REGULARS

I have always been a voracious reader who demolishes a book in hours, chowing down on exciting plots, complex characters, and political and social intrigue like it is my last meal. For years, reading was what I did instead of playing with other kids at school, going out, or doing work. I suspect that my introversion and lack of social life has created the ideal conditions for my reading habits.

I recall being on a trip with some friends to Nepal. We were trekking the Annapurna circuit in 2015, and I was 14.

“How many books have you ever read?” asked one girl. “I’m not sure,” I replied… because I was unsure. “Guess… like a thousand? Wait, OMG, have you read a million?” she queried. “I’m not sure,” I repeated, and then I continued reading.

I did not stay in touch with any friends from that trip. I was too busy reading in seclusion and then thinking about what I was reading while walking to talk to them. I managed to knock off the Entire Game of Thrones series on that trip, which is something I remain proud of to this day.

In 2018, I sort of just… stopped reading. I did not pick up a book unless it was for my school English classes, and even then, I just went on Schmoop and read their notes instead of the actual copy I had. I was dealing with a huge depressive period in my life and spent most of my spare time crying or eating.

Then, in 2020, a little thing called COVID happened. Suddenly I had all the time in the world to read. But unfortunately, living through a pandemic is not conducive to good mental health.

In 2021, I weakly attempted to make rereading a hobby. I reopened my untouched Goodreads account, and I was bombarded with the progress of my friends on the platform. So many new books had come out! I felt like I had missed out on so much and would never be able to catch up. I tried and failed to reignite my passion for literature repeatedly. Picking up random books in my family’s Kindle library, I found I could not focus, and the entire time I tried to read, I was just watching the percentage at the bottom of the page, which tells you your progress.

I also realised that when I wasn’t reading, I had nothing; no hobbies that marked me out as unique or quirky. As a teenager, this realisation would have been devastating for me. But now, as an adult, I wondered if I should accept that I had somehow lost the love of reading I used to have. This may sound dramatic, but as a big overthinker, reading has always provided me with an escape from my life. I suspect I enjoy reading so much because I feel my life is so dull that I would rather jump into someone else’s and step into their skin for a day.

Reading over what I have written, I will accept that I am melodramatic, but I believe Lorde and Lana Del Rey are the culprits for this, not my capricious mental health.

However, despite the background noise (university being online, crippling anxiety, being bad at netball, a pandemic, and a close friend dying), I found 2020 and 2021 were the happiest times of my life. I became fitter than ever because I had nothing to do, and I learned to be alone with myself and how to live with my brain. Then I discovered a genre called Afrofuturism , and I devoured it like a starving person. I read all of Octavia Butler’s works and found that this genre and other sci-fi novels gave me the new and exciting content

I needed to relaunch myself into the literary world. It made me realise how much was out there, and I now viewed reading books, not as some race where I had to get through them ASAP, but as a boundless journey where there was so much about the world for me to uncover and I had the rest of myself to do that.

So, I began 2022 with a goal in mind. I felt refreshed and revived by my sudden weird turnaround. I was going to do the Goodreads yearly reading challenge. For the uninitiated, this is a challenge I have wanted to do because it would make me feel accomplished and boost my self-esteem, where you read 52 books a year (about once a week). I charged ye olde trusty Kindle and then proceeded… not to read.

I failed the challenge in January, which was impressive because it usually takes me longer to give up on things. Luckily, I bounced back in February and read feverishly. At the time, I was dogsitting in a nice house by myself (aside from the dog, of course), and it was the university holidays. I was happy and felt very young and successful, sunbathing by the pool and reading because I had so much free time. I felt like a lady of leisure; I wore linen sets and roleplayed being a real adult. It was good. Once university started, I realised I needed to up my game, so I started taking my Kindle to uni with me, and now I was cosplaying being the mysterious girl who sits in the cafe talking to no one, reading for hours. I also discovered that reading right before bed helps me fall asleep. I just sort of pass out. That’s been great. If you have read my previous challenges, you would know that I love to sleep and optimise sleep. I generally like efficiency and optimising all parts of my life to live with as much ease and organisation as possible. My psychiatrist says it’s my obsessive-compulsive disorder, but I think I am just a Gemini and in my hot girl season.

