Reconciling Fairness in Cultural Dispossession
This poem was written after I wrote a paper and presented it in Bangkok. I was on the Rotary Peace and Conflict Studies Program. Each participant was asked to write a paper on their own country. When I researched aboriginal issues I found there was so much I didn’t realise. Such is the veil of ignorance cast over many Australian’s eyes. Overtime I became increasingly awake to the hidden oppression of indigenous people and their own floundering between two cultures. Yet I remain optimistic that they will return to their own way, I see them as the wedgetail eagle soaring overhead. Australian people (european) are also incredible people and there are many champions for the indigenous cause. Increasingly they are awakening. For most Australians are not racist, there are a few on both sides that are, but they are the minority.
This poem was written in response to former Prime Minister Kevin Rudd apologising to the indigenous people, a significant moment in Australian history. I watched the indigenous people crying, it was so touching as finally they felt heard. They speak of listening deeply in their culture, it is a wise saying. They have much to teach us yet we barely know them. I am proud to share this country with such an incredible people, the oldest civilisation on this planet.
We will indeed hear the sound of two hands clapping as we reconcile truth from fiction in all camps around the fire of truth.
TWO HANDS CLAPPING
What are the sounds of one hand clapping,
…silence,
What fairness is in cultural dispossession?
What is the anguish of familial separation?
Yet when we reach out to offer a hand,
Not a hand out,
But as the hand of equality,
The hand of friendship,
All I can hear is the sound of endless
Applause,
As that is the sound of two hands clapping,
Ah the truth at last,
For the silence and bigotry of denial,
Belongs in a past that was colour blind
…To justice,
…To difference,
…To spirituality,
Which whispered in the wind of ghost gums,
Which murmured in the stream of water spirits,
Which called upon ancient ancestral spirits,
For are dreamtime stories fact or fiction?
The past, present and future do not exist for a mystical people,
Identifying the trees, wildlife, rocks and streams as kin,
For them separation is a European notion,
A poisonous potion,
That destroys family and the heart of the land.
For those who know oneness,
Can see no differences,
They simply adapt to their environment,
For they know no resistance,
For resistance is the colour of fear,
Which is blind to truth.
The ‘Sorry’ State of unacknowledged affairs,
Paved a new treaty,
And whilst the message shares sorrow
For the stolen generation,
It is a start,
For reparations are the healing of many nations,
A cost that cannot be calculated in dollars,
But can be repaired with common sense,
For empathy was the compensation they were seeking.
To embrace around a sacred fire,
Sheds light on the darkness,
For the first step of reconciliation has been taken,
There can be no backward glance,
For we will all move forward as a nation.
This is the Australia of my heart,
One of sincerity, compassion, integrity and honour,
For the truth sets us free,
To be one nation under the stars
Of the Southern Cross,
Which combines the aboriginal flag
A new flag symbolizing the earth, the sky and the sun,
Rising with the dawn of a real peace treaty.
And this is the sound of many hands clapping around the world,
For when we join hands we transform together,
Finally we understand the weather,
That we are all brothers and sisters,
Under the sun of new horizons.
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