Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
I'd like to begin by acknowledging the traditional custodians of
the lands on which we've recorded this episode, and also
pay respect to the elders and communities of the many
lands where you, our listeners, are joining us today we
honor the continuing connection to country, culture and story. Welcome
(00:25):
back to find and tell. I'm Mondonaravels and this is
where First Nation storytellers step behind the mic and speak
from the heart. Each episode, we give our storytellers a
theme and they take us somewhere raw, personal and powerful.
And today's storyteller, Aliah Jade Bradbury will guide us on
(00:47):
our next theme the next chapter. You've heard our journey
from the plumbing stool to the red carpet, but in
this final chapter, Alia goes deeper into legacy, lineage and
the quiet power of women who refused to be small.
Big es soul or big Thanks. Is a love letter
(01:09):
to the women in her family, her mother, her grandmother,
her great grandmother, women who broke rules, women who carried burdens,
women who paved the way. So today we are the
ones who came before and celebrate what it means to
take your place in the story. Let's dive in.
Speaker 2 (01:38):
I've been thinking a lot about legacy, like what does
it mean to be a Tory, straight Islander woman right
now when you come from a line of women who
never really played by the rules. Because the women in
my family there were never just one thing. They were lovers, fighters, prophets, breadwinners,
party girls, rebels, matriarchs, daughters of the see. I come
(02:01):
from a long line of women who, against all odds,
rewrote what was possible. My great grandmother a prophet with
a sailor's mouth who used to drink with Bob Hawk.
My grandmother, a single mum who became the first Indigenous
woman to graduate from UTS. My mum, who you're going
to meet soon. She became the first Indigenous arts advisor
(02:24):
to a federal minister. And me, like you heard in
my first story, I became the first Indigenous woman to
win an Emmy. But it's not about the titles. It's
about what we carried to get here. This is a
story about what it means to inherit strength, to grow
up in the in between, to be the next chapter
(02:47):
in a lineage of women who weren't always perfect, but
were always powerful. This is a love letter to our mothers,
to our contradictions, to the women who raised us, and
the women were still becoming. Do you understand who we
(03:07):
are as Torris straight islander women. You have to start
with the sea, not the idea of the sea, the
actual sea, Zugubal, Mabigail, the sea people, Zugubal, the spirits
that guarded the Torres Strait or Zike sits between the
tip of Cape York and the southern coast of Babu,
(03:28):
New Guinea, more than two hundred islands, some so small
they vanish at high tide, stretching across the ocean. We
are Melanesian, not Aboriginal, though we are connected. Not quite Australian,
though the map says we are something other, something in between.
(03:49):
We are the descendants of seafarers and star readers, gardeners, fishermen, sorcerers,
lovers and yeah, head on. We had laws, practices, cosmology,
and we fought to protect it. First contact came in
(04:10):
sixteen o six, when a Dutch ship crept through our waters,
but the real change arrived in the late eighteen hundreds
with the arrival of the British. By then, the Torstrait
was known for one thing, pearls shining deep water world
famous pearls. Thursday Island became the pearling capital of the Pacific,
(04:35):
and for a while it boomed. Islanders, along with Japanese, Malay,
Filipino and saut Sea divers, risked their lives in those
unforgiving depths. But pearls aren't the only thing buried under
those tides. Before colonization, we navigated the ocean by starlight.
We passed knowledge through dance, through breath, through minar story.
(05:00):
Each island had its own dialect Arab, where my family
is from in the east speaks Miria Mirr. Others speak Kalalagia.
But the spirit of this place that's shared across languages,
across waves. Were bound by totems, songlines, bloodlines, kinship and women.
(05:22):
Women wear everything. We were herelers, We were leaders, We
were life givers and fierce protectors. We held knowledge, practical
and spiritual. We birthed babies and led ceremonies. We spoke
with the dead. We fed whole communities with gardens nurtured
(05:43):
by moon cycles. But when the missionaries came in the
eighteen seventies, that shifted Christianity swept through our islands. Like
a cyclone, sometimes soft, sometimes brutal. It tried to tame
our rituals, changed the way we dress, the way we danced.
It told us women should be quiet, submissive, and some
(06:06):
of us believed it. Some of us still do. But
the old stories never fully disappeared. They're buried in lullabies, recipes,
dance steps, the way we watched the sky, even that duality.
That's the seed of this story because my great grandparents
(06:28):
were born into that mix, that collision, raised on the islands,
where tradition met the Bible, where colonial law brushed up
against island pride. They never went further south than Cans
and they lived on the land and by the tides.
