Aboriginal Rights

» ScottBardell - Falling Angels

In my room is a small shrine. Nothing great or magnificent but it is the most important thing in my world. I am not indigenous. I am British a child of the West, a white man, a son of a South African , white, my great grandfather was one of the men responsible for 'educating' the blacks in Zimbabwe. He even had a plaque on his wall for his great achievements. I am part of the machine, I was born and brought up in private education in UK and was due to take a scholarship to become a fully fledged member of this society. But something went wrong along the way and I became disenchanted with the 'system' I was a part of, tried to fight it, ended up getting hurt physically, mentally, socially, every which way. I ended up pretty isolated, kind of out there on a limb. into drugs, into sex, into anything that gave me a little sweetness in a world I had pretty much become outcast from. The reason I say all this is because I am pretty much as far away from being an indigenous person as you can get or at least I was; I had a house, money, good breeding, I am white, I had a great future, big bucks, good looking woman, the dream life was mine if I wanted it. Once I got expelled from the ranks I fell to earth but it was that which saved me really. I say 'saved' but I know I am far from saved. But it set me off on my own path and I will never regret that it did. I began to look for answers outside of the system, outside of the machine and even though what I found tended to make me feel incredibly ostracised and solitary, in the end it brought me to an understanding of myself and my place in the world that was truer than the one I had been given to follow. So looking into indigenous cultures, seeing how their plight was mirrored somewhat in mine, I wondered if maybe they didnt also hold some of the answers I was missing. I dont profess to know much about any particular indigenous culture and I have only had fleeting encounters with indigenous people. I have been lucky, getting to meet highly respected shamans from South America and West Africa and spend time with them, talking to them, learning from them. In doing so I realised I had been on a path all my life, it was no mistake that I had fallen out with the system at all, in fact in many ways my inability to fit in had been my rescue. And so I began to reconsider things within me that the machine had been systematically attempting to wipe out of me since year dot. dreams, hallucinations, strange voices, a sense of magic, a sense of spiritualism, a sense of being part of something I couldnt put my finger on, a feeling I was born into the wrong world. All these things had been taboo in my culture and replaced with thoughts of a christian god or more commonly now, a Corporate god. So my point?

Well my point is that I realise from the round about route that I have taken through corporate England, the concrete jungle, the social world here that in truth is quite empty and lost, that everyone has in them an indigenous spirit looking for it's home. I dont wish to belittle any indigenous person who reads this, nor do I pretend to sympathise or empathise with their personal, or cultural plight. But I am a fallen angel albeit a dark one, offspring of the machine, of the West. I have not escaped it at all. I work in the city, I live in the city, I buy supermarket food and drive a car when I need to. I function to all intents and purposes like a good citizen. I do this because I have to. I have to because through my fight with 'the shadow' I realised the shadow can kick my butt any time it likes, it whoops my ass and leaves me lying in the dirt in a sorry mess. So I endeavour to grow my indigenous soul, now I have found it, and I do it privately, amidst the concrete, the 9-5 hour day, the madness that surrounds me. I groom it as best I can. That shrine in my room has come to be the most important thing in my life because it is my bridge to the otherworld, the invisible world. Through it I speak to whatever listens, nature, the gods, energy, spirits I dont even know what to call it really I just know that in spending time before it, talking to whatever is listening I find I get a response. Last night I woke confused and saw an owl in my room. I looked at it for some time staring at me before suddenly it dawned on me that there was an owl in my room. I freaked. jumped out of bed and switched the light on. It wasnt an owl it was my speaker. I was relieved for a moment and then I realised that some other part of me had been awake while my mind had been semi-alseep. This is a common occurence to me these days. I still jump a bit when it happens but it has a sense of its own, a meaning within it that slowly I start to accept and follow rather than fear and block out. I have only ever found indigenous people to look at these things in this way and that is how come I ended up following the path of indigenous people to try to understand these things and why they were happening to me.
Back to my point.
I think from my own story that I can see how all people have the indigenous within them. Mine was wiped out from my family maybe 1000 years ago. My lineage goes back to North Wales and I understand they held out from the christian invaders for longer than most in UK. We all have indigenous people in our past and the world over indigenous people seem to have the same view though their exact methods may vary the essence of their knowledge is the same. It is this that echoes in the hearts and souls of every person alive, even the tyrants I am sure.
The langauge of literacy is without doubt a hex of some kind we all of us now are afflicted by. It serves to keep us trapped in some ways in the non-indigenous mindset. I am not sure we can ever hope to free ourselves of it but I do believe we can push it to evolve into something new. I have managed to come this far in returning to my indigenous roots of me. I know also that I am only just on the doorway of a much deeper understanding and experience of my world but each day I make headway. That shrine keeps me strong. I feed it and it in turn feeds me. I come to understand my 'gods' on a personal level. Gods I never even vaguely comprehended but a few years ago. This tells me there is hope. If I can come this far out of the machine without a community surrounding me to support me then what does that tell anyone who is indigenous and surrounded still by family, friends, community that still holds the magic, the beliefs, the knowledge of their indigenous lineage. There is a long way to go for me and others in my country like me, there are a few. We have all but turned our backs on the system though no one would know because it is on silent feet we are making our way out of the door. How can we ever hope to escape if we make a noise about it?

