We all try really hard, but I tell you, I’m sick of hearing this rubbish statistic about eighty per cent of the world’s remaining biodiversity being diligently cared for by Indigenous Peoples. Most of us have only nominal Native Title and no real control, ‘co-managing’ the land at best, in ways that facilitate mining or agricultural interests, whil

Consider the possibility that you’re nothing without your relations. All your kin—human, non-human, plant, animal, place, blood, water—all these familial links contain your thinking and character, the things you have always imagined to be occurring inside your fabulous individual mind. Ponder the notion that there is almost nothing you can learn ab

Maybe we’re so much less complicated (and more complex) than that, us humans. Maybe we just have basic operating protocols hardwiring us to interact with our landscape, to graze on information from our country, language and culture until we grow a relational net that can collectively process complexity, a mind extending beyond the skull as far as o

They don’t get it. The canoe is not a belonging. The belonging is in the relationships that were strengthened in the canoe’s making, and the knowledge processes of a thousand activities that were demonstrated and passed on to the next generation at the same time. As long as the relationships last, the maps and blueprints of the canoe will remain as

You watch for a long time until you definitely know how to do it, then join in. There’s no trial and error here, no ‘learning from mistakes’. A person either knows how to do something or doesn’t, and learns it by listening and looking. The self-other boundary between you-all and the adept carvers is so fluid that you-all are not just observing them

I belong to a culture where everyone is taken care of, and nobody is above anybody else. I’m quite comfortable with my shortcomings and my limited cultural role. I know that no matter what, I will be loved and respected and cared for, and this certainty allows me to meet all of my obligations—even, on occasion, exceed my limits and write something

You are welcome. Even if you’re a toxic, bad-faith, murderous, gaslighting piece of shit, you are needed and you are loved. We’re on flat country here, with no moral high ground to be won. And you won’t have to worry about feeling inadequate in the company of some paragon of ancient wisdom.

My brother says it’s our fault as Indigenous people that the world is dying, because we’ve failed to bring settlers into proper relation. Many of us would hate him for saying this (which is why he doesn’t want to be named here). I don’t much like hearing it myself, because I have historical IOUs I want to cash in pronto now the barman’s calling las

Attachment to a singular narrative is like pinning an insect to a board and measuring it: if you aren’t watching it in flight, you’re missing the point.