Dirrarn

  We acknowledge and pay respects to the Noongar and Jaru Elders past, present and future – the traditional custodians of the lands on which this book is set.

  This book was made possible by the Daisy Utemorrah Award. We acknowledge and commemorate her contribution to the sharing of knowledge and wisdom through story.

  We are so thankful to Rachel Bin Salleh, Sharona Wilson and the Magabala Books team for believing in us and Mia’s story. It has been a wonderful journey working with you all.

  We give thanks to our writing mentor, Shel Sweeney, from A Worded Life, and our agent, Alex Adsett. Thanks to the Kimberley Language Resource Centre for their support with our language.

  This book is dedicated to all the remote First Nations children who dream big at home or away.

  Your future isn’t gifted to you from any teacher or school, you hold the power to shape your future in your hands.

  Dream big and fly high.

  First published 2023

  Magabala Books Aboriginal Corporation

  1 Bagot Street, Broome, Western Australia

  Website: www.magabala.com Email: sales@magabala.com

  Magabala Books receives financial assistance from the Commonwealth Government through the Australia Council, its arts advisory body. The State of Western Australia has made an investment in this project through the Department of Local Government, Sport and Cultural Industries. Magabala Books would like to acknowledge the support of the Shire of Broome, Western Australia.

  Magabala Books is Australia’s only independent Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander publishing house. Magabala Books acknowledges the Traditional Owners of the Country on which we live and work. We recognise the unbroken connection to traditional lands, waters and cultures. Through what we publish, we honour all our Elders, peoples and stories, past, present and future.

  Carl Merrison & Hakea Hustler are the recipients of the Daisy Utemorrah Award. Presented within the WA Premier’s Book Awards, the Daisy Utemorrah Award recognises excellence in junior and YA fiction and seeks to grow Indigenous writing for younger readers. Magabala Books acknowledges the Copyright Agency Cultural Fund and the State Government of Western Australia for their support of the Daisy Utemorrah Award.

  Copyright © Carl Merrison & Hakea Hustler, Text, 2023

  Copyright © Dub Leffler, Illustrations & Cover Image, 2023

  The creators assert their moral rights.

  All rights reserved. Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part of this publication may be reproduced by any process whatsoever without the written permission of the publisher.

  Cover by Jo Hunt

  Typeset by Post Pre-press Group

  Printed by Griffin Press

  • 978-1-922777-02-7 (Print) • 978-1-922777-00-3 (ePDF) • 978-1-922777-01-0 (ePUB)

  Dirrarn

  Carl Merrison & Hakea Hustler

  Illustrated by Dub Leffler

  1

  The hit came hard, sending Naya reeling from her spot on the playground bench.

  Charlotte jogged over to collect her ball, Naya lay sprawled on the ground stunned.

  ‘Don’t you have something to say?’ Mia said, hands on hips, staring Charlotte down.

  ‘I do,’ Charlotte whirled around. ‘I’ll say “Get lost, Mia!”’

  Mia bent down and scooped up Naya, put her arm around her friend. ‘Whatever, Charlotte. Learn to kick before you run your mouth.’

  Charlotte’s cheeks burned red and she scoffed, ‘Like you’d know anything, bush pig. Learn to talk properly before you run your mouth.’

  With anger boiling and frustrated tears in her eyes, Mia felt like lunging at Charlotte and wiping the smug look off her face. Naya swayed, and Mia held her tighter and turned to guide her away. Charlotte was talking about Mia’s accent, a result of being a Jaru and Aboriginal English speaker, with Standard Australian English her third language. Mia had never really realised she spoke differently than anyone else until she came to Perth.

  Mia felt helpless in this place. Back home, in her school, she knew how to deal with things like that. Here, at this fancy boarding school, they had different rules, different ways of dealing with bullies like Charlotte. Mia never felt like it was actually dealt with. Charlotte’s behaviour just then was proof of that.

  Mia walked Naya around the corner towards the office, unsure what type of help her new friend needed.

