Why do some people struggle with Welcome to Country?
It’s a cultural ritual performed to honour the land where an event or gathering is being held.
It recognises that you are meeting on the land of First Nations peoples. Last I checked, even if you are born here. Or your dad was born here, and his dad. And his dad’s dad. Well, at some point if you are not Indigenous then your family arrived, and while you’re a few generations here, you’re not a first people. But that’s okay because you are welcomed.
Being welcomed is actually very beautiful. It makes me feel more connected to this place – not less. It actually feels like inclusion. And if we’re very quiet, and we allow the space, sometimes we can learn something new about somewhere we have lived and be enriched. Loving this country means understanding her story. The story that came before the colony. The story that came even before people.
I love the ancient story of this place. I love to hear the names of the land where I live or where I am visiting. I love to hear the cultural stories of how rocks have formed. Of the animals that danced in the Dreamtime. Of giant rainbow serpents or turtles or goannas. Of the story that made this place. I like to be reminded to care for Country. That it is my duty too. I like to be reminded that you cannot own Country, that we are caretakers. Not shareholders.
So on Anzac Day, when hecklers booed Welcome to Country at an Anzac Day dawn service in Melbourne, it became clear we still have a long way to go. ANZAC Day is about respect. Welcome to Country is about respect. It’s not competing. It’s complementary. It made me feel very sad. And ashamed. Who gets up at dawn to behave that way?
I can’t imagine how this impacts the Aboriginal community. I think of how this makes Indigenous veterans feel. Or Indigenous kids who hear their elders and their cultural traditions disrespected on the national stage. Why? Those acts of racism are divisive. And I know the majority of Australians and their political leaders felt the same – that this was not okay.
We need to be better than that.
Because right now, in this country, First Nations children and young people are imprisoned at 26 times the rate of non-Indigenous children and young people. Indigenous people are more likely than non-Indigenous people to die in custody. While Aboriginal people are 3% of the adult population, and 8% of 10-17 year-olds, they are more than 30% of the adult prison population, and 50% of youths in detention. Many experience significantly poorer health outcomes, are more likely to live in poverty, and don’t live as long as non-Indigenous people. This is the long tail of colonisation. It’s brutal. And the gap isn’t closing.
Yet First Nations communities still share their culture with us. They still share beautiful Welcome to Country ceremonies with us. They still share belonging. Share story. I would say that is profoundly generous. I would say that is humbling. I would say that is remarkable.
As a non-Indigenous Australian I would like to say thank you. Ironically, when you say ‘thank you’ to someone the response generally is ‘You’re welcome’. I hope we still are.
Mandy Nolan’s Soapbox column has appeared in The Echo for almost 23 years. The personal and the political often meet here; she’s also been the Greens federal candidate since before the last federal election. The Echo’s coverage of political issues will remain as comprehensive and fair as it has ever been, outside this opinion column which, as always, contains Mandy’s personal opinions only.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
