Anita HeissReseñas

Superb although, perhaps in a very real sense, dated by its choice of focus.

This anthology accompanies the larger Macquarie PEN Anthology of Australian Literature and it is a worthy decision to give Aboriginal Literature its own volume entirely. The power of the material contained herein is at times overwhelming. Heiss and Minter collect letters and speeches given from the early 19th century through to the middle of the 20th century, with more focus on traditional "literature", i.e. poetry and fiction, in the second half of the 20th century. (Until at least WWII, Aboriginal Australians were essentially wards of the state, requiring permission to marry and get employment, often having their wages given directly to their state overseer to protect them, and routinely having children taken from their families to be raised in white households, the famous Stolen Generation. As a result, there were really only two or three "literary" Indigenous writers until late in the last century.)A

What is most poignant for me personally, as a white Australian who grew up in the 1990s, is how few of these voices were taught to me at school or in my broader social education. The manifestos that were shared back in 1938, Australia's sesquicentenary, have an awful lot in common with modern Indigenous demands - yet a lot of people today feel as if these arguments are new! There has been a blank space in Australian history, or at least a hazy one, and this anthology helps rectify that. Every writer here is of interest, with the final inclusion - Tara June Winch - being a perceptive one: at the time she had recently published a debut work; a decade later, she is widely considered one of our best novelists.

Of course, all anthologies delight and frustrate, sometimes in equal measure. It's understandable that this volume takes the "Cultural Studies" approach to literature - i.e. widening the scope to include letters, autobiography, and manifestos - because, as mentioned above, due to historic injustices it would have been hard to find enough writers otherwise. Additionally, since much of the Aboriginal experience has been one of fighting daily oppression, it makes sense that a compilation of lived experiences, many told with wit and insight, is an effective way to render this ancient, oral culture on the page. It is slightly sad, but understandable, that the editors choose to omit the many traditional songs which were collected in the first half of the 20th century by passionate white anthropologist-poets such as Roland Robinson. But as these songs were transmitted through white hands and white minds, it is fair to say many of them do not represent a true experience, in much the same way as the beautiful translations of Chinese poetry by Ezra Pound and his contemporaries are poetic wonders in their own right, but not a very useful insight into the depths of genuine Chinese art.

In terms of "canonical" Aboriginal writers, the only notable omission for me is the late Colin Johnson, aka Mudrooroo. A powerful voice between the 1960s and 1980s, Mudrooroo's legacy was shattered when questions were raised about his Aboriginality. It is now generally considered that he was mistaken in his self-identification with Aboriginal Australia, although more critical voices accuse him of outright fraud. With the author's death, this controversy has subsided, and the editors make glancing reference to him in the introduction when - without citing his name - they indicate they have omitted authors who are "in dialogue with local communities regarding ancestry and identity".

I do think, though, that this anthology perhaps does the same as many modern anthologies; it sands off the rough edges. There aren't really any voices from the more conservative side of Aboriginal life, those who do not agree with the mainstream movement. Additionally some of the most progressive, radical voices of recent years also seem to miss out, those who perhaps make white people uncomfortable rather than just acknowledging the plight. With such a groundbreaking publication, which has the ability to fall into the hands of ignorant people like myself and awaken us to the realities of the last 230 years, it is completely understandable that the editors chose to sand off the spiky edges. Here's hoping that this anthology will have many future editions, and that with time it will be allowed as much complexity and nuance as the best anthologies should.

This is an Australian rural romance by Wiradjuri woman Anita Heiss. She takes the city girl meets cowboy staple and adds a few twists of her own.

Sassy and smart art curator Annabelle has just started running with her safe, reliable neighbour Michael when she and her tiddas (sisters) go on a road trip to the rodeo. She and CJ, MJ and Angel get dressed up in boots, akubras and blingey jeans and head out for an adventure. For Annabelle the adventure starts when she meets hot Indigenous cowboy Dusty. Despite all the warnings her friends give her that he has nothing in common with her sophisticated artsy city lifestyle, her pulse is racing and she is captivated. Do opposites really attract or will her friends prove right?

