Hello Soni,
What a beautiful custom of the Aboriginals to let the grandmother teach the granddaughter about womanhood. Of course, was my first reaction, she does not only has more distance she has a lot more experience too. I am a grandmother myself so when the time comes I'll pay attention to this. Thank you!
You also remembered me of the fact that I do not know the name of my greatgrandmother.
Greetings,
Otteline van Zuilekom-Lamet
daughter of Maria
granddaughter of Feike
Soni Stecker heeft op vrijdag, 29 aug 2003 om 04:44 (Europe/Amsterdam) het volgende geschreven:
I'm still mulling over the genealogy article and our Western culture's need for finding our roots to recover our lost sense of belonging and fragmented sense of self...<image.tiff>
Phillip Adams' article on Aboriginal elder Maureen Watson's silent support of her granddaughter has brought back a memory:
At a conference, Aboriginal elder Nura Ward introduced herself thus: 'I am Nura, daughter of ..., granddaughter of ...' She said in Aboriginal culture it was customary to introduce yourself by honouring your ancestral lineage, your people and your place of origin.
She also said that in Aboriginal tradition it is the task of the grandmothers to teach girls about womanhood - not the task of the mothers. She elaborated that this was so because mothers were too involved with their daughters - grandmothers had the necessary wisdom to teach. (Nura Ward, Festival of Birth, November 2000)
Soni
daughter of Hanna
granddaughter of Catharina
great-granddaugther of Minna
on 28/8/03 7:38 AM, Chris Walsh at info@xxxxxxxxxxxxx wrote:
I writing to let you know I used part of the Philip Adams article in our last workshop. At the risk of stating the obvious I would like to point out 2 things:
1. The segment in blue below describes the situation a constellation facilitator often finds themselves in:
The child just stood there – and it
became clear that her silence wasn't stage fright so much as
emotional intensity. She really, desperately, wanted to tell us
something. She wanted it so much that she could barely breathe.
She managed a few words, then fell silent again. Every second
seemed like a minute and, yes, the minutes seemed like hours.
Somehow I knew it would be wrong to intercede – that any
paternalism on my part would be entirely inappropriate. More than
that, it would be symbolic of the relationship between black and
white in this nation for centuries.
Once again, a few sentences, then silence. Her hands clenched at
the lectern, she stood with closed eyes. Then something
extraordinary happened.
2. The next segment illustrates the importance of having the right person standing behind you - as we often see in constellations:
Then something
extraordinary happened. Maureen Watson, the Aboriginal elder
who'd performed the opening ceremony, rose from her chair and
walked v ery slowly, with great dignity, to the stage. She climbed
the three stairs and stood just behind the young woman.
Understand that she didn't speak to the child, not a word. And I
don't think she touched her. She just stood there, motionless,
sculptural. She was, literally, just there for her. And it was
enough. For soon the words were flowing
So thankyou Bubula
This piece was very educational as well as very touching.
hasta la vista
Chris Walsh
An Australian Constellation Website:
www.constellationflow.com
----- Original Message -----
From: "Bubula Lardi" <bubula@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
To: <ConstellationTalk@xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx>
Sent: Friday, 15 August 2003 4:29 PM
Subject: [ConstellationTalk] Humanity and Australia
Thanks Chris, I did appreciate that article on genealogy.
So not exactly in the same vein, I think Philip Adams summary on a
recent ageing conference in Brisbane is more food for thought for us who
are involved with Family Constellations. I would be very interested to
hear from anyone who has had indigenous people in their workshops -
particularly here in Australia. For those who don't know, Philip Adams
is a well known and often controversial journalist who regulaly writes
for "The Australian" - our national newspaper.
Bubula
The Australian
May 24, 2003
Phillip Adams: Greying, in black and white
I WANT to tell you about an experience that was at once harrowing
and inspiring. It occurred in a nondescript conference room in
the Brisbane Hilton, at a one-day gabfest organised by the
Queensland Government's Department of Families. The participants
were mainly bureaucrats dealing with the problems of ageing.
The minister wanted to encourage community debate on the ageing
of the population and the interconnected needs of all generations
so as to stimulate government policies and response. It was my
job to deliver a keynote address and be the "facilitator".