Anyway the point of my posting is that I get the feeling that there is a lot of disenchantment and fear and a sense of hopelessness from what I see and hear in the words of people who still hold the torch alight. I am sure as a result there is a sense of despair and anger at the countries, the cultures, the whites, the colonists, the people who seem to be part of something that is intent on destroying the indigenous people throughout the world. It has been going on since the beginning of the written word. It amazes me that indigenous people still exist in the world so determined has been the force that seeks to wipe it out. But it isnt dead yet and even in the belly of the beast people like me are waking up to who they really are and though not making deliberate attempts to take the machine on, are dedicating themselves to changing their own spirits and making sure they walk a path that ultimately will lead them and others back to the place this all began. That is a good thing. So to the indigenous amongst you, I wouldnt go giving up hope yet

you have a nice day now

Scott Bardell

-- posted by ScottBardell

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» woorama - Falling Angels

In response to Falling Angels posted by ScottBardell:

ah, scott, you don't even know how close you are to being able to recover your indigeneity! owl is an important person for me - she always points me towards what is important, so i'm assuming that working thru this with you is important in some way. so here goes.

first of all - we need to stop equating "white" skin with non-indigenousness. i can't stress this enough. it was only 1000 years ago your welsh ancestors "lost" indigeneity as you say - so this myth of "whiteness" is just irrelevant. check through the articles on this site - there are dozens of pieces on indigenous peoples with light skin tones. soon i will write one about the nemadi of the sahara - blue-eyed, light-skinned hunter gatherers who are oppressed by a regime run by dark skinned peoples... we there is too much diversity of experience out there for us to continue with this "black vs white" mythology. lack of melanin is no barrier to your indigeneity.

the barrier is the world's collective willingness to support a false standard of living in the west. we need to stop enjoying or aspiring to this false standard. the world cannot keep giving what is being taken - time to lower our standard of living and increase our quality of life. this means a shift away from individualism, and a leap towards the communal.

your experiences, your echoes of indigeneity you are having - these are not the real deal, but a call for you. you are being called to recover, rediscover... you need to get your arse to wales - your indigenous language is still being spoken there, and your ancestors in many places are still living within the land in traditional ways. they honour the old lines of power, and there are even some old men who still carry the oral history texts from thousands of years ago, right there in their heads. for a pint some of them will sing/tell these songlines for you (songlines is what we call them here in australia - i don't know what the welsh call them). anyway, i believe some welsh indigenous people even have gained native title on traditional lands now. you have indigneous ancestors calling you bro - move out of that concrete jungle for a while and seek them. go burn some peat and spend some time in places that start with "ll". at the moment, these echoes you are experiencing are "private" meaning individual, meaning disconnected, meaning ultimately unhealthy and destructive. you need to go to wales, learn your language, seek out those old fellas and learn the stories. learn the land. that's where your spirit comes from - it will go back there one way or another... it's trying to get back there now. if you don't take it there soon, it might decide to leave your body and go on its own. then where will you be. time to go home bro.

-- posted by woorama

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» ScottBardell - Falling Angels

In response to Falling Angels posted by woorama:
Thanks for your comments Woorama, many things I had not thought of in there so they are appreciated.

-- posted by ScottBardell

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