Oombulgurri One More Time

"Main Street" and about the only street in Oombulgurri, Western Australia

Recently,  I found this old picture of Oombulgurri Human Development Project's main drag. It must have been taken in the early '70s. It got me wondering about how Oombulgurri is faring today.

While we were there in the late 70's, diamonds were discovered in the Kimberley's and the government was concerned that we would interfere with their negotiations with the Aboriginal people regarding ownership and rights to the profits from diamond mining on Aboriginal sacred land.

I'm sure I could ask and find out the outcome, but I'm also sure the people's rights did not get honored.  

The government sure made it impossible for us to stay in the community. Therefore, we backed on out of there to focus our work in another community, near Sydney, named Murrin Bridge.

An important part of the history of the Institute of Cultural Affairs working with Aboriginal people in Australia is that they had just recently acquired status as human beings. True dinkum!!! All had lived on mission stations for a couple-three generations and the ways to survive and thrive on the land were not being transferred to the next generations, rendering the people totally codependent - like farm animals - on" gudia" (white people) to care for them.

Left on their own, they totally collapsed as a culture and as a people. But, the culture that ran in their bones, through their hearts, and into a cry for sanctuary, was alive and well.  This was true everywhere in Australia. A demonstration community of possibility was our response.

My concern is more for the history which has walked this lane, as well as the possibility of a story of continuing unfolding development. As themodified cliche goes, if these old boab trees could dance the story, what would the corroboree reveal.

There have been many books written  - stories told - since the  1970's. They have been written by college educated authors of Aboriginal heritage. That in and of itself tells a huge story of how time has healed the atrocious wounds of an ancient culture.

Still, I look at this photo and I wonder how Oombulgurri is faring. How is Olive, Elaine, Sheila, my narlagu  (same name) Judy, and all the other wonderful people - revolutionary pioneers in their life's time - whose names have slipped into the unreachable places of collective memory.

How are they faring? What has been their destiny? And you? How are you faring? What's been your destiny?