Katie Goes...

"Kanyini" is an Aboriginal word that means, "unconditional love and responsibility for all things".  Seems like a good recipe for life.  So, my brain has accepted that, "yes, I would like to live with unconditional love and be responsible for my connection to every living thing"... now what??!!  My Western brain starts in with the questions, "well, what does 'living' mean?  I mean, in some First Nation ideology, rocks are considered to have spirits, and, of course, the ground- that's Mother Earth.  Right.  O.K., now I'm in my car and someone cuts me off... well, my first thought isn't unconditional love.   So, there's the rub, then- how do you move from your head to your heart?  ... I know!!!   ... Practice. A most humbling experience happened to me, quite unexpectedly, in a white, country town in Australia. I won't use names, but not to protect anyone.  This could have happened to anybody (and hopefully will agai

The thing about serendipity is that it follows you wherever you go~ and sometimes seeks you out! I was sitting at my favourite coffee shop (on Abbot Kinney) in Venice, and started a conversation with the guy next to me. I asked him how he could write and not be distracted (he was writing a screenplay), and he said it was about his life. Then he asked me my name, then looked slightly astounded. He turned his computer, and there was one of his characters just introduced: Katy. *Of course, the spelling is Way off, but that was pretty cool. Welcome back to Los Angeles...

I was up with the sun this morning and watched the moon disappear into the brightening blue sky. It made me cry, but then I remembered it was only on a journey to the other side of the world and would come back again tonight. I've been recently contemplating relationships between men and women, and have been challenged in my coming to understand not only Aboriginal culture, but my own as well. Uncle Bob and his beautiful wife Barbara joined me outside and we spoke of dreams. Two stories were recalled that have grounded me in peace and awe. In the ancient times women held the highest law and were the most powerful beings- holding sacred lore, which they kept in a dilly-bag. They came to a pool of the Rainbow Serpent, a place which is so sacred that no one must disturb it, and to swim in it would be unthinkable. The women, so drunk on their power, disregarded the law and were laughing and splashing, and cleaning themselves. The Rainbow Serpent saw this and made them blind an

It was like being on Mars as the moon rose over the ridge. Twilight transported me to the story, "The Little Prince", and I felt as if a snake was going to come talk to me any second. Wild horses were galloping all around us, and we made our camp in between the criss-cross of camel tracks. For the first time, maybe in my life, I welcomed the dark (although it was like dark with training wheels because of the brightness of the moon). Two girls went with me to the watering hole at the dam near our campsite and there, barely discernible in the dusk, were a small herd of cattle. They heard us coming and bolted, moving up the slope faster than I thought possible for such big beasts, then we heard a huge splash as one of the horses jumped into the water. They took off as soon as the breeze picked up... we were not good trackers as we came in up wind of the beautiful creatures. Stars competed for the moon's brightness and the glow of our fire as Uncle Bob told stories from Count

The silence of the desert is punctuated alternately by crickets and wild dogs in the distance. The moon almost reflects on the red dirt and the gum trees are transformed into silver fountains. The simplicity of fully being present in the moment is sharply contrasted with the gross injustice surrounding this most sacred centre of Australia. Should I make a list? 1. there is no money for housing at Mutujulu (the Aboriginal community here), but the Park service just built a 2o million (that's right- twenty million) dollar "viewing" platform for tourists. 2. the children of Mutujulu are not "allowed" to have a pool, because of expense and water... um, but at Yulara (the tourist resorts on the "other" side of the rock) every hotel and campground has a pool. 3. the only store in Mutujulu is run by non-indigenous people and the prices are exorbitant. I could take up pages and pages to list what is unfair, unjust, violent and how much the government

I have a vision of a global youth Indigenous leadership program, and the professional Indigenous mentoring network that will support it. The core values of the project are healing historical trauma through shared experience and community capacity building through service. It is well documented that First Nations people across the globe face daunting challenges. Some of these are violence, alcoholism, no health care, and despair, but I propose that each negative is symptomatic of historical trauma, and can be transformed into a positive through community capacity building and shared experience. Shared experience is a major tenet of grief healing, and can be a powerful tool in healing historical trauma. Imagine young people, from Indigenous communities around the globe, coming together to learn new skills and talk story with kids from other First Nations. Next imagine each participant going back into a different community to manage or assist in service projects. Possible areas of

