As both a Parramatta supporter, and someone who’s worked with indigenous Australians and tries hard to be understanding of the difficulties they face, I’ve been watching the NSW State of Origin race row with interest.
There has been the (unfortunately, expected) response that Tahu should ‘harden up’, ‘get over himself’, ‘stop being so precious’. I wonder how many of those comments were made by white men, who have never and probably will never face any discrimination in their lives.
When I taught up in the Kimberley in the late 1990s, I was in one of the Aboriginal communities. It was a confronting situation, to find yourself in the minority. The way I looked, the way I spoke, the way I considered the world – it didn’t match the dominant culture up there. Now, I was lucky enough that if it became too much for me, I could leave and return to my culture where I could comfortably be myself and nothing would be questioned. However, if you are indigenous, you can’t leave. Men like Timana Tahu, who’s been playing professional football since he was 18 (and in fact played alongside Andrew Johns in one of Newcastle’s premiership sides) face a culture where they’re the different ones every single day. He has said that he’s heard things like this all his career – this time, he couldn’t turn away and ignore it any longer. He gave up one of the most prized jerseys in Australian sport to make this point.
And I say – Timana, well done. Well done from standing up. Well done for bringing this out for debate. Because anyone who thinks it’s all right to call someone a black c*** is wrong.
One of the saddest moments when I was in the Kimberley was having to explain racism to my students. They’d lived all their lives either on the community or within their extended family in Broome. Places they could comfortably be themselves and never be questioned. But one day, they were going to go somewhere, and they were going to be judged on the colour of their skin and the world which seems wide and wonderful when you’re seven, eight, nine, ten, would suddenly become very small. I looked at these kids that I adored – vibrant, full of personality and life – and I knew what the world was going to do to them and it broke my heart.
It’s been twelve years since I left them. One of those beautiful, heart-felt kids had committed suicide. I don’t doubt that others will, or they’ll end up in prison, or addicted to drugs. Their options to escape are limited, because they aren’t accepted in our world, but the world in which they are accepted is crumbling.
We need men and women like Timana Tahu to stand up and say that racism is wrong. No one should be judged for the colour of their skin, or where they were born. No one should have to miss out on education, or health services, or employment because they aren’t white or middle-class.
No one should be at the top of their field, one of the best in the world at what they do, and still not be comfortable in that environment because they’re indigenous. It just shouldn’t happen.