I attend a lot of conferences like this and, normally, there are
few surprises. Such affairs are ritualistic and rarely
revelatory. The proceedings tend to be soothing, allowing
appropriate pieties to be expressed, and everyone goes home tired
but happy.
On this occasion, things were different. First of all the papers
weren't half bad, emphasising the social dynamic that would
result from having a population of oldies who would become an
increasing burden on the public purse. We were told that perhaps
one in three young Australian women will live to 100 and get the
congratulatory telegram from Buck Palace. I was impressed by the
policy of improving intergenerational relationships, with bridges
of understanding being built between
young and old.
As is customary, the proceedings began with a 'Welcome to
Country' conducted by an Aboriginal elder. This came from Maureen
Watson, a 75-year-old woman whose dark skin was dramatised by her
prodigious mane of bright white hair. Although she spoke just a
few well chosens, you could see she was one wise old woman.
She was followed by a professional futurist – futurists are 21st
century soothsayers – w ho gave us a glimpse into the years ahead
that I, for one, found decidedly unattractive – full of
>references to "virtual immortality" made available either by
downloading or uploading our intellects so that we could dwell in
eternal cyberspace, as opposed to Heaven. He was followed by a
bloke who works with troubled youth at the coalface, who
contrasted the needs, aspirations and anxieties of the
young with those of us tottering towards the sunset.
I then asked Mundanara Bayles to take her turn at the lectern.
She was far and away the youngest person at the conference and
had been asked to contribute from "an indigenous perspective".
Prior to the session she'd been bubbling and enthusiastic. She'd
been working on her contribution for weeks and was looking
forward to delivering it. But, standing at the lectern, she fell
absolutely and utterly silent. She couldn't find the words at
all. As chair, this presented me with an urgent problem. Should I
make encouraging noises? Cross the small stage and lead her back
to the long table where the panellists sat. The atmosphere was
tense, and getting tenser. The child just stood there – and it
became clear that her silence wasn't stage fright so much as
emotional intensity. She really, desperately, wanted to tell us
something. She wanted it so much that she could barely breathe.
She managed a few words, then fell silent again. Every second
seemed like a minute and, yes, the minutes seemed like hours.
Somehow I knew it would be wrong to intercede – that any
paternalism on my part would be entirely inappropriate. More than
that, it would be symbolic of the relationship between black and
white in this nation for centuries.
Once again, a few sentences, then silence. Her hands clenched at
the lectern, she stood with closed eyes. Then something
extraordinary happened. Maureen Watson, the Aboriginal elder
who'd performed the opening ceremony, rose from her chair and
walked v ery slowly, with great dignity, to the stage. She climbed
the three stairs and stood just behind the young woman.
Understand that she didn't speak to the child, not a word. And I
don't think she touched her. She just stood there, motionless,
sculptural. She was, literally, just there for her. And it was
enough. For soon the words were flowing – and those who'd wanted
so much to hear them, who'd willed her to speak out, mightn't
have been so happy with what she had to say.
I can think of no better dramatisation of the benefits of
"intergenerational relationships". For Maureen is not only a
tribal elder from Mundanara?s people but, indeed, her
grandmother. We learned from Mundanara that her mother had died
very recently, in her mid-forties. So it wasn?t surprising that
the first thing she wanted to tell this roomful of white
professionals concerned with an ageing demographic was that her
people rarely get to be old. Her grandmother was, in effect, an
anomaly. The young woman talked of the death toll of Aboriginal
kids in their teens and early twenties, from sniffing glue,
petrol, paint, anything that dulls the pain. Where the white
experts talked about great leaps in longevity, she spoke of a
people so ravaged by despair and disadvantage and diabetes and
kidney failure that they were lucky to make it to 30. "You're
talking about superannuation policy for your people," Mundanara
said. "Superannuation is irrelevant to indigenous people. We
don?t live that long." Then she talked about the cards that
pensioners get that save them money on public transport. With a
little irony she reminded us that such benefactions are
irrelevant to Aboriginal people for the same reason: "We're dead
by then."
When she'd finished her overwhelmingly powerful presentation, I
thanked her in a voice somewhat croaky with emotion. And I told
her not to worry about her silences – they'd been more eloquent
than her words. Pretty soon she'll b e talking loud and clear on
behalf of her people. And you don't have to be a futurist to
predict that she'll make an enormous contribution as a new
Lowitja O'Donoghue or Marcia Langton.
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