I am thrilled to say that I am currently (at the end of March) up to reading my 18th book of the year. I have been reading and reading and reading. I have embraced this genre of book I saw someone refer to as She is Not Feeling Good, which is essentially just literature chronicling the lives and psychological states of crazy ladies. I love this and relate to these characters a concerning amount. My favourite book this year has been Boy Parts by Eliza Clark, and I cannot believe it is her debut novel. I even want to buy a paperback (I only purchase paperbacks if a book is life-changing) to go through and annotate all the great lines in it.

Note: I was raised in a Kindle family - as much as we all hate Jeff Bezos, it is important to note that Kindles and Amazon’s Audible App have made literature accessible to a much broader audience than if we still relied only on paperbacks today. As I write this, I am reading Where the Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens, a book that retails for $22 at Dymocks and $14 on Kindle. My pro tip is that if you choose to read classics or older books, they will often be available at a very low price. Virginia Woolf’s Orlando is $18 at Dymocks and just $3 on Kindle. If you read a lot, you will benefit from using Kindle because these prices add up when you are literally always reading.

by Eleanor Taylor

Bringing reading back into my life and incorporating as much or as little as I have time for each day has given me a peaceful little corner of the world I can recede into as long as I have my trusty Kindle. When life is very chaotic with a constant influx of bad news and international disasters, reading provides a space away from all that, where I can unwind. I think that everyone needs an activity like that in their lives.

POP CULTURE REWIND An Ode To MAMMA MIA!

Let’s have a little rewind...

It’s July 2008 and the star-studded film version of the Mamma Mia! has just been released in Australian cinemas! Filled with an all-rounder Hollywood cast, a full soundtrack of ABBA hits, and the most luscious backdrop of Greece – it is simply impossible to hate on this movie.

Let’s dive right into the clear waters of Kalokairi!

Unless you’ve been living under a rock for the past decade or so, it’s highly unlikely you’re not familiar with the global success story that is Mamma Mia! The ultimate comfort film for teenage girls and their mothers all around the world.

As Charlotte Northedge and Kira Cochrane from the Guardian have stated: “The musical about a single mother, her daughter, and three possible dads invited by the daughter to her wedding – has become a success beyond all comprehension.”

The film follows the young and spirited bride-to-be Sophie (Amanda Seyfried) on a journey to find her real father so he can give her away to her groom. The sunny atmosphere of a beach holiday on a Greek island sounds like a dream summer destination.

As director Catherine Johnson got to grips with the screenplay, the production team began considering who might be the right actors for the film version, especially for the main mother-figure role of Donna. In January 2007 it was announced that none other than Meryl Streep – one of the most famous and well-respected American actresses of the past three decades! – had signed on to play the lead role of Donna. When Streep was asked if she’d like to appear in the movie version, her reply was daring and definitely relieved the production team: “Are you kidding? I AM Mamma Mia!”

With Meryl Streep on board, there were no issues in attracting a stellar cast for all the main characters. Soon after it was announced that Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth and Stellan Skarsgård would play the three possible dads. With Julie Walters and Christine Baranski as the parts of Donna’s friends and Amanda Seyfried landing the part as Sophie, Donna’s daughter – it was evident this movie was going to be an ode to mother-daughter relationships.

One of the main reasons Mamma Mia! has that slice of 70’s love and authenticity is the role Björn Kristian Ulvaeus played in the film. As a member of the musical group ABBA, and co-composer/ co-producer of the film, Björn ensured that only perfection was placed into the renewal of his band’s original songs. Commenting about his time creating the film and working with Meryl Streep, Björn stated in an interview, “She gives those words a meaning that I never could have hoped for.” With the assistance of Benny Andersson (another member of ABBA) – there is no need to worry about the essence of the Swedish pop band we all love.

One significant element of the film is the creation of the female gaze – its audience clearly made for women. The sexual liberation embedded into each character is executed to perfection, whilst also dismissing the Hollywood trope of sexualising young women. A clear example is the young female character, played by Amada Seyfried, wearing a onepiece swimsuit throughout the film – truly reflecting a young woman on the beach in Greece accompanied by her family and friends. As author Naomi Alderman says “‘You don’t have to be young and sweet and 17”. In fact, a notable feature in this film is the way the men are presented in a sexualised way.

It was insightful to see the pan of male critics when looking at this film. It could just be a lack of exposure towards the female gaze. Instead of the 20year old female character as Pierce Brosnan’s love interest, there is more of a father-daughter relationship between them. When you know that’s not going to happen, you relax.

