I know I’m not alone in feeling unsettled as Australia approaches the first anniversary of the unsuccessful referendum on an Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voice to parliament.
Like a lot of other First Nations people and our allies, since 14 October 2023 I have tried not to overthink the overwhelming no vote, instead focusing on ways to deal with the still fresh and profound grief ossifying within me.
It was important for the whole nation to sit for a while with what happened and for mob especially not to drift automatically to “we’re fine; nothing can hurt us”. It did hurt – a lot – and it continues to hurt as some no proponents try to cancel all things First Nations.
Maybe we will never get a firm handle on the exact recipe for the dish served to the nation near 12 months ago. But its base was undoubtedly the early withdrawal of once-prized political bipartisanship. This was blended with low civics awareness and understandable cost-of-living anxiety, and then oversalted with various kinds of mischief – lies, fearmongering and racism.
While things still seem grim at times, I personally have entered what I am calling my BGOWT, or Best Get On With Things (that matter) phase.
I was helped recently by rereading a tweet I posted in the hours before the polls closed on referendum day – a photo montage of my cherished Yuwaalaraay ancestors, late mum, grandson, and completed yes ballot paper, accompanied by the words: “My yes vote and my reasons why. Irrespective of the referendum result, we will be as dignified, courageous and staunch tomorrow as today. Love my people, friends and allies.”
And it struck me that nothing I said then was any less true now. That I still could not be prouder of my community and kin or more heartened by those who stand resolutely beside us. And that the reforms sought and aspirations expressed in the 2017 Uluru statement from the heart remain as considered, vital and urgent as ever.
The invitation still stands for everyday Australians to walk with First Nations people towards a better future, supporting our rights to a real say about the policies and practices that impact on us through voice – albeit not a constitutionally enshrined one any time soon – as well as treaty and truth.
Well before the referendum, critics of reconciliation argued that the process lets the Australian state off the hook and in the wake of last year’s ballot, some immediately declared reconciliation was “dead”.
That the reconciliation process, started in 1991, has been imperfect is not a toss I would even begin to argue. But to me, that is not something to be in denial about or a reason to abandon the journey we have begun. Rather, the referendum and all it entailed demands gutsy, pragmatic and continual review of the reconciliation movement and greater effort to improve and bolster it.
And I am dead certain that the yes vote count would have been a mere fraction of the 6,286,894 (or 39.94%) officially recorded, had it not been for decades of dedicated efforts by Reconciliation Australia (and its predecessor, the Council for Aboriginal Reconciliation), the various state and territory bodies, the more than 2,500 schools and early learning services with a Narragunnawali Reconciliation Action Plan (RAP) and the more than 3,200 other RAP organisations.
Add those yes voters (including 60,000 campaign volunteers) to no voters genuinely supportive of First Nations’ advancement but not persuaded on the referendum proposal, and you have some mighty potential.
To me at least it is enough to crack on with. And that is what I will do, together with fellow travellers, all the while trying not to sweat the small stuff and to recognise any nefarious efforts to distract from the main game.
Reconciliation should be a non-partisan “people’s movement” founded upon respect for First Nations rights – starting with self-determination underpinned by meaningful structural reform. Quite simply, First Nations policy not informed by mob – and any solution not led by mob – is just a failed experiment in waiting. We should get comfortable with feeling uncomfortable, while putting the pedal to the metal on justice, anti-racism and truth-telling.
The tweet I mentioned earlier also got me thinking about “heart”, so often invoked during the referendum campaign.
I read somewhere that the human heart is made up of the body’s strongest muscles – ones with special cells much more resistant to fatigue than others. This sat well with me because I reckon even if we are less trusting, more guarded and wearier than before the referendum, First Nations people and our allies have plenty of heart.
Our shared reconciliation journey will continue to be fraught, messy and imperfect. But it is a virtuous quest, and on occasions throughout, it will swell our tender hearts fit to burst. Albeit with some trepidation, I am here for that.
Have a thoughtful anniversary, Australia.
• Yuwaalaraay woman Kirstie Parker is a non-executive director of Reconciliation Australia. She is a signatory to the Uluru statement from the heart and advised the Uluru Dialogue in the lead-up to the voice referendum
