Letters from Down Under: Lessons in stewardship
In her biweekly column, Allie Skalnik brings lessons and stories from her travels abroad in Australia back home.
Dear Stanford,
G’day from the shores of Heron Island on the Great Barrier Reef! Anyone who’s done the BOSP Australia program will tell you it’s intense, fast-paced and you learn a lot. They’ll also probably tell you they saw the most gorgeous, spellbinding sights and made lasting friends. It’s only been two weeks, and I already know I’m going to treasure memories of idyllic sunsets with the sound of raucous volleyball playing in the background, squashing thirty of us in a tiny Thai restaurant and drooling over their delectable pad see-ew.
What they might not mention is how well you learn.
I’ve learned several new words. Bubbler for water fountain, Maccas instead of McDonald’s. To the aboriginal people of Australia, the combination of land and knowledge and family is called Country. Capital C, like a name, like a beloved family member.
When a child would be born, their mothers (plural, because raising a child was a communal effort) would take stock, try to Notice nature. What bird had built its nest right nearby? Which tree was blossoming? Sometimes when they were born and sometimes with a little time to match the disposition of the child to a kangaroo or sea eagle or wallaby, every individual is gifted a Totem. That Totem is not Buzzfeed what-animal-are-you in the slightest. It’s how the indigenous people of Australia managed to keep their use of the land in check. Each person is responsible for the Totem they are given. If your totem is a kangaroo, you cannot wear kangaroo hide or participate in hunting it. Others must instead ask you permission to hunt the kangaroo. If kangaroos are being over hunted at the time, it’s your responsibility to tell the hunters, “No, not this time. Hunt something else.” You are obligated to advocate for your Totem as you would a family member, as you would your dearest kin.
It’s worth mentioning this is a whole lot more complicated than I’m painting it right now, in wide, wide watercolor strokes. It’s only by listening to aboriginal voices for a lot longer than I’ve gotten to so far that a semblance of true understanding can emerge.
Australia is an old continent but a young nation. Containing the oldest rock on Earth at 4.4 billion years old, it claims this accolade due to its sturdiness. Unlike nearly every other landmass, Australia is not volcanically or tectonically active, so that old rock sticks around. The nation, however, is startlingly recent. Founded in 1901, it has yet to accumulate truly old historic buildings, much like in America. In a lot of ways, it feels like a country still getting its sea legs. Like the United States, there’s not a lot of talk about tradition and proper procedure.
On the other hand, it’s striking how quickly the country can change. In a matter of two decades, indigenous people went from not being counted as humans in the national census and hardly taught about in schools to being a major national issue. In 2008, the prime minister formally apologized to the indigenous community for the wrongs the Australian government committed, and politicians now frequently refer to ‘reconciliation’ as something to work towards.
I now have so much random Australia knowledge crammed in my head — odd ends about how their parliament runs and Julia Gillard and this keystone species called a cassowary. I know more about indigenous Australians than people native to North America, and this, truly, glaringly, is something I need to remedy. Learning time and time again how indigenous knowledge in Australia could improve the lives of all Australians if they simply listened to indigenous leaders has me convinced these are the exact same lessons to learn back in the U.S. Slightly shamed by my ignorance but mostly raring to learn, it’s a privilege to be in a place that inspires me to learn more with each passing day. Until next time, Stanford. I’m wishing you sunsets and perfect meals and good company.
All my love,
Allie
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