Shame On You Australia

[Ldiggs910]

Who knew?

Australia tries tough love to heal Aboriginal woes



AP – In this May 29, 2009, photo, locals sit on the street side in downtown Wadeye in the Northern Territory …



By KRISTEN GELINEAU, Associated Press Writer Kristen Gelineau, Associated Press Writer – 49 mins ago
WADEYE, Australia – Along the dusty red road that leads from the lonely airstrip into town, the signs flash by: "No alcohol," says one. "Petrol sniffing kills," admonishes another. "Don't bring gunja into our town," warns a third.
And then, one more: "Welcome to Wadeye. Give every Aboriginal kid a chance."


Up the road, a dozen people slump across the porch of a tiny, graffiti-stained house. Inside, a ceiling fan loses a battle with the rancid smell of the garbage and feces that litter the bathroom floor. Palm-sized cockroaches skitter across the shower, and the two bedrooms are crammed with tattered mattresses where some of the home's 18 residents sleep.


This town of 2,500 is the largest Aboriginal community in Australia's remote north, so isolated that it can only be reached by air for half the year when monsoonal rains flood the main road. For years, Wadeye was a drugged-up, crime-ridden wasteland and a painful reminder of Australia's tortured relationship with its oldest inhabitants — a relationship it has tried to both fix and forget.


Now this battered town is in the middle of Australia's latest attempt at a fix: a tough set of policies known as The Intervention. In the past two years, the government has poured hundreds of millions of dollars into Aboriginal communities across the Northern Territory — and forced upon them strict new rules. Residents are now required to spend half their welfare checks on family essentials like food. Welfare payments are suspended if parents in some settlements don't send their kids to school. Pornography and alcohol are banned — although in Wadeye, many white people are allowed to drink in their homes.
But what is pitched as tough love has a downside. A 2008 government review of the intervention found feelings of betrayal and resistance. Many Aborigines complained of "intense hurt and anger at being isolated on the basis of race and subjected to collective measures that would never be applied to other Australians."


So is tough love enough? Or is it doomed, like past approaches, to fail — condemning Aborigines to a third-world life in a first-world nation?
___


Walter Kerinaiua leans against the porch railing of a newly-built, four-bedroom house, where the buttercup-yellow walls still smell of fresh paint and the linoleum floors shine bright. It sure beats his sister-in-law's rusted, steel-sided home a few streets over, where possums, rats and deadly snakes creep through the missing windows after dark.
Kerinaiua is an Aboriginal leader in Nguiu, about 300 miles (500 kilometers) northeast of Wadeye. He's thrilled with the 25 new homes built in his community, but he still struggles to describe his feelings about the intervention. Finally, with a sigh, he settles on one word: "Frustrating."
The new rules were confusing at first. Eventually, Kerinaiua says, most residents warmed to the program, understanding it was meant to help.
But how and whether to help Aborigines has been a loaded issue since the first white settlers came to Australia in 1788. British colonists brought diseases that wiped out vast numbers of Aborigines; and those who survived were driven off the land they had lived on for generations.
For much of the 20th century — through the 1970s — the country forcibly removed Aboriginal children from their families, creating what is dubbed the "Stolen Generations." Australia claimed it wanted to protect children from neglect or abuse. But in most cases, children were taken with no evidence of mistreatment, and were instead abused by their adoptive families and in orphanages.


Aborigines now make up around 2 percent of the country's 22 million-strong population. In recent decades, billions of dollars have been thrown into community programs, housing and education. Yet Aborigines remain the poorest, unhealthiest and most disadvantaged minority, with an average life span 17 years shorter than other Australians.
In June 2007, a government-commissioned inquiry concluded that child sexual abuse in remote Aboriginal communities had become an issue of "urgent national significance." Australians were horrified by the revelations: an 18-year-old high from huffing gasoline fumes sodomized and drowned a 6-year-old; another teen raped his 7-month-old niece.
One week later, then-Prime Minister John Howard announced his government would use its constitutional powers over the Northern Territory to impose strict measures aimed at protecting children. Along with banning alcohol and pornography, the government pledged to improve schools, homes and health care, and create jobs. The initiative cost 687 million Australian dollars ($543 million) in the 2007-08 financial year alone.
Some Australians were outraged, calling it paternalistic and unforgivably racist. But officials argued they had to do something in the face of so much suffering.