This was a short and light chic-lit romance. I loved the banter and friendship between the woman, and the uniquely warm and joyful blackfella humour. This felt like it could easily be the start of a series exploring the other girls’ stories also. The audio narration was excellent. My only complaint was it finished too quickly and the frequent references to veganism and animal liberation seemed slightly at odds with a book enjoying a rodeo romp. I wondered whether this was just part of the trend of modern books to need to tick as many issues on the list as possible to seem woke enough and to pacify all the haters. I also felt the cowboy was clearly portrayed through a city lens, in a kind of exotic but boorish way, which made me a little sad.

Overall an enjoyable easy read and wonderful to have some Indigenous romances out there, hopefully she will write more!

Representation: First Australian character
Trigger warnings: Racism

6.5/10, after reading a quite a realistic book to say the least I was hoping that I would enjoy this historical/realistic book and I keep coming back to this genre with mixed results and though I enjoyed this I just wanted more from it, like something was missing from it that made me drop this to 3 stars, where do I begin. It starts off with the main character Mel Gordon who is a First Australian living her normal life in the year 2000 when the Sydney Olympics were just around the corner. Also only a few pages later Cathy Freeman comes to her school and she wants to be an athlete in the future and that was a nice part of the book however there are a few things she has to do first. The story takes a turn when it mentions the Stolen Generations and how Australia still has to reconcile for what they did to First Australians and that was a nice message but I felt that was a bit disjointed and the book couldn't decide whether it was about racism or athletes but as far as I know it's both which I struggle to wrap my head around. In the end there was a character who said racist things to Mel and they were called out for it and that ends the book which is quite a mixed bag. On the plus side it's authentic so there's that.

Brilliant. Deserves all the awards. Would read again.

Quite an informative history of life for a young aboriginal woman, and aboriginal stockmen, in the 1800s when white settlers were taking up the land and establishing grazing properties. How they used the indigenous people.

I didn't enjoy the sense of menace - a grim inevitability of cruelty to the characters we were following.

Which is most of the reason why I didn't continue past Part 4 of 9 Parts.

This is a simply told tale of the destruction of Wiradjuri life in the Gundagai-Wagga Wagga regions.

Wagadhaany is a servant girl on a cattle run near Gundagai, who is forced to live apart from her clan while working there. After a flood that takes many lives, she moves with her masters to Wagga Wagga, where she is even more isolated, eventually meeting the Wiradjuri man she “marries.”

Her master marries a Quaker widow, Louisa, whose values means that Wagadhaany is regarded as a friend rather than just a servant, though she continues to be required to serve anyway.

Anita Heiss uses many Wiradjuri words throughout the book, making it a living language.

The values and attitudes are contrasted between the mainstream whites, the Quakers and the indigenous people.½

A fairly straightforward plot, transformed by its perspective as told through the eyes of a girl indentured to a settler family. It is this authorial point of view that inverts and exposes the clash of cultures. Two women, one from an ancient indigenous culture, and another from a world-conquering culture created by its industrial revolution, form a friendship.

Their struggle to convert friendship into understanding exposes their unconscious racism to the reader, if not to themselves. A true, tragic and necessary book for our present time.

(7.5)This was a pleasant enough story. The opening event of the flood provided pace and tension. However, I didn't feel the writer achieved an authenticity of voice. The information about the lives of the early colonial settlers and their impact on the aboriginal people, although interesting, lacked a certain grittiness in the telling. I did appreciate the consecutive timeline as I have read too many books recently that move forward and backwards in time but not successfully.
The use of the Wiradyuri language and the provision of a glossary was enlightening. I only wish I knew how to pronounce the words correctly. Although she was able to include in the text the correct pronunciation of Wagadhaany (Wogga-dine), the female protagonist within the story.

These stories are heartfelt and show how negative experiences can change you for the better as you grow to come to terms with your identity. It shows the struggles of acceptance, racism, and just growing up as an aboroginal.

Alice is the head of the history department at a Catholic Girls' school. After attending a school reunion where all her classmates are married with children and can talk of nothing else, she makes a plan to marry before she's thirty, in two year's time. The book is about her search for her future husband. There's a lot of tedious drinking, shopping and waxing, interspersed with some interesting insights into life as a middle-class Aboriginal woman. Being Aboriginal certainly adds a degree of difficulty to the man search, and there are some amusingly scathing caricatures of hypocritical white people who want to be Kooris, and establishment bigots. The book is disjointed and sometimes didactic, unfortunately.½

At times fascinating, thought-provoking, and repetitive, I vacillated between really enjoying this book, and determinedly reading to get to the other end. It took me quite some time to work out that the interwoven theme was not in fact the racial discrimination case that is discussed intermittently, but the personal and political aspects of identity. Lots to read, and a good book for consciousness raising. I intend to pass it to my teenage kids to read, as Heiss will do a much better job of explaining the issues than I will.

