BOB RANDALL

     Many of you who know me, know of my inner turmoil--living in a culture that brutalizes the environment and life in general while trying to justify my own existence and participation in this cruel and inhuman society. This whole problem was spelled out and resolved for me when I attended a speech given by Bob Randall, or Kurunpa Malpa, in January of 1998. Bob Randall is an Aboriginal elder and director of the Aboriginal Cultural Awareness Program at the Institute of Aboriginal Development in Alice Springs.
     It was what he said about his life as well as his deeply serious and loving manner that most affected me. He began with a description of his early childhood, which lasted for seven years, beginning with his birth as a "smoked" bush child. He grew up with a loving family that extended far beyond the normal white culture's nuclear family of just the biological mom and dad with possible brothers and sisters. He enjoyed the love and comradeship of grandparents, uncles and aunts, and what we would call godparents and their relatives. Actually, the whole clan was an integral part of his early education, which included for the most part ceremonies that taught the ultimate respect for everything in his environment. Bob Randall spoke of old men that weren't even biologically related to him that would have taken a spear in the chest to protect him. These old men talked in three levels of languages, with the third level being spoken only to the creators of whatever area the clan might be passing through or near. His house was the natural environment that was close to Uluru, or Ayer's rock; his roof was the sky, his walls were the horizon in all directions, his floor and his bed was the ground. He and his family wore no clothing because they were part of the earth and wanted to enjoy the cool breeze, the warming sun, or the cold rain on all parts of the body. He and his family would travel from ceremony to ceremony further enhancing their connection to the environment and to each other. This to him was an extremely important concept to get across--that by acting and doing something reverently and respectfully with others, one grows stronger spiritually,and one will more naturally do the "right thing."
     When he was seven years old, he was stolen by either missionaries or government officials. I suppose it doesn't matter which, because either way the government was supporting the education and "welfare" of the Aboriginal population, feeling that the best way to "educate" them would be to take them away from their natural upbringing and beat into them the "correct" godly ways. So he lived in a dormitory style set-up for several years. Imagine growing up as part of the land and suddenly being separated from it and your loved ones--who not only loved you but who had never been beyond earshot of you! He later found out that his ear splitting wailing could be heard by his clan every night for the first five years after he was taken. He was forced to wear clothes--cutting off the life giving air. He was forced to sleep on a bed--separating him from his beloved earth. He was forced to stay within four square walls--separating him from the natural world. He was forced to go to church to learn about "God" and "Jesus"-- which sounded good, but why wouldn't these people ever invite him in to eat with them.
     He eventually came to understand that the missionaries were well-meaning and really did care about him, so he learned not to hate the white man for what he did. He even went on to become quite a "citizen" in the white man's world--getting a college education and two Masters degrees. He is a man who really has no regrets. Today, he works directly with the Australian government as an extremely articulate liaison to the Aboriginal interests.
     When he talked of being part of nature, I could feel the joy beam right out of him. Long forgotten childhood memories of my own came back--when I would sit in fields close to my house for several hours, just feeling the breeze on my face and being a part of nature. Memories of going to the mountains for the first time and noticing everything on a level beyond just "oh that's a tree, that's a creek", but rather seeing the shiny glittering substances that makes up every tree, rock, branch, trickle of water. Then, having to get back inside four walls, or into that metal box that we call a car, or being scolded for spacing out. I realized that Bob Randall and all of the Aboriginals on this planet are just like us. We suffer the same abuse by our society that they do. The difference is that as a culture, they act on that knowledge. Maybe we know better too, but our culture won't let us drop these things that separate us from our world and each other.
     Bob had an answer to this problem. He said, "It starts with those that you love. You practice real love and respect with them. You must slow down and give them time. Notice everything and become involved. Then, you spread out from there. If you really open up to everyone you meet, pretty soon your whole community becomes like that of an Aboriginal community. He was opening his arms wide and his face gleamed with tears. If everyone really cares, then eventually everyone will learn to love and respect the world. This had such a profound effect on me that I openly wept along with another woman I'd never met, while we hugged one another tightly for several minutes. Today, I know that something is different.

Dave Crowder