It’s a film of hope, the possibilities of a good life as a woman – instead of a picture perfect expectation of escapism and fantasy. The silly storyline and dialogue just add to the heart of the film – appealing to the true female gaze.

So how does this jukebox musical relate to the issue; M is for Mother?

There is more than meets the eye with this film. When truly dissecting it, as a film studies student inevitably does… every time I see this movie, there is something new to uncover. A recent discovery of mine is the true essence of that mother-daughter relationship.

The exploration of single mothers’ relationships with their only daughter is such a niche and gorgeous trope. Mamma Mia! perfectly encapsulates the middle-class relationship where the daughter is the pinnacle of the mother’s achievements. It was done in such a way that it became the inner core of the movie - without taking away its colourful and kindred nature.

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture And save it from the funny tricks of time Slipping through my fingers.

The ‘Slipping Through My Fingers’ scene is the pinnacle moment of the film that really resonates with the mother-daughter trope. It is definitely the moment that pinches the heartstrings of my mother and I, trying to grasp all the time we will never have again. The intimacy and raw relationship with Donna (Meryl Streep) and Sophie (Amanda Seyfried) in the reflection of the mirror is showcased with such an immense longing and regret. Definitely a moment that mothers and daughters all around the world can connect with.

So here is my ode to Mamma Mia!, a transformative, wacky, comfort film. It does everything right for me! Everytime I have that particular twinkle in my eye, everyone around me goes… “she watched it… again?”. The gorgeous all-rounder Hollywood cast, a full ABBA soundtrack, and the aesthetic backdrop of Greece creates such an immense longing and ping of hope – that in the future that will be a summer of mine. It pings all of my heartstrings and has me belting the lyrics from start to finish. The feel-good jukebox musical leaves my heart warm and my smile beaming – who just doesn’t love drunkenly singing ABBA songs with your close family and friends on a Greek island?

by Lauren Knezevic

ILLUSTRATED

Four Mother Goddesses and Their Stories

‘Mother’ is not just a societal role, it can be a spiritual state of being — to nurture, care, and create. Mother goddesses come in a variety of forms, including goddesses who give birth to other gods, archetypal mother figures, and those who help bring humanity into existence. By looking at mother goddesses, we can think about what it means to embody motherhood.

Note: a lot of mythological stories are born from contexts different to our own, using meanings we may not directly understand. Some of the themes and symbols these goddesses relate to may not make sense to us but made sense to the cultures from which they were born.

WICCAN TRIPLE GODDESS

During the neo-pagan revival of the 1960s and 70s, a feminist take on ancient pre-Christian European spirituality emerged in the form of Wicca. At its core, Wicca has spiritual reverence for nature, magical practice, and worship of a goddess. Wicca is not an institutionalised religion, so its practice is as varied and eclectic as the adherents themselves.

However, many Wiccans incorporate the triple goddess to their practice. The triple goddess consists of three archetypal figures: maiden, mother, and crone. The threefold nature of the goddess reflects the human cycle of birth, maturation, and death. Each stage of this journey brings its own gifts. In our youth we see the world through fresh eyes and explore the world for the first time. In adulthood, we have the resources to give back to others and build our familial networks. In old age, we have the collected wisdom of all our years and can enjoy those familial networks we built earlier on. The triple goddess can teach us respect for ourselves and others throughout all our life stages.

GAIA

The following information comes from Hesiod’s Theogony. In this poem, which is the earliest known account of core Greek myths, Gaia is the defied personification of the Earth itself. As such, she is often depicted as the head and torso of a woman emerging from the earth. She is one of the primordial gods of the Greek pantheon, there at the genesis of the world. The universe before creation in Greek mythology was called ‘Chaos,’ a disordered nothingness. Gaia was the first God to emerge from Chaos. She created the sky, mountains, and sea.

She gave birth to a variety of characters in Greek mythology, but what is most notable is how she conceived them. In Hesiod’s poem, Gaia contrives to have her son, Chronos, castrate her husband Ouranos in revenge for mistreatment of some of their children. The blood from the injury falls to the earth, and, as Gaia is the earth itself, she uses the blood to give birth to the Furies — goddesses of vengeance. Symbolism much?! Even though Gaia and her stories are mythical, knowing them serves as a useful reminder to be considerate of what we put on the earth. Our earth and atmosphere are the source of all known life. If we’re not careful about what we put onto the earth, it may send back haunting consequences.

