluru, which has stood on Anangu Pitjantjatjara country in the Northern Territory since time immemorial, to discuss the issue of constitutional recognition. Delegates agreed that tokenistic recognition would not be enough, and that recognition bearing legal substance must stand, with the possibility to make multiple treaties between Aboriginal peoples and Torres Strait Islanders and the Commonwealth Government of Australia. In this paper, we look at the roadmap beyond such a potential change. We make the case for a redistributive approach to capital, and propose key outcomes for social reconstruction, should a voice to parliament, a Makarrata[1] Commission and multiple treaties be enabled through a successful referendum. We conclude that an alteration of the Commonwealth Constitution (Cth) is the preliminary overture of a suite of changes: the constitutional change itself is not the end of the road, but simply the beginning of years of legal change, which seeks provide a socio-economic future for Australia’s First Peoples, and the oldest continuing cultures in the world. Constitutional change seeks to transform the discourse about Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander relations with the Australian state from one centred on distributive justice to one that is primarily informed by retributive justice. This paper concerns the future generations of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children, and their right to labour in a market that honours their cultural contributions to humanity at large. [1] Yolŋu ceremony for coming together after a struggle.

The article deals with the traditions and ethnodeformations associated with the funeral, which are found in prose works of Kazakh literature. We often use the phrase "torkaly toi” (solemn celebration), “topirakti olim” (a sorrowful death, when all burial ceremonies are performed by beautifying the dead and all close people of the deceased mourn for his/her passing)" in the sense of joy and sadness. We know that each nation has its own traditions, superstitions, rituals and customs. Although any of these rituals and customs are common to the Turkic peoples, it can be noted that each nation has its own distinctive features. Over the years, both new and old traditions have been deformed and changed due to time. The initial forms of traditions and the ways they have been ethnodeformed can be seen from scientific research, from the conditions of performing rituals and traditions in fiction. To such funeral customs as farewell to the deceased, the ablution of the deceased, the preservation and protection of the corpse, the participation in the washing of the corpse, the praying for the deceased, the burial, there’re also such rituals as conveying the tragic news of the deceased to his close relatives, mourning for the deceased, expressing condolences to the family of the deceased, as well as giving memorial dinners after seven, forty, one hundred days and a year in the memory of the dead person. The article provides a definitive analysis of the significance and national cognitive features of such rituals. In particular, the relevance of the article is determined by making systematic comparisons through Mukhtar Auezov’s novel-epopee "Abai's way", which describes the national existence of the Kazakh people and national traditions in connection with the events. Keywords: deformation, ethnodeformation, definition, funeral, kazakh traditions and customs Roza Jumabay qızı Yesbalayeva Müasir qazax nəsrində milli idrakın etnodeformasiyası Xülasə Məqalədə qazax ədəbiyyatının nəsr əsərlərində rast gəlinən dəfn mərasimi ilə bağlı adət-ənənələrdən və etnodeformasiyalardan bəhs edilir. “Torkalı toi” (təntənəli bayram), “topiraktı olim” (mərhumun gözəlləşdirilməsi ilə bütün dəfn mərasimlərinin yerinə yetirildiyi və mərhumun bütün yaxınlarının onun vəfatı ilə bağlı yas tutduğu hüznlü ölüm) ifadələrini çox vaxt sevinc və kədər mənasında işlədirik. Məlumdur ki, hər bir xalqın özünəməxsus adət-ənənələri, ritualları var. Bu ayin və adətlərdən hər hansı biri türk xalqları üçün ümumi olsa da, onlarda hər bir xalqın özünəməxsus xüsusiyyətlərinin olduğunu qeyd etmək olar. İllər keçdikcə həm yeni, həm də köhnə adət-ənənələr zamana uyğun olaraq deformasiyaya uğramış və dəyişdirilmişdir. Ənənələrin ilkin formalarını və onların etnodeformasiyaya uğrama yollarını elmi araşdırmalardan, bədii ədəbiyyatda ayin və ənənələrin yerinə yetirilməsi şəraitindən görmək olar. Mərhumla vidalaşma, mərhumun dəstəmazı, meyitin mühafizəsi, meyitin yuyulmasında iştirak, mərhumun duasının oxunması, dəfn edilməsi kimi dəfn adətləri, həmçinin yaxın qohumlara acı xəbərin çatdırılması, mərhumun xatirəsinə matəm elan edilməsi, ailəsinə başsağlığı verilməsi, habelə xatirəsinə yeddi, qırx, yüz gün və bir ildən sonra xatirə süfrələrinin verilməsi kimi ayinlər də mövcuddur. Məqalədə bu cür ritualların əhəmiyyəti və milli idrak xüsusiyyətlərinin təhlili verilmişdir. Xüsusilə, qazax xalqının milli varlığını, milli adət-ənənələrini hadisələrlə bağlı təsvir edən Muxtar Auezovun “Abay yolu” roman-epopeyası vasitəsilə sistemli müqayisələr aparılmaqla məqalənin aktuallığı müəyyən edilir. Açar sözlər: deformasiya, etnodeformasiya, tərif, dəfn, qazax adət-ənənələri

Ötən əsrin əvvəllərindən başlayaraq geniş şəkildə inkişaf edən Azərbaycan uşaq nəsri olduqca maraqlı və zəngin inkişaf yolu keçmişdir. Xalqın tarixi və mənəvi dəyərlərini uşaqlara sevdirmək kimi nəcib məqsədlər axtarışında olan uşaq nəsrinin təşəkkülü maarifçilik ideyalarının yayılması və təbliği, həmçinin yeni dərsliklərin, müntəxəbatların tərtibi, yeni tipli məktəblərin açılması uşaq mətbuatı yaratmaq ideyasının gerçəkləşməsi ilə bilavasitə əlaqədar olmuşdur. Məqalədə ötən əsrin 70-80-ci illərində məhsuldar yaradıcılığı ilə səciyyələnən Tofiq Mahmudun uşaqlar üçün yazdığı nəsr əsərlərinin ideya-məzmun xüsusiyyətləri təhlil edilir, onların uşaqlara aşıladığı didaktik-tərbiyəvi əhəmiyyət tədqiqata cəlb edilir. Açar sözlər: Tofiq Mahmud, uşaq ədəbiyyatı, nəsr, maarifçilik, əxlaqi-didaktik Gulnar Ramiz Gambarova Analysis of Tofiq Mahmud's prose works in the context of children's literature Abstract Azerbaijani children's prose, which has been widely developing since the beginning of the last century, has gone through a very interesting and rich development path. The formation of children's prose, which aims to make children love the history and moral values of the people, was directly related to the spread and propagation of the ideas of enlightenment, as well as the compilation of new textbooks and textbooks, the opening of new types of schools, and the realization of the idea of creating a children's press. The article analyzes the idea-content features of the prose works written for children by Tofig Mahmud, who was characterized by his prolific creativity in the 70s and 80s of the last century, and the didactic-educational importance they instilled in children is involved in the research. Keywords: Tofig Mahmud, children's literature, prose, enlightenment, moral and didactic

Əhali artdıqca təbii ehtiyatlara tələbat da artır. Bununla belə, təbii sərvətlər tükənməz deyil və yaxın gələcəkdə onların bəzilərinin tamamilə tükənməsi ehtimalı var. İnsanlar təbii sərvətlərin ömrü boyu tükənə biləcəyini dərk etmir və yalnız tükəndikdən sonra böyük problemlərlə üzləşirlər. Dünya əhalisinin daim artan tələbatı təbii ehtiyatların tükənməsi, iqtisadi böhranlar, ekoloji gərginlik, siyasi və sosial problemlər ilə nəticələnə bilər. Bunun qarşısını almaq üçün hər bir ölkə öz inkişaf strategiyasını müəyyən etməli və gələcək nəsillər üçün ehtiyatların qorunması yollarını araşdırmalıdır. Mütəxəssislər mövcud vəziyyətdən çıxış yolunu davamlı inkişafın təmin edilməsində görürlər. Davamlı inkişaf modeli balanslaşdırılmış, davamlı və dinamik inkişaf modelidir. Bu model gələcək nəsillərin ehtiyaclarının tam ödənilməsinə təhlükə yaratmayan inkişaf hesab olunur. Buraya iki əsas anlayış daxildir: ehtiyaclar anlayışı, xüsusən də birinci dərəcəli prioritetlərin predmeti olan yoxsul əhalinin mövcudluğu üçün zəruri olan ehtiyaclar və cəmiyyətin təşkili və texnologiyaların vəziyyəti ilə şərtlənən, ətraf mühitin cari və gələcək ehtiyacları ödəmək qabiliyyətinə qoyulan məhdudiyyətlər anlayışı. Açar sözlər: davamlı inkişaf konsepsiyası,davamlı inkişaf modeli, sosial inkişaf, iqtisadi inkişaf, ekoloji inkişaf, davamlı insan inkişafı Aynur Hikmat Alakbarli Sustainable development strategy. Sustainable development in Azerbaijan Abstract As the population increases, so does the demand for natural resources. However, natural resources are not inexhaustible, and in the near future some of them are likely to run out completely. people do not realize that natural resources can be exhausted during their lifetime, and only after they are exhausted, they face big problems. The ever-increasing demand of the world's population can result in the depletion of natural resources, economic crises, environmental tensions, and political and social problems. In order to prevent this from happening, each country should determine its own development strategy and explore ways to preserve resources for future generations. Experts see the way out of the current situation in ensuring sustainable development. The sustainable development model is a balanced, sustainable and dynamic development model. This model is considered a development that does not jeopardize the full satisfaction of the needs of future generations. It includes two main concepts: the concept of needs, especially the needs necessary for the existence of the poor population, which should be the subject of first-order priorities and the concept of limits placed on the ability of the environment to meet current and future needs, conditioned by the organization of society and the state of technologies. Keywords: sustainable development concept, sustainable development model, social development, economic development, ecological development, sustainable human development

Dünyadaki çoxsaylı münaqişələrin və müharibələrin gedişinə nəzər salsaq görərik ki, son nöqtəni güclü tərəf qoyur. Azərbaycan xalqının Qarabağ uğrunda 44 günlük Vətən müharibəsi buna ən yeni nümunədir. Ötən 17 ildə Azərbacan güc topladı və 30 il davam edən işğala 44 gündə son qoydu. BMT-nin Təhlükəsizlik Şurasının və beynəlxalq ictimaiyyətin çoxsaylı qətnamələrinə baxmayaraq, Azərbaycan ərazilərini işğal edən Ermənistan məsələnin sülh yolu ilə həll edilməsi üçün heç bir addəm atmamış, bu çərçivədə yaradılmış Minsk Qrupu problemi həll edə bilməmişdir. Bu yazı yuxarıda qeyd olunan münaqişəni təhlil etmək məqsədi daşıyır. Bu kontekstdə birinci hissədə müharibənin gedişi ortaya qoyulur, tərəflər və onların təsirləri açıqlanır. Daha sonra münaqişə ilə bağlı hadisələrə yer verilir, razılaşmadan sonrakı yekun vəziyyət araşdırılır. Açar sözlər: II Qarabağ müharibəsi, münaqişə, hüquq, humanitar hüquq, pozuntular. Nurlan Abdul Ashurov Humanitarian law in the context of the 2nd Karabakh war Abstract If we look at the many conflicts and wars in the world, we will see that the end point is set by a strong side. The 44-day Patriotic War of the Azerbaijani people for Karabakh is the last example of this. Over the past 17 years, Azerbaijan has gained strength and ended its 30-year occupation in 44 days. Despite numerous resolutions of the UN Security Council and the international community, Armenia, which has occupied Azerbaijani territories, has not taken any steps to resolve the issue peacefully, and the Minsk Group has not been able to resolve the issue. It is aimed in this paper to analyze the above-mentioned conflict. In this context, the first part describes the course of the war, the parties and their effects. Then the events related to the conflict are covered, and the final situation after the agreement is investigated. Key words: II Karabakh war, conflict, law, humanitarian law, responsibility, violations

