Invasion Day

Every morning on Invasion day has been the same for my family, for the last 14 years living in Sydney and attending our local Survival Day event Yabun which is a Gadigal word for ‘music to a beat’. Waking up early to the sounds of mum calling out, “Get up! time to get ready, I want to make sure I get a park and listen to the Welcome to Country”. Rushing around trying to find the right outfit to wear something red-black and yellow, chucking on some Nikes, grabbing the bags and jumping in the car.  

The energy is always the same: it’s a sorrowful morning of self-reflection and silence. The car radio softly plays on the ride over; Koori Radio is playing all the Indigenous classics, setting the tone, but also calling for remembrance of where we have come from as a people.

Invasion Day evokes so many different emotions for me, it always has since I can remember. I’m lucky enough to be born in a generation that has something to celebrate. My mother her sisters and their mother were never provided the opportunity to celebrate our very survival. Only after the efforts and battles of Indigenous people before me; now do I have the opportunity to rejoice, reflect and reconnect.

For the rest of the country, this day is a public holiday. It’s the opportunity to celebrate being “Aussie” whatever that may mean. And that’s the power of this national identity. It can mean so many thing. But there are allowances and limitations in regard to being “Aussie”. Being Indigenous, ironically does not fit into this construct, we are alienated from this national identity, systematically adding another layer to our dispossession.

I have been doing some deep research and reflection in regards to Australia Day, because that’s the thing. We cannot have our Invasion Day marches or Survival Day celebrations without this day. This day marks our nation’s identity, but it also marks the day we truly lost ours.

The reality is that so many Indigenous peoples and communities have been ransacked from our ancient ways of being and knowledges. This type of impact cannot be captured quantitively or qualitatively or be measured in any metric form. It can only be felt. We as Indigenous people experience this loss everyday of our lives. Although it is truly exposed on January 26th, where we remember our 60,000 years of connection to this continent and 233 years of colonisation.  

It’s hard to communicate the impacts on my identity with the celebration of this national holiday. It’s hard to communicate the systematic alienation and degradation this day generates for first nations people. It’s hard because it’s painful. And this is why it’s so important for non-Indigenous Australians to stand with us in solidarity. This is why it’s so important; our cries for recognition and action are responded too. Let’s abolish Australia Day, let’s create a new day with a new name. One we all collectively can be proud of.

Only when Australia provides assistance, recognition, respect and value to Indigenous people(s), land(s), water(s) and culture.