Embracing an Indigenous identity while growing up in Canberra
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Imagine a childhood where your cultural identity is forged against a backdrop of opposing forces.
That’s how Tamara Graham grew up.
She is the daughter of an Aboriginal father who was a member of the Stolen Generation and an outspoken advocate for Indigenous rights. Tamara’s non-Indigenous mother raised her in Canberra and largely sought to ignore her Aboriginal heritage.
Tamara has made her way slowly, independently, and resolutely towards identifying as a proud Noongar woman and has worked hard to establish a career in which she seeks to improve the lives of Indigenous people living in the ACT and surrounding region.
Tamara has agreed to tell HerCanberra her very personal story because she wants to illustrate the power of choices, of education and self-determination as an Indigenous woman. She wants to be a good role model for her daughter, and possibly, others who read her story.
Tamara Graham, Executive Branch Manager of the ACT Government’s Office for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Affairs and proud Noongar woman.
Now a poised and accomplished senior public servant who has worked full-time while putting herself through university, completing a Bachelor of Business, Graduate Certificate in Criminology and Graduate Certificate in Indigenous Trauma and Recovery Practice, Tamara is the Executive Branch Manager of the ACT Government’s Office for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Affairs.
Her father is prominent West Australian Aboriginal ex-serviceman Phillip Prosser, who was removed from his family at the age of just six-years-old and sent to be raised at Roelands Mission—home to more than 500 Stolen Generation children.
Phillip’s mother was born on the notorious government-run station for the punishment of Aboriginals, Moola Bulla, before being removed from her family at age six and sent to the Moore River settlement.
Phillip was raised in strict discipline and cut off from all aspects of his family and culture, according to official histories of his life and career.
The notion of the Army as an escape was not uncommon for survivors of institutional out-of-home care, and Phillip signed up for the cadets once he was released from the Mission. He then enlisted in the regular Australian Army, served in Malaya and did a tour of duty in Vietnam from between 1966–67, receiving praise throughout his career for his leadership abilities and for his practical operations skills.
Yet Phillip bore the brunt of overt racism both in and out of the Army, despite the sacrifices he made to serve his country.
Phillip met Tamara’s mother when he was stationed in Canberra at Royal Military College Duntroon, but they separated and he later relocated back to WA when Tamara was 11.
“We always remained close. We had a good relationship. So even though he lived on the other side of the country, we would still talk and communicate and he would fly me over there and then come back east to visit me,” Tamara recalls.
Yet for the early part of Tamara’s life, she felt distinctly disconnected from her Aboriginality.
Tamara’s Grandparents Gladys Gilligan and Arthur Prosser on their wedding day.
“Canberra was a very white city. I guess when I was younger, and probably even up until when I was married and in my mid-twenties, I was just.. me. It was only after that when I started asking questions and doing research and building my connection to my heritage.”
Understanding her father’s story and the tragic fragmentation of her forebears was an important part of Tamara’s journey and she carries the emotional weight of that intergenerational trauma particularly when she considers what her dad and grandmother had to endure.
“It was just so wrong.”
For most of her school life, Tamara did not discuss her heritage with her mum. But after leaving school and sitting the entry test for the Australian Public Service, Tamara eventually found herself working in Corrections.
It was here that she found a new connection to Indigenous justice and to her dad, who had later in his life became a leading advocate for Aboriginal people in the prison system. In 1988 he helped establish and run the Aboriginal Visitors Scheme which was Initiated as a result of the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody and entailed sending visitors to local prisons and police lock-ups to provide counselling to Western Australian Aboriginal prisoners. Phillip also ran cultural diversity training programs for police.
“Whether it was the conversations we had had about my dad’s work that sparked my interest, I just had this desire to work with people in the criminal justice system. And because Indigenous over-representation in the justice system is through the roof, I suddenly became exposed to everything I had been protected from by my mum. I think because I was older and I had more confidence, I was able to ask my dad about it all.
“And when I would ask questions about culture, obviously he was more than happy to share. Whenever his story was published in a book, he would send me the book or he’d send me photos. He has been in documentaries; he was in the Bringing Them Home Report, and was very involved with Aboriginal veterans and those in the justice system as well as Aboriginal youth. He achieved a lot.”
While her connection to country and culture took decades to be established “because I was always told that I wasn’t Indigenous”, Tamara determined her own daughter born 16 years ago would know her roots.
“I remember my mum was a bit agitated, asking me after my daughter was born whether we had ticked the box saying she was Indigenous. When I told her we had she said ‘what did you do that for Tamara?’. It was a bit of a blow.
“With my own daughter, I want to protect her from the negativity and build her up to understand who she is and to be confident in that understanding. She’s been raised since day dot to acknowledge that she’s Aboriginal and she should be proud of that.”
So far, Tamara has succeeded with her daughter managing to fend off intrusive questions about how Indigenous she really is and “whether she gets special benefits”.
“She came home the other day and said a girl at school had asked her how much of a percentage Aboriginal she was. My daughter has fair skin and blue eyes and this girl said ‘Well if you are one-sixteenth or less then it doesn’t even count’. My daughter said ‘First of all, mum, I know it’s not her fault, she’s only saying what she’s been taught.’ And then she said she just smiled and walked away.”
Tamara says people in Canberra can still display ignorance of both Indigenous history and current affairs.
“I just suggest people don’t make assumptions but educate themselves. We’ve got books, we’ve got the internet, we’ve got people who will tell you their story if you can respect it. If you genuinely ask with the intent to hear and learn, and not dismiss what you are told, then we move forward. Around questions of identity, it is not up to someone to assume how much Indigenous percentage is ‘enough’. It’s actually quite offensive. I either identify or I don’t identify, period.”
Meanwhile, on a professional level, Tamara is at the coalface of dealing with the impact of entrenched discrimination and disadvantage of Indigenous people.
“The prison is heartbreaking. I think we are about 2.9 per cent of the ACT population, but Indigenous women constitute 52 per cent of those in custody. It’s tough to see, the mums without their babies, and listening to the result of some recent consultation we did with women in custody. Hearing their stories first-hand is pretty tough. But it just makes me want to work harder.”
Tamara doesn’t have any easy answers to “fix” the myriad disadvantages Indigenous Australians face every day and wishes real progress could be made faster.
“In my opinion, based on my own experiences, we need to understand past practices and how that has impacted on generations to be able to understand where Indigenous people are today. These impacts don’t just disappear and yet people say to me they don’t understand how what happened in the past can affect the people today?
“It does, and it has, and it will continue to do so. So many interwoven issues need to be addressed, particularly when we look at the justice system. So you can’t work with somebody without understanding their whole story.
“I think that understanding needs to be the very first step for anyone who really wants to know what it is like to live as an Aboriginal in Australia. Everyone’s story is different. I have had to find my own level of understanding in order to get to this point of acceptance and pride in who I am and what I have achieved.”