CYBELE

Phrygia was an ancient district of the Anatolian subcontinent existing between the 12th and 7th centuries BCE. Cybele was a prominent mother goddess figure in the Phrygian pantheon. She ruled over the wilderness, was a healer, promoted fertility, and protected people in times of war. Her power over nature is symbolised by the lions that often accompany her in imagery.

As a nature and creation goddess, she is linked to cycles of birth and decay mirrored by the seasons in the natural world. We see this link in the myth of Cybele and Attis, which details the emergence of Attis as a vegetation God. This story takes many forms, but in Ovid’s account, Attis was a shepherd Cybele fell in love with. She brought him into her clergy on the condition he preserved his chastity. He agreed but broke his word by sleeping with a nymph. In a state of frenzied fury, she threw him into a river. Attis castrated himself in his own fit of rage and began to make attempts on his life. To prevent him killing himself, Cybele turned him into a fir tree.

There are many strong and violent emotions at play in this myth, but it should remind us about how powerful emotions can be transformed into something new. In this myth, the decay of anguish and anger was turned into a new chance, an opportunity to regenerate as something new.

Artwork by Thalia Took

Ninhursag is one of the incarnations of the mother goddess archetype in the Sumerian pantheon. She was valued for her connection to transformation, nature, pregnancy, and childbirth. In her earlier forms, she was also called Kishar, which directly translates to ‘mother earth’, suggesting she played a significant mythological role in the creation of the world. In artistic representation, she is depicted symbolically as a deer, often alongside an eagle which symbolises her son, Ninurta. Like other goddesses on this list, her myths foreground creation as a transformative experience. One myth describes how, after the gods’ task of creating the world was complete, Ninhursag and Enki (the god of wisdom) fall in love and Ninhursag becomes pregnant.iv Ninhursag leaves Enki with their daughter, Ninsar, when she must return to her duties. In Ninhursag’s absence, Enki misses Ninhursag greatly and becomes deluded with grief. He mistakes his daughter for Ninhursag and entices her into having sex with him. Enki abandons his daughter when he realizes she’s not his beloved Ninhursag. He does the same to Ninsar’s daughter, Ninkurra, and almost does the same to Uttu, his daughter with Ninkurra. Instead of having his child, the distressed Uttu calls on Ninhursag for help. Ninhursag instructs Uttu to take Enki’s semen and put it in the dirt of Dilmun (the Edentype Paradise of Sumerian mythology). The semen becomes eight plants, which Enki and his advisor eat as they’re delicious. Ninhursag becomes enraged and curses him to die. But when she sees him sick and dying, she draws his illness and pain into her body. Each time she takes on his pain, she gives birth to a new deity.

NINHURSAG

by Isabella Trope

I DON’T GET IT

THE CRUNCHY MUM MOVEMENTS TW: THIS ARTICLE DISCUSSES MEDICAL TRAUMA.

Eleanor Taylor, Grapeshot’s resident childless crunchy mom explores the bizarre movement whose rapid growth has been facilitated by Tiktok.

TIKTOK DOING ITS THANG

There I was, minding my own business on the Tiktok explore page, being hand-fed tantalizing tidbits of information about other people’s lives when I came across #CrunchyMom. The first post under this hashtag I saw was from a user named @LifeofFern. In the video, a 10-monthold named Fern was eating rocks and soil from a creek. This was very strange, and I absolutely fell down a rabbit hole discovering that this account was populated with videos of Fern eating leaves and rocks, being a vegan baby and also co-sleeping with his mother, Alice. This entertained me for a few minutes and then I got bored and returned to the explore page. Alice and Fern are now infamous on Tiktok. It is amazing to me that a baby can be famous, but Fern has done it. What I did not know was that Alice would go viral and that thousands of people would duet her videos calling her a “crunchy child abuser”, someone who must hate her son.

Alice does not adhere to conventional parenting wisdom. She co-sleeps with Fern and doesn’t follow a regular sleeping pattern with him, she does not vaccinate him, and she is a free birther. This just means she believes in homebirths (Alice gave birth to Fern on a toilet) and is anti-medicine, because doctors lie to women. The thing is, Alice is not alone. She is a #CrunchyMom and just one of many women online sharing their journeys as anti-establishment (normally stay at home) mothers. I want to explore why this movement has taken off, and what it means for women in the 21st century.

