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manhood
When I first met Peter he said,
‘I claim you, boy.’ I didn’t really
know what he was talking about.
A year later or so on another trip
he claimed me. He said, ‘I will be
your father. I will be piepa.’ With
all the other elders there he made
his statement. They all named
their places where they were in
my life. It was 1984; I knew what
it meant.
Peter is impeccable to me as
a father. I do what he says. In
Aboriginal culture there is jilli
binna. It means look and listen.
There is no mouth in it, just be
quiet and look and listen and learn
by watching.
Talking straight up about it,
my birth father was a violent man,
angsty man. Ain’t no shit about
it. He made up for that before
he passed away. In some way he
had remorse and apologised as
he got older. I got some understanding
and we parted — he left
this planet and then Peter Costello
(Makrrnggal) claimed me. And I
had this other father. In Aboriginal,
this is my brother, they’re not like
my brothers, they are my brothers.
This man is not like my father, he
is my father — it’s a big difference.
I am his son. This father of
mine is such a gentle, kind man
you know. His traditions, his
Aboriginality, shines — his connections
to the land. He’ll sit out
on the verandah and laugh his
head off — ‘Ha-ha the birds are
having a funny talk.’ I sat down
and listened with him and we
both started laughing, listening to the
birds talk. That simple little thing, he
got me listening, taking notice of the
birds. It was so beautiful, sitting there
with my dad listening and laughing
with the birds, joining in their joy — so
beautiful.
I had to apologise to my birth father
after he died, because he said he was
sorry just before he died. I didn’t say
sorry to him. I was violent to my father.
You know how I was violent? When
my father said I was a good father, you
know what I said? ‘Yeah I never hit
him once.’ I didn’t say, ‘Thanks, dad,
I’m trying.’ I’d have liked to have had
the softness in my heart to have said,
‘Thanks, dad, I am trying to come from
love.’ I was violent in a different form
— I didn’t allow him to love me like he
wanted to. I wouldn’t let him.
I saw him bash the shit out of my
byronchild 40
What Makes it
Alright
For Zac
I don’t need to hold you
I don’t need to kiss you
I don’t need to feel your
warm embrace
I don’t need you to fill
an empty space
I just need to know
You’re okay
So
I do my best, to let it
flow
And try not to let
The injury show
And what makes it
alright
Is
You know
Wayne Armytage 1987
mother, my sister, my brother. I held
him up against the wall and said, ‘You
punch them again, I’ll kill ya! There’s
no doubt about it, I’ll kill ya!’ And he
knew I meant it. That was the end of
the violence. That’s not such a good
ending, there should be a better ending
than that. This is a son being a father…
he should do that. My family thought it
was excellent, but it was devastating. I
remember crying. I’m glad I did it.
I was 24 — it was very painful.
I have a family officially of about
two thousand — somewhere around
that — and I know most of them are
Wiradjuri (inland NSW, the other side
of Tamworth). People know where they
come from. I defy to meet a gorri person
who doesn’t know where he comes
from. I am Kukuthaypan, that’s Peter’s
mob — people of the snake.
See the ground out there (gesturing)?
That’s my fire. We sit around the fire; we
talk. I have a different paradigm,
it’s a very hard thing to explain:
I am a blackfella; I have a black
heart.
I saw both my sons birthed. It
was such a miracle for me; I didn’t
know what to do. So I wrote my
first son a letter to him imagining
he was twelve years old. Any passion
or any determination I had in
me for a better world, it was now
twenty-fold, thousand-fold, million-fold.
I wanted the world to be
a better place.
My youngest son, his question
to me is, ‘We’re really Aboriginal,
Dad, aren’t we? Anthony Mundine,
he’s my uncle isn’t he?’ ‘Yeah.’
‘Peter, my grandfather, yeah.’ He
goes to a community school and
he is the only goori kid there, you
know. He is blonde haired and
blue eyed and he identifies as an
Australian. We have blackfellas
visiting here, locals, and in some
way it will hit home. He questions:
how does this work? How is this
different? We’re not having fires in
the house; what does it mean to be
Aboriginal?
I am successful, that can be rare
— there should be more of it. It is
because of the inequalities. I left
school at fourteen, I haven’t had
an education; I got it later on in
life. My sons have the benefits that
most mainstream whitefellas have,
a nice house, doesn’t have a father
who drinks, you know, whatever
it might be, the stereotypes, it’s not
just black — we have a very nice,
functional, loving family.
I made the typical baby boom error
and went out to save the world and left
my son at home. I was very passionate
about a lot of issues and I was one
of those people who looked around at
the end of the issues and my son was
standing there needing me. So then my
approach changed.
So fathers evolve, just like mothers
do, just like people do. As you evolve I
think it is important to express that evolution
in some way. My sons and I are all
very close. For me as a father letting go
is still one of the greatest things you can
do — especially making sure the person
is ready to be let go.
And when they are ready to go — let
them go with love.
Wayne Armytage, of the Wiradjuri clan, is a
poet and philosopher and lives in Mullumbimby,
Australia with his family.