COVID-19, which became a current issue as a result of the pneumonia cases with unknown etiology in Wuhan City, Hubei Province of China on December 31, 2019, has started to spread throughout the world and deaths related to it have increased rapidly. Isolation, which is an important step in the control of this disease, has many physiological and psychological effects. Initiating a sudden quarantine situation means a radical change in the lifestyle of the population. Changing lifestyles and behaviours may result in insufficient levels of physical activity and inadequate movement, which increases the risk of developing conditions such as diabetes, hypertension, cardiovascular diseases and respiratory diseases. During quarantine, it is essential to stay active and maintain a physical exercise routine for mental and physical health. It is very important people should continue their active lives at home so that their lifestyles do not change and their health conditions do not deteriorate. The aim of the study is to determine the exercises that can be done during the COVID-19 outbreak and the points to be considered during the exercises. ​Extended English summary is in the end of Full Text PDF (TURKISH) file. Özet Çin’in Hubei Eyaleti, Vuhan Şehrinde, 31 Aralık 2019’da etiyolojisi bilinmeyenpnömoni vakaları ile gündeme gelen COVID-19 dünyaya yayılmaya başlamış ve buna bağlı ölümler hızla artmıştır. Bu hastalığın kontrolünde önemli basamak olan izolasyonun fizyolojik ve psikolojik birçok etkisi vardır. Ani bir karantina durumunun başlatılması, nüfusun yaşam tarzında radikal bir değişiklik anlamına gelmektedir. Değişen yaşam biçimleri ve davranışları, yetersiz fiziksel aktivite seviyesi ve yetersiz hareket ile sonuçlanabilir ve bu durum diyabet, hipertansiyon, kardiyovasküler hastalıklar, solunum yolu hastalıkları gibi durumların oluşma riskini artırır. Karantina sırasında, zihinsel ve fiziksel sağlık için aktif kalmak ve fiziksel bir egzersiz rutini korumak esastır. İnsanların yaşam tarzlarının değişmemesi ve sağlıklarının bozulmaması için evde aktif yaşama devam etmeleri çok önemlidir. Yapılan çalışmanın amacı, COVID-19 salgını esnasında yapılabilecek egzersizler ve egzersiz esnasında dikkat edilmesi gereken hususların belirtilmesidir.

Şiddet olgusu, günlük yaşamda sürekli devam eden ve şekilleri esnek olan bir baskı odağıdır. Çocuklar ve bazı insanlar ilişkilerinde mesajlarını bu yolla vermeye, dikkat çekmeye ve yaptırım uygulamaya çalışırlar. Şiddetin insanlık suçu ve insan hakları ihlali bir davranış ve yöntem olarak görülmesine rağmen her dönem varlığını artarak devam ettirmesi ve uygulayıcıların çocuk yaşlara kadar inmesi, üzerinde çalışmayı ve önlem almayı zorunlu kılmaktadır. Toplumda şiddetin azaltılmasının en önemli yolu, çocukları sağlıklı ve şiddet ortamından mümkün olduğunca uzak yetiştirmektir. Bu çalışma; gençlerin şiddet eğilimleri, şiddeti öğrenme yolları ve iletişimde bulunduğu kişiye görünür zarar vermeyi hedefleyen fiziksel şiddeti, uygulayan ve uygulanan bireyler üzerindeki etkilerini konu edinmektedir. Amaç; çocukların gelişim süreçlerinde davranış pekişmesi aşamasında sorunlarını çözmek ve isteklerini yerine getirmek için başvurdukları fiziksel/sözel şiddeti nerelerden ve nasıl öğrendikleri, bu davranışı sergilemek için kendilerini hangi gerekçelerle ikna ettikleri ve bu davranışı önleme yollarını tartışmaktır. Araştırmada, HEGEM (Şiddetle Mücadele Vakfı) vakfının Malatya merkez ilçede 2017-2018 eğitim - öğretim yılında liselerde ikinci sınıfta öğrenim gören 3.533 öğrenciye, alan araştırması kapsamında 71 sorudan oluşan ölçme aracı uygulamıştır. Bu çalışmada adı geçen ölçme aracında yer alan 27-45 arası okul(içi ve çevresi), aile ve arkadaş çevresi kaynaklı şiddet soruları kullanılmıştır. Veriler SPSS 16.0 paket programı aracılığı ile çözümlenmiş ve yorumlanmıştır. Elde edilen bulgular, Türkiye’de fiziksel/sözel şiddetin çocuk yaşta öncelikle aileden öğrenildiğini, arkadaş ve okul çevresi ile pekiştiğini, fiziksel/sözel şiddet görmenin şiddet ve suçlu davranışları uygulamayı körüklediğini ve fiziksel şiddetin her kesimde görülebileceğini göstermektedir. ABSTRACTThe phenomenon of violence is a pressure focus that is constantly continuing in daily life and whose shapes are flexible. Children and some people try to communicate, draw attention and impose sanctions in this way. Despite the fact that violence against humanity and human rights violations are seen as a behavior and method, the necessity of increasing the existence of each period and the decline of the practitioners even at children level necessitates working and taking measures. The most important way to reduce violence in the society is to educate children as healthy and as far away from violence as possible. This study focuses on the effects of violence on young people, their ways of learning violence, and the physical violence that aims to cause visible harm to the person with whom they are interacting. The aim is to discuss where and how children learn the physical / verbal violence they apply to solve their problems in the development process and to discuss the ways in which they persuade themselves on the grounds of this behavior and ways of preventing this behavior. In this study, HEGEM (Anti-Violence Foundation) conducted a survey in the central district of Malatya in the 2017-2018 academic year in the second year of secondary school education with 3,533 students. In this study, 27-45 school (inside and around), family and friendship violence questions were used. The data were analyzed and interpreted by SPSS 16.0 package program. The findings are that in Turkey, physical / verbal violence in childhood is first learned from family and friends; it is reinforced by the school environment where physical / verbal violence and criminal behavior is common; witnessing violence fuels similar behaviours; and acts of physical violence can be seen in all segments of the society. Keywords: Violence, Violent Behavior, High School Students, Youth and Violence

<p><strong>Abstract</strong></p><p>The examination of daily life presents us the most objective information from point of sociology. Therefore, a general outlook on social relationship in life from religious point of view can contribute us to understand Islam accurately. Objectivity is basic principle in scientific method. In order to obtain theoretical generalizations, we should act from one by one objective event or fact. It can be claimed that obtaining any theory through generalizing is a safer way. There are some approaches that advice us to follow the same way to create sociological theories. They are called as “small scale approaches.” Rather than analyzing sociological theories, this article examines the possibility of adaptation of sociological approaches, regarding evaluation of daily life, to religious aspects. Eventually, it was concluded that it is possible to compare our daily life activities with those of Prophet Muhammad’s time. Shortly, the sociological examination of daily life from point of religion indicates that the main reason of collapse of the world of Turk-Islam even the whole humanity is the lack of faith-practice or essence-function in terms of educating people. The examination of daily life from point of religion can contribute to this matter of obtaining more sound mentality.</p><p><strong>Öz</strong></p><p>Gündelik hayatın tahlili bize sosyolojik açıdan birçok nesnel veri sunmaktadır. Bu sebeple, gündelik hayattaki sosyal ilişkilere dini perspektiften yaklaşmak, İslam’ın da daha doğru anlaşılması noktasında katkı sağlayabilir. Bilimsel yöntemde nesnellik esastır. Yani kuramsal genellemelere varmak için tek tek nesnel olay ve olgulardan hareket etmek gerekmektedir. Tek tek nesnel verilerin benzer sonuçlarını genelleştirerek kuramlara varmak daha isabetli bir yol olmaktadır. Sosyolojik kuramları da oluştururken benzer yolu izlemeyi tavsiye eden yaklaşımlar vardır. Bunlara küçük ölçekli yaklaşımlar adı verilmektedir. Bu yaklaşımlar gündelik hayattaki insanlar arası etkileşimden hareketle sosyolojik kuram oluşturmanın daha bilimsel bir tutum olacağını iddia etmektedirler. Makalede sosyolojik kuramların değerlendirilmesi üzerinde değil; gündelik hayatın sosyolojik tahlilinde başvurulan kategorik yöntemin dini hayata uyarlanmasının imkânı üzerinde durulmaya gayret edilmiştir. Neticede, günümüzdeki gündelik etkileşimlerimizin, Hz. Peygamber dönemindeki gündelik etkileşimlerle kıyaslanmasının mümkün olduğu kanaatine varılmıştır. Bu bağlamda makalemiz, sözel ve sözel olmayan iletişim kanalları üzerinden günlük hayattaki iletişimleri Hz. Peygamberin hadisleri doğrultusunda incelemektedir. Kısaca, gündelik hayatın dini açıdan sosyolojik tahlili bize, Türk-İslam dünyasının ve hatta tüm insanlığın çöküşünün esas nedeninin iman-amel veya öz-işlev arasındaki ilişkinin tamamlamacı niteliğinin bireylere benimsetilememesi olduğunu göstermektedir. Gündelik hayatın dini açıdan tahlili bu konuda daha sağlam bir zihniyete kavuşma zemininin oluşumunda önemli katkılar sunabilir.</p>

Abstract Aim: In the crowded field of leadership research, Indigenous leadership remains under-researched. This article explores the Leadership Model of an Aboriginal Community Controlled Primary Health Care Organisation providing services to the Yolngu people of remote northern Australia: the Miwatj Health Aboriginal Corporation (Miwatj). Background: The limited research which does exist on Indigenous leadership points to unique challenges for Indigenous leaders. These challenges relate to fostering self-determination in their communities, managing significant community expectations, and navigating a path between culturally divergent approaches to management and leadership. Methods: Guided by Indigenous methodology and using a mixed methods approach, semi-structured interviews, self-reported health service data, organisational and publicly available documents, and literature were analysed using a framework method of thematic analysis to identify key themes of the Miwatj Leadership Model. Findings: The Miwatj Leadership Model is underpinned by three distinctive elements: it offers Yolngu people employment opportunities; it supports staff who want to move into leadership positions and provides capacity building through certificates and diplomas; and it provides for the physical, emotional, and cultural wellbeing of all Yolngu staff. Furthermore, the model respects traditional Yolngu forms of authority and empowers the community to develop, manage and sustain their own health. The Miwatj Leadership Model has been successful in providing formal pathways to support Indigenous staff to take on leadership roles, and has improved the accessibility and acceptability of health care services as a result of Yolngu employment and improved cultural safety. Conclusions: Translating the Miwatj Leadership Model into other health services will require considerable thought and commitment. The Miwatj Leadership Model can be adapted to meet the needs of other health care services in consideration of the unique context within which they operate. This study has demonstrated the importance of having a formal leadership model that promotes recruitment, retention, and career progression for Indigenous staff.