The government is sensitive about the program.
So sensitive that even basic facts such as how many Aborigines and communities are affected (about 60,000 in 83 settlements) are offered "on background only."
So sensitive that the intervention's commander, Mike Zissler, is not allowed to discuss it.
The most sensitive issue of all remains child sexual abuse, a subject that is utterly taboo in Aboriginal society. Many Aborigines say the inquiry's report painted them all as predators.
But when it comes to measuring the problem today, information is unavailable, uncollected or unreleased. The communities are too small for the Department of Justice to bother tracking data on them. The Australian Crime Commission is preparing a report — but has no plans to release it publicly.


"We know that women are still being bashed," acknowledges Alison Anderson, the Northern Territory's Minister for Indigenous Policy. "We know that certain children are still being abused."
But how many? And is it fewer than before?
Anderson, like other government officials interviewed, says she simply doesn't know.
___

William Parmbuk, one of Wadeye's elders, stands outside his town's health clinic, where a sign featuring a cartoon superhero offers tips on eradicating scabies.
Parmbuk sees the good in the intervention: more money is flowing in, more jobs are opening up.


He also sees the bad — particularly, the ban on alcohol. Wadeye has technically been a dry community since 1988, but the intervention did not strike down a local rule that allows some people — overwhelmingly white — to get permits to drink in their homes. To Parmbuk, the disparity smacks of racism. No one here, he says, should be allowed to drink.
"The government just like pushing us around," he says. "But the government need to start listening to us — what we want."
He doesn't dispute the town needs help. A few years ago, long-simmering rivalries between clans erupted into violence, with spear and machete-toting men roaming the streets. Some residents now say reports of the melees were exaggerated, but the damage to Wadeye's reputation was done.


Today, the streets are quiet — but problems remain.
An average of 17 people live in each house. On what should be a school day, hundreds of children roam barefoot through town. Playing cards litter the ground; gambling is big in this community.
"Really," explains town store manager Mark Hoy, "there's nothing else to do."
Some believe the government's strict approach has led Aborigines to feel even more hopeless.
"Tough love alone will not deliver outcomes," says Jon Altman, director of the Center for Aboriginal Economic Policy Research at The Australian National University in Canberra.
Altman questions how the government measures progress. For example, he says, officials ask store owners if people are buying more food, then claim that as proof the welfare rules are working.
Pat Rebgetz, who spent more than three years serving as Wadeye's doctor before quitting in December, also questions the government's rosy portrayal of its efforts. Rebgetz says the town he left behind is still a mess: Women continue to be raped, most kids can't speak English, housing is abysmal.


"I don't know how many millions have been spent," Rebgetz says. "Meeting after meeting, reports, investigations — all involving white bureaucrats. And yet nothing hits the ground — nothing changes."
He acknowledges there have been some improvements — particularly, fewer riots in the streets. So can the intervention succeed?
His laugh is bitter.
"All the young men," he says wearily, "to me — they're lost."
___


On the other side of Wadeye, seven Aboriginal men smooth out pools of wet concrete into slabs for new homes. For most, this is the first job they've ever had.
The intervention has created 1,700 jobs in fields such as child care, education and art. Anderson, the territory's Minister for Indigenous Policy, cites other successes: Communities have seen a decrease, albeit slight, in alcohol abuse. Night patrols and extra police keep the streets under control.

But progress is slow.
Anderson, who is Aboriginal, says her people are accustomed to surviving on welfare, with up to 30 people living under one roof. A job or a new house alone won't change their mindset, she says.
Still, she is adamant the intervention will work. In the past, she says, sensitive race relations scared officials away from making hard decisions.
"Tough love has always worked, you know?" she says. "It's worked in my life and it'll work in anyone's life."
Up in the nearby Tiwi Islands, Barry John Puruntatameri, the deputy mayor, says it's all a matter of perspective. School attendance rates, for example, are only between 30 and 40 percent. But before the intervention, they were 10 percent.
The region has traditionally had one of the worst suicide rates in the country. About 10 years ago, the problem got so bad, officials installed spiky steel barriers on power poles to keep men on suicide missions from climbing them.
But in the past five months, he says, there hasn't been a single suicide.
"We'll get there; we'll make this place good, clean and healthy," the mayor says. "It just takes time."
Nearby, grinning students fill the playground of the local school. In the center, a group plays tug-of-war with a rope thicker than some of their arms. Cheers suddenly erupt as one team wins — the children whoop, laugh and leap in the air. For a few moments, they revel in their victory. Really, the victory is that they are there at all.

[AzX5]

I think pretty much every country has similar issues, either with minorities/immigrants, native tribes, or whatever. We have many problems in this country, no doubt about it...

PROMISES, PROMISES: Indian health care's victims

[Ldiggs910]

Originally Posted by AzX5

...

