The Anger And Stress Of Invasion Day Goes Far Beyond January 26

The dawn of a new year is a relief for a lot of people, finally able to release the stress that year-end deadlines and Christmas can bring. The chance to let go of the drama from the past year and start fresh.

But not for everyone: the closer January looms the more stressful it becomes for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, knowing that January comes with a celebration of genocide, devastation, and colonisation. Knowing that we’ll be flooded with images and news bulletins about celebrating the date and often receiving racist vitriol for suggesting that there’s no pride in genocide.

While January brings a chance for a fresh start for non-Indigenous folk, for us it brings more of the same: no justice, no peace. The lead up to the 26th is exhausting because you can’t escape it. Shops start putting their ‘Australia Day’ paraphernalia out the moment Christmas is over and the number of southern crosses you see increases as the date grows closer and closer.

I walked into my local Woolies to grab period supplies but had to pass green and gold thongs, hats, stickers and flags on my journey. It’s the same grocery chain that gives their workers Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander pins to wear and provides free NAIDOC week posters. Kind of gross to try and play both sides.

On my way to and from work, I see electronic billboards with ads that are pro-Australia Day, claiming that we’re “all part of the story”. This is obviously false because if we were part of the story the general teaching of Australian history wouldn’t be white-washed and there would be the correct amount of Aboriginal languages still around today.

It’s More Than Just A Date

In typical coloniser fashion, the 26th was a date initially observed as a day for mourning for Aboriginal people (officially titled so in 1938) but later became co-opted by “Australia” in 1994 for a public holiday celebrating the atrocities that this colony was founded upon. This is a simple part of history many don’t know, so fools respond to our cries for change or abolition of the holiday with “It’s just a date!” Funny that when we’re upset it’s “just a date”, but when people boycott it there are cries of how it should be respected.

It’s more than just a date though — it’s not only one you stole from us, it’s the day on which you celebrate the damage you’ve done here, that you rub in our faces. The “it’s just a date rhetoric” completely downplays the trauma and abuse Indigenous people of this country have experienced for 250 years. “It’s just a date”, but this date and your celebration of it is symbolic and represents the mistreatment of our peoples. Mistreatment that continues today.

While January brings a chance for a fresh start for non-Indigenous folk, for us it brings more of the same: no justice, no peace.

All this date has ever been is mourning and pain. Every time it comes around, we mourn. We mourn the loss of languages that should be our mother tongues, the loss of land that should’ve been respected, the loss of culture that we should’ve been able to live by, the loss of children who were forcibly removed, the loss of family members who were murdered by the same systems that are supposed to serve and protect.

And as you go through this world you have to duck and weave as people claim it isn’t that big of a deal.

Even just thinking about how I’m going to spend the day is tiring and mentally exhausting. Every single year without a doubt, we show up. We march and yell and fight for better. I have (Blak) friends that find marching too emotionally draining and so they give their time and effort in other ways like donating and advocating.

To be honest, this year I’m scared to march. And that itself brings the guilt of not physically showing up, wondering if I’m doing enough and wondering if by not being in Musgrave Park I’m laying down and condoning it. This is mental work that no other group of people need to worry about.

I remember going through school and the first unit in the year was often focused on “Australian” history. Of course, it wasn’t truthful and didn’t include colonisation and massacres. I remember sitting awkwardly as teachers and fellow students praised the “settlers”, with way too many classmates claiming to have a relative on the first fleet. It’s violent to force Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander kids to endure a white-washing of their own history and give them colouring in pages of Union Jack printed flags and southern crosses.

These events don’t go away either, they stay and follow you through life and eventually people start demanding emotional labour from you too. Before I started writing I would have people reach out to me and ask the most effective way for them to show their allyship around Invasion Day. I see it happen in real-time to my friends too, or on various social media websites asking Indigenous peoples for their advice and input on what to do. It’s not that we don’t appreciate the effort but, why not try Google first? There are resources out there about how to be a better person, or be a more effective ally, and it doesn’t require you to DM or tag the only Blak person you’ve ever met and demand their time and spoons.

Comment sections and story replies for those who speak out are filled with racist vile rhetoric, as white Australians pretend they invented the wheel. Additionally, there’s always the chance that you’re friends with a closet racist, as people share their pictures and videos from their parties (but they posted a black square that one time so I guess it’s ok?).

It’s Simply More Of The Same

It’s worth mentioning that this year no one’s living it up and we’re all feeling dreadful but people will still be cracking cold ones and having a barbecue because a stupid meat advert told them to.

There’s so much privilege, especially in the current climate, to put aside everything and have a party. There’s hypocrisy in the way that people are angry at the government’s handling of COVID, stating they’re letting citizens down, while still gearing up to celebrate and defend the date.

We mourn the loss of languages that should be our mother tongues, the loss of land that should’ve been respected, the loss of culture that we should’ve been able to live by…

We can’t just start every year new and fresh because we’re still carrying the traumas from one year ago, from five years ago, from 250 years ago. Each 26th comes with new challenges and problems that we’re fighting to get fixed.

This year it’s the false occupation of the Tent Embassy and the genocidal silence on COVID in Aboriginal communities. All the while we’re still fighting against oil companies, deaths in custody, waiting for someone to give a damn about our kids that go missing — and we’re still pissed about colonisation in general.

There’s nothing happy or new about January, it’s simply more of the same and becomes increasingly barbaric the longer white Australia decides to party on.

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Bizzi Lavelle is a Wakka Wakka woman living on Quandamooka country. She is an educator, performer and writer who specialises in sociology, gender and sexuality and race based works.

Photo Credit: William West/Getty Images