In August 2018, UNSW Arts and Social Sciences, Women’s Legal Service NSW and the National Centre for Indigenous Excellence sponsored and hosted a unique forum of 42 Aboriginal, Torres Strait and Pacific Islander women intended to ‘Break Silent Codes’ and share stories of cultural and spiritual responses to the issue of sexual assault and family violence in communities across Australia and the Pacific.

The forum provided a platform for women to discuss the ways in which community, religion, authority and family create silences around sexual assault and family violence. There are many injustices experienced by Aboriginal and Torres Strait and Pacific Islander communities. For a long time, it has seemed that all other matters of injustice are more important than the sexual assault and domestic violence in communities. Women experience this as a silencing of issues important to their spiritual and physical well being.

Through this book, we share with you the stories of this gathering which has now become a movement of its own for First Nations women across Australia and the Pacific.

“Maumahara Ki ō mana ake me te kaha wairua”

I was born into a mentally, physically, and verbally violent household. My perpetrator was my Father who abused everyone and anyone. I was also taken from my parents and became a State Ward for 18 years. I was in and out of foster care homes and detention centres. I was neglected, starved of food, and sexually violated at early age. I could never make sense in my mind of what the hell was going on in my life. I had seven siblings but we were all separated. I didn’t understand the family unit. I knew I had a big family but didn’t realise the importance of a relationship connection with them.

As a child I did not connect with my family because time and place was of the essence. In time I understood what family means especially in Aboriginal Culture. As I approached my twenties I made it an effort to reconnect with my family, cousins, etc. Family to me means everything. It was love, happiness, and joy in my mind but in reality it was dark, lonely, and scary. I am a loner now not that I wish to be. Most family members only connect with their own children and own grandchildren, after that there are barriers, walls, and lack of communication. To cope with my traumatic existence I heal with a variety of coping mechanisms and try anything to aid in my recovery. In order to survive in this cruel, racist, and greedy world I have been seeing counsellors at Lotus Place at Stones Corner Womens House at Woolongabba Nungeena in Glasshouse Mountains and Healing Rooms.

I only ever had suicidal thoughts once and that was the day my daughter became Queensland Young Lawyer of the Year 2005. I am now 55 years old, Nana, Mother, Aunty, Cousin, and Sister with two Adult children and six grandchildren. I understand now of the intergenerational trauma and pain and hope that what I have been through never happens to my grandchildren or any children or anyone who is in a vulnerable state. I will always continue to speak out speak up and speak truth. Don’t ever let pain, trauma, and suffering consume your health mentally, physically, or sexually. Please seek help. There will always be someone to talk to who will advocate, counsel you, understand you, and enlighten your misery, grief, and pain.

Silence Is a small space

Silence is a very small space that gets smaller

Silence is incredibly loud, it screams ‘you are alone’

It is lonely

It is dark

It only ever shines light on your insecurities, your ugliness, your hopelessness

Silence has ripped the lips off my smiling face

Silence has me drowning

Silence has me drowning in a small space that fills with water and no way out

Silence has left my body broken and curled into a question mark asking ‘ how much more can I take?’ but silence holds the most power in isolation

My whispers, my thoughts are not alone

Our voices sit in a chorus of harmony, both in morning and rejoicing in finding our hope.

Knowing that I am not alone, I am Shook out  of that small room

 I tread water, hoping, knowing that together we will reach land.

“Breaking silent codes…
No more silence.
We are free.
You spoke the words of many women before
you, and that included me.
You are brave, you are strong.
A warrioress , who will not sing their song.
Together we walk strong and we are free.
My beautiful daughter, I now know, my body
belongs to me.
No more silence.
We are free.”

Kia orana e te katoatoa,

Sexual and Family violence within Pacific communities is a socially and culturally conditioned phenomenon. As a Pacific clinician for 25 years in Aotearoa, New Zealand, twenty-two years of which has been as a New Zealand-qualified and registered nurse in the community, I have become exponentially aware of the machinery of such abuse and its social and cultural discourse within our communities that have evolved from within a shared commonality of `collectivism’. Breaking Silent Codes Across Australia and the Pacific has been an opportunity to de-colonise the neoliberal hegemonic western construct endured by First Nations Peoples globally, in an Indigenous collectivist women gathering of sharing time and space, just as our tupuna (ancestors) in the Pacific have done for millennia. I would like to acknowledge Caroline Herewini and Dixie Link Gordon as the visionaries behind this movement. Nga mihi aroha ki a korua.

Nga mihi,
Apolonia

‘I am a Wiradjuri/Ngunnawal woman born and raised in Cowra. Currently I am working as a  SHLV Caseworker at Weave Youth and Community services

It’s 2019, yet an Aboriginal woman is 32 times more likely to be hospitalised for domestic violence by their partner.

For too long, our abusive and violent experiences are not being validated and in many instances our women are being judged and disregarded by their own communities, families and social networks because they spoke out.

Domestic and sexual abuse is devastating.

We black women are warriors. Because of this, we are often expected to withstand anything and suffer in silence.

We feel shame about something that was imposed upon us.

We place blame on ourselves or each other when it doesn’t belong there- because it’s easier.

Violence and abuse within an intimate relationship can be perceived as private and personal. It makes us uncomfortable; so uncomfortable that it keeps us silent.

I am grateful to a part of this courageous and inspiring circle of women to break silent codes.’

For a long time under the colonial tyranny our silence to the colonial rape culture and violence to women’s was expected. The price of that silence has been a high price which we no longer will pay. The price has been broken women, broken families, suicides, addictive behaviours, loss of cultural ties, demonising of our spirituality, poverty, criminalisation of victims, slut shaming and other hateful misogynistic behaviours. I will amplify the voices of our foremothers and continue to resist. I will continue to find healing and decolonisation, in sisterhood, truth telling , recognising my resilience and reclaiming culture.

STORY

‘I’m a proud Ngemba woman.
My mob are from south west Queensland
Breaking Silent codes of DV and sexual assault means – it’s time ! No more secrets!
It’s important we break the silence.
It’s time to heal.
It’s time to stand proud and share our stories.
Stories may be taboo by sharing we can help each other.
No more pain shame guilt.
For me I will keep sharing my story again and again
I have made the choice to END the cycle and break the intergenerational violence.
We as indigenous women connecting as a global community to make changes is very much needed.
The need is now!
How do we rise to the challenges?
How do we embrace these opportunities?
We can start by listening and hearing what has been said.
Offer community workshops throughout Australia and the pacific.
Offer support groups to connect with others.
Learn from each other.
Ask ‘what is working and what isn’t ‘
Share ideas thoughts and suggestions to begin the healing.
Offer art therapy food therapy meditation writing dance and more.
Strength comes through vulnerability.
A humbling experience to be able to make a difference to support indigenous women to live their best lives.’

In the embers of such chaos,
the silence rings aloud.
Who hears her cry, her heart?
or calms that rabid sound…
Of pain, of suffering,
of deep and dark resound.

Where is her voice,
where indeed is she found!
But coiled in that shame,
lying red, on silent ground.
In family, in faith
or community – often bound.
For her silence, only silence
rings through the mighty crowd.

So, rally all you sisters!
Love can make a sound.
Cry for her, scream for her,
Let us turn things around,
And hold in our palms
Clenched tight black and round
The fight for acceptance
where sisterhood abounds!
 

Make a place, make a way
For her voice to be found
In the safety of our shoulders
In the healing of hallowed ground.