In addition to poor diet, the mission attempted to destroy our society in other ways. My mother died in hospital from double pneumonia. She wasn’t actually in  hospital, because she was not put into the general ward but had to be placed out on the verandah. There was a storm and she got wet and died. She had just given birth to a child. At the McLean picture theatre, we had to come in when the lights went out, leaving before the lights came on. We never saw the beginning or the ending of  any picture show. We were barred from going out into the main street at a particular time. If you tried on any garment in the shop and it came close enough to touch your skin, then you had to  buy it whether it fitted or not.

I thought white people knew what was going on. In later years, I have spoken to people who didn’t know an Aboriginal person or who had never met any Aboriginal people. They say: ‘We didn’t know that system existed.’ The people in power kept the media and the public ignorant of what was happening. That is the great tragedy  But today there is a chance for Aboriginal people to be heard, expressing their views. Aboriginal people want a say, and are speaking out so that the public knows what went on.

I hated the times we were spoken down to on the mission. I understood English enough to understand what they said. The school teacher made comments about us when the inspector visited. He would prepare the children to be on their best behaviour. Some of the kids would remain silent because there were two authorities present instead of the teacher alone. The teacher didn’t get the response from some of the kids that he probably should have. I was nine, 10, 11-years-old. He would say: ‘You can’t teach them anything because they can’t be taught.’ That ‘they’ were ‘dumb’. This is what he had ‘sacrificed himself for’, and this is ‘what he has to put up with’ was his attitude. Even at that early stage I was questioning.

As I grew older I met and made friends who take others for the people they are. Now that I am over 50, I am enjoying life: not that I did not earlier (apart from my young years on the mission), but I am pleased that there have been positive changes in the community, on Aboriginal issues. Because in the early 1960s, when I moved to Sydney for the second time and took a job as a bookbinded somewhere in Broadway, I began my involvement with organisations working for Aboriginal rights. From 1959 to the mid-1970s I was a member of the Federal Council for the Advancement of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders (FCAATSI).

I met people who influenced me, such as Pastor Doug Nicholls, Pearl Gibbs, Bert Groves, then a  member of the New South Wales parliament and Di Graham, who was involved in education of Aboriginal people. Grace Bardlsey became a very close friend. In my earlier twenties, these people and others like them gave me an apprenticeship in Aboriginal affairs. Many white people and Aboriginal people became aware of the need for dramatic changes. One campaign was the 1967 referendum, leading to the counting of Aboriginal people in the national census.

Grace Bardsley helped me when I came to Sydney. I had been there in 1958 training as a nurse. But my aunt died and I returned to the mission to care for my brothers and sisters. Grace found me a place to stay and enrolled me in night school. That was the beginning not only of my general education but getting a job.

Many people around my age at the mission suffered from lack of educational qualifications. When I returned with my nursing qualifications, the mission took the credit. When I met Grace and Pearl Gibbs and Faith Bandler, Jack and Jean Horner, Len and Mona Fox, Di Graham and Mary Gilmour, I was able to make use of real opportunities. They were invovled in national issues, social issues, Land Rights, health issues, counselling, and I became involved.

That is 30 years ago. There still have to be changes, otherwise our people’s problems will become so dramatic that racism will widen further the gap between Aboriginal and white society. Despite that, when I look back I see that slowly Aboriginal people are taking their place in this society. Even organisations have changed, so that where once they were dominated by white people, Aboriginal people are in control.

People have to stand up and make changes. Speaking out is dependent on the freedom to express ourselves. Otherwise nothing changes, nothing will happen.

I still find it difficult to understand that people around my age do not know what we went through. Racism is both covert and overt. Some things are obvious;  others are not so easily seen. The churches became part of the system that held Aboriginal people down, and attempted to destroy the ceremonies and essence of Aboriginal life …

In the 1960s I was nominated to the Asian Christian Youth Assembly and it was in the Philippines that I met Colin Clague. The partnership I have had with him has been a good one. Some of my Aboriginal family are fairly difficult. Colin has always been open and sharing, and so has our house. He has supported me in all my endeavours in Aboriginal affairs, attending endless conferences and meetings. This support has grown with the years.

At the fairly tender age of 13 or 14 I said to my grandfather (in our language), when they talked-down to him: ‘Gee I hate these white people, what they do. Why don’t you tell them off.’ He replied: ‘Buttyn ytagar.’ ‘Don’t say that about those Yirrala.’ ‘Nar, nar’. ‘ ‘Don’t say they’re mad, don’t say that sort of thing about them.’

His words have been a lasting influence. ‘You can hate what they are doing, but don’t hate the people, or the person, because hate will eventually destroy you. If you have hate inside here, if you have hate for white people, you will destroy yourself.’

The words of my grandfather remained with me through my growing-up years. But for that, I think I would hate white people. I think I would be bitter and violent towards white people for what they have done. I lived with my mother, my father, aunties, uncles, sisters, brothers on the mission and saw what went on. So many events I cannot speak of. But my grandfather pulled me back, so that I would not waste my energy on the negatives and would always look forward.

I am, and I’m staying to the end of the picture show.

Joyce Clague (c) 1993

To give Aboriginal people a voice in politics and parliaments around Australia, in 1968 Joyce Clague stood as an independent for the Legislative Assembly of the Northern Territory;  her campaign resulted in 6500 Aboriginal people being enrolled to vote, whereas previously only 58 or 59 were on the Alice Springs roll. In the 1980s she stood for Australian Labor Party (ALP) preselection for a seat in the New South Wales lower house and as a senator. She served as a staunch member of the Australian Republic Movement.

This is an extract from ‘Staying to the End’ published in Glorious Age – Growing Older Gloriously, 1993, Artemis Publishing, Melbourne, Australia (Jocelynne A. Scutt, ed.).