Shorna Graham (She/Her) is a Cultural Safety Advisor at Launch Housing and a Ngarrindjeri, Narungga, Narungga, and Kaurna woman.
Seventeen years ago today, then Prime Minister Kevin Rudd delivered the National Apology to the Stolen Generations, acknowledging the profound harm caused by government policies that forcibly removed First Nations children from their families. While this apology was long awaited and a significant historical moment, a step towards reconciliation and truth-telling, it was not the solution: Our communities continue to struggle with the lasting impacts of colonisation and assimilation policies.
A legacy of injustice
The White Australia Policy, designed to entrench racist attitudes and exclude First Nations Peoples from society, remained in place from 1901 until it was officially revoked in 1973, spanning 72 years, or roughly 3 generations. However, advocacy to dismantle this policy began decades earlier, with First Nations Elders and Leaders calling for its removal as early as 1936. It took 37 years of dedicated and relentless advocacy before the government acted.
Alongside the White Australia Policy, the Assimilation Policy sought to erase First Nation identity and culture. Officially defined at the 1961 Native Welfare Conference, it mandated that All Aboriginies and part-Aboriginies are expected to eventually attain the same manner of living as other Australians… observing the same customs and influenced by the same beliefs.”
This policy fueled the systemic removal of First Nations children from their families. It is estimated that during this time up to 1 in 3 First Nations children were taken from their families and communities. However, government intervention predates this policy; the Victorian Aboriginal Protection Act of 1896 already permitted the forced removal of Aboriginal children deemed of “mixed descent” from stations or reserves.
Since the official repeal of these policies in the 1970’s, First Nations Peoples have spent 52 years (two generations) fighting for cultural survival, justice, and healing. Yet, reconciliation continues to remain unfinished business.
The cost of culture?
Recent media scrutiny has focused on government spending on Welcome to Country Ceremonies and Cultural Diversity and Inclusion roles, with claims that funds should instead be directed toward doctors, national security, and intelligence. The headlines have highlighted the $452,953 spend on Welcome to Country Ceremonies over the past two years, suggesting that funding could be better redirected to actually improving the lives of marginalised First Nation Australians.
But what is the cost of erasing culture?
Why Welcome to Country matters
For over 65,000 years, First Nations Peoples have maintained their cultural practices, despite repeated attempts to suppress them. Welcome to Country Ceremonies are more than symbolic; they are acts of cultural survival, resilience, and healing. Some may argue that this was not a customary practice. But who wrote the books defining what was ‘customary’ for First Nations Peoples? Much of our history has been documented through a colonial lens, often erasing the sacred foundation that gives cultural practices meaning, the deeper truth woven into cultural practices, and the adaptability and strength of our cultures. Culture is fluid, as is language, evolving through generations while maintaining its deep roots. These Ceremonies uphold the resilience of Traditional Owners and offer opportunities to build meaningful connections between First Nations and non-Indigenous Australians. Extending this culturally significant gesture is not just recognition of our enduring culture – it is an invitation to walk together in reconciliation.
The money spent on these ceremonies does not disappear. It circulates within First Nation communities, supporting housing, education, health, and economic empowerment. These ceremonies are not a financial burden; they are an investment in reconciliation and community well-being.
The threat to self-determination
Beyond Welcome to Country, the opposition’s proposed cuts to Cultural Diversity and Inclusion roles nationally is a greater threat. These positions, like my own, exist to ensure that First Nations voices are heard in governance, policy, and service delivery.
The justification for these cuts is that “Such positions … do nothing to improve the lives of everyday Australians…They’re certainly not… frontline service roles that can make a difference to people’s lives.”
Consider the undertone of this statement…
Without these roles, who will advocate for our communities? Who will hold the government accountable? Who will hold institutions accountable? Who will fight for First Nation self-determination?
A personal reflection
My mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother were part of the Stolen Generations. Their removal has impacted six generations of my family. The intergenerational trauma of stolen children has disrupted access to housing, health, education, employment, and other opportunities. When my ancestors were taken from their families and placed in orphanages or white homes, they were stripped of the right to learn or practice their language, culture, Lore and histories.
Now, with the proposed cuts, many of us may be forced to compete for jobs in healthcare, national security, or intelligence – fields that require a higher education, which many of our people have historically been denied access to.
This is not equality. This is not equity. This is not justice.
This is continued systemic exclusion.
It is control disguised as fairness.
It is another attempt to erase our voices and our rights.
It is history repeating itself.
It is a failure to honour the commitment to reconciliation.
It is a reminder that equality without equity is just another form of oppression.
Where from here?
Today, as we mark the 17th Anniversary of the National Apology, we must reflect on what true reconciliation looks like. Apologies mean little if they are not followed by action. First Nation communities are still fighting for self-determination, still battling the ongoing impacts of colonisation, and now facing new threats to our cultural and economic survival.
Please know that our First Nation communities may be struggling today, not just from the histories we have endured, but the unknown of our futures.
I will leave you with a poem written by my one of my Nanna’s – Margaret Brusnahan (1935-2018) a strong Ngarrindjeri Kaurna Elder, advocate, and Stolen Generation survivor, who was denied her cultural heritage and relationships with her family, kin, and lands. She wrote this poem in 1981 and her words continue to remind us why this fight continues:
Forgotten
It’s sad when my children want to know
Of Aboriginal legends of long ago,
Of dreamtime stories and corroborees,
Things that should have been taught to me.
How do I tell them that I missed out
Simply by being shuffled about
From one white home to another?
And that’s how nobody came to bother
To tell me that I had a family tree
Or even that I was part Aborigine.
I had to wait until I was grown
To find my people on my own.
It’s impossible to learn in a very short time
The language and culture of these people of mine.
I feel I am selling my own kids short
But how can I teach them what I wasn’t taught?
So have patience my kids, I’m anxious too
To know these things as much as you.
Maybe in time we’ll still this yearning
But remember my kids, I too am still learning.
While I wrote this essay from a First Nations perspective, I also acknowledge that the White Australia Policy impacted many migrant families. My father’s family, Russian migrants from China, also experienced the ongoing impacts of these exclusionary policies firsthand. This history is deeply personal, as both sides of my family have had to fight for recognition, belonging, and justice in this country.
This piece was compiled using the following sources