  ‘We don’t be unkind just for the fun of it, Charlotte,’ Ms Greenhalge said sternly, walking swiftly over after catching the last of the altercation, her position of authority as a teacher stopped Charlotte mid-jog.

  ‘It was just an accident, Ms Greenhalge,’ Charlotte replied sweetly, eyes looking up innocently at the teacher with a sweet smile. ‘We were just having fun.’

  Ms Greenhalge picked up the ball at Charlotte’s feet.

  ‘If you can’t kick properly or speak with kindness, you’ll have to lose this one then,’ the teacher said sternly. ‘You’ll make your peace with Naya and Mia before you get it back. You can follow me now.’

  Charlotte didn’t argue but when Ms Greenhalge turned to walk away, Charlotte stuck out her tongue and mimed the teacher’s words quietly before following.

  On the other side of the school, Mia and Naya sat under a large old gumtree. Gaalyalya chattered and squawked in the branches above. Mia was aware that they carried a different name on Noongar Country.

  ‘I’m proper wild at that Charlotte, bi,’ Naya said once the dull ache in her back and head had subsided. She had refused to go to the school sickbay, preferring the comfort of her new friend than the strange new office staff. Naya had come from a community ‘down the road’ from Mia but they were still separated by distance and hours. The girls had never met before they both started term a few weeks ago. It turned out they had other connections.

  ‘True,’ Mia replied, tightening her fists at the memory. ‘Proper stuck up, high class, thinks she is untouchable.’

  ‘Well, she is not,’ Naya said. ‘One day she’ll get what’s coming.’

  ‘It makes me slack them teachers taking sides,’ Mia pulled out a snack from her bag, oblivious to Ms Greenhalge’s actions. ‘They never deal with it properly here. Charlotte and her gang get away with everything.’

  Mia felt so far from home. Growing up in a remote outback community, she had still faced her fair share of bullies. She’d dealt with it in her own way then. Telling a teacher sometimes worked, other times a big brother or sister or family put a stop to it. Everyone back home knew how things worked. Here it was just her and Naya. Mia had pushed Charlotte away the first time and had been met with larger reprimands than Charlotte. Mia didn’t feel seen or heard by the teachers. They did things differently here.

  Mia’s hand unconsciously went to her birthmark between her shoulder blades. It reminded her of her strength and connection. Maybe she was only strong on her Country.

  She remembered a story her grandmother had told her. An old story passed down from Elder to community for generations since Creation. This story spoke of responsibility and consequence. But here on Noongar Country she felt far away from her ancestors, far away from her people. And this school was ruled by teachers of different heritages, too. Mia wondered if the story and its message reached here.

  It was only first term and Mia was sick. Homesick. Sick of this place. Sick of the rules. Sick of the way she and Naya had been treated. She wanted to go home.

  2

  The chorus of voices hummed as Mia walked into the dining hall with the twelve other boarders. Mr Cale, a boarding house carer, jostled around the tables filling the trays with dinner food.

  As the students found their places, Ms Babel, the other boarding house carer, sat down on a shared dining table with them. Mia and Naya sat at the end of the table, sitting quiet ways. In both girls’ cultures, you didn’t always have to fill the silence with small talk or chatter. They didn’t have much to talk about and were still feeling down after their interaction with Charlotte at lunchtime. Ms Babel noticed the way the girls’ shoulders slumped and the flat expressions on their faces. She was used to giving pastoral care to girls from remote communities. She’d worked as a ‘house parent’ for many years and had seen countless students from remote outback towns come and go. She knew the difference between the body language.

  ‘What’s up, Mia and Naya?’ Ms Babel asked in a soft voice, resting her hand gently on the back of Mia’s chair.

  Mia and Naya looked at each other without moving their heads, a flick of the eyes. Ms Babel had been kind to them and helped them feel settled in their new boarding home. She had sat with Naya when she had been sick a few weeks ago. She had helped Mia figure out the school timetable. After their bad experience with teachers dealing with Charlotte and her group at school, they weren’t sure what to tell Ms Babel. Would it just end up being worse for them again?