This paper explores how Australian Indigenous people express their mutual life‑giving bonds with other‑than‑humans such as animals, plants, natural features, and land in terms of kinship relationships. I will describe an ‘ontology of connectivity’ and a ‘mutuality of being’ among living beings in terms of reciprocal responsibility, interdependence, cooperation and care. In reference to my ethnographic research in Northeast Arnhem Land, I insist on the priority of relating, and on the affective nature of multispecies relationships, and illustrate how these are celebrated, maintained and reactivated through ceremonial songs, as well as new forms of music.

Introduction In 2017, 250 Indigenous delegates from across the country convened at the National Constitution Convention at Uluru to discuss a strategy towards the implementation of constitutional reform and recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples (Referendum Council). Informed by community consultations arising out of 12 regional dialogues conducted by the government appointed Referendum Council, the resulting Uluru Statement from the Heart was unlike any constitutional reform previously proposed (Appleby & Synot). Within the Statement, the delegation outlined that to build a more equitable and reconciled nation, an enshrined Voice to Parliament was needed. Such a voice would embed Indigenous participation in parliamentary dialogues and debates while facilitating further discussion pertaining to truth telling and negotiating a Treaty between Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples. The reforms proposed are based on the collective input of Indigenous communities that were expressed in good faith during the consultation process. Arising out of a government appointed and funded initiative that directly sought Indigenous perspectives on constitutional reform, the trust and good faith invested by Indigenous people was quickly shut down when the Prime Minster, Malcolm Turnbull, rejected the reforms without parliamentary debate or taking them to the people via a referendum (Wahlquist Indigenous Voice Proposal; Appleby and McKinnon). In this article, we argue that through its dismissal the government treated the Uluru Statement from the Heart as a passing phase or mere “thought bubble” that was envisioned to disappear as quickly as it emerged. The Uluru Statement is a gift to the nation. One that genuinely offers new ways of envisioning and enacting reconciliation through equitable relationships between Indigenous and non-Indigenous populations. Indigenous voices lie at the heart of reconciliation but require constitutional enshrinement to ensure that Indigenous peoples and cultures are represented across all levels of government. Filter Bubbles of Distortion Constitutional change is often spoken of by politicians, its critics, and within the media as something unachievable. For example, in 2017, before even reading the accompanying report, MP Barnaby Joyce (in Fergus) publicly denounced the Uluru Statement as “unwinnable” and not “saleable”. He stated that “if you overreach in politics and ask for something that will not be supported by the Australian people such as another chamber in politics or something that sort of sits above or beside the Senate, that idea just won't fly”. Criticisms such as these are laced with paternalistic rhetoric that suggests its potential defeat at a referendum would be counterproductive and “self-defeating”, meaning that the proposed changes should be rejected for a more digestible version, ultimately saving the movement from itself. While efforts to communicate the necessity of the proposed reforms continues, presumptions that it does not have public support is simply unfounded. The Centre for Governance and Public Policy shows that 71 per cent of the public support constitutional recognition of Indigenous Australians. Furthermore, an online survey conducted by Cox Inall Ridgeway found that the majority of those surveyed supported constitutional reform to curb racism; remove section 25 and references to race; establish an Indigenous Voice to Parliament; and formally recognise Indigenous peoples through a statement of acknowledgment (Referendum Council). In fact, public support for constitutional reform is growing, with Reconciliation Australia’s reconciliation barometer survey showing an increase from 77 per cent in 2018 to 88 per cent in 2020 (Reconciliation Australia). Media – whether news, social, databases, or search engines – undoubtedly shape the lens through which people come to encounter and understand the world. The information a person receives can be the result of what Eli Pariser has described as “filter bubbles”, in which digital algorithms determine what perspectives, outlooks, and sources of information are considered important, and those that are readily accessible. Misinformation towards constitutional reform, such as that commonly circulated within mainstream and social media and propelled by high profile voices, further creates what neuroscientist Don Vaughn calls “reinforcement bubbles” (Rose Gould). This propagates particular views and stunts informed debate. Despite public support, the reforms proposed in the Uluru Statement continue to be distorted within public and political discourses, with the media used as a means to spread misinformation that equates an Indigenous Voice to Parliament to the establishment of a new “third chamber” (Wahlquist ‘Barnaby’; Karp). In a 2018 interview, PM Scott Morrison suggested that advocates and commentators in favour of constitutional reform were engaging in spin by claiming that a Voice did not function as a third chamber (Prime Minister of Australia). Morrison claimed, “people can dress it up any way they like but I think two chambers is enough”. After a decade of consultative work, eight government reports and inquiries, and countless publications and commentaries, the Uluru Statement continues to be played down as if it were a mere thought bubble, a convoluted work in progress that is in need of refinement. In the same interview, Morrison went on to say that the proposal as it stands now is “unworkable”. Throughout the ongoing movement towards constitutional reform, extensive effort has been invested into ensuring that the reforms proposed are achievable and practical. The Uluru Statement from the Heart represents the culmination of decades of work and proposes clear, concise, and relatively minimal constitutional changes that would translate to potentially significant outcomes for Indigenous Australians (Fredericks & Bradfield). International examples demonstrate how such reforms can translate into parliamentary and governing structures. The Treaty of Waitangi (Palmer) for example seeks to inform Māori and Pākehā (non-Maori) relationships in New Zealand/Aotearoa, whilst designated “Māori Seats” ensure Indigenous representation in parliament (Webster & Cheyne). More recently, 17 of 155 seats were reserved for Indigenous delegates as Chile re-writes its own constitution (Bartlett; Reuters). Indigenous communities and its leaders are more than aware of the necessity of working within the realms of possibility and the need to exhibit caution when presenting such reforms to the public. An expert panel on constitutional reform (Dodson 73), before the conception of the Uluru Statement, acknowledged this, stating “any proposal relating to constitutional recognition of the sovereign status of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples would be highly contested by many Australians, and likely to jeopardise broad public support for the Panel’s recommendations”. As outlined in the Joint Select Committee’s final report on Constitutional Recognition relating to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples (Referendum Council), the Voice to parliament would have no veto powers over parliamentary votes or decisions. It operates as a non-binding advisory body that remains external to parliamentary processes. Peak organisations such as the Law Council of Australia (Dolar) reiterate the fact that the proposed reforms are for a voice to Parliament rather than a voice in Parliament. Although not binding, the Voice should not be dismissed as symbolic or something that may be easily circumvented. Its effectiveness lies in its ability to place parliament in a position where they are forced to confront and address Indigenous questions, concerns, opinions, and suggestions within debates before decisions are made. Bursting the ‘Self-Referential Bubble’ Indigenous affairs continue to be one of the few areas where a rhetoric of bipartisan agreement is continuously referenced by both major parties. Disagreement, debate, and conflict is often avoided as governments seek to portray an image of unity, and in doing so, circumvent accusations of turning Indigenous peoples into the subjects of political point scoring. Within parliamentary debates, there is an understandable reservation and discomfort associated with discussions about what is often seen as an Indigenous “other” (Moreton-Robinson) and the policies that a predominantly white government enact over their lives. Yet, it is through rigorous, open, and informed debate that policies may be developed, challenged, and reformed. Although bipartisanship can portray an image of a united front in addressing a so-called “Indigenous problem”, it also stunts the conception of effective and culturally responsive policy. In other words, it often overlooks Indigenous voices. Whilst education and cultural competency plays a significant role within the reconciliation process, the most pressing obstacle is not necessarily non-Indigenous people’s inability to fully comprehend Indigenous lives and socio-cultural understandings. Even within an ideal world where non-Indigenous peoples attain a thorough understanding of Indigenous cultures, they will never truly comprehend what it means to be Indigenous (Fanon; de Sousa Santos). For non-Indigenous peoples, accepting one’s own limitations in fully comprehending Indigenous ontologies – and avoiding filling such gaps with one’s own interpretations and preconceptions – is a necessary component of decolonisation and the movement towards reconciliation (Grosfoguel; Mignolo). As parliament continues to be dominated by non-Indigenous representatives, structural changes are necessary to ensure that Indigenous voices are adequality represented. The structural reforms not only empower Indigenous voices through their inclusion within the parliamentary process but alleviates some of the pressures that arise out of non-Indigenous people having to make decisions in attempts to solve so-called Indigenous “problems”. Government response to constitutional reform, however, is ridden with symbolic piecemeal offerings that equate recognition to a form of acknowledgment without the structural changes necessary to protect and enshrine Indigenous Voices and parliamentary participation. Davis and her colleagues (Davis et al. “The Uluru Statement”) note how the Referendum Council’s recommendations were rejected by the then minister of Indigenous affairs Nigel Scullion on account that it privileged Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voices. They note that, until the Referendum Council's report, the nation had no real assessment of what communities wanted. Yet by all accounts, the government had spent too much time talking to elites who have regular access to them and purport to speak on the mob's behalf. If he [Scullion] got the sense constitutional symbolism and minimalism was going to fly, then it says a lot about the self-referential bubble in which the Canberra elites live. The Uluru Statement from the Heart stands as testament to Indigenous people’s refusal to be the passive recipients of the decisions of the non-Indigenous political elite. As suggested, “symbolism and minimalism was not going to fly”. Ken Wyatt, Scullion’s replacement, reiterated the importance of co-design, the limitations of government bureaucracy, and the necessity of moving beyond the “Canberra bubble”. Wyatt stated that the Voice is saying clearly that government and the bureaucracy does not know best. It can not be a Canberra-designed approach in the bubble of Canberra. We have to co-design with Aboriginal communities in the same way that we do with state and territory governments and the corporate sector. The Voice would be the mechanism through which Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander interests and perspectives may be strategically placed within parliamentary dialogues. Despite accusations of it operating as a “third chamber”, Indigenous representatives have no interest in functioning in a similar manner to a political party. The language associated with our current parliamentary system demonstrates the constrictive nature of political debate. Ministers are expected to “toe the party line”, “crossing the floor” is presented as an act of defiance, and members must be granted permission to enter a “conscience vote”. An Indigenous Voice to Parliament would be an advisory body that works alongside, but remains external to political ideologies. Their priority is to seek and implement the best outcome for their communities. Negotiations would be fluid, with no floor to cross, whilst a conscience vote would be reflected in every perspective gifted to the parliament. In the 2020 Australia and the World Annual Lecture, Pat Turner described the Voice’s co-design process as convoluted and a continuing example of the government’s neglect to hear and respond to Indigenous peoples’ interests. In the address, Turner points to the Coalition of the Peaks as an exemplar of how co-design negotiations may be facilitated by and through organisations entirely formed and run by Indigenous peoples. The Coalition of the Peaks comprises of fifty Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander community-controlled peak organisations and was established to address concerns relating to closing the gap targets. As Indigenous peak organisations are accountable to their membership and reliant on government funding, some have questioned whether they are appropriate representative bodies; cautioning that they could potentially compromise the Voice as a community-centric body free from political interference. While there is some debate over which Indigenous representatives should facilitate the co-design of a treaty and Makarrata (truth-telling), there remains a unanimous call for a constitutionally enshrined Voice to Parliament that may lead negotiations and secure its place within decision-making processes. Makarrata, Garma, and the Bubbling of New Possibilities An Indigenous Voice to Parliament can be seen as the bubbling spring that provides the source for greater growth and further reform. The Uluru Statement from the Heart calls for a three-staged approach comprising of establishing an Indigenous Voice, followed by Treaty, and then Truth-Telling. This sequence has been criticised by some who prioritise Truth and Treaty as the foundation for reform and reconciliation. Their argument is based on the notion that Indigenous Sovereignty must first be acknowledged in Parliament through an agreement-making process and signing of a Treaty. While the Uluru Statement has never lost sight of treaty, the agreement-making process must begin with the acknowledgment of Indigenous people’s inherent right to participate in the conversation. This very basic and foundational right is yet to be acknowledged within Australia’s constitution. The Uluru Statement sets the Voice as its first priority as the Voice establishes the structural foundation on which the conversation pertaining to treaty may take place. It is through the Voice that a Makarrata Commission can be formed and Indigenous and non-Indigenous peoples may “come together after a struggle” – the translation of the word’s Yolngu origins (Gaykamangu; Pearson). Only then may we engage in truth telling and forge new paths towards agreement-making and treaty. This however raises the question as to how a Voice to Parliament may look and what outcomes it aims to achieve. As discussed in the previous section, it is a question that is often distorted by disinformation and conjecture within public, political, and news-media discourses. In order to unpack what a Voice to Parliament may entail, we turn to another Yolngu word, Garma. Garma refers to an epistemic and ontological positioning in which knowledge is attained from a point where differences converge and new insights arise. For Yolngu people, Garma is the place where salt and fresh water intersect within the sea. Fresh and Salt water are the embodiments of two Yolngu clans, the Dhuwa and Yirritja, with Garma referring to the point where the knowledge and laws of each clan come into contact, seeking harmonious balance. When the ebb and flow of the tides are in balance, it causes the water to foam and bubble taking on new form and representing innovative ideas and possibilities. Yolngu embrace this phenomenon as an epistemology that teaches responsibility and obligations towards the care of Country. It acknowledges the autonomy of others and finds a space where all may mutually benefit. When the properties of either water type, or the knowledge belonging a single clan dominates, ecological, social, political, and cosmological balance is overthrown. Raymattja Marika-Munungguritj (5) describes Garma as a dynamic interaction of knowledge traditions. Fresh water from the land, bubbling up in fresh water springs to make waterholes, and salt water from the sea are interacting with each other with the energy of the tide and the energy of the bubbling spring. When the tide is high the water rises to its full. When the tide goes out the water reduces its capacity. In the same way Milngurr ebbs and flows. In this way the Dhuwa and Yirritja sides of Yolngu life work together. And in this way Balanda and Yolngu traditions can work together. There must be balance, if not either one will be stronger and will harm the other. The Ganma Theory is Yirritja, the Milngurr Theory is Dhuwa. Like the current push for constitutional change and its rejection of symbolic reforms, Indigenous peoples have demanded real-action and “not just talk” (Synott “The Uluru statement”). In doing so, they implored that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples be involved in all decision-making processes, for they are most knowledgeable of their community’s needs and the most effective methods of service delivery and policy. Indigenous peoples have repeatedly expressed this mandate, which is also legislated under international law through the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous Peoples. Coming together after a struggle does not mean that conflict and disagreement between and amongst Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities will cease. In fact, in alignment with political theories such as agonism and pluralism, coming together within a democratic system necessitates a constructive and responsive embrace of different, competing, and in some cases incommensurable views. A Voice to Parliament will operate in a manner where Indigenous perspectives and truths, as well as disagreements, may be included within negotiations and debates (Larkin & Galloway). Governments and non-Indigenous representatives will no longer speak for or on behalf of Indigenous peoples, for an Indigenous body will enact its own autonomous voice. Indigenous input therefore will not be reduced to reactionary responses and calls for reforms after the damage of mismanagement and policy failure has been caused. Indigenous voices will be permanently documented within parliamentary records and governments forced to respond to the agendas that Indigenous peoples set. Collectively, this amounts to greater participation within the democratic process and facilitates a space where “salt water” and the “bubbling springs” of fresh water may meet, mitigating the risk of harm, and bringing forth new possibilities. Conclusion When salt and fresh water combine during Garma, it begins to take on new form, eventually materialising as foam. Appearing as a singular solid object from afar, foam is but a cluster of interlocking bubbles that gain increased stability and equilibrium through sticking together. When a bubble stands alone, or a person remains within a figurative bubble that is isolated from its surroundings and other ways of knowing, doing, and being, its vulnerabilities and insecurities are exposed. Similarly, when one bubble bursts the collective cluster becomes weaker and unstable. The Uluru Statement from the Heart is a vision conceived and presented by Indigenous peoples in good faith. It offers a path forward for not only Indigenous peoples and their future generations but the entire nation (Synott “Constitutional Reform”). It is a gift and an invitation “to walk with us in a movement of the Australian people for a better future”. Through calling for the establishment of an Indigenous Voice to Parliament, a Makarrata Commission, and seeking Truth, Indigenous advocates for constitutional reform are looking to secure their own foothold and self-determination. The Uluru Statement from the Heart is more than a “thought bubble”, for it is the culmination of Indigenous people’s diverse lived experiences, outlooks, perspectives, and priorities. When the delegates met at Uluru in 2017, the thoughts, experiences, memories, and hopes of Indigenous peoples converged in a manner that created a unified front and collectively called for Voice, Treaty, and Truth. 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Songspirals bring Country into existence. Co-authored by a more-than-human, Yolŋu-led collaboration, this article centers Yolŋu understandings of time and place and elaborates on our work together through a spiral-based framework. Our Indigenous and Country-led Collective nourishes and shares some Yolŋu understandings of songspirals to enable, enrich, and awaken Country; to challenge and expand Western academic frameworks; and to contribute toward more responsive relationships between people and places. To sing or keen the spirals now means the ongoing creation of place and people—an emergent, more-than-human creativity that literally creates and re-creates existence. Songspirals are more-than-human processes that need active engagement to nourish positive relationships and to heal damaged ones. Songspirals are a keening/singing, of, with, by, for, and as Country.

