People ask what do you mean when you say you are a black woman? Usually those who ask this question are whitefellas … and they are looking at me thinking, this woman is a white woman … I mean just look at her … she got white skin and freckles. And another thing I bet she was not born under a mango tree on the banks of a river in some remote location of the Northern Territory. They be also thinking and “I bet she was not born in some ghetto in inner city Melbourne or Sydney. She also has not got one of those ‘stolen generation’ stories to tell.”

Well guess what whitey! Thanks for noticing first and foremost, the colour of my skin. You are probably right about the birthplace, although in reality, I have no idea where I was born. Perhaps I could invent a story that described some ancient mango tree or some dirty backstreet slum in some southern inner city, or I might even be able to construct a ‘stolen generation’ story to suit either scenario.

But the truth is I come from a long line of black women, born of black. My black lineage being made up of my first mother – Mimbinggal – six ‘second’ mothers, two grandmothers, two great-grandmothers, two great-grandmothers, two … Shall I go on?

I am born from the womb of Mimbinggal who whispered this koowaruk in my ear: Tjalingmara, lukrikkan ponga tjuda lok kurrindju: Tjalingamara, woman of paperbark country, Kurrindju.

It is significant to declare this welcome and this pedigree of blackness as it not only signifies my lineage but it consolidates my position, my status, and most importantly it links me to the earth from which the original womb gave life.

I know I am privileged to have been introduced to the world through the sacred passage of a Kungarakan woman, who herself was guided through that sacred passage through generations of Gurindji women. I believe that by entering the world through the birthing passage of a black women I was imbued with a special strength and knowledge. Only certain people are chosen for this journey.

But this birth – in blackness – also imbued me with levels of knowledge that can only be bestowed from the inner sanctum of black souls – and can only be shared with and understood with the other black souls who are on the same journey.

For me, being nurtured and raised by black women has been my life experience – it has been a from the cradle to mature age learning experience that gave me the strength to be able to face those whitefellas who make comment about the colour of my skin.

My truth is BLACK WOMAN. I stand strong because I am BLACK WOMAN.

The first breath given to me was from a black woman. I breathe as BLACK WOMAN.
The last breath I take will be as BLACK WOMAN.