  Mia flicked her hand, sign language everyone used back home to mean ‘nothing’.

  ‘We right, Miss,’ Naya replied, looking up at Ms Babel. ‘Just hungry for this feed.’

  ‘You know you can always talk to me, don’t you?’ Ms Babel raised an eyebrow.

  The two girls nodded and Ms Babel sat with them a little longer, allowing the silence to stretch. Soon she stood up to join Mr Cale with the food.

  ‘What you reckon?’ Mia said, when Ms Babel was busy. ‘Should we have told her about Charlotte today?’

  ‘Nah,’ Naya replied. ‘We’d probab ly end up getting trouble about it somehow, too.’

  ‘I don’t get how she gets away with it, true God,’ Mia replied. ‘Teacher’s pet? Her family rich or something?’

  ‘Most that mob are rich enough I reckon. Think the school fees here are thousands,’ Naya said, picking up her plate now that Ms Babel had called students over to serve themselves from the hot trays at the front table. The smell of roast chicken, seasoned vegetables and gravy wafted across the room. ‘It feels like they do everything different here, hey? Classes, homework, extracurricular clubs, uncomfortable uniforms.’

  ‘My aunty told me about this thing called “culture shock” where you get slack and sick from all the different ways of doing things in that other place,’ Mia said to her new friend. ‘It is so different here.’

  ‘Well, I’m Charlotte sick. I’ll have to decide if I’ve got that culture sick later,’ Naya laughed.

  The other students on the table came from different places all over the state, too. A few students from the Pilbara, a few from the Wheatbelt, and Naya and Mia from the Kimberley. Life at the hostel wasn’t too much different than home. Both girls were used to living in houses full of people, the hustle and bustle in the kitchen. The other students talked Aboriginal English with them even if everyone didn’t share the same traditional languages and slang. The mob in here ‘got them’.

  The bedtimes were strict, and it was strange not having family in and out visiting and coming to yarn up around a fire. The fancy school was heaps different from home, and Mia wondered if it would get easier. It had already been six weeks.

  Soon all the boarders were getting up to serve themselves from the selection of food and settling down to eat. Mia and Naya let the troubles of the day wash away with mouthfuls of roast vegetables and sips of orange juice.

  3

  In the morning, Mia looked around for her schoolbooks. Turns out they were right where she had left them, forgotten – under her school shirt by her jaja’s dirrarn painting on her chest of drawers. Tiredly, she remembered how she was meant to have done some homework for a class today. Homework was a bit new to her. She’d seen it in schools in movies, and had to do the occasional home task back in her small community school, but here they gave something almost every day.

  The threat of having to stay in over lunch in ‘homework class’ like the first time she had missed her homework was enough to have Mia sneaking over to Tilly’s room early. A Year 11 student from the Pilbara who had been schooling away here for years, Tilly was a good type – friendly with a deadly sense of humour who knew a little of Mia’s Country. She had relatives from a community near Mia’s. They had been paired up as boarding buddies in case Mia ever needed help.

  Mia tapped lightly on the door, ‘You awake, Til?’

  Back home, with a blood relative, Mia might have bounced into a cousin-sister’s room and jumped on the bed to wake them up. But here, every girl had their own private room and Mia wasn’t that close to Tilly or even Naya yet. Tilly opened her door, hair messy and eyes bleary.

  ‘What na, Mia-girl?’ Tilly asked, opening her door wider to let Mia in then crawling back into her bed.

  ‘I’m bin forget that stupid homework from yesterday, bi,’ Mia said, perching on the end of Tilly’s bed. ‘Any chance you can help me out real quick?’

  ‘Really?’ Tilly grumbled, pulling the sheets over her head. ‘You had Babel and Cale bugging mob last night for homework. Why didn’t you do it then?’

  ‘I was distracted. Had a bad day at school, you know? Just needed to chill out last night and … I forgot,’ Mia said. ‘Not used to this homework stuff here yet.’