What Maketh the Mom “Crunchy”?

The best definition I could find for Crunchy Mom was from an article called Why I’m a Proud Scrunchie Mom which I found on The House and Homestead website where the author lays out the parameters for crunchy parenting as follows:

“The definition of a “crunchy mom” is a mom who practices natural parenting or, as defined by one website, a “neo-hippie.” So basically if you are a crunchy mom, you typically give birth at home (or in a meadow or river or something), cloth-diaper your babes, prepare all your own organic baby foods, co-sleep, breastfeed exclusively (no bottles or formula), believe in baby-led weaning and are anti-vaccinations.”

Why are these women called “crunchy”? I actually made a guess that it was because granola crunches and granola has natural organic connotations. But through some googling, I also discovered that “granola” is slang for “hippy”.

Luckily, Anna, who wrote Why I’m a Proud Scrunchie Mom has some extra information. The opposite of a Crunchy Mom is the “Silky Mom”. She is described as follows;

“A silky mom is a mom who gives birth in the sterile hospital environment, uses disposable diapers and may breastfeed but also bottle feeds and maybe formula feeds too. She buys baby food from the store, uses a stroller rather than a baby-wearing device, vaccinates her kiddos and banishes them to a crib where they may even be left to cry it out until they finally give up and fall asleep.”

Mothers in the middle are called “Scrunchie Moms”m which has recently become a new trend on Tiktok, a response to Crunchy Moms which reveals that it’s possible to be earthy and granola munching AND scientific. The other term I see used for these mothers is Crispy.

WHY?

A big part of the “Crunchy” philosophy is that medicine ignores women and their concerns for the sake of efficiency. Women such as Alice have experienced trauma in medical settings which has forced them to re-evaluate their understanding of the medical system. For example, Alice (the mother of Fern) claims the death of her first child was due to medical interventions to which she did not give informed consent. And she is not the only person to experience medical trauma from giving birth.

Unfortunately, in medical contexts, the overriding of consent has been normalised. This can be seen in episiotomies in Australia. Baby Center says “An episiotomy is a small cut made in the skin and muscle from the entrance of the vagina towards the back passage. This area is called your perineum”. They also note that episiotomies should only occur when absolutely necessary, generally if a baby is distressed and the birthing process needs to be sped up.

In Australia, 16% of women have episiotomies, and in private hospitals sometimes it can be up to 26%. In the 1980s, up to 90% of women had this procedure completed.

Through my own conversations with the women around me, I have heard the same story multiple times and it goes like this… “I was in labor and so focused on giving birth that I did not even know the doctor had completed an episiotomy until I felt stitches afterwards”. This is a surgery being completed on someone who has not consented. Take a moment to consider the significance of that. One Queensland study found that 35% of women were given episiotomies without being informed. That medical professionals can routinely violate an individual’s bodily autonomy when they are at their most vulnerable is disgusting.

In an article from the Sydney Morning Herald, some women experience Post Traumatic Stress Disorder due to their “[l]ack of adequate consent and understanding about birth-related procedures”. In one account, a nurse recalls an incident where a woman in labour was sedated because she objected to her doctor’s actions. She goes on to say, “I’ve witnessed some births that haunt me.”

There are absolutely scenarios when women are in danger and procedures are essential. In one account, the reason provided for an episiotomy is that the mother was “taking too long”. Other examples of women being ignored include the standardisation of giving birth on your back which is done for the convenience of medical caregivers rather than for the comfort of the mother. Alternative positions make birth less painful and in some cases reduce complications (which in turn reduces medical interventions). One factor of this is the use of epidurals which prevent women from moving so they cannot switch positions. This again increases the reliance on doctors and nurses.

In this context, and having experienced this, how would you be able to continue trusting the medical/scientific communities? Crunchy Moms are onto something when they discuss informed consent and its absence in the birthing process. I have sympathy for women like Alice who have been failed by the institutions they were raised to trust. And I feel sympathy for them when the internet cyberbullies the shit out of them for it. Yes, the Crunchy Mom vaccine misinformation is atrocious and upsetting, but abusing someone on the internet will not make them agree with you.

