Mandy Nolans Soapbox: In the shadow of a coming referendum – the light of progress

On 15 October I hope this country wakes up with a ‘Yes’ for the Voice referendum. In putting forward my view, I have been savagely trolled. I’ve had some opportunistic ‘No’ people use my platform to prosecute their agenda. I have not gone on the page of ‘No’ supporters. I have not abused them. I have seen the proliferation of misinformation and the use of fear and conspiracy to inflame uncertainty and to keep Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people voiceless in our colonial system. 

So this week I have asked my nephew, Levi Murray, a Wakka Wakka/ Kubi Kubi man to share his insights. Levi is the Strategic Director with the Indigenous Studies Unit at Melbourne School of Population and Global Health and Strategic Manager of Indigenous Data Network at the University of Melbourne. He is an expert health strategist and has worked in a dynamic range of primary healthcare settings throughout Australia.

He currently works alongside Marcia Langton. His view is broad and informed by data, his compassion is immense and his connection to culture and country is present in everything he does. He is one of the smartest people I know. Maybe you will listen to him.

– Mandy Nolan

Reflections: By Levi Murray

Life has an uncanny way of echoing the narratives of art, and presently, we find ourselves caught in a script that feels all too reminiscent of the opening scenes in disaster movies. Picture this: scientists, their pleas falling on deaf ears, rushing to confront impending catastrophe. It may sound clichéd, yet the resonance with reality is undeniably unsettling. However, this time, these scientists are not mere actors; they are esteemed experts and, in my case, colleagues such as the distinguished Redman Barry Professor Marcia Langton AO.

While I cannot speak for the experiences of all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, my journey toward a forthcoming referendum spans not just the preceding months of 2023 but a decade marked by unwavering commitment and progress. Throughout this extended period, and my lifetime, I struggled to recall a moment when public discourse and rhetoric did not confine me—physically and spiritually. It seems that my experiences, intentions, and actions, both past and future, have all been sequestered.

In moments of introspection, the words of the French philosopher and essayist Roland Barthes come to mind. Barthes dissected photography from three angles: the operator, the spectator, and the spectrum. The operator, the photographer, captures the image—the ‘to do.’ The spectator, who gazes upon the photograph in exhibitions, newspapers, or albums, undertakes the act of ‘looking at.’ The spectrum, the subject being photographed, undergoes the ‘undergo.’ In Barthes’ framework, we encounter the essence of storytelling, where each element—the photographer (operator), the subject (spectrum), and the viewer (spectator)—plays a crucial role in shaping the narrative.

I have found myself uniquely positioned in our ongoing quest for justice and recognition. I have become the operator whilst simultaneously being part of the spectrum, offering a detached yet pluralistic spectator’s view of reality. This experience was unforeseen, as my journey transitioned from operator to becoming part of the spectrum amid the ongoing battle for Indigenous rights and a seemingly elusive referendum.

In my current capacity, I am the Strategic Manager of Indigenous Data at the University of Melbourne and the Indigenous Data Network. Over nearly two decades, my work has spanned various domains, including health and education, and I have donned many hats. This journey has encompassed the spiritual, educational, emotional, and physical realms, with thousands of kilometres travelled and hundreds of communities experienced across all states and territories. This journey has essentially been a quest for a voice, not just for myself but for my family, friends and broader communities to which I am intrinsically connected and responsible. 

Throughout my nearly 20 year journey in education and health, the revolving door of government and the prevalence of government-contracted consultancy with firms such as PWC and KPMG have underscored one apparent reality: we need a mechanism that allows Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people not only to problematise effectively but also to prioritise and find viable solutions. This is not to say we have not experienced moments of alignment or periods of significant collegial success throughout history. Instead, as a nation, we cannot afford to begin waning on our way to new horizons.

During the peak of the global COVID-19 pandemic, I served as the Executive Manager of Clinical Excellence for Population Health with the Victorian Aboriginal Community Controlled Organisation. In that capacity, I witnessed the potential value and benefits that a Voice to Parliament could offer. Imagine the strides we could make if the government continues to collaborate with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities in the same manner they did during the pandemic’s height. Entirely new models of care, clinical design, and governance were not merely conceptualised but brought to fruition because we had critical seats at the table and an effective means of voicing community needs for our priority populations.

The momentum, synergy, and goodwill that carried us forward and through the darkest phases of the pandemic should not wane as we emerge on the other side. Nor should we regress to flawed and outdated systems that proved inadequate, not just for any societal group but for all. 

From the onset of the pandemic to the present, former Secretary of Health and Human Services, Michael O. Leavitt, continues to resonate: ‘We do not know when a pandemic might strike. But we can be sure of two things. Everything we do before a pandemic will seem alarmist. Everything we do after a pandemic will seem inadequate. This is the dilemma we face, but it should not stop us from doing what we can to prepare. We need to reach out to everyone with words that inform but do not inflame. We need to encourage everyone to prepare but not to panic.’

My vote is unequivocally ‘Yes.’ It has always been ‘Yes,’ but arriving at this conclusion required education and introspection. Whenever I am asked how I reached this stance, my answer is rooted in the belief that we, as a collective society, have thrived when we have said ‘Yes’—not just for Indigenous priorities but broadly across society. As we approach the referendum in the following weeks, days, and hours, whatever your position has been, I want you to remember that standing on the banks of the river upstream, the river may seem to split. However, if you look further upstream, that is where the river meets and joins in confluence.

I am not trying to convince anyone, but rather – reassure, that in the wake of a ‘Yes’ outcome, you won’t wake to find a post-apocalyptic world where Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are the supreme overlords or driving down glittered-rainbow roads for that matter (as a small, and secular portion of society would have you believe about the LGBTQI+ community ahead of the postal survey for same-sex marriages).

In the event of a ‘Yes’ outcome, Australia will have it watershed moment, we’ll have entered a new era and maturity.