This story not for myself … all over Australia story.No matter Aborigine, White-European, secret before,Didn’t like im before White-European…This time White-European must come to Aborigine,Listen Aborigine and understand it.Understand that culture, secret, what dreaming.— Senior Lawman Neidjie, Story about Feeling (78)IntroductionIn Senior Lawman Neidjie’s beautiful little book, with big knowledge, Story about Feeling (1989), he shares with us, his readers, the importance of feeling our connectedness with the land around us. We have heard his words and this is our effort to articulate our respect and responsibility in return. We are a small group of undergraduate students and a lecturer at the University of Newcastle (a mixed “mob” with non-Aboriginal and Aboriginal heritages) participating in an English course designed around listening to the knowledge stories of Country, in the context of Country as the energy and agency of the lands around us and not just a physical setting, as shared by those who know it best. We are a diverse group of people. We have different, individual, purposes for taking this course, but with a common willingness to listen which has been strengthened through our exposure to Aboriginal literature. This paper is the result of our lived experience of practice-led research. We have written this paper as a collective group and therefore we use “we” to represent and encompass our distinct voices in this shared learning journey. We write this paper within the walls, physically and psychologically, of western academia, built on the lands of the Darkinjung peoples. Our hope is to rethink the limits of epistemic boundaries in western discourses of education; to engage with Aboriginal ways of knowing predominantly through the pedagogical and personal act of listening. We aspire to reimagine our understanding of, and complicity with, public memory while simultaneously shifting our engagement with the land on which we stand, learn, and live. We ask ourselves: can we re-imagine the institutionalised space of our classroom through a dialogic pedagogy? To attempt to do this we have employed intersubjective dialogues, where our role is mostly that of listeners (readers) of stories of Country shared by Aboriginal voices and knowledges such as Neidjie’s. This paper is an articulation of our learning journey to re-imagine the tertiary classroom, re-imagine the relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australian knowledges, perspectives and peoples, re-imagine our collective consciousness on Aboriginal lands and, ultimately, to re-imagine ourselves. Re-imagining the Tertiary English Literature Classroom Our intersubjective dialogues have been built around listening to the stories (reading a book) from Aboriginal Elders who share the surface knowledge of stories from their Countries. These have been the voices of Neidjie, Max Dulumunmun Harrison in My People’s Dreaming (2013), and Laklak Burarrwanga et al. in Welcome to My Country (2013). Using a talking circle format, a traditional method of communication based upon equality and respect, within the confines of the four-walled institute of Western education, our learning journey moved through linear time, meeting once a week for two hours for 13 weeks. Throughout this time we employed Joshua Guilar’s notion of an intersubjective dialogue in the classroom to re-imagine our tertiary journey. Guilar emphasises the actions of “listening and respect, direction, character building and authority” (para 1). He argues that a dialogic classroom builds an educative community that engages both learners and teachers “where all parties are open to learning” (para 3). To re-imagine the tertiary classroom via talking circles, the lecturer drew from dialogic instruction which privileges content as:the major emphasis of the instructional conversation. Dialogic instruction includes a sharing of power. The actions of a dialogic instructor can be understood on a continuum with an autocratic instructional style at one end and an overly permissive style on the other. In the middle of the continuum are dialogic-enabling behaviors, which make possible a radical pedagogy. (para 1) Re-imaging the lecturer’s facilitating role has not been without its drawbacks and issues. In particular, she had to examine her own subjectivity and role as teacher while also adhering to the expectations of her job as an academic employee in the University. Assessing students, their developing awareness of Aboriginal ways of knowing, was not without worry. Advocating a paradigm shift from dominant ways of teaching and learning, while also adhering to expected tertiary discourses and procedures (such as developing marking rubrics and providing expectations regarding the format of an essay, referencing information, word limits, writing in standard Australian English and being assessed according to marks out of 100 that are categorised as Fails, Passes, Credits, Distinctions, or High Distinctions) required constant self-reflexivity and attempts at pedagogical transparency, for instance, the rubrics for assessing assignments were designed around the course objectives and then shared with the students to gauge understanding of, and support for, the criteria. Ultimately it was acknowledged that the lecturer’s position within the hierarchy of western learning carried with it an imbalance of power, that is, as much as she desired to create a shared and equal learning space, she decided and awarded final grades. In an effort to continually and consciously work through this, the work of Gayatri Spivak on self-reflexivity was employed: she, the lecturer, has “attempted to foreground the precariousness of [her] position throughout” although she knows “such gestures can never suffice” (271). Spivak’s work on the tendency of dominant discourses and institutions to ignore or deny the validity of non-western knowledges continues to be influential. We acknowledge the limits of our ability to engage in such a radical dialogical pedagogy: there are limits to the creativity and innovativeness that can be produced within a dominant Eurocentric academic framework. Sharing knowledge and stories cannot be a one-way process; all parties have to willingly engage in order to create meaningful exchange. This then, requires that the classroom, and this paper, reflect a space of heterogeneous voices (or “ears” required for listening) that are self-sufficiently open to hearing the stories of knowledge from the traditional custodians. Listening becomes a mode of thought where we are also aware of the impediments in our ability to hear: to hear across cultures, across histories, across generations, and across time and space. The intersubjective dialogues taking place, between us and the stories and also between each other in the classroom, allow us to deepen our understanding of the literature of Country by listening to each other’s voices. Even if they offer different opinions from our own they still contribute to our broader conception of what Country is and can mean to people. By extension, this causes us to re-evaluate the lands upon which we stand, entering a dialogue with place to reinterpret/negotiate our position within the “story” of Country. This learning and listening was re-emphasised with the words of Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann’s explanation of “Dadirri”: an inner, deep, contemplative listening and awareness (para 4). To be able to hear these stories has required a radical shift in the way we are listening. To create a space for an intersubjective dialogue to occur between the knowledge stories of Aboriginal peoples who know their Country, and us as individual and distinct listeners, Marcia Langton’s third category of an intersubjective dialogue was used. This type of dialogue involves an exchange between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians where both are positioned as subjects rather than, as historically has been the case, non-Aboriginal peoples speaking about Aboriginality positioned as “object” and “other” (81). Langton states that: ‘Aboriginality’ arises from the subjective experience of both Aboriginal people and non-Aboriginal people who engage in any intercultural dialogue, whether in actual lived experience or through a mediated experience such as a white person watching a program about Aboriginal people on television or reading a book. Moreover, the creation of ‘Aboriginality’ is not a fixed thing. It is created from out histories. It arises from the intersubjectivity of black and white in dialogue. (31)Langton states that historically the ways Aboriginality has been represented by the ethnographic gaze has meant that “Aboriginality” and what it means is a result of colonisation: Aboriginal peoples did not refer to themselves or think of themselves in such ways before colonisation. Therefore, we respectfully tried to listen to the knowledge stories shared by Aboriginal people through Aboriginal ways of knowing Country. Listening to Stories of Country We use the word “stories” to represent the knowledge of a place that traditional custodians of their land know and willingly share through the public publication of literature. Stories, in our understanding, are not “made-up” fictional narratives but knowledge documents of and from specific places that are physically manifested in the land while embodying metaphysical meaning as well. Stories are connected to the land and therefore they are connected to its people. We use the phrase “surface (public) knowledge” to distinguish between knowledges that anyone can hear and have access to in comparison with more private, deeper layered, secret/sacred knowledge that is not within our rights to possess or even within our ability to understand. We are, however, cognisant that this knowledge is there and respect those who know it. Finally, we employ the word Country, which, as noted above means the energy and agency of the lands around us. As Burarrwanga et al. share:Country has many layers of meaning. It incorporates people, animals, plants, water and land. But Country is more than just people and things, it is also what connects them to each other and to multiple spiritual and symbolic realms. It relates to laws, customs, movement, song, knowledges, relationships, histories, presents, future and spirits. Country can be talked to, it can be known, it can itself communicate, feel and take action. Country for us is alive with story, Law, power and kinship relations that join not only people to each other but link people, ancestors, place, animals, rocks, plants, stories and songs within land and sea. So you see, knowledge about Country is important because it’s about how and where you fit in the world and how you connect to others and to place. (129) Many colonists denied, and many people continue to deny today, the complexity of Aboriginal cultures and ways of knowing: “native traditions” are recorded according to Western epistemology and perceptions. Roslyn Carnes has argued that colonisation has created a situation in Australia, “where Aboriginal voices are white noise to the ears of many non-Indigenous people. […] white privilege and the resulting white noise can be minimised and greater clarity given to Aboriginal voices by privileging Indigenous knowledge and ways of working when addressing Indigenous issues. To minimise the interference of white noise, non-Indigenous people would do well to adopt a position that recognises, acknowledges and utilises some of the strengths that can be learned from Aboriginal culture and Indigenous authors” (2). To negotiate through this “white noise”, to hear the stories of Country beneath it and attempt to decolonise both our minds and the institutional discourses we work and study in (Langton calls for an undermining of the “colonial hegemony” [8]) and we have