Baker went to her local clinic with severe chest pains and was sent by ambulance to a hospital more than an hour away. It wasn't until she got there that she noticed she had a note attached to her, written on U.S. Department of Health and Human Services letterhead. "Understand that Priority 1 care cannot be paid for at this time due to funding issues," the letter read. "A formal denial letter has been issued."
...

This is ridiculous! You're absolutely right. Two examples of a homeland being stolen from a people and then basically genocide occurs and the few survivors are basically dying off.

We hear virtually nothing of these things here in NYC since we have hordes of homeless people riding our subways and sleeping in our parks being frozen to death to be worried about.

But I visited New Mexico last month and learned alot about the Native Americans and how they've been scootched over to virtually worthless wastelands with no natural resources or value.

Sad, sad, sad. Shame on America too...

[BradATL]

I think "shame on our great, great, great grandfathers" is probably appropriate, but no shame on me or you.

There is no doubt that the European exploration and ultimately colonization resulted in great human tragedy for the indiginous peoples. But I wasn't around back then, and neither were you.

So instead of issuing shame and blame, the focus should be "what can we do now to improve the condition of the indigenous people?"

I am not sure that the Australian government's actions are the best solution, but at least it sounds like they are investing some serious money into the problem and are trying SOMETHING, rather than just ignoring the situation.

If you think there is a better approach, please speak up.

[LVR]

aaahhh, well, can I first say that having read the article you posted and particularly the title of the thread, I suggest you do some research before passing judgment.

Over the years different methods have been tried to bring aborigines up to our interpretation of an acceptable (ie non 3rd world) living standard. Successive governments have tried to short circuit their malaise by;

• removing children from the squalor (to which the hanky wringing lefties objected and now call the resulting more educated adults the 'stolen generation'),