But then something changed. My grandmother, Lydia was the first
(06:52):
in our family to leave the North, just her and
her brother. She came to Sydney with no community in
the late nineteenth sixties, and back then, being black in
Australia was enough of a fight. Being torro straight islander
in Sydney, there was no blueprint, just grit and prayer
(07:13):
and stubborn hope. And that's when we'll go next. Because
the waves didn't stop with her, They carried us forward
each woman in my line, moving further from the island
and somehow closer to herself. If the story of who
(07:34):
we are is an ocean, then my mother Jay Christian
is the current that pulled me forward. Graceful, relentless, unmistakable.
She's always been that woman, the one who can glide
into a room like she owns it, the woman who
can pivot from negotiating funding to rocking up in trackies
(07:55):
while she watches my sister play netball on a Saturday morning.
She is polished, playful, fierced in the softest of ways.
Growing up, she was my idol. I wanted to be
a mini Jade.
Speaker 3 (08:11):
People left Ireland out of necessity. You need to work,
need to provide for my family. For me personally, it
was a need to keep on pursuing. What is the
next step of this is really interesting? I'm going to
take up this opportunity and not realizing that that opportunity
took me to the next thing and the next thing.
(08:32):
And I think that's collectively what a lot of toast
almbers do. Anyway.
Speaker 2 (08:40):
My mum was twenty one when she had me, young, curious, hopeful,
with all the world at her feet, ready to make
a future. I grew up under her desk at work,
not figuratively, literally under her desk, falling asleep next to
her heels while she researched the latest gadgets for the
new inventors. I was making cardboard handbags while she was
(09:04):
in meetings and NTV eating twisties while she whispered into
headsets for the NBC. During the two thousand Sydney Olympics.
Speaker 3 (09:13):
One of my cousins had actually said, Jeddy girl and
going to can't pick you up, just come and be interviewed.
I'm like, I'm okay, thanks, no, Jady girl. She was
very persistent, I'm going to come ten minutes pick you up.
I updated a resume, printed it off, and jumped in
the car with her. So I think I was engaged
(09:34):
as a runner, slash production coordinator, slash indigenous consultant for
the NBC Today Show. I did meet Muhammad Ali and
that was kind of like this oh wow moment, and
he gave me some life advice.
Speaker 2 (09:50):
What was the life advice?
Speaker 3 (09:51):
Never let a man take you for a full That
was his advice, and it was kind of interesting. His
wife actually, well, while I was walking them back, she
sort of leaned over and she said, you remind him
of his first wife Cheerismim. We just sort of laughed
(10:16):
of it. You know.
Speaker 2 (10:17):
That was her first big break, and from them she
never really stopped. She went on to work for ABC's
Message Stick, a platform that centered Indigenous voices at a
time when Belly anyone else was. She worked for SBS
Creative Australia, the copyright agency, and even as the first
(10:39):
Indigenous arts advisor to a federal Minister for the Arts.
But the work wasn't just about the jobs. It was
about what the jobs meant. She was carving spaces for
stories like ours, for women like us, and she never
left me behind. And that was everything. To grow up
(11:00):
witnessing a woman who could be both warm and formidable,
elegant and unshakably black, to watch her bring our culture
with her into every boardroom and every broadcast booth. There
was no map, but Jade made a compass, and with
every step she took, she made it easier for me
(11:21):
to take mine. This isn't just her resume, it's her rhythm.
And as I got older, I realized she wasn't just
telling me stories. She was teaching me how to write
my own.
Speaker 1 (11:36):
Welcome back to Find and Tell, as filmmaker Aliah Jade
Bradbury takes us through her family's incredible legacy in Big Es,
So Big Thanks, Let's get back into It, as Aliah
Jade explores how the women in her family continue to
inspire her own journey.
Speaker 2 (11:57):
Being a toe straight Islander woman in modern Australia, it
feels like you're moving between worlds, the ancestral and the future,
the cultural and the professional, the quiet power of where
you come from and the wild ambition of where you're going.
It's not a contradiction, it's the rhythm. Bell Hook says,
(12:21):
to be truly visionary, we must root our imagination in
our concrete reality, while simultaneously imagining possibilities beyond that future,
beyond that reality. I think that's what we've always done
as women in my family. We've lived in the real,
the concrete, the complicated, and still we drained in color,
(12:44):
still pushed the line forward, still claimed space. The women
in my family have always built their own parts. My
great grandmother was bold and sharp and didn't wait for permission.