had to acknowledge and position our subjectivity as Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal peoples and try to situate ourselves as “allied listeners” (Carnes 184). Through allied listening in intersubjective dialogues, we are re-learning (re-imagining) history, reviewing dominant ideas about the world and ways of existing in it and re-situating our own positions of Aboriginality and non-Aboriginality. Rereading the Signs Welcome to My Country by Burarrwanga et al. emphasises that knowledge is embedded in Country, in everything on, in, above, and moving through country. While every rock, tree, waterhole, hill, and animal has a story (stories), so do the winds, clouds, tides, and stars. These stories are layered, they overlap, they interconnect and they remain. A physical representation such as a tree or rock, is a manifestation of a metaphysical moment, event, ancestor. The book encourages us (the readers) to listen to the knowledge that is willingly being shared, thus initiating a layer of intersubjectivity between Yolngu ways of knowing and the intended reader; the book itself is a result of an intersubjective relationship between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal women and embedded in both of these intersubjective layers is the relationship between us and this land. The book itself offers a way of engaging with the physical environment that combines western processes (standard Australian written English for instance) with Aboriginal ways of knowing, in this instance, Yolngu ways. It is an immediate way of placing oneself in time and space, for instance it was August when we first read the book so it was the dry season and time for hunting. Reading the environment in such a way means that we need to be aware of what is happening around us, allowing us to see the “rules” of a place and “feel” it (Neidjie). We now attempt to listen more closely to our own environments, extending our understanding of place and reconsidering our engagement with Darkinjung land. Neidjie, Harrison, and Burarrwanga et al. share knowledge that helps us re-imagine our way of reading the signs around us—the physical clues (when certain plants flower it might signal the time to catch certain fish or animals; when certain winds blow it might signal the time to perform certain duties) that the land provides but there is also another layer of meaning—explanations for certain animal behaviours, for certain sites, for certain rights. Beneath these layers are other layers that may or may not be spoken of, some of them are hinted at in the text and others, it is explained, are not allowed to be spoken of or shared at this point in time. “We use different language for different levels: surface, middle and hidden. Hidden languages are not known to everyone and are used for specific occasions” (Burarrwanga et al. 131). “Through language we learn about country, about boundaries, inside and outside knowledge” (Burarrwanga et al. 132). Many of the esoteric (knowledge for a certain few) stories are too different from our dominant discourses for us to understand even if they could be shared with us. Laklak Burarrwanga happily shares the surface layer though, and like Neidjie, refers to the reader as “you”. So this was where we began our intersubjective dialogue with Aboriginality, non-Aboriginality and Country. In Harrison’s My People’s Dreaming he explains how Aboriginal ways of knowing are built on watching, listening, and seeing. “If we don’t follow these principles then we don’t learn anything” (59). Engaging with Aboriginal knowledges such as Harrison’s three principles, Neidjie’s encouragement to listen, and Burarrwanga et al.’s welcoming into wetj (sharing and responsibility) has impacted on our own ideas and practices regarding how we learn. We have had to shelve our usual method of deconstructing or analysing a text and instead focus on simply hearing and feeling the stories. If we (as a collective, and individually) perceive “gaps” in the stories or in our understanding, that is, the sense that there is more information embodied in Country than what we are receiving, rather than attempting to find out more, we have respected the act of the surface story being shared, realising that perhaps deeper knowledge is not meant for us (as outsiders, as non-Aboriginal peoples or even as men or as women). This is at odds with how we are generally expected to function as tertiary students (that is, as independent researchers/analytical scholars). We have identified this as a space in which we can listen to Aboriginal ways of knowing to develop our understanding of Aboriginal epistemologies, within a university setting that is governed by western ideologies. Neidjie reminds us that a story might be, “forty-two thousand [years]” old but in sharing a dialogue with each other, we keep it alive (101). Kwaymullina and Kwaymullina argue that in contrast, “the British valued the wheel, but they did not value its connection to the tree” (197), that is, western ways of knowing and being often favour the end result, disregarding the process, the story and the cycle where the learning occurs. Re-imagining Our Roles and Responsibility in Discourses of ReconciliationSuch a space we see as an alternative concept of spatial politics: “one that is rooted not solely in a politics of the nation, but instead reflects the diverse spaces that construct the postcolonial experience” (Upstone 1). We have almost envisioned this as fragmented and compartmentalised palimpsestic layers of different spaces (colonial, western, national, historical, political, topographical, social, educational) constructed on Aboriginal lands and knowledges. In this re-imagined learning space we are trying to negotiate through the white noise to listen to the voices of Aboriginal peoples. The transformative power of these voices—voices that invite us, welcome us, into their knowledge of Country—provide powerful messages for the possibility of change, “It is they who not only present the horrors of current circumstances but, gesturing towards the future, also offer the possibility of a way to move forward” (Upstone 184). In Harrison’s My People’s Dreaming, his chapter on Forgiveness both welcomes the reader into his Country while acknowledging that Australia’s shared history of colonisation is painful to confront, but only by confronting it, can we begin to heal and move forward. While notions of social reconciliation revolve around rebuilding social relations between Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians, “ecological reconciliation involves restoring ecological connectivity, sustaining ecological services, sustaining biodiversity, and making tough decisions from an eco-centric point of view that will not always prioritise human desire” (Rose 7). Deborah Bird Rose identifies four reasons why ecological reconciliation must occur simultaneously with social reconciliation. First, “without an imaginable world for the future, there is no point even to imagining a future for ourselves” (Rose 2). Second, for us to genuinely embrace reconciliation we must work to respond to land rights, environmental restoration and the protection of sacred sites. Third, we must recognise that “society and environment are inextricably connected” (Rose 2) and that this is especially so for Aboriginal Australians. Finally, Aboriginal ways of knowing could provide answers to postcolonial environmental degradation. By employing Guilar’s notion of the dialogic classroom as a method of critical pedagogy designed to promote social justice, we recognise our own responsibilities when it comes to issues such as ecology due to these stories being shared with us about and from Country via the literature we read. We write this paper in the hope of articulating our experience of re-imagining and enacting an embodied cognisance (understood as response and responsibility) tuned towards these ways of knowing. We have re-imagined the classroom as a new space of learning where Aboriginal ways of knowing are respected alongside dominant educational discourses. That is, our reimagined classroom includes: the substance of [...] a transactive public memory [...] informed by the reflexive attentiveness to the retelling or representation of a complex of emotionally evocative narratives and images which define not necessarily agreement but points of connection between people in regard to a past that they both might acknowledge the touch of. (Simon 63) Through an intersubjective dialogic classroom we have attempted to reimagine our relationships with the creators of these texts and the ways of knowing they represent. In doing so, we move beyond dominant paradigms of the land around us, re-assessing our roles and responsibilities in ways that are both practical and manageable in our own lives (within and outside of the classroom). Making conscious our awareness of Aboriginal ways of knowing, we create a collective consciousness in our little circle within the dominant western space of academic discourse to, wilfully and hopefully, contribute to transformative social and educational change outside of it. Because we have heard and listened to the stories of Country: We know White-European got different story.But our story, everything dream,Dreaming, secret, ‘business’…You can’t lose im.This story you got to hang on for you,Children, new children, no-matter new generationAnd how much new generation.You got to hang on this old story because the earth, This ground, earth where you brought up, This earth e grow, you growing little by little, Tree growing with you too, grass…I speaking storyAnd this story you got to hang on, no matter who you, No-matter what country you.You got to understand…this world for us.We came for this world. (Neidjie 166) Acknowledgements The authors acknowledge the traditional custodians of the lands upon which this paper was researched and written. References Burarrwanga, Laklak, Ritjilili Ganambarr, Merrkiyawuy Ganambarr-Stubbs, Banbapuy Ganambarr, Djawundil Maymuru, Sarah Wright, Sandie Suchet-Pearson, and Kate Lloyd. Welcome to My Country. Sydney: Allen & Unwin, 2013. Carnes, Roslyn. “Changing Listening Frequency to Minimise White Noise and Hear Indigenous Voices.” Journal of Australian Indigenous Issues 14.2-3 (2011): 170-84. Guilar, Joshua D. “Intersubjectivity and Dialogic Instruction.” Radical Pedagogy 8.1 (2006): 1. Harrison, Max D. My People’s Dreaming: An Aboriginal Elder Speaks on Life, Land, Spirit and Forgiveness. Sydney: HarperCollins Australia, 2013. Kwaymullina, Ambelin, and Blaze Kwaymullina. “Learning to Read the Signs: Law in an Indigenous Reality.” Journal of Australian Studies 34.2 (2010): 195-208.Langton, Marcia. Well, I Saw It on the Television and I Heard It on the Radio. Sydney: Australian Film Commission, 1993. Neidjie, Bill. Story about Feeling. Broome: Magabala Books, 1989. Rose, Deborah Bird. “The Ecological Power and Promise of Reconciliation.” National Institute of the Environment Public Lecture Series, 20 Nov. 2002. Speech. Parliament House. Simon, Roger. “The Touch of the Past: The Pedagogical Significance of a Transactional Sphere of Public Memory.” Revolutionary Pedagogies: Cultural Politics, Instituting Education, and the Discourse of Theory (2000): 61-80. Spivak, Gayatri. C. “'Can the Subaltern Speak?' Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture.” Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture. Eds. Nelson, Cary and Lawrence Grossberg. Urbana, IL: U of Illinois P, 1988. 271-313. Ungunmerr-Baumann, Miriam-Rose. Dadirri: Inner Deep Listening and Quiet Still Awareness. Emmaus Productions, 2002. 14 June 2015 ‹http://nextwave.org.au/wp-content/uploads/Dadirri-Inner-Deep-Listening-M-R-Ungunmerr-Bauman-Refl.pdf›.Upstone, Sara. Spatial Politics in the Postcolonial Novel. Burlington, VT: Ashgate Publishing, 2013.