““There is no single or simple way to define what it means to grow up Aboriginal in Australia….”

I’m having such a hard time putting together a response to reading Growing Up Aboriginal in Australia. I have such a mix of emotions - I am angered, ashamed, sad, enlightened, inspired and hopeful.

Fifty contributors share their diverse experiences of growing up Aboriginal in Australia. They come from all over country, and are of varied ages, genders, sexual orientations, and socioeconomic class.

Yet there are commonalities in their stories -the weight of intergenerational trauma, the burden of stereotypes and racism, the struggle with identity, the desire to understand and embrace their culture, kin and country.

Though the quality of the writing can be uneven, the honesty of the authors stories are affecting and powerful. They are a generous invitation to learn and gain some understanding of what it is like to be a First Nations person growing up in Australia, both then and now.

“….it’s so obvious that underneath the invisible barriers and expectations we have constructed and placed on each other, we are all brothers and sisters; we are all just pink flesh and bone.”

An informative, thought-provoking, and moving anthology Growing Up Aboriginal in Australia is essential reading in the journey to create a new dialogue with and about Aboriginal Australians.

***WHO SUCKED ME IN***
I don't know how I stumbled upon this article: 8 FANTASTIC ROMANCE NOVELS BY INDIGENOUS AUTHORS but I'm really glad I did. Even though I have mixed feelings about looking for a specific thing in an author.

This one sounds like the main character knows what she wants and I'm all here for that.

Beautiful heartbreaking story. It painful to read about how the Australian government treated the Aboriginal people and their culture. It was also a good learning experience about the Japanese culture.

3,5

This rating is not for the stories in the book, but for how the book is compiled. I think this is an important book and the stories are wonderful. However, fifty stories are at least twenty-five too many for a book that is three hundred pages long. The stories are also a bit repetitive, and not the good kind of repetitive. Also, sorting all these stories alphabetically by surname was also a mistake, I think it would have been better to sort them by theme.

If you're going to read this book, and you should: do not try to read this book in one sitting. Just read one or two stories each day.

Anthology of essays, poems, articles and fragments from letters, stories and plays that provide a confronting, heartbreaking and fascinating insight into the modern history, culture and devastating impact the invasion of Australia had on Indigenous Australians.

The first Australian novel to be released with a title in Wiradyuri language, Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray, which translates to River of Dreams, is a novel of historical fiction based on true events from Anita Heiss.

When the Murrumbidgee River breaks its banks in 1852 it devastates the fledgling town of Gundagai, built too close to the water’s edge despite the warnings of the local Wiradyuri tribe. Only two members of the Bradley family survive and in the wake of the flood, they decide to start again in Wagga Wagga. Wagadhaany (Wog-a-dine), who has been in the service of the Bradley’s for four years, assumes this means she can return to her family, especially when the eldest brother takes a new bride, but instead she is forced to leave her country, and her miyagan to accompany them.

While Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray explores the universal themes of family, loss, love and belonging, it does so from the unique viewpoint of Wagadhaany, a young Wiradyuri woman. With courage and resilience Wagadhaany endures the cruel separation from her family, and her country, and the dehumanising policies of British colonisation towards First Nations people, finding love with a young Aboriginal stockman, but always yearning to return home.

Herself a proud member of the Wiradjuri Nation of central New South Wales, Heiss writes beautifully of Wagadhaany’s connection to country and family, of her respect for tradition and her pride in her people. I appreciated the insight into the traditional way of life for the First Nations people, and I particularly liked being introduced to the Wiradyuri language, which is easily decipherable through context (though there is a glossary in back if needed).

Through the characters of the Bradley family, Heiss illustrates the ignorant and arrogant treatment of the colonialists toward both the land and the aboriginal people. Their folly is laid bare by the floods, and their insistence on shaping the land to fit their needs. Heiss shows how even those who considered themselves well-intentioned, like James Bradley’s Quaker bride, Louise, advocated paternalism rather than genuine self-determinism.

