The Colour of My Skin
In Australia, the identities of First Nations people run far deeper than skin colour. But having your identity questioned, because you do not “look like” the outdated stereotype, is a common experience shared by many.
How does it feel when your identity is questioned?
In the ABC documentary Walkabout Wickets, Aboriginal cricketers reflected on how others have questioned their identity because of their skin colour, and the impact this had.
The cricketers have faced disrespectful assumptions and questions throughout their lives.
“You’re telling me you’re Aboriginal and yet you’re not.”
“How much are you?”
“What’s the difference?”
“How black do you have to be?”
“What’s the ratio?”
“Is this guy .016%?”
“That’s the sort of stuff that gets you down,” said Wiradjuri cricketer Ben Patterson.
Worimi cricketer Sam Doggett recalled how people have pushed him for an answer. “And for me it’s like, well, what does it matter? What are you? You say you’re Irish? How much Irish are you? You never ask someone that, do you? So, what’s it to you?”
Ashley Couzens is a descendent of Johnny Couzens, a member of the First IX Aboriginal Cricket team. Johnny played in the famous 1868 England tour, along with his brother James Mosquito Couzens.
“There are still people who use terminologies from the 50s and 40s, around the assimilation policies. Half caste, quarter caste,” said Ashley in Walkabout Wickets - reflecting on policies behind the forcible removal of First Nations children from their families, the Stolen Generations. “They don’t recognise that they’re quite offensive terms from back then, and they directly correlate to those policies.”
Looking deeper than skin colour.
Diverse First Nations identities are deeper than skin colour. Wiradjuri, Ngemba and Paakantji storyteller Gemma Pol from Common Ground notes that connection, not colour, is at the heart of First Nations identities. And that country, mob, and ancestors are important forms of connection that run far deeper than colour.
Connection to country
Country, or land, is fundamental to First Nations identities. For First Nations people, land is more than the physical environment. It embodies all aspects of First Nations existence - culture, language, spirituality and law.
Connection to mob
‘Mob’ is a colloquial term identifying a First Nations community or group linked to a particular place or Country. Mobs are generally larger than families but are based on family links through common ancestry.
Connection to ancestors
For First Nations people, connecting to the Ancestors is not confined to one’s family lineage. Rather, it encompasses First Nations spirituality and the interconnectedness of plants, animals, landforms and celestial bodies.
Source: Gemma Pol, Common Ground
Josh’s story.
Gamilaraay Australian Cricketer Joshua Lalor knows what it feels like to have others question his identity when skin colour is all they see. He caught up with us to share his experiences, reflections and hopes for the future.
Jokes that hurt.
I don’t see myself as ‘the Indigenous one’. But this is often how others have seen me throughout life at school, and now in adulthood. While this is part of me, I am just me.
I didn’t think of being Aboriginal as a thing, until people at school made it a thing. Friends would pick out something about you to make jokes about. There was the short one for example, and me, the Indigenous one. Usually they picked out something supposedly ‘negative’, as though being Aboriginal was not something to be proud of.
Although I may not look like what people perceive an Aboriginal person to ‘look like’, the friends that I had in high school still joked around about having an Indigenous friend. It didn’t mean though that it wasn’t hurtful, just because I don’t have darker skin. It’s true what they say: you literally can’t judge a book by its cover. I think this concept that identity is just about skin colour is really, really backward.
Older and wiser?
As an adult, I’d hear comments and jokes about my skin colour and being Aboriginal from 25, 30 year old men at cricket matches. The same jokes and comments that I heard at school. That I’ve heard a thousand times. Speaking with other Aboriginals and people of colour, I realise that we share these experiences.
We’re really in our infancy now even as adults in our understanding of racism and race, skin colour and identity. Of how to have conversations around this, and of the impact of our words.
But our children are learning this racial literacy and empathy much earlier on in life through more education opportunities, mentors, and through their role models - often athletes. Over time children will know how to have these conversations, it will feel more natural. They will know how to support one another. And it will be easier to find support when you need it.
Intent, conversations, and understanding.
I’ve noticed that when people know you’re Aboriginal, they can feel afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing - like feeling nervous before delivering an Acknowledgement of Country. But it’s about the intent. As an Aboriginal, seeing that you’re trying, that you’ve done your best, it means so much.
It’s different for everyone. There are spectrums of expertise and fluency in talking about racism and race, skin colour and identity. We’re all at our own point in the journey. It takes time, experiences, and conversations to learn and grow.
Over time I’ve built my own confidence to talk about it. Working on reconciliation action plans in my workplaces has helped. There are so many issues, but in my life I see it the most and experience it the most in sport. I know sport, and it’s where I’m working to make a difference.
Joshua Lalor - Australian cricketer