My body is exhausted from all the travel and cramped sleeping, but my spirit is incredibly expanded. Just when I think I've reached a surfeit, a whole new way of thought becomes available. I keep wanting to capture it, to write it down, to prove it's happening, but that's exactly what I need to let go of, in a way. The idea of "control" is what fractures most any good intention. Control of people, control of the land, control of environment, money... it's a "dominator" pattern versus "partnership". I'm heading back down to Tumbi Umbi tomorrow, and on Sept. 7, am speaking to a group of university students who sit on an Aboriginal advisory panel. The guts of my program are about personal transformation- on all sides, and the work recently is how to convey that. I was lucky enough to go to the opening of the Melbourne Indigenous "Message Sticks" film festival. It was incredible! I was staying with my friend, who I met

I have not been able to write, because there is so much to say. I thought I had good empathy and my mind was open, but the education I got at Garma had little to do with the structured festival. The journey began at the Darwin airport, where I camped out the night before flying to a tiny airport called "Gove". My travel tiredness was whisked away as we sailed into the clouds of the Northern Territories and over the red and brown dirt below. I met a lovely girl called Trudie on the plane, who works with Aboriginal Law, and on the bus to the festival grounds I met another rock star named Louise, who teaches in Melbourne. One thing that surprised me straight off was how many whitefellas there were. It turns out that the Garma festival is owned by one white man, even though there is ostensibly a board of directors (with, believe it or not, not much black representation). It was like splitting into two people then, one for my experience as a white person, and one to observe a

My first day in Sydney was a wonderful transition- and no jet-lag in sight!!! I unpacked and watched movie s from the very comfortable couch of my brilliant friend Summer Foley. Day two it was time to explore my new city! I made it out to Tranby Aboriginal College, in the hip neighborhood of Glebe, and met up with my friend Darryl that I met seven years ago at Macquarie University. He is now the Program Director for Community Development at Tranby, and the catalyst for my trip here. From the outside, the college is unassuming, but as you walk through the Burnt Sienna hallway you come upon another world, formed with curved walkways and round classrooms . The administration buildings and the circular, tribal, classrooms are connected by the "reconciliation" bridge that symbolizes the link between the European and Aboriginal worlds. After a tour of the campus, I had lunch with some of the staff and students. Everyone was incredibly nice and had great senses of humor. I

This is a more academic version of a possible future. All I have at the moment is my vision, which will be informed by experience after my trip to Oz. VOICES OF WISDOM For the last six years I have been working on creating a program that could begin to address the travesties surrounding Native/First Americans and Aboriginal Australians. I really began to understand the atrocities endured by the Aboriginal population in Australia, and consequently in my own country, while pursuing my Masters degree at Macquarie University, north of Sydney. During school breaks, on-campus housing was made available to Aboriginal students through the Warawara program, and as an international student, I also stayed on campus during holidays. As a fellow outsider, I became friends with members of this program and was allowed into their inner circle to begin a video storytelling project, as part of my degree. While listening to their stories I couldn't help but think of the Cherokee community w

I was invited to attend the Garma Aboriginal festival:  www.garma.telstra.com      It's truly amazing, but the challenge is the $2,200 additional funding! I'm having a documentary film showing on July 22.  Fine Arts Theatre, 7pm -Whaledreamers: www.whaledreamers.com but if you can't make it, do try to see the film, it is brilliant.        I am learning so much. For instance, I had not realized that playing the yidaki (didjeridu) is only for men.  It's men's business and illegal for women.  Cultural understanding then comes in bits in pieces:  The sound of the yi d aki at Gulkula is a call to the Yolngu clans of Northeast Arnhem Land to come together. It is a call to all peoples to come together in unity. Every August it is also a call to men from around the world who are enthusiastic about the "didjeridu" enthusiasts to come visit the home of the instrument and learn from traditional masters at the Garma Festival. Non-Indigenous use of yi d aki In the Nort

If I had to speak so that everyone completely understood me, I would have to be silent.  In 25 days I begin a new journey, this time to Australia.  It'll be an intense road ahead, but it's also a chance to start work on a dream I've had for over six years, to facilitate an exchange program between Aboriginal Australians and Native Americans to heal historical trauma through shared experience.  Dr. Maria Yellow Horse Brave Heart has an excellent website on historical trauma, if you want a better understanding:  http://www.historicaltrauma.com/