If I’m honest I feel the writing is a little repetitive at times. Though it’s understandable Wagadhaany’s thoughts dwell on what she has lost and her unhappiness, the middle third of the book doesn’t really have much momentum. I found the love story between Wagadhaany and Yindyamarra engaging, and Wagadhaany’s journey home moving and poignant.

Stirring and edifying, Bila Yarrudhanggalangdhuray is a book that will speak to the hearts and minds of readers.

Australia for me has generally meant sun-baked vacations, family reunions, the coconut smell of sunblock, standing with my feet in the South Pacific, sandy-kneed, watching the sun go down. I have been here for work too, in the past, poking around two-bit mining towns in the middle of outback WA and drinking schooners of Toohey's New at makeshift bars lifted straight out of Slim Dusty songs; but even the most venerable cultural throwbacks here only point up a history of the last century or two at most. It's so, so easy to forget that human civilisation has been established here for tens of thousands of years.

In many areas, about the only visible sign of Australia's original inhabitants now are the placenames – strange, mostly incomprehensible words in forgotten languages with forgotten meanings. Near where most of my family live in Queensland there are all kinds of weird and wonderful towns which I love to say – Mooloolaba, Eumundi, Toowoomba – but usually when you ask what they mean, people just shrug. Occasionally one, better informed, might tell you that something means the place where two rivers meet – ‘in Aboriginal’. (The hundreds of Aboriginal languages can differ as much as English and Finnish.)

Round here, where I'm currently writing this, was the territory of the Gubbi Gubbi people, though I have never met or even seen one in the many years I've been coming. Indeed I've been told more than once that there are none left, which isn't actually true though it's easy to see why it could be believed. A highway near where my nephew goes to school is called Murdering Creek Road; see, there was a creek here, and all the Gubbi Gubbi nearby were murdered right along it…

The more you find out about all this, the more incredible this huge absence in Australian society seems. After a while, there is a tendency for the whole gigantic country to appear (as perhaps it should) as a vast extermination site – ‘Holocaust Island’, as the poet Graeme Dixon dubs it, a phrase that has stuck with me. The Aboriginals were poisoned, speared, shot; later, under more civilising influences, merely herded into trucks and dumped on reservations, far from white settlements, with families routinely and strategically split up in the process. Subsequent policies of ‘assimilation’ were, from a cultural point of view, just another kind of extermination, as Oodgeroo Noonuccal pointed out in the 60s:

Pour your pitcher of wine into the wide river
And where is your wine? There is only the river.

So it's understandable that Aboriginal writing basically constitutes a single-issue literature, with survival as the single issue. Originally physical survival, and subsequently cultural survival. The basic point has been eloquently expressed by generations of Aboriginal writers and is still being made.

You are the New Australians, but we are the Old Australians. We have in our arteries the blood of the Original Australians, who have lived in this land for many thousands of years. You came here only recently, and you took our land away from us by force. You have almost exterminated our people, but there are enough of us remaining to expose the humbug of your claim, as white Australians, to be a civilised, progressive, kindly and humane nation. By your cruelty and callousness towards the Aborigines you stand condemned in the eyes of the civilised world.
—William Ferguson & John Patten, 1938

The nature of this background means that a lot of what is in here stretches the definition of ‘literature’ slightly, and the early material in particular includes a lot of manifestos and legal claims of limited artistic effect or intent. Nevertheless, I found it very inspiring to have it all assembled here as a focused collection, and – by drawing attention to just how much is not talked about elsewhere – it's definitely made me rethink the way I see Australian literature.½

This book opened my eyes to something I knew almost nothing about, and it was fascinating. The editor states "There is no single or simple way to define what it means to grow up Aboriginal in Australia, but this anthology is an attempt to showcase as many of the diverse voices, experiences and stories together as possible." Hess did a remarkable job of providing the reader with a diverse group of aboriginal people with a range of experiences (and a good deal of shared experience.) I listened to this on audio, and hearing people tell their own stories really enhanced the experience.

