For a while I thought this is enough, I was a bit disappointed there wasn’t any surprises. And then as I spent time listening to local Indigenous people tell the stories of their country and ancestors I realised that a quick fix DNA wasn’t enough. Someone said ‘why are you so interested in our culture, when you don’t know your own’. I thought about this, and talked to my Uncle who has been doing our family tree for years.
And there on the computer, thanks to my Uncle, Aunty and Grandfather are 19,000 names and snippets of information about people that are in some way connected to me. That blows my mind, and is overwhelming, but its just a matter of time to trace these people and see where they are from.
I also find that looking at my Identity is very challenging, my entire life comes under scrutiny, what is my culture, my language, who are my people. Where do I fit into this country. As a child growing up I saw the indigenous camps on the edge of town made from corrugated iron and discarded material, and I’m shamed to know, that I didn’t question the story behind this inequality.