I’m a Gunditjmara woman and the cofounder of Clothing The Gaps, a Victorian Aboriginal social enterprise. I spearheaded the #FreeTheFlag campaign after we received a cease and desist notice for using Aboriginal flags on our clothes. After two and half years of community support, we finally freed the flag and put it back in the public domain where it belonged.
With this background in advocacy, you may be surprised to hear that I’ve never been doorknocking before. But last weekend I decided to get out of my comfort zone and give it a go and I urge you to do the same.
I’m not a big fan of confrontation. I’ve always favoured respectful dialogue and a well thought-out social media post or blog, and I assumed doorknocking would mean butting heads with people who aggressively shared different values. I decided to give it a go anyway. A referendum on an Indigenous voice to parliament was too important to lose.
On Sunday, I drove out to Fawkner, an area in Melbourne that the yes campaign said needed attention. In the safety of my inner-north Melbourne “Brunswick bubble” I’m usually quite comfortable in my red, black and yellow Aboriginal slogan T-shirt and my trusty fluoro crocs. Today, I felt the need to impress, I didn’t want to put anyone off with my political fashion. So, I levelled up with a smart lime-green blazer, my white ‘History is calling’ T-shirt and woven Aboriginal earrings.
My anxiety about what to wear was fuelled by what I didn’t know would greet me when I knocked on an unknown door. I also knew, in these conversations, my identity would be judged more than ever.
Fawkner is a suburb I haven’t spent much time in. My trips there have mainly consisted of visits to the cemetery, a morbid reality for many in the Victorian Aboriginal community.
The local shops were unexpectedly delightful. There was a cute florist and the local cafe had a mural painted with flags from all around the world. This included the Aboriginal flag – the same flag I fought tirelessly and successfully to “free”. Fawkner suddenly felt safer.
You couldn’t miss the group of yes volunteers at the park in all their yes paraphernalia and we gathered in a circle before we began doorknocking. We heard from elected representative of the First Peoples Assembly of Victoria – the voice for Treaty in Victoria – about why they were there and their personal reasons for backing a yes vote.
We then partnered off, one person who had experience doorknocking paired with one of us newbies. The yes campaign provided maps, materials and scripts so we knew how to answer any curly questions that came our way.
We had our scripts. We had our buddies beside us. I took a moment to complete my outfit with a yes badge. Our armour was on and we were ready to go.
What I encountered was better than I could have imagined. It was definitely not as scary as I thought, and people approached our conversation with curiosity and respect.
We spoke to a man who didn’t know the referendum was even happening. This man had a vast understanding of Indigenous rights, particularly international Indigenous rights focusing on climate change.
He said he would be voting yes and sent us on our way with cups of delicious lentil soup. This interaction nearly moved me to tears. We had uncovered a human gem – who will no doubt go on to influence his friends and family to vote yes too.
We doorknocked a share house; they answered the door bleary-eyed and hungover from the night before. They assured us they were voting yes and we left them to rehydrate and eat something greasy.
We came across a strong no voter. His opposition came from his distrust of politicians and the idea that there were already First Nations politicians in Canberra.
We explained those politicians were there to represent their political parties, their constituents and not their Aboriginal community. He ended up taking a yes pamphlet from us and I thanked him for having the conversation. I knew we gave him a different perspective to consider. It was a fascinating interaction because I would usually never talk to someone who shared polar opposite views to myself. One thing is certain, this man softened in his short interaction with us and dare I say, I think he liked us! My buddy explained to me that no matter what you must leave every house with a positive impression. So, if someone does slam the door in your face you reply: “Thanks. Have a lovely day”.
A lovely Nepali man we spoke to said he would vote yes to support our country because he knew we would support his. We gave him a pamphlet and told him where to get further information in Nepali. He then had to take his children to taekwondo training, where he would see his good friend who was also voting yes.
A jet-lagged woman who had just returned from overseas answered the door and said she was likely to vote no because she had heard the voice would have veto power. We explained this wasn’t the case and I believe we swung her around to yes.
These interactions show the power of conversation, whether it was alerting people to the referendum happening, directing someone to where they could get information in a language other than English, clarifying mistruths or just simply giving another perspective. It was a couple of hours well spent.
What’s abundantly clear is that, for this referendum to succeed, we need to face our fears and have those tough and uncomfortable conversations.
Every conversation and impression right now really does count.
Laura Thompson is a cofounder of Clothing The Gaps, a Victorian Aboriginal social enterprise
