Because I always visit jails...

We began our first classes in Perth yesterday at UWA; Charlie Fox, a wadjella man who lectures in aboriginal history, gave us two brief lectures on aboriginal history in Australia and Western Australia in the morning. He is certainly a very knowledgeable man and had a very relaxed lecture style which was engaging. Charlie was just as interested in imparting Aboriginal history to us as he was in inquiring into our own Native American history. This led to some interesting comparisons towards the end of class, as we considered the prominence of Aboriginal issues in Australia politics, as compared to the near absence of Indian issues in American politics. Overall, I think his lectures offered a useful background for approaching the rest of the trip.

Right after the lectures, we left UWA and took a bus back to East Perth where we are staying to go to a Sorry Day gathering. Sponsored by the Bringing Them Home Committee (which is aimed at implementing a 1997 report about the Stolen Generation), the Sorry Day commemoration included a number of speakers, dancers and musicians. A traditional Noongar Welcome to Country was performed, which is exciting as we will have another such welcome when we arrive in Katanning on Saturday. Several of the dances were based on Australian animals like the kangaroo and emu and offered impressive interpretations set to the music of a didgeridoo. Very cool.

The point of Sorry Day, though, is to recognize the wrongs and hurts that have been aimed at Australia’s aboriginal people and, by offering an apology, begin to heal that wound. Thus this was not just a celebration of Aboriginal culture and Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s recent apology (February 13, 2008), but also offered a chance to remember those who died as part of the horrible effects of forcible removal, and call for the improved support of Aboriginal communities which face complex health, education and cultural issues.

As a whole, the atmosphere of Sorry Day was quite uplifting. Though part of the purpose is to commemorate those who were lost as part of the Stolen Generation, there was also a great celebratory atmosphere, in honor of those who have survived to see the recent apology. Additionally, there was a sense of hopefulness that the Australian community could begin to heal as a whole nation. People smiled and engaged strangers in conversation while children jumped in a bounce house. Aboriginal people seemed delighted to share their culture with white people who were eager to learn; in that spirit, there was a free barbeque at which I tried a kangaroo hotdog. (Interesting flavor, kind of tough meat, although that might have been the degree to which mine was cooked.)

After Sorry Day, we jumped on a train to Freo to check out the Fremantle jail. This was our second trip to Freo by train, but first as an official group. Unfortunately when we arrived someone realized that Iris wasn’t with us. After some mild panic, we reasoned that she would probably just get on the next train to Fremantle; Professor Kraly, who wanted us to see the prison, stayed at the train station to wait and sent the rest of us to visit the prison if we were so inclined. Leaving her, the rest of the group decided to reconvene at 5:15 p.m. for dinner and chose the most memorable spot in Fremantle we could think of: the corner where Chris nearly was hit by a car (had Elise not pulled him back) and let out the most shrill shriek I have ever heard. About five of us proceeded to the jail then, as others went to find some food.

While walking towards the prison, we were overtaken by two familiar faces: Iris and Professor Kraly. (She had indeed gotten on the next train which arrived shortly after we left the station). Our now slightly larger party proceeded to the Freo jail for what proved to be a very interesting tour!

At the jail we joined up with a few other Colgaters and toured what had been an operating prison until 1991. Our guide, Kim, had a great sense of humor and a pure love of ice hockey. (Upon finding out we were American, he couldn’t stop talking about his love of the Rangers!) The jail itself was originally built by the first convicts sent to the colony from England; though the Swan River colony (Western Australia) was started as a free settlement, there were not enough people to build a sufficient infrastructure and convicts were sent after about a decade. After they built the jail it became their home at night; during the day convicts were subject to hard labor. A number of years later, it was turned over to the colonial government as a prison and remained in service until just seventeen years ago.

As we walked away from the jail and reflected that it was our second jail tour in as many days, I realized that I have actually visited a number of correctional institutions on field trips (my count now includes: Eastern State Penitentiary, Attica Correctional Facility, Kilmainham Jail, Rottnest Island and Fremantle Prison). The Freo prison was similar to the others in many regards and I think I was a lot less shocked by cells and prison life than others on the tour (I also correctly guessed that the chapel is still used each year for marriages, which surprised everyone else). This was a particularly interesting jail, though for a number of reasons.

First of all, there is no indoor plumbing in the cells. All inmates were instead issued a bucket which they could empty once a day; this practice continued until the prison closed in 1991, except for a period in the 1960s when they experimented with chemical toilets only to find that inmates drank the chemicals as they contained alcohol. Secondly, we toured the isolation cells and the prison’s gallows. This was actually very eerie. According to Kim, the prison is supposed to be quite haunted, and just standing in the gallows in daylight was enough to convince me of that possibility.

Finally, as we entered one of the exercise yards, we were suddenly surrounded by these incredible murals that our group immediately recognized as reminiscent of the Carrolup style of art. Black trees and kangaroos painted over a backdrop of a brilliant sunset surrounded the yard. Two artists, in particular, were responsible for these murals in 1991. Though inmates had not been allowed to paint on the walls, when it was announced the prison would close, guards encouraged inmates to paint on the walls. Two Noongar men who shared a cell in the prison were responsible for a number of the murals on the walls, both inside and out. As we left the yard and moved inside, we were astonished by the mural on the wall of their cell. In stunning reds and blues and yellows, it seemed as if a Carrolup piece had been blown-up and painted to the wall. Our guide noticed we were particularly interested in the art, and offered to take our group to see a few other cells on the top floor after our tour; one cell featured an aboriginal dot painting of a wauygul (snake that created the Swan River, according to some Aboriginal dreaming stories), while another had impressive studies of classical figures. While these were not as exciting to us as our Carrolup-inspired discoveries, we were still incredibly grateful for the extra “behind the scenes” glimpse.

The jail had been of interest to us as a number of Noongar artists served time in and out of prison; many continued to paint while in jail, producing stunning works. We had not expected, though, to find pieces as part of the physical history of the prison itself. I’m curious to try and find out more about those two particular artists responsible for the murals: who they were, how they are connected to the Carrolup tradition, and how they came to be in prison. Perhaps this is something that can be investigated further in Katanning.

After our visit to the prison, our group split and some went to dinner at a riverside restaurant in Freo, while seven of us went back to the Northbridge area of Perth to eat at an Indonesian restaurant called Sparrow. Food was good, management was delightful, and the conversation was entertaining. Plus, it was a comparatively inexpensive meal. Good day, overall.

Peace,

Jill