Once you begin consuming information from fringe sources, social media and search engine algorithms will provide you with information from even more fringe sources, facilitating your radicalisation. That’s how someone can begin with “women should be allowed to reject to surgeries” and then end up in a weird spot where they think microwaves and deodorants cause cancer and that “the fluoride in the water is part of a massive doping scheme by the government”.

Conclusion

It is objectively funny that some people think allowing their kids to eat rocks will make them genius babies with super immune systems. But I also think we need to acknowledge the tragic realities that women contend with, especially regarding medicine. #CrunchyMoms do not exist in a vacuum; they have been created by a misogynistic society that has refused to hear their concerns. The more medical institutions marginalise women and their valid worries surrounding healthcare and childbirth, the more women will unnecessarily suffer and the more likely women will be vulnerable to harmful misinformation.

by Eleanor Taylor

Prior to colonisation, the Gadigal people of the Eora Nation lived in Pirrama, known today as Pyrmont. While many indigenous sites were destroyed by the development of quarries and factories, researchers understand that the land was carefully managed, and the Eora people relied heavily on the abundant fish and seafood available in the harbour. The Eora people lived in Pirrama up until the 1870s, when they were displaced by European colonisers. By this time, due to the introduction of colonists’ livestock and windmill traffic, the previously well-managed soil became compacted, turning Pirrama into a swamp. While Pirrama was later renamed to Pyrmont, remnants of its indigenous roots remain, such as the naming of Pirrama Park and Pirrama Road.

Over time, Pyrmont became home to a working-class community. There were many quarries in the area due to the high quality sandstone, which was used in the construction of Sydney’s most significant buildings. CSR Pty Ltd opened a major sugar refinery in Pyrmont in 1900, followed by the construction of Pyrmont Power Station in 1904. The station was driven by steam, and was responsible for powering Sydney’s first electric street lights. At its peak, Pyrmont was home to around 30 000 workers and their families. However, after World War II, many industries closed down, leading to its residents moving to the suburbs. By 1978, Pyrmont was considered a slum with a population of only 1 800. In the 1990s, the government initiated the Better Cities Program, whose mission was to facilitate the urban renewal and development of Pyrmont. Through the investment in public infrastructure, Pyrmont once again became an attractive suburb to live in.

Today, Australia’s most densely populated suburb rests two kilometres west of Sydney’s central business district. I am one of the 12 000 people that call Pyrmont home. I moved to Pyrmont in July 2020, right before Sydney entered another lockdown. Instead of familiarising myself with Pyrmont’s bar and restaurant scene, I discovered Pyrmont on foot through my daily walks to escape the boredom of lockdown.

I grew up in Chatswood, which borders Lane Cove National Park, and was used to having a nearby wilderness that offered an easy escape from everyday life. It was definitely a difficult transition to move from having the wilderness at my doorstep to living in the centre of a concrete jungle. However, through my many explorations of the suburb, I have begun to appreciate its eclectic mixture of historical and modern developments. For example, Pyrmont Power Station’s façade remains, and sits on the west side of the Star Casino. Across from it rests the site of Sydney’s first presbyterian church, neighboured by small historical cottages. A walk five minutes east and you hit the water – with views across Darling Harbour to the bustling central business district. I love living in a suburb where, in as little as ten minutes, there is such a wide variety of architecture and history to appreciate. On the face of it, such contrasting features may not work together. However, in Pyrmont (don’t ask me why), it just works.

There are definitely drawbacks to this neighbourhood. The footpaths often smell of piss, and I’m pretty sure there are regular drug deals taking place at the underpass across from my apartment. However, these features don’t bother as much as they did six months ago. Is this the test for whether someone is an official Pyrmontian?

by Amelia Taylor

YOU ARE HERE PYRMONT

Nouveau Pyrmontian, Amelia unpacks some of the history of Pyrmont and provides a glimpse into life in the Darling Harbour region.

‘M’ IS FOR... ‘MATRIARCH’

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers are advised that the following article contains information about people who have died

. TW: This article mentions sexual and physical abuse against Aboriginal women in paragraph 5.

