Jason Wilson

All of the stories presented on this site remain expressly the property of those interviewed.

Submitted with permission by: Jason Wilson and Lakes Entrance Secondary College.

Interview with Jason Wilson in Bairnsdale, on December 2nd 1998, conducted by Lisa Glew, Mareeka Mullett and Cara Kilby.

My dad is a bricklayer and has been one for over 30 years, and he is still working at it today. Mum has always been a housewife she had plenty to do looking after all of us. When dad scored the job as a bricklayer we moved into Wellington and we found we were moving up class in our life style, we moved from the reserve into a brick house. Dad worked for the Wellington Lands Council and he designed and built our family home. When I was thirteen, my dad won the contract to build a motel at Parkes, he had no labourers, but had three sons. He took my older brothers and me out of school and we went to work. We didn’t have any choice, Dad didn’t think schooling was much good in those days.

Dad had the contract for ten months to build the forty two-unit motel, which was pretty big in those days. When we got there, there were about thirty men waiting for dad to arrive, all looking for work, so they were split into three groups and my brothers and I were each given one group. For ten months we gave the workers the mud, brick, water or what ever they wanted. It was hardwork but we did it. After we had finished the units, I left home and worked my way north. I worked my way up to Queensland, and had a lot of jobs. Because I was on the move so much I was never on the dole, as I never stayed in a place long enough, to be able to put in a form. I decided the only was I was going to survive was to work or go hungry. There were times when I couldn’t get work, but other aborigines, people I didn’t know, would give me a feed, bed, shower and before I left the next morning some sandwiches. Work for me lasted one week, two weeks a month, depending on the area I stayed in. I often mowed lawns for old people for ten dollars, then move to the next town and do the same if there was no work. Sometimes I’d have thirty dollars in my pocket, which was a lot of money, it would keep me for a week. When I was ring barking I would be in the bush for a month, you worked thirty days straight, no days off until the time came for you to pack up and leave, and that was when you got paid,, no getting a pay packet every week. It was pretty hard work, but it was good working in the bush. I also worked at picking potatoes, onions, cabbage, asparagus, carrots beans anything that grew in the ground. There was plenty of work around like that. You mainly got paid by the bag which was 50 cents a five kilo bag. We worked mainly for Chinese people at the time. Cotton chipping was the hardest work I ever did, and that was at Moree. The heat was unbearable, it was 48 degrees every day and I had to chip the burrs away from the cotton so the machines or people could then pick up the cotton. There were dangers involved, every hundred yards or so there would be a king brown snake wrapped around the cotton cooling off, you’d be working away and next minute you’d have a king brown sitting up staring at you. The rows were between one and a half to two kilometres long, and you would have to go half way before you could get a drink of water from the water man, there was no way he’d bring you a drink. It was hard work, but the pay side of it was excellent, every thing I did I got an excellent wage. I was only a boy but I did a man’s job, so I got a man’s wage. This reassurance about myself and my work capabilities made me feel good about myself and sparked the work bug inside me, I liked the idea of having my own money and feeling good about myself.

Racism is something I’ve had to live with, and continue to live with. It is not always verbal abuse it is sometimes a persons actions, but it is easy to recognise. In some places it was worse than in others. My family and I have encountered racism from both black and white people. When we moved off the mission the crew still living on the mission thought we were upper class, and had goes at us.

I remember as a kid coming home from school we’d stop at a shop to buy something and the shop keeper would put our change on the counter and turn their back’s, if we questioned the reason why they hadn’t put it in our hands or started to raise our voices, they would call the police. In Wellington we had a curfew for young aboriginal children, if you were caught on the streets after 6.00pm you were locked up for the night. Aboriginal children would meet and sit in the park, and because we were more seen by the public, and we were not the image they wanted to see in "their" town. I was one of those kids who’d sit in the park, and when the cops arrived you’d run and hide or climb a tree. One night we were caught and locked up, we weren’t allowed to call our dad to come and get us, we had to stay in gaol until the next morning. The police weren’t harsh with us, but they weren’t real good either. Dad was angry when he heard we were locked up, and fronted the police telling them they had no right to lock us up as we were all under age and they should have taken us home or called our parents. Dad earnt great respect in the town because every one knew dad would stand up for his rights, and the rights of others, and stand up to people others would back down from. I learnt early in life it was far better to ignore racist comments, and to hold my heard up high, because people were expecting you to argue or fight, and when you didn’t they looked like an idiot. I cope by sometimes standing up for myself, and other times by having a good look, you don’t jump the gun and go wham. Racism still is, in some parts, a big deal to a lot of people.

The worse racism I encountered was in the small outback towns of NSW, I was told several times to get out of towns purely and simply because I was "black".

I feel racism is going to be a part of our lives for ever because no one really wants to deal with that issue, it is ice breaking ground, and will stay with us until people can sit down and start by saying, "right, what’s the difference between me and you"? The only difference is the colour of our skin, what is underneath we all have the same. There are faults and prejudice on all sides that need to be tackled before we can move towards reconciliation. Hopefully people like my self can help break down the barriers and we will see more changes.

When I was growing up I had a lot of mates from the mission football team but unfortunately some of them have died from over doses and alcohol abuse or are in prison. Wellington was more a needle type drug town, not a smoking town. Drugs unfortunately paid a big part in our community. The only thing we did that was illegal when growing up was drink in the park, which is something all of us have done at some time. I had a couple of white mates, that I played football against, and back then the koorie boys all had white girlfriends and the white boys had koorie girlfriends, and we all hung out at the pool because it was open all year round.

I played interstate football in Queensland as a state representative and I have represented Australia., in the all school team. A lot of us went into athletics in High School as we were really good runners. We challenged the white relay team from the school to a race that the whole school came to watch as it was a big deal. Our attitude then was we had to be some one, we had to make something of our lives, not just given a role by the teachers.

The person who has been the biggest influence on my life is my daughter. She is my "jumper lead", who kicks starts me every day. The greatest things I have ever had is my children, I just love them. My family is what gives me the reason to keep going. I am proud of my kids, myself, and being able to identify my self as an aboriginal person . I will teach my children about their Koorie history and to recognise and be proud of their culture, just as the elders taught me while I was away from home travelling. It is very important that our culture is not lost and we should do everything in our power to make sure it is handed down from generation to generation, and that includes all cultures that now make up Australia.

The future of the Koorie people is in the hands of today’s people, as they will have to provide the necessary things for the next generation, just as those before us have done. I believe it will be an easier road to travel than I had. People from all cultures, must have aims, goals and expectations in life, because if you don’t, you wont have anything, and nothing to look forward to, except what the person next to you is doing.

In my opinion, some of the leading koorie sports people and those in the media spotlight are not doing enough to help the reconciliation process. They are so wrapped up in their sport and their own lives that they only recognise the racism directed at them. They do not identify with the problems in their own communities, and they are forgetting what has happened, and what still is happening to their people. Unfortunately they are letting their culture die. They say their culture isn’t dying, but it is dying within themselves. These people have opportunities with the media that we don’t have, and I am a little disappointed that they haven’t used this influence to help break down barriers. People will listen to them and their points of view, and it is sad they haven’t used their influence and power to bring about more recognition and a better understanding so the reconciliation process can become a reality.