Australia was colonised without consent.
The current model makes First Nations people feel scared, marginalised and angry.
Sarah Hopkins and Daniel Daylight
Three years on, and only six months after the below extract was published in my first book, ‘Finding the Heart of the Nation – The Journey of the Uluru Statement towards Voice, Treaty and Truth’, the call to action that came from the unprecedented consensus at Uluru remains vital to reconciliation.
It was the comments on an article about the UK seeking restitution for hardships suffered as a result of Covid-19 that caught my eye – if any country is responsible, and thereby held financially culpable for any impact they had on another country, how far back can we go?
In the early afternoon, 250 years ago to the day – approximately 60km south-east of where I am writing this message on Darug land – James Cook and an entourage from his ship Endeavour stepped onto the land of the Gweagal people.
In these strange and uncertain times with the imminent threat of the COVID-19 pandemic hanging over us all, I wanted to share some ideas on how you can stay engaged with First Nations rights and social justice issues.
I often describe myself as an Aboriginal man who loves being a doctor and working one-on one with patients.
On 12 February 2020, I listened to yet another Prime Minister announce that efforts toward closing the gap on Aboriginal and Torres Strait health were not working. We are still failing. Yet there were glimpses of hope that a ‘circuit breaker’ would bring much needed change.
Aboriginal Australia has a long history. Mind bogglingly long.
The Australian Institute of Health and Welfare (AIHW), the national agency for statistics and information about health and welfare in Australia, recently stated that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people have to wait much longer than non-Indigenous people for elective surgery .
Dr Chris Bourke