My grandmother dreamed of worlds never ventured before, and my
mother took space and thrived me personally. I'm still figuring
(13:11):
out where I'm heading, but I'm enjoying the journey. When
I think about Indigenous women today, I don't think about limitation.
I think about legacy. I think about movement, because we're
not only keepers of culture where architects of the future.
(13:32):
And the work that we do isn't just for us.
It's for the girls watching, for the women beside us,
for the world we want to leave behind. This story
isn't just a family story. It's a map. Even if
you don't share the same culture, you still might recognize
(13:53):
the shape of it. The feeling of carving space, of
honoring those who came before you, of choosing joy, of
choosing growth, of choosing yourself. Even when the path isn't
quite clear, You're invited to fill that with us. You're
invited to be a part of this rhythm. So take
(14:14):
the space, Take it with pride, Take it knowing somebody's
already made a way, and know it's your turn.
Speaker 3 (14:21):
You're in your new season of what that might look
like for yourself. You will land on your feet, but
something else is coming out, or you're tapped on the
shoulder that comes out of pure obscurity, and then you're
working in the corridors of power, or you walked into
a building and thought to yourself, I'm going to work
(14:42):
there one day, you know, and then you find yourself
as an adult working in that same space when you
can look back at sort of your canvas of your life,
right and you can see all the vibrant colors that
you have painted for yourself, which is the scenery of
your life. See these really bold, vibrant colors of when
(15:02):
it's been exciting, and you can see, you know, some
splashes of darkness where there's sort of a low point.
But at the end of the day, when you step
back from that fully painted canvas, you can see a
structure or an image or the patterns that you've created
to form this magnificent piece of work.
Speaker 2 (15:30):
We come from the islands carved by time and tied
from women who carried oceans in their hands and still
made room to dance. And here we are in studios,
in stories, in sound, still dancing. My family story is
just one thread in a much bigger tapestry, a tapestry
(15:54):
of strength and softness of mothers and daughters, of laughter,
between struggle of love that stretches across generations, even when
words fall sure. If there's anything I've learned, it's this,
You don't have to have it all figured out. You
(16:14):
just have to keep going, keep building, keep dreaming, keep
making room for the version of yourself who hasn't arrived
yet but is on their way. Because legacy isn't about perfection.
It's about momentum. It's about passing something on, a lesson,
a love, a little more light. And if you're listening
(16:35):
to this, maybe that's your invitation to remember where you
come from, to shape where you're going to take the
space to write your chapter. The line continues, and it's
more powerful because you're here.
Speaker 3 (16:55):
I am in awe of every single one of your achievements,
whether you are producing radio shows, directing films, writing or
authoring a book, painting artwork. I am so enormously proud
(17:17):
of who you are as a woman. I appreciate you. You
are my best friend.
Speaker 2 (17:22):
You are my best friend too, And now I cry,
thank you, Mom.
Speaker 3 (17:27):
I love you.
Speaker 2 (17:28):
I love you too.
Speaker 1 (17:35):
That was Aliah Jade Bradbury sharing her heartfelt story of
legacy and the next chapter in Big ESSL What really
stood out for me is the way Aliah honors the
contradictions in the women who raised her, the softness, the strength,
the quiet endurance, and the fierce pride. She reminds us
(17:57):
that legacy doesn't have to look one way, and that
true power is often passed down in the everyday moments,
the ones nobody sees. It's a powerful invitation to own
who you are and to write your next chapter with courage, creativity, culture.
And that's exactly what this theme has been about, understanding
(18:19):
where you come from and stepping into who you're becoming.
But we're not done just yet. Next time, we close
out the season with a bang Aria Award winning rapper
and producer Dobby brings us a story called Fight, a
deeply personal exploration of protest and purpose. Dobby's story is
(18:43):
an anthem for those who stand for something. It's about
who we fight for and why the fight still matters.
There's even a sneak peek into his next big project,
and trust me, you won't want to miss it, So
hit follow, spread the word and join us. Next time,
I'm under Arabils and as always, this is Find and Tell.
(19:06):
Find and Tell is a co production between iHeart Australia
and the black Cast podcast network. Black Cast empowers First
Nations people and people of color to reclaim their narratives, strength,
and cultural identity and contribute to a more inclusive Australia
by showcasing exciting emergent talent from Australian communities