30/10/2022
Ugly truth of Cassius’ death
Shock. Disgust. Dismay. Hopelessness.
It is impossible to reflect each of the feelings that have rippled across the Aboriginal community this week following the death of Cassius. I’ve only listed a few. What they all share in common though, is the reaction they eventually create in each of us: anger.
The people in my community are hurting. Some in silence. Some more vocally. Each of us in our own way, with our own journey to consider. But let me make this point very clearly: every single Aboriginal person in Perth has been impacted by the death of Cassius.
If the people can accept that Perth is a big country town where only a degree or two of separation exists, then that connection and familiarity is even stronger in the much smaller Noongar community. We knew Cassius. We know his family. Our kids and grandkids were friends. His family’s loss is our loss. The prejudice is our prejudice. This could have been my son. Others are thinking it could have been their child or grandchild.
Many people may ask themselves this week: how can this happen? It is the wrong question to be asking. We have been stating it clearly for some time now. Despite the risk of being labelled as outspoken or misguided. Or even the risk of being dismissed and pushed to the edges of society. It is clear to everyone in my community. The catalyst to Cassius’s death was racism. At its worst. It can be labelled as mistaken identity or oversimplified as being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or anything else for that matter.
None of it will change how my community is seeing this.
Until you can answer the following question, it will be hard to convince anyone otherwise: if it were a white child that had been accused of breaking windows, would these people have beaten him to death?
Dismissing our view is unhelpful because if you cannot name a problem, you cannot fix it.
And this is a problem. Racism has been allowed to fester. In small examples that are left unchecked. Comments made online, shop attendants following us around a shop, people moving away from you on the bus, or even as one staff member explained to me recently: when they presented at a hairdresser for an appointment and were told to go home and wash their hair first.
It is why we call out this behaviour when we can. Because if we don’t, it grows in the shadows. It escalates. To the point where people believe that their extreme actions are justified. That is the problem here. And our people die for no other reason than because they are Aboriginal as a result.
In prisons. In hospitals. And even walking down the street.
We say in these instances that black lives matter because sometimes it would seem as if others think they don’t. This is not virtue signalling. Don’t label it that. It is truth telling. The truth is that there is a way of life many Aboriginal people are forced to live that the broader community can be totally oblivious to.
As someone who walks this tightrope daily, I only want what everybody else wants: better for my children. A future where they can learn and grow and love and reach their full potential. A future where they do not have to live with unfair judgement from others, where they are found guilty for no other reason than being who they are.
And add to this, as we grieve, an anxiousness that is starting to loom over us that cannot be ignored. An understanding that we also love with as Aboriginal people: the systems around us were not designed by us, or even with our best interests in mind. Often they have in fact been set up to punish us. There is a history of them letting us down. Of favouring the other side.
I, like others in my community, am fearful of what this means for the coming days. Of the further pain that looms on the horizon. There is still a lot of feelings to come. There is still a lot of grieving to be done. I can only continue to hope, as I will always do, that this time will be better. That no stone will be left unturned in bringing those responsible for Cassius’s death to justice.
Because this will not fade in our minds as it fades out of the news headlines. Be patient with my community over the coming weeks. Some of us are losing hope, as we are blinded by despair. And commit to working with us. As we continue to fight for equality. For justice. Because Cassius deserves nothing less. His family deserve nothing less. Our community deserves nothing less.
Rest in the Dreamtime, nephew. You are forever in our hearts.
Daniel Morrison is chief executive officer of Wungening Aboriginal Corporation.
This text is taken directly from the article below.
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