#dharug

Most people don’t realise this about my family, as my grandpa is Swedish and bloody everyone in my community knows him lol. My relatives, apart from me and my brother (and my nan), all have blonde hair and blue eyes. Even our surname is distinctly Scandinavian and difficult for most people to pronounce or spell down here.

But today, I’m thinking about Margaret and her story. She and her little sister were stolen from their mob as children, never to see their mother or family again. The two girls were separated, and Margaret never saw her sister again. Her name, her culture, her teachings — all stolen. She was forced to 'forget' everything about her heritage and was taught how to ‘be white.’

Margaret was indoctrinated into Christianity and later became a house slave for a white family in Sydney. She married a white man — a convict sent to Australia — who was also a slave. When her husband passed, she bought a burial plot to ensure she could rest beside him. But when Margaret died, she wasn’t allowed to be buried there because she was black. Instead, she was placed in an unmarked grave, and to this day, no one knows where.

Everything was stolen from her, even in death.

In World War II, my nan’s father was white-passing. He hid his heritage to secure better work opportunities, something many felt forced to do at the time. He kept this a secret his entire life, only revealing the truth before his death when he returned from the War.

Margaret’s story isn’t unique. It's one of countless others that form the fabric of Australian history. Stories of stolen culture, destroyed families, and enduring pain that echoes across generations.

That’s why I believe Australia Day shouldn’t be a celebration. Instead, it should be a day of remembrance and respect for the resilience of the Indigenous people whose lives and legacies were forever altered by nothing but pure cruelty.