  ‘Get it out then,’ Tilly said finally, swinging her legs back out to sit next to Mia on the bed. ‘What got you all wild at school, huh?’

  As Mia went through her books and scrambled pieces of paper looking for the homework sheet, she told Tilly the story about Charlotte yesterday and, really, all term. She blurted out her frustrations with the different ways of doing things here and how she felt like Charlotte and her friends got away with their nasty behaviour. The judgey looks, the comments under their breath, the feet that popped out from under desks as she passed. All subtle, discreet, hard to prove. The labels of ‘bush pig’, ‘poor girl’ and ‘Centrelink handout’.

  Tilly was a good listener. Mia had found the homework sheet in the middle of her story and handed it to Tilly.

  ‘Okay, problem one,’ Tilly said after Mia had finished. ‘You gotta be smarter than that Charlotte girl. She is trying to pull you into trouble her way. She knows how these teachers work and how this school works. You don’t know the rules and the culture here yet. She trapping you like a fly in a spider web. Don’t play her games. You avoid her and ignore her and you do you. You aren’t here for that stuck-up chick. You here for you and your mob. You gotta be smarter and stronger. You just wait till you understand the game and you’ll find your way to put her back in her place. This world is full of Charlottes.’

  Tilly sounded like a proper old woman to Mia, with all her advice. It sounded like something her jawiji would say if she had told him about it. It was true, too. Charlotte knew how to bait Naya and Mia, and so far they had fallen for it each time. Mia was going to be like the galbun, circling and watching from further away, watching and learning. She wasn’t going to be the bug in Charlotte’s web.

  ‘And problem number two,’ Tilly said, turning her attention to the worksheet in her hands. ‘They said it in a long confusing way but basically this task is asking you to write about something important to you. Just write about something back home you love.’

  ‘Thanks, Tilly,’ Mia said sincerely. ‘Don’t know how you figured all this stuff out down here. Do you ever miss home?’

  ‘I miss home all the time,’ Tilly replied. ‘You just got to learn to code-switch and be strong both ways. I’ll be back home bigger and better each holidays anyway, and only two more years of school for me. I’m almost done, then I’ll be on Country for as long as I want.’

  With only an hour until the boarders would be called down for breakfast, Mia quickly began work on her homework task. Right now she missed and loved everything about home. She missed the deep, cool waterholes. She missed the open plains and hunting jarrambayi. She missed painting with her jaja and aunties. She loved them all. She even missed her brother, Jy, who hadn’t returned from Law before she had gotten on the plane to boarding school.

  But as Mia put pen to paper, instead she found herself writing about something else. Not too many months before, she had had to make the difficult choice to let go an injured dirrarn that she had been caring for. Her jarriny was a wild black cockatoo, had been miserable in its cage in Mia’s backyard. She had known she would have to set it free.

  Boarding school had been Mia’s chance to soar far from home. At the moment, she didn’t like where she had landed.

  By the time the call for breakfast came, Mia had finished writing.

  4

  The clean, even footpath led the way from the boarding house to Mia’s new school, a five-minute walk. Naya walked to Mia’s left, filling her in on some of the drama from back home that she had found out about on the phone with one of her cousins the night before. A cool wind swept up grass clippings and leaves from the garden beds and pushed it lazily onto the path. A flock of gaalyalya squawked and played in the shade of a large old gumtree. They kind of looked odd in the city. Their squawks were drowned out by the busy traffic noise.

  A P-plater, wearing the local public school uniform, beeped his horn and hollered as he drove by, startling the two girls. This road was busy enough and they didn’t know the people around here. That senior boy could have been yelling teasing way or worse. Mia and Naya knew that boys yelling things out of cars could be dangerous. They’d heard the stories of bad things. Both girls would consider themselves tough and smart, able to hold their own back home. They’d learnt to hunt, shoot, and spear fish and even how to fight if they had to. But an older man, with or without a car as a weapon, far away from home still made the girls nervous.

 

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