Growing Up In A White Man’s World

A story of how a young Aboriginal boy lived and changed through

1901-1914

I’ve been told stories of what it used to be like, when my ancestral tribe’s used to travel from land to land grazing among the food and earth where life used to be calm and peaceful, where we the Aboriginal people were one with the land and all its creatures. I cannot begin to imagine such a place where I would be treated the same and have the same rights as the “White Men”. Where would be cared and nurtured for like all the other children not out casted like some foul creature.

My name is Burnum and I am 13 years old. My name means Great Warrior which is fairly ironic because everyday I need to fight for survival in the “White Men's” world, whether it be for food, water or even simple shelter, things always seem to come to me last.

I live with my mother Alinga and my two sisters Myuna and Kala who are both younger than me. We're all fairly close but I guess we don't really have a choice as us “Negro's” have to stick together to survive in the “White Men's” world, with all of their views and rules, I don't understand why we can't all just get along.

It gets me angry that I'm not treated the same and I'm looked at differently than the “White's” especially since 1901 when the Immigration Restriction Act, which saw Aboriginals as invader’s of the land was widely viewed as a good thing as it meant that Australia should be kept a “White” society.

My life mainly consists of going out for food, that I usually have to hunt or pick for as the “White’s” usually just glare at me and some just refuse to serve me. Especially when they have children they always manage to get away from me as quickly as possible.I guess I don’t really mind but it does make me feel uncomfortable.

My mother barely leaves the house as she has to look after my two younger sisters and I can’t really blame her as the only times I go out are to get food or play with the other “Negro’s.” We all get along us Negro’s as we either get along with each other or no one because the “White’s” don’t seem to like us.

We gave ourselves the name Negro’s as it was a lot nicer than some of the names we overheard from the “White Men”. It’s fairly obvious why they don’t like us but just because we have different coloured skin doesn’t give them a right to tease us and treat us differently.

Some of the main differences that I face every day are the facts that I have to go to the river to wash what little clothes I have instead of using copper pots and my family and I have to go to the nearby bush if we are to go to the toilet unlike the fancy outhouses the “White Men” use.

I also don’t get to go to school but neither do most of the “Whites” it’s only the rich ones. However me and all the Negro’s are taught a little by one of the older Aboriginals so I guess it’s better than nothing. I probably wouldn’t want to be crammed in a little wooden room all day anyway.

My favourite activities include drawing on the big sandstone rocks and running around with the other Negro’s as we aren’t given many toys or scheduled activities. I don’t think were even allowed to play with the “White” children as their parents get angry and then everyone isolates themselves for days.

Sometimes I really wish I could play with the “White” children because some of them look nice it’s just there parents who don’t like us. Maybe when they grow up they will like us Aboriginals and we can all be friends not rivals.

I like it when some of the “White” children come and play in the bushes with us even if its only for a little while because they don’t know the best hiding spots. When their parents come though they start yelling at us and some even chase us around the forest trying to catch us.

Some of us Negro’s have face painting competitions and everybody likes that. It’s not like the “White Men’s” parades though were they have decorations and music and all the people walk the streets cheering.

I quite like my life because I have lots of friends and a really nice family I just wish that I could get along with the “White Men” as well because then we could all live together and in peace with no fighting.

I guess I’m also quite lucky because apparently there used to be a lot of violent fights before I was born about the land and its inhabitants. I couldn’t imagine it but people say that the “White Men” used to hate us even more and some people even died.

I always knew that the “White’s” didn’t really like us but I never thought they could ever hurt us. It makes me think that I shouldn’t even try to get along with them because they obviously don’t like me and they’ll always treat me differently no matter what I do.

I’m going to make the “White’s” feel the same way they did about me – untrustworthy and different because it doesn’t matter what I do I’ll always be different.

The End

By David Thomson