• giving the aborigines autonomy by setting up communities with all services and their own funded organizations (ATSIC _ ABORIGINAL AND TORRES STRAIT ISLANDER COMMISSION) to administer them and the infrastructure created (which were subsequently disbanded after widespread greed and empire building within their own communities meant their own people were in a poorer position)
• The following article sums up.... FORMER ATSIC chief Lowitja O'Donoghue has unleashed a furious attack on the disbanded body, claiming its male leaders were preoccupied with drinking, gambling and womanising.
  At a closed-door meeting in Adelaide yesterday, where indigenous leaders were hammering out how the successor to the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission should be constituted, Ms O'Donoghue said the organisation she headed for six years in the 1990s "supported the greedy, not the needy".
  ATSIC was a "joke" because decisions were made at casinos instead of the board table, its foundation chairwoman and one-time Australian of the Year said.
  "I am sick and tired of going to conferences and forums where gambling becomes the priority," she told stunned indigenous leaders, who were meeting to consider models for the new indigenous representative body promised by the Rudd Government.
  "In the afternoons there are empty seats all around the room because too many people are off gambling on horse races or poker machines," she said.
  "Aboriginal leaders have a major problem with drinking, smoking and using illicit drugs. The other big problem with indigenous men is they womanise too much -- they don't know how to curb their womanising behaviour.
  "It is something they enjoy, and it affects their decision-making as leaders."
  Ms O'Donoghue, 76, said last night it was the first time she had spoken out about the abuses of power she had witnessed in ATSIC, but she declined to repeat the criticism outside the closed session.
  "I did speak out very strongly but it was only for the ears of my people," she told The Australian.
  Ms O'Donoghue said that when she retired from ATSIC in December 1996, she had to have live-in security at her home.
  Ms O'Donoghue was the keynote speaker and received a standing ovation at the opening of the three-day conference yesterday. The media were banned from the room while she addressed the 100 delegates, who had been selected to debate ideas on what the replacement body for ATSIC should look like.
  The organisation was abolished in 2005 by the Howard government, amid heavy criticism of the alleged excesses of some of its male leaders. One of Ms O'Donoghue's successors as ATSIC chair, Geoff Clark, was in 2007 found by a civil jury to have led two gang rapes in 1971 of a teenage girl, who was awarded $20,000 in damages for pain and suffering. Mr Clark denied involvement in the attacks.
  Former ATSIC deputy chair "Sugar" Ray Robinson was found to have gambled nearly $5million over a three-month period between 2000 and 2002, after Ms O'Donoghue's retirement, racking up the equivalent of $5300 a day in wagers at Conrad Jupiters Casino.
  Last year, he was found guilty of using his former ATSIC position for an improper purpose by a District Court jury in Toowoomba. He was placed on a good-behaviour bond and ordered to repay $45,000 to the commonwealth Government, after it was found he had used money from the unauthorised 2004 sale of taxpayer-funded vehicles to fund legal proceedings he was involved in.
  Last night, indigenous leader and human rights lawyer Hannah McGlade, an ATSIC employee in the late 1990s, said Dr O'Donoghue's recollections sounded "about right".
  "I remember it being something like a men's club," she said. "There was a lot of that culture, a lot of drinking. They lay on the grog ... then we would get sexual harassment (allegations) the next day. It was a hard environment."
  Federal Indigenous Affairs Minister Jenny Macklin told yesterday's forum she wanted to see the new representative group established by year's end. "I'd like to see it done as quickly as possible," Ms Macklin said.
  She has asked Aboriginal Social Justice Commissioner Tom Calma to advise on an interim body which could run from mid-2009 until the permanent representation model is ready.
  But she issued a warning to the delegates in Adelaide that mistakes of the past would not be allowed to happen again.
  "We've already ruled out another ATSIC," she said. "We do want to make sure we get it right this time."
  Ms O'Donoghue told the session she no longer believed in an ATSIC-style elected body.
  "Prime minister Paul Keating used to ring me and say the Aboriginal affairs minister Robert Tickner was crying again in cabinet," delegates quoted her as saying. "We had three ministers, Gerry Hand, Robert Tickner and Dr John Herron. We used to refer to them as Gerry Hand, Jerry Lewis and Geriatric.
  "I don't believe in a democratically elected representative body for indigenous people. It doesn't work because of nepotism.
  "I knew exactly what decision was going to be adopted at the ATSIC meetings because they had been decided at the casino.
  "In any new body, Torres Strait Islander people should be separated from Aboriginals. They are favoured by state and federal governments and that is reflected in the amount of money they get.
  "The Torres Strait Islanders should have an independent statutory organisation similar to Norfolk Island. I also believe a major problem with ATSIC was there was a conflict because it had to serve two masters, the government and the people.
  "ATSIC got too close to government at the United Nations, and at the UN we should have an independent seat separate from the Australian government," Ms O'Donoghue said.
  "The new representative body should be a political lobby group. It should not replicate the Black Power groups of the 1960s and 1970s and the National Tribal Council where they just believed that 'black is beautiful' and their chant was 'Breed, baby, breed'. Those groups undermined good white people involved in fighting for the 1967 referendum."
  While Mr Calma, who is leading the three-day workshop to formulate potential models, said there were lessons to be drawn from ATSIC, he did not condemn the former body's failings as strongly as did Ms Macklin.
  When asked how Australians could be sure they wouldn't get another ATSIC, he responded, "Why does the Australian public need to be assured that that's not going to happen?"
• The culture of sexual abuse of children is so bad that the government has intervened. "The 'Little Children are Sacred' Report detailed the shocking extent of child abuse and family violence in indigenous communities in the Northern Territory and alcohol abuse that is fuelling the situation. The magnitude of the problem has been known for some time and while there have been some attempts to address it, this has been clearly insufficient. The Taskforce recognises the urgent need for immediate intervention to lay the foundations for a longer term effort and ongoing commitment".

• Alcohol is the major destination of the welfare cheque each fortnight, and a corresponding increase in violence, murder, rape, burglary, antisocial behaviour occurs. The response has been to (in particularly bad in areas such as Halls Creek), to ban alcohol sales in an effort to stem this. The result has been that they journey to other communities to obtain the beer or move en masse to secure a regular supply.

This article conveniently ignores the fact that government funded housing that has been built for the communities is destroyed by the very people it is built for, or the brand new Toyota Landcruisers that are stripped or sold for more beer.... the list goes on.

Our government is at least trying to address the issue and finding solutions for a part of our community that has wasted hundreds of millions of dollars over generations. As we speak our government is trying to find yet another method to try....

If you really want to pontificate and judge our country about the INTERVENTION, take the time to read the report 'Little children are sacred' (all 320 pages of it) that has caused it, set out your solution to our government and get involved.

J

[Ldiggs910]

Relax dude. "Shame on you" is simply an expression. I am not shaming you or me, nor pointing fingers. I'm simply suggesting that the fact that Native Americans and Aborigines have been relegated to the most desolate, resource-less regions of a 1st world country, basically sweeping them under the rug, IS A SHAME.

I applaud the Australian Gov't for their efforts. And the US as well. But it doesn't change the current state of affairs nor history.

It's almost like you're saying "too bad about what happened in the past, but it wasnt me that did it so oh well".