Couldn’t care less ‘bout the monarch Ima set fire to the kingdom I’m coming for them All hail to blak matriarchs Barkaa (Malyangapa and Barkindji artist), Blak Matriarchy

This issue is all about Mums and is a homage to them. But, I’m going to change ‘M is for Mom’ to ‘M is for Matriarch’, because, without my matriarchs, I wouldn’t be the strong and proud Gamilaraay woman I am today. I wouldn’t be walking this planet, or maybe I should say I wouldn’t be walking on Aboriginal land as a proud Aboriginal woman without their continuous fight and commitment. I’m writing to pay homage to the reason behind my presence in this world. I’m not just speaking about my physical presence; I’m also speaking of my spiritual presence, particularly my connection to Country and culture. Physically, my presence in this world involves activism, fighting for change, learning and helping others. My spiritual presence involves my connectedness to culture, Country and ancestors. As I said before, the reason for my presence in this world is my matriarchs. To pay homage, I will take you on a journey of truth-telling; a truth-telling that involves and sheds light on the dark version of our nation’s history. The version that the settler-colonial Government wants to hide, dismiss, and whitewash. So, here is the story of one of my matriarchs.

The story of my great-great Grandmother is one of strength, resilience, and hardships. She was born on 3 June 1897 in Ashford to two Aboriginal parents who had many children, some of whom were taken away. She grew up during a time of assimilation, dispossession, segregation and extreme violence against Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. She was forced to live on Pindari Station. Established in 1893, Pindari Station was an area where Aboriginal people were forced to live. It was a 23-acre area along Pindari Creek, between Wellingrove and Nullamanna. Whilst living there, my greatgreat Grandmother was forced to work for a family as a servant, but the station manager controlled and kept her income.

The wife of the station manager/teacher, Elsie Burrage, wrote letters during her time at the station. She speaks of her previous worries of being lonely but celebrates that she receives visits from the other non-Indigenous people at the station. She further reflects that “the Blacks’ houses are in the hollow about ¼ mile off. They are not at all repulsive. I thought they would be”.

In a later letter, she describes attending a dance at the station where she speaks of my great-great Grandmother, saying, “One girl had on an evening dress, looked like art muslin. It was bright scarlet, such a pretty shade and trimmed with silver trimming. She happened to be home as the people she was working for had gone for a holiday. She’s about 18, but the girls all have gone to go away to work when they are 14”. Elsie Burrage speaks of the station as a pleasant and civil place to live. However, she is viewing the station through the lens of her white settler privilege, the same lens that all colonisers looked through whilst they stole our land, children, and culture, and tried to assimilate us into their ‘civilised’ white settler society. I would also argue that this white settler lens of privilege and sense of superiority remains present within contemporary so-called ‘Australia’. This is clearly evident with the contemporary settler-colonial Government continuing the strategic and active elimination of Indigenous people. It may not be the same as it was throughout the Frontier Wars with the massacres, assimilation, and dispossession. Still, the Government continues to strategically eliminate Indigenous people through the extreme limitations of Native Title, allowing the destruction of sacred sites, police brutality and deaths in custody, the continuing forced removal of our children, and systematic and institutional racism that is deeply embedded within our society.

It’s important to make obvious that whilst Elsie Burrage reflected upon her worries of loneliness and living with “the Blacks”, my great-great Grandmother was forced to live in a hollow and work as an enslaved person for a white family. We do not know what else happened to Annie and her sisters while living at the station and working. Still, it is essential to shed light on the truth that other Aboriginal women throughout this country were forced to work as domestic servants where they suffered both sexual and physical abuse and were forced to live and work under horrific and inhumane conditions. What I do know is that whilst living at the station and working, my great-great Grandmother’s brothers came and broke her and her sisters out of the station and took them to Moree. The brothers then had to change their last names as police hunted them for their ‘crime’.

She later married a Swedish man and lived in Moree, where they raised their children. These children would later face the threat of their own children being stolen. If it weren’t for my great Grandmother hiding her children and protecting them, my Pop would have been taken. Although my great Grandmother protected my Pop and his siblings from being taken, they were still forced to face extreme racism and attend a school on the Moree mission where they received inadequate education. She also couldn’t protect herself from the health inequalities and disadvantages that Aboriginal people face as she passed away in her forties.

This is only a brief story of my great-great Grandmother and a mention of my great Grandmother. These women are only two of my matriarchs who have paved the way for me and are the reason for my presence in this world. I thank my matriarchs for being the reason for my presence in this world and for everything I do.

by Allastassia Carter