Each piece here tells a unique story that highlights the differences in experience dictated by age, skin color, parental ties to aboriginal roots, and other factors. Some of the contributors grew up in European neighborhoods, and a few were adopted by white parents. One thing that did not seem to make much difference was economic standing, with more well off contributors facing much of the same flak as the less advantaged writers. As one would expect, some of the essays are better written than others, and more interesting, but all are deeply honest and informative. The stories, the writers often unconnected from one another, raise so many of the same themes. The pressure for fair aboriginals to "pass" as European was repeated. The racist comments of friends followed by "oh, I forgot you where here" or "I forgot you were aboriginal" seem so common. The high incidence of suicide in aboriginal communities appears to have touched most every contributor.

I was struck and disheartened by the similarities between the Australian aboriginal and the Native American and African American experience. The disrespect of native peoples, and the irrational import placed on skin color in the way people view one another is an international disgrace. This book illuminates that while educating on those things uniquely Australian. Exceptionally worthwhile.

One note, I dipped in and out of this and that worked well. I do not think this is the kind of book that is best consumed in one bite.

Thoroughly enjoyed this well-written book by Anita Heiss. Set in Cowra during WWII, it tells of a breakout from the Japanese prison camp and how one escapee finds himself at the Aboriginal mission, Erambie. This was the time when Aboriginal people were housed in enclaves with basic houses, no power or running water, a mission manager, and a lot of restrictions on what they could and could not do, including curfews. There was always the fear hanging over them that their children could be taken away if they didn’t keep their homes spotless and follow all the rules.
When one family finds the Japanese POW under their house they hide him in the bomb shelter at the bottom of their yard. He lives there for a year, his food brought to him by the 17-year old daughter of the house. There is always the danger that the gossipy neighbour will ‘dob them in’ but solidarity wins out. The restrictions of Japanese culture and family honour are compared to the restrictions of Aboriginal life. The daughter and POW fall in love but when the war ends, the POW returns home and both go on to lead their own separate lives. The manner of the POW ‘coming out’ is delightfully handled.

Having read Barbed Wire and Cherry Blossom, I was keen to read another of Anita Heiss’ books. Tiddas are girlfriends. This group of tiddas comprises two white and three Aboriginal women. They live in Brisbane but most of them grew up and went to school in a country town. One of the white women is married to an Aboriginal man, sister of one of the tiddas. The other is the recently separated wife of a doctor who is searching for her place in the world. All except the doctor’s wife are professional women in their own right, living the dream. The stories of each of the women and their problems, the support they provide each other, or not, makes for interesting reading.
I did feel that Tiddas came across as trying a little too hard to show how successful Aboriginal women would live. Clothes, food, homes, locations, professions are all described in detail. Tiddas has been referred to as Koori chick-lit, and as I don’t usually read chick-lit (being more of an old hen), this may be normal for the genre.
Overall, I did enjoy the well-written characters and storylines, and the description of Aboriginal community when the tiddas returned home for a funeral. I would read more of this author’s work.

This is a very important book with many eye-opening sections. Made up of submissions from a wide range of people, the common thread that ties these stories together is of growing up marked as 'other'. While this idea is one that will resonate with many readers (all childhoods include negotiating one's own identity), the harrowing pity of this work is that the writers, each with Aboriginal heritage, have been made to feel strangers in their own place, as if somehow they do not belong to the land that is so integral to their lives.
It's tough reading in parts.
Some of these stories will make you cry, some will make you shake your head, others might allow you a wry grin at a piece of irony or a bit of self-deriding humour. Overall, the collection struck me as more bleak than hopeful of a more inculsive future, but that may be more a reflection of my feelings about the world as we know it. Sad, striking, moving, instructive: this book would make wonderful reading in schools.
I'd recommend that you treat it a series of short stories that you can delve into now and then. En masse, the effect is rather overwhelming.