Giftedness has long been recognised as a cultural construct. Further, the processes and practices for developing talents are culturally influenced. Yet, there is little existing research into Australian Aboriginal understandings of giftedness and talent. There is a need to move beyond pan-Aboriginality when considering Australian Aboriginal views, and with this in mind, this paper reports the findings of an investigation into Yolŋu conceptions of giftedness, talent, and talent development. Importantly, for the Yolŋu participants in this study, these constructs are grounded in their foundation law (Djalkiri Rom). It follows that identification of giftedness relies on observation of traits and behaviours that, when harnessed, will serve these cultural priorities. It also follows that the practices and processes used by the Yolŋu to develop talents will be mediated by their cultural milieu. This has implications for young people from cultural minority backgrounds, including Australian Aboriginal students, who often find their approaches to giftedness and talent sidelined at school.

This paper examines the place of creativity amid orthodox musical elements in the manikay (public song) tradition of the Yolŋu people of Northern Australia, particularly the song repertoire belonging to the Wägilak clan from Ŋilipidji. Beginning with the Yolŋu metaphor of raki (string) as it describes an individual’s historical constitution, an examination of productive ambiguities built into the rhythmic (bilma) and intervallic (dämbu) forms of manikay underpins the assertion that tradition speaks with living relevance through performed realisation and improvisation. The Australian Art Orchestra’s collaboration with Wägilak songmen, "Crossing Roper Bar," is introduced as a dramatic example of the manikay tradition working in and through contemporary expressions and contexts. This project sustains the ancestral bones of manikay, dutifully curated through the generations as an integral, orthodox framework with complex social, legal, and religious significances. Here, discursive musical conversation is central to a non-appropriative engagement with cultural difference and musical forms from the past.

Building roads has been indispensable for civilizations from past to present. The geographies and civilizations where the roads were built played an important role in the construction of the road, ensuring its continuity and gaining an identity. The aim of this study is to reveal the construction process of the Kırkdilim road, which has been under construction for more than half a century, how it turned into a tainted road in the historical process, and the reflections of the political decisions taken in the field. For this purpose, field studies were carried out at intervals between 2018-2022. During these studies, interviews consisting of open-ended questions were conducted with the local people. The results of the research revealed that the effect of the geological and geomorphological structure in the area, technical inadequacies and political decisions are among the biggest reasons why the Kırkdilim road could not be completed for more than half a century in the historical process. Due to the slope conditions of the Mesozoic limestones and conglomerate formations in the area, their mobility is high. Tunnels and roads built in the area in previous years have become unusable due to landslides and rockfalls, and many fatal accidents have occurred. The historical process, especially the reflections of the political decisions taken, has made the Kırkdilim road a tainted place. The experiences, narratives and stories of the people who use this tainted area have been passed down from generation to generation. Today, the area is a tainted place both in terms of local people, drivers and passengers using the area, aesthetically and archaeologically, and politically.

…love is queered not when we discover it to be resistant to or more than its known forms, but when we see that there is no world that admits how it actually works as a principle of living. Lauren Berlant – “Love, A Queer Feeling” As the sun beats down on a very dusty Musgrave Park, the crowd is hushed in respect for the elder addressing us. It is Pride Fair Day and we are listening to the story of how this place has been a home for queer and black people throughout Brisbane’s history. Like so many others, this park has been a place of refuge in times when Boundary Streets marked the lines aboriginal people couldn’t cross to enter the genteel heart of Brisbane’s commercial district. The street names remain today, and even if movements across territory are somewhat less constrained, a manslaughter trial taking place nearby reminds us of the surveillance aboriginal people still suffer as a result of their refusal to stay off the streets and out of sight in homes they don’t have. In the past few years, Fair Day has grown in size. It now charges an entry fee to fence out unwelcome guests, so that those who normally live here have been effectively uninvited from the party. On this sunny Saturday, we sit and talk about these things, and wonder at the number of spaces still left in this city for spontaneous, non-commercial encounters and alliances. We could hardly have known that in the course of just a few weeks, the distance separating us from others would grow even further. During the course of Brisbane’s month-long Pride celebrations in 2007, two events affected the rights agendas of both queer and black Australians. First, The Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission Report, Same Sex, Same Entitlements, was tabled in parliament. Second, the Federal government decided to declare a state of emergency in remote indigenous communities in the Northern Territory in response to an inquiry on the state of aboriginal child abuse. (The full title of the report is “Ampe Akelyernemane Meke Mekarle”: Little Children are Sacred, and the words are from the Arrandic languages of the Central Desert Region of the Northern Territory. The report’s front cover also explains the title in relation to traditional law of the Yolngu people of Arnhem Land.) While the latter issue has commanded the most media and intellectual attention, and will be discussed later in this piece, the timing of both reports provides an opportunity to consider the varying experiences of two particularly marginalised groups in contemporary Australia. In a period when the Liberal Party has succeeded in pitting minority claims against one another as various manifestations of “special interests” (Brett, Gregg) this essay suggests there is a case to be made for queer and black activists to join forces against wider tendencies that affect both communities. To do this I draw on the work of American critic, Lauren Berlant, who for many years has offered a unique take on debates about citizenship in the United States. Writing from a queer theory perspective, Berlant argues that the conservative political landscape in her country has succeeded in convincing people that “the intimacy of citizenship is something scarce and sacred, private and proper, and only for members of families” (Berlant Queen 2-3). The consequence of this shift is that politics moves from being a conversation conducted in the public sphere about social issues to instead resemble a form of adjudication on the conduct of others in the sphere of private life. In this way, Berlant indicates how heteronormative culture “uses cruel and mundane strategies both to promote change from non-normative populations and to deny them state, federal, and juridical supports because they are deemed morally incompetent to their own citizenship” (Berlant, Queen 19). In relation to the so-called state of emergency in the Northern Territory, coming so soon after attempts to encourage indigenous home-ownership in the same region, the compulsion to promote change from non-normative populations currently affects indigenous Australians in ways that resonate with Berlant’s argument. While her position reacts to an environment where the moral majority has a much firmer hold on the national political spectrum, in Australia these conservative forces have no need to be so eloquent—normativity is already embedded in a particular form of “ordinariness” that is the commonsense basis for public political debate (Allon, Brett and Moran). These issues take on further significance as home-ownership and aspirations towards it have gradually become synonymous with the demonstration of appropriate citizenship under the Coalition government: here, phrases like “an interest rate election” are assumed to encapsulate voter sentiment while “the mortgage belt” has emerged as the demographic most keenly wooed by precariously placed politicians. As Berlant argues elsewhere, the project of normalization that makes heterosexuality hegemonic also entails “material practices that, though not explicitly sexual, are implicated in the hierarchies of property and propriety” that secure heteronormative privilege (Berlant and Warner 548). Inhabitants of remote indigenous communities in Australia are invited to desire and enact normal homes in order to be accepted and rewarded as valuable members of the nation; meanwhile gay and lesbian couples base their claims for recognition on the adequate manifestation of normal homes. In this situation black and queer activists share an interest in elaborating forms of kinship and community that resist the limited varieties of home-building currently sanctioned and celebrated by the State. As such, I will conclude this essay with a model for this alternative process of home-building in the hope of inspiring others. Home Sweet Home Ever since the declaration of terra nullius, white Australia has had a hard time recognising homes it doesn’t consider normal. To the first settlers, indigenous people’s uncultivated land lacked meaning, their seasonal itinerancy challenged established notions of property, while their communal living and wider kinship relations confused nuclear models of procreative responsibility and ancestry. From the homes white people still call “camps” many aboriginal people were moved against their will on to “missions” which even in name invoked the goal of assimilation into mainstream society. So many years later, white people continue to maintain that their version of homemaking is the most superior, the most economically effective, the most functional, with government policy and media commentators both agreeing that “the way out of indigenous disadvantage is home ownership.”(The 1 July broadcast of the esteemed political chat show Insiders provides a representative example of this consensus view among some of the country’s most respected journalists.) In the past few months, low-interest loans have been touted as the surest route out of the shared “squalor” (Weekend Australian, June 30-July1) of communal living and the right path towards economic development in remote aboriginal communities (Karvelas, “New Deal”). As these references suggest, The Australian newspaper has been at the forefront of reporting these government initiatives in a positive light: one story from late May featured a picture of Tiwi Islander Mavis Kerinaiua watering her garden with the pet dog and sporting a Tigers Aussie Rules singlet. The headline, “Home, sweet home, for Mavis” (Wilson) was a striking example of a happy and contented black woman in her own backyard, especially given how regularly mainstream national news coverage of indigenous issues follows a script of failed aboriginal communities. In stories like these, communal land ownership is painted as the cause of dysfunction, and individual homes are crucial to “changing the culture.” Never is it mentioned that communal living arrangements clearly were functional before white settlement, were an intrinsic part of “the culture”; nor is it acknowledged that the option being offered to indigenous people is land that had already been taken away from them in one way or another. That this same land can be given back only on certain conditions—including financially rewarding those who “prove they are doing well” by cultivating their garden in recognisably right ways (Karvelas, “New Deal”)— bolsters Berlant’s claim that government rhetoric succeeds by transforming wider structural questions into matters of individual responsibility. Home ownership is the stunningly selective neoliberal interpretation of “land rights”. The very notion of private property erases the social and cultural underpinnings of communal living as a viable way of life, stigmatising any alternative forms of belonging that might form the basis for another kind of home. Little Children Are Sacred The latest advance in efforts to encourage greater individual responsibility in indigenous communities highlights child abuse as the pivotal consequence of State and Local government inaction. The innocent indigenous child provides the catalyst for a myriad of competing political positions, the most vocal of which welcomes military intervention on behalf of powerless, voiceless kids trapped in horrendous scenarios (Kervalas, “Pearson’s Passion”). In these representations, the potentially abused aboriginal child takes on “supericonicity” in public debate. In her North American context, Berlant uses this concept to explain how the unborn child figures in acrimonious arguments over abortion. The foetus has become the most mobilising image in the US political scene because: it is an image of an American, perhaps the last living American, not yet bruised by history: not yet caught up in the processes of secularisation and centralisation… This national icon is too innocent of knowledge, agency, and accountability and thus has ethical claims on the adult political agents who write laws, make culture, administer resources, control things. (Berlant, Queen 6) In Australia, the indigenous child takes on supericonicity because he or she is too young to formulate a “black armband” view of history, to have a point of view on why their circumstance happens to be so objectionable, to vote out the government that wants to survey and penetrate his or her body. The child’s very lack of agency is used as justification for the military action taken by those who write laws, make the culture that will be recognized as an appropriate performance of indigeneity, administer (at the same time as they cut) essential resources; those who, for the moment, control things. However, and although a government perspective would not recognize this, in Australia the indigenous child is always already bruised by conventional history in the sense that he or she will have trouble accessing the stories of ancestors and therefore the situation that affects his or her entry into the world. Indeed, it is precisely the extent to which the government denies its institutional culpability in inflicting wounds on aboriginal people throughout history that the indigenous child’s supericonicity is now available as a political weapon. Same-Sex: Same Entitlements A situation in which the desire for home ownership is pedagogically enforced while also being economically sanctioned takes on further dimensions when considered next to the fate of other marginalised groups in society—those for whom an appeal for acceptance and equal rights pivots on the basis of successfully performing normal homes. While indigenous Australians are encouraged to aspire for home ownership as the appropriate manifestation of responsible citizenship, the HREOC report represents a group of citizens who crave recognition for already having developed this same aspiration. In the case studies selected for the Same-Sex: Same Entitlements Report, discrimination against same-sex couples is identified in areas such as work and taxation, workers’ compensation, superannuation, social security, veterans’ entitlements and childrearing. It recommends changes to existing laws in these areas to match those that apply to de facto relationships. When launching the report, the commissioner argued that gay people suffer discrimination “simply because of whom they love”, and the report launch quotes a “self-described ‘average suburban family’” who insist “we don’t want special treatment …we just want equality” (HREOC). Such positioning exercises give some insight into Berlant’s statement that “love is a site that has perhaps not yet been queered enough” (Berlant, “Love” 433). A queer response to the report might highlight that by focussing on legal entitlements of the most material kind, little is done to challenge the wider situation in which one’s sexual relationship has the power to determine intimate possessions and decisions—whether this is buying a plane ticket, getting a loan, retiring in some comfort or finding a nice nursing home. An agenda calling for legislative changes to financial entitlement serves to reiterate rather than challenge the extent to which economically sanctioned subjectivities are tied to sexuality and normative models of home-building. A same-sex rights agenda promoting traditional notions of procreative familial attachment (the concerned parents of gay kids cited in the report, the emphasis on the children of gay couples) suggests that this movement for change relies on a heteronormative model—if this is understood as the manner in which the institutions of personal life remain “the privileged institutions of social reproduction, the accumulation and transfer of capital, and self-development” (Berlant and Warner 553). What happens to those who do not seek the same procreative path? Put another way, the same-sex entitlements discourse can be seen to demand “intelligibility” within the hegemonic understanding of love, when love currently stands as the primordial signifier and ultimate suturing device for all forms of safe, reliable and useful citizenly identity (Berlant, “Love”). In its very terminology, same-sex entitlement asks to access the benefits of normativity without challenging the ideological or economic bases for its attachment to particular living arrangements and rewards. The political agenda for same-sex rights taking shape in the Federal arena appears to have chosen its objectives carefully in order to fit existing notions of proper home building and the economic incentives that come with them. While this is understandable in a conservative political environment, a wider agenda for queer activism in and outside the home would acknowledge that safety, security and belonging are universal desires that stretch beyond material acquisitions, financial concerns and procreative activity (however important these things are). It is to the possibilities this perspective might generate that I now turn. One Size Fits Most Urban space is always a host space. The right to the city extends to those who use the city. It is not limited to property owners. (Berlant and Warner, 563) The affective charge and resonance of a concept like home allows an opportunity to consider the intimacies particular to different groups in society, at the same time as it allows contemplation of the kinds of alliances increasingly required to resist neoliberalism’s impact on personal space. On one level, this might entail publicly denouncing representations of indigenous living conditions that describe them as “squalor” as some kind of hygienic short-hand that comes at the expense of advocating infrastructure suited to the very different way of living that aboriginal kinship relations typically require. Further, as alternative cultural understandings of home face ongoing pressure to fit normative ideals, a key project for contemporary queer activism is to archive, document and publicise the varied ways people choose to live at this point in history in defiance of sanctioned arrangements (eg Gorman-Murray 2007). Rights for gay and lesbian couples and parents need not be called for in the name of equality if to do so means reproducing a logic that feeds the worst stereotypes around non-procreating queers. Such a perspective fares poorly for the many literally unproductive citizens, queer and straight alike, whose treacherous refusal to breed banishes them from the respectable suburban politics to which the current government caters. Which takes me back to the park. Later that afternoon on Fair Day, we’ve been entertained by a range of performers, including the best Tina Turner impersonator I’ll ever see. But the highlight is the festival’s special guest, Vanessa Wagner who decides to end her show with a special ceremony. Taking the role of celebrant, Vanessa invites three men on to the stage who she explains are in an ongoing, committed three-way relationship. Looking a little closer, I remember meeting these blokes at a friend’s party last Christmas Eve: I was the only girl in an apartment full of gay men in the midst of some serious partying (and who could blame them, on the eve of an event that holds dubious relevance for their preferred forms of intimacy and celebration?). The wedding takes place in front of an increasingly boisterous crowd that cannot fail to appreciate the gesture as farcically mocking the sacred bastion of gay activism—same-sex marriage. But clearly, the ceremony plays a role in consecrating the obvious desire these men have for each other, in a safe space that feels something like a home. Their relationship might be a long way from many people’s definition of normal, but it clearly operates with care, love and a will for some kind of longevity. For queer subjects, faced with a history of persecution, shame and an unequal share of a pernicious illness, this most banal of possible definitions of home has been a luxury difficult to afford. Understood in this way, queer experience is hard to compare with that of indigenous people: “The queer world is a space of entrances, exits, unsystematised lines of acquaintance, projected horizons, typifying examples, alternate routes, blockages, incommensurate geographies” (Berlant and Warner 558). In many instances, it has “required the development of kinds of intimacy that bear no necessary relation to domestic space, to kinship, to the couple form, to property, or to the nation” (ibid) in liminal and fleeting zones of improvisation like parties, parks and public toilets. In contrast, indigenous Australians’ distinct lines of ancestry, geography, and story continue through generations of kin in spite of the efforts of a colonising power to reproduce others in its own image. But in this sense, what queer and black Australians now share is the fight to live and love in more than one way, with more than one person: to extend relationships of care beyond the procreative imperative and to include land that is beyond the scope of one’s own backyard. Both indigenous and queer Australians stand to benefit from a shared project “to support forms of affective, erotic and personal living that are public in the sense of accessible, available to memory, and sustained through collective activity” (Berlant and Warner 562). To build this history is to generate an archive that is “not simply a repository” but “is also a theory of cultural relevance” (Halberstam 163). A queer politics of home respects and learns from different ways of organising love, care, affinity and responsibility to a community. This essay has been an attempt to document other ways of living that take place in the pockets of one city, to show that homes often exist where others see empty space, and that love regularly survives beyond the confines of the couple. In learning from the history of oppression experienced in the immediate territories I inhabit, I also hope it captures what it means to reckon with the ongoing knowledge of being an uninvited guest in the home of another culture, one which, through shared activism, will continue to survive much longer than this, or any other archive. References Allon, Fiona. “Home as Cultural Translation: John Howard’s Earlwood.” Communal/Plural 5 (1997): 1-25. Berlant, Lauren. The Queen of America Goes to Washington City: Essays on Sex and Citizenship. Durham: Duke University Press, 1997. ———. “Love, A Queer Feeling.” Homosexuality and Psychoanalysis. Eds. Tim Dean and Christopher Lane. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 2001. 432-51. ———, and Michael Warner. “Sex in Public.” Critical Inquiry 24.2 (1998): 547-566. Brett, Judith. Australian Liberals and the Moral Middle Class: From Alfred Deakin to John Howard. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003. ———, and Anthony Moran. Ordinary People’s Politics: Australians Talk About Politics, Life and the Future of Their Country. Melbourne: Pluto Press, 2006. Gorman-Murray, Andrew. “Contesting Domestic Ideals: Queering the Australian Home.” Australian Geographer 38.2 (2007): 195-213. Gregg, Melissa. “The Importance of Being Ordinary.” International Journal of Cultural Studies 10.1 (2007): 95-104. Halberstam, Judith. In a Queer Time and Place: Transgender Bodies, Subcultural Lives. New York and London: NYU Press, 2005 Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission. Same-Sex: Same Entitlements Report. 2007. 21 Aug. 2007 http://www.hreoc.gov.au/human_rights/samesex/report/index.html>. ———. Launch of Final Report of the Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission’s Same-Sex: Same Entitlements Inquiry (transcript). 2007. 5 July 2007 . Insiders. ABC TV. 1 July 2007. 5 July 2007 http://www.abc.net.au/insiders/content/2007/s1966728.htm>. Karvelas, Patricia. “It’s New Deal or Despair: Pearson.” The Weekend Australian 12-13 May 2007: 7. ———. “How Pearson’s Passion Moved Howard to Act.” The Australian. 23 June 2007. 5 July 2007 http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,21952951-5013172,00.html>. Northern Territory Government Inquiry Report into the Protection of Aboriginal Children from Sexual Abuse. Ampe Akelyernemane Meke Mekarle: Little Children Are Sacred. 2007. 5 July 2007 http://www.nt.gov.au/dcm/inquirysaac/pdf/bipacsa_final_report.pdf>. Wilson, Ashleigh. “Home, Sweet Home, for Mavis.” The Weekend Australian 12-13 May 2007: 7. Citation reference for this article MLA Style Gregg, Melissa. "Normal Homes." M/C Journal 10.4 (2007). echo date('d M. Y'); ?> <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/02-gregg.php>. APA Style Gregg, M. (Aug. 2007) "Normal Homes," M/C Journal, 10(4). Retrieved echo date('d M. Y'); ?> from <http://journal.media-culture.org.au/0708/02-gregg.php>.