There is much to learn from this anthology, but if there’s one thing that stands out it’s the diversity of Aboriginal experience. The 50 contributors include voices from everywhere, and editor Anita Heiss pays tribute to the land first of all:
The stories cover country from Nukunu to Noogar, Wiradjuri to Western Errernte, Ku Ku Yalinji to Kunibídji, Gunditjamara to Gumbaynggirr and many places in between.
Experiences span coastal and desert regions, cities and remote communities, and all of them speak to the heart. (p.1)
These life stories comes from
… all around the country, including from boarding schools and even inside prison; and from schoolchildren, university students and grandparents. We also have recollections of growing up Aboriginal in Australia by opera singers, actors, journalists, academics and activists. In many ways this anthology will also serve to demonstrate how we contribute to, and participate in, many varied aspects of society every day. (p.2)
There are voices that I know because I’ve read their writing:
Tony Birch, an award-winning novelist and short story writer;
Terri Janke (who operates an Indigenous owned law firm but also wrote the first Indigenous novel I ever read, Butterfly Song;
Ambelin Kwaymullina (whose novel The Interrogation of Ashala Wolf I reviewed for #IndigLitWeek);
Celeste Liddle (whose Rantings of an Aboriginal Feminist I read online);
Jared Thomas who writes the kind of YA novels that adults like to read too;
Tara June Winch, an award-winning novelist and short story and of course
editor and author, Anita Heiss herself.
There are also famous names from other spheres of influence: Deborah Cheetham; Adam Goodes; and Miranda Tapsell – but when I turn to the back of the book I discover that all the contributors are doing awe-inspiring things with their lives, even 13-year-old Taryn Little, who knows that her ancestors would be proud of her, that her grandmother would have loved all her hard work and effort, that she is a strong young woman and that she makes her family proud.

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2018/07/21/growing-up-aboriginal-in-australia-edited-by...

Anita Heiss PhD is a versatile and prolific author: she is well-known as an author of non-fiction and social commentary, commercial women’s fiction (which she calls choc-lit), YA, children’s books, and poetry. She was co-editor with Peter Minter of the Macquarie PEN Anthology of Aboriginal Literature (2008) (see my review) and with the late Rosie Scott also co-edited The Intervention, an Anthology (2015) (see my review). I have also read and reviewed her splendid Am I Black Enough for You (2012). But I have never read her fiction, until now…

Heiss writes what she calls choc-lit with a purpose: writing to engage non-Indigenous Australians with light-hearted novels about people ‘just like herself’, modern independent women who have or want to have great careers, women who network within great friendships, women who fall in and out of love, and women who face challenges and have their share of loss, failure or success. The difference is that her novels include characters otherwise mostly invisible in Australian fiction: Indigenous women getting on with everyday life, just like they really do in everyday life. And as it says in the article at Precinct news, she subverts the chicklit agenda by weaving into her plots the issues that concern her and should concern all of us: Aboriginal literacy, black deaths in custody, human rights, infringements, and Indigenous artistic protocols. These novels include Tiddas (201); Paris Dreaming (2011); Manhattan Dreaming (2010); Avoiding Mr Right (2008); and her debut in this genre, Not Meeting Mr. Right (2007).

Her latest book, Barbed Wire and Cherry Blossoms adds to these concerns with a departure into historical fiction which reveals aspects of Australia’s Black history. Her setting is Cowra and the Aboriginal mission at Erambie during World War II, and the book begins by introducing Hiroshi, who is wrestling with his conscience because he feels he can’t honour his Japanese heritage as a POW in the Cowra camp. As readers probably know, Japanese soldiers underwent harsh training to imbue in them the belief that surrender was ignoble and it was better to die than to be captured. And in the Cowra breakout on the 5th of August 1944, many of the Japanese POWs escaped only to commit suicide rather than live with the shame of seeing out the war in the comfort and safety of an Australian POW camp.

Heiss uses this historical backdrop for a love story between Hiroshi and a 17-year-old girl called Mary whose parents decide to offer refuge at Erambie to the escapee. And although I haven’t read Heiss’s other novels, I suspect that this novel has a harder edge than they do, because it depicts the institutional discrimination of the period, from which there was no legal escape for Indigenous people.

To read the rest of my review please visit https://anzlitlovers.com/2017/09/12/barbed-wire-and-cherry-blossoms-by-anita-hei...

Reviewed for VPRC. Set at the turn of the millennium this is an engaging story of a Murri girl in Sydney called Mel who adores Cathy Freeman and is a great runner just like her. At 12 years old she witnesses the reconciliation march across the Sydney Harbour Bridge, finds out more about her grandmother ( one of the Stolen generation), faints when she is supposed to meet her heroine and watches Cathy win gold at the Olympics. A story of family love and friendship and of the hurts of previous generations being passed on to the present. Accurate depiction of the time and the story moves at a nice pace.
Hate the title as it looks like a non-fiction book and kids probably won't read it unless I promote it. For those that like sport and are interested in indigenous culture.