ÖZET İnternet kullanımı teknolojik gelişmelerle birlikte tüm dünyada her yaş grubundan insan arasında hızla yaygınlaşmaktadır. Bazı kişilerde internetin yoğun, sık ve kontrolsüz kullanımı, internet yolu ile kolayca ve hızlıca karşılanan duygusal ve sosyal ihtiyaçların etkisi ile birlikte bağımlılık gelişebilmektedir. İnternet kullanımı bağımlılık düzeyine ulaştığında ise bir takım sorunlara yol açabilmektedir. İnternet bağımlılığı kavramı DSM 5’de henüz bir bağımlılık olarak yer almasa da internetin ve internette yer alan uygulamaların davranışsal bir bağımlılık meydana getirebilecek şekilde problemli kullanımının etkileri uzun bir müddettir pek çok araştırmacı tarafından incelenmektedir. Bu çalışmada internet bağımlılığını etkileyen faktörlere dair yapılan çalışmaların güncel olarak derlenmesi amaçlanmıştır. ABSTRACT Internet usage is spreading rapidly among people of all age groups all over the world with technological developments. In some people, addiction may develop with the intense, frequent and uncontrolled use of the internet, and the effects of emotional and social needs that are easily and quickly met via the internet. Internet use can cause some problems when it reaches the level of addiction. Although the concept of internet addiction is not yet included in DSM 5 as an addiction, the effects of problematic use of the internet and its applications in a way that can lead to behavioral addiction have been studied by many researchers for a long time. In this study, it is aimed to compile up-to-date studies on factors affecting internet addiction.

Abstract Background In hospitals globally, patient centred communication is difficult to practice, and interpreters are underused. Low uptake of interpreters is commonly attributed to limited interpreter availability, time constraints and that interpreter-medicated communication in healthcare is an aberration. In Australia’s Northern Territory at Royal Darwin Hospital, it is estimated around 50% of Aboriginal patients would benefit from an interpreter, yet approximately 17% get access. Recognising this contributes to a culturally unsafe system, Royal Darwin Hospital and the NT Aboriginal Interpreter Service embedded interpreters in a renal team during medical ward rounds for 4 weeks in 2019. This paper explores the attitudinal and behavioural changes that occurred amongst non-Indigenous doctors and Aboriginal language interpreters during the pilot. Methods This pilot was part of a larger Participatory Action Research study examining strategies to achieve culturally safe communication at Royal Darwin Hospital. Two Yolŋu and two Tiwi language interpreters were embedded in a team of renal doctors. Data sources included interviews with doctors, interpreters, and an interpreter trainer; reflective journals by doctors; and researcher field notes. Inductive thematic analysis, guided by critical theory, was conducted. Results Before the pilot, frustrated doctors unable to communicate effectively with Aboriginal language speaking patients acknowledged their personal limitations and criticised hospital systems that prioritized perceived efficiency over interpreter access. During the pilot, knowledge of Aboriginal cultures improved and doctors adapted their work routines including lengthening the duration of bed side consults. Furthermore, attitudes towards culturally safe communication in the hospital changed: doctors recognised the limitations of clinically focussed communication and began prioritising patient needs and interpreters who previously felt unwelcome within the hospital reported feeling valued as skilled professionals. Despite these benefits, resistance to interpreter use remained amongst some members of the multi-disciplinary team. Conclusions Embedding Aboriginal interpreters in a hospital renal team which services predominantly Aboriginal peoples resulted in the delivery of culturally competent care. By working with interpreters, non-Indigenous doctors were prompted to reflect on their attitudes which deepened their critical consciousness resulting in behaviour change. Scale up of learnings from this pilot to broader implementation in the health service is the current focus of ongoing implementation research.

The concept of "subjective well-being" is used as a term for happiness in positive psychology. The subjective well-being called "happiness" among the people is the emotional and cognitive evaluation of the life. Being in a romantic relationship is one of the factors that increase the subjective well-being of the individual. Being in a romantic relationship can provide satisfaction and happiness to the individual, as well as causing events that would lead to get hurt from time to time. Here, the individual displays behaviours such as avoidance or revenge or prefers forgiving as a result of negative emotions caused by getting hurt. In this study, it is aimed to investigate whether the forgiveness levels of university students who have romantic relationship predicts the subjective well-being or not. The study is performed on 329 students who are studying at Hitit University and On Dokuz Mayıs University in 2016-2017 academic year and who have romantic relationships. "Heartland Forgiveness Scale", "Positive Negative Feelings Scale" and "Life Satisfaction Scale" and "Personal Information Form" prepared by the researchers are used in the study. In the study, it can be stated that as the forgiveness scores of the students increase, the subjective well-being scores are also found to increase thus high forgiveness is a factor that increases the subjective well-being level. As a result of the study, the predictor effect of forgiveness levels on subjective well-being is examined and it is determined that self-forgiveness, forgiving others and forgiving the situation which are the sub-dimensions of forgiveness explain 13% of the subjective well-being. Extended English abstract is in the end of Full Text PDF (TURKISH) file.Özet“Öznel iyi-oluş” kavramı pozitif psikolojide mutluluk kavramının karşılığı olarak kullanılmaktadır. Halk arasında ”mutluluk” olarak adlandırılan öznel iyi oluş yaşamın duygusal ve bilişsel açıdan değerlendirilmesidir. Romantik ilişki içerisinde olmak, bireyin öznel iyi oluşunu artıran etkenlerden biridir. Romantik ilişki içerisinde olmak bireylere doyum ve mutluluk sağladığı gibi zaman zaman incinmesine yol açacak olaylar yaşamasına da neden olabilmektedir. Birey incinmenin getirdiği olumsuz duygular sonucunda kaçınma ya da öç alma gibi davranışlar sergilemekte ya da affetme yolunu seçmektedir. Bu çalışmada romantik ilişki yaşayan üniversite öğrencilerinin affedicilik düzeylerinin öznel iyi oluşlarını yordayıp yordamadığının incelenmesi amaçlanmıştır. Çalışma 2016-2017 eğitim öğretim yılında Hitit Üniversitesi ve Ondokuz Mayıs Üniversitesinde öğrenim gören ve romantik ilişkisi olan 329 öğrenci üzerinde gerçekleştirilmiştir. Çalışmada araştırmacılar tarafından hazırlanan “Kişisel Bilgi Formu” ile “Heartland Affetme Ölçeği”, “Pozitif Negatif Duygu Ölçeği” ve “Yaşam Doyum Ölçeği” kullanılmıştır. Araştırmada öğrencilerin affetme puanları arttıkça öznel iyi oluş puanlarının da arttığı belirlenmiştir ve bu sonuca göre affediciliğin yüksek olmasının öznel iyi oluş düzeyini artıran bir faktör olduğu söylenebilir. Araştırma sonucunda affedicilik düzeylerinin öznel iyi oluş üzerinde yordayıcı etkisi incelenmiş ve affetmenin alt boyutları olan kendini affetme, başkalarını affetme ve durumu affetme öznel iyi oluşun % 13’ünü açıkladığı belirlenmiştir.

In Turkish literature, in addition to the works that deal specifically with the sea and the ship, we also see that more comprehensive works dealing with different subjects devote certain parts of them to the issues related to the sea and the ship. Garîb-nâme is one of the works that addresses this subject from a sufistic/mystical point of view in one of its chapters. Completed in 1330 by Âşık Paşa, one of the 14th century Ottoman scholars, poets and sufis, Garîb-nâme is a mesnevi of more than 10,000 couplets. It is an exceptional work in terms of content and form and has a distinguished place in Turkish literature in terms of the richness of the subjects it handles. In each chapter of the book, which is organized in 10 chapters, 10 stories are told about each of the chapter numbers and the issues related to that number are addressed. The 10th story of the eighth chapter of Garib-nâme concerns eight elements necessary for a ship to sail safely. In the work, each of these elements, which are listed as “deniz/su” sea/water, “gemi (geminin gövdesi)” ship (ship's hull), “yelken” sail, “yel” wind, “lenger” anchor, “üstâd/gemici/keştîbân” master/sailor/captain, “âdemi/halk (yolcu)” mankind/people (passengers) and “metâ‘ (mal)/kâle (kumaş)” commodity/cloth, is explained in detail by returning to the beginning four times and adding new layers of meaning to the subject each time. Âşık Paşa first focuses on the apparent/overt meanings of these elements, which we find important in terms of shipping history, and then refers to the esoteric/covert/mystical equivalents of each of these elements. In his discussion, he draws on the verse “Do you not see that Allah Almighty has put at your service all the inhabitants of the earth and the ships that glide in the sea in accordance with His command..." (Quran 65:22) and uses a didactic style. This article consists of a total of four sections with an introduction and a conclusion. In the introduction section, a brief review has been made about the Turkish maritime history and the issues related to the sea and the ship in Turkish literature. In the first chapter of the article, its author Âşık Paşa and his work are briefly introduced in order to determine what kind of place Garîb-nâme occupies in this field. In the second section, the eight elements necessary for the ship, which is the tenth story of the eighth chapter of the work, have been tried to be explained in the sub-headings together with their apparent and mystical meanings, based on the words of Âşık Paşa. In the conclusion section, a general evaluation is made on the basis of the information obtained as a result of this study. The aim of this study is to reveal the shipping elements used in Garib-nâme in detail, thus contributing to the maritime history by drawing attention to the reflections of the elements related to the ship on literary and sufi texts as well as on our cultural life.