A number of you have asked about my work at the University of Queensland. I'm writing this blog post in response ... if you aren't interested, stop here! No worries, Mate!
This wasn’t my intention, to become immersed in issues of
Indigenous health or to seek an immersion in Aboriginal and Torres Strait
Islander (“ATSI” as I’ve had to learn, an oft-used acronym for this hugely
diverse group of peoples) issues.
My Transpacific Fellowship was intended to focus on health
policy matters on the global scale (well, that was one part, the other is to
explore teaching approaches using digital and distance learning
techniques). But when I got here, one of
my colleagues, Peter Hill, really wanted me to help his research team that’s
delving into the import of something called the “Indigenous Burden of Disease”
study, or IBOD.
IBOD, conducted in the mid-2000s, used some sophisticated methods
to update the levels (“burden”) of disease and disability in the Aboriginal and
Torres Strait Islander communities (the Torres Strait runs between the
northern-most point of the Australian mainland, the York Peninsula, and Papua
New Guinea). The study came up with a
new composite measure of that burden called “disability adjusted life years,”
which adds up in a single number the effects of death and sickness from many
different causes. And, it came up with a
new estimate of the gap between the life expectancy of ATSI and non-Indigenous
people. The new estimated gap of about
11 years caused some concern, as it slashed the previously, widely accepted gap
of 20 years.
Now, 11 years difference in life expectancy is a lot less
than 20, but it’s still ELEVEN FEWER YEARS that a new-born Aboriginal baby can
expect to live!
Ok, so this study was published, and since then some
national policies have evolved – for example, Australia now has a “Closing the
Gap” campaign to reduce gaps between ATSI and “white” people in education,
health, and other things – and the question Peter’s team is trying to answer
is, “Did IBOD influence policies concerning ATSI people and, if so, how and
why?” To ferret out the answers to that question, the team
conducted interviews with policy makers, researchers, and government
bureaucrats.
My little piece of the puzzle is to understand how policy
makers and researchers viewed the study and its findings – What did they expect
would happen when the results were published? What value does a study like this
have for each group of people? Did the
sophisticated methods used by the study’s researchers add something of value to
the policy discussions or were they only of value to the researchers themselves?
So, a young researcher and I are reading through the
interviews and analyzing their content to try to understand how these two
“cultures” – policy people and research people – differently value such
research. We plan to have a paper
written for submission to a journal by the time my fellowship ends at the end
of May.
The
team was to present the work, to date, as a panel at the AIATSIS conference in
Canberra at the end of March, and I was invited to go as an observer and to
meet the rest of the research team (which is at the University of New South
Wales in Sydney).
And so, the AIATSIS conference: 
The Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait
Islanders is variously described as a policy center, a research center, and a
repository of culture and history.
Whichever it is, the conference itself was focused on Indigenous studies
– the research and teaching about ATSI and the colonial history and
present.
The plenary presentations were all, but one, given by
Indigenous academic leaders from Australia and New Zealand, each commenting on
the field of ethnic studies and life for an Indigenous academic within the
white-dominated academy. One takeaway
for me: the tendency of academics to speak in dense, theoretical terms knows no
national or cultural boundaries! What
struck me was the similarities with the struggles in the U.S. circa 1960-70s of
“ethnic studies” or “women’s studies” programs, for recognition, for a defined
identity (are we a discipline?).
The one plenary exception was an African American scholar
from San Francisco who had clearly had a transformative experience by coming to
Australia to “discover” “Black” people who had been living here for 60,000
years. He gave a somewhat rambling
commentary about “blackness” and the struggles against racism in America,
dropping many names and instances that I suspect many in the audiences didn’t
get. But his overall point, that much
would be gained through trans-Pacific scholarship about power, oppression, and
colonialization, was heard with enthusiasm by the Australian academics I talked
with afterward.
One cool thing was that each morning the conference started
with dance and music by a troupe of Indigenous youth. This one was a father and his children, very
cool:
The comments made by someone from each group made it clear
that the dance and music served multiple purposes – transmitting cultural
knowledge from one generation to another as well as providing a path for young
people to develop their own identities (some amazing fusion of hip-hop and
tradition dance!) and their self-esteem.
In some cases, this was a very deliberate strategy to reduce drug and
mental health problems in ATSI communities.
A custom at the conference and, I take it, among people who
work in this field, was to begin one’s remarks with something like “I want to
acknowledge and honor the traditional custodians of this land and their elders,
past, present, and future.” This is no
small thing, as Australia as a nation only recognized in 1982 the fact that the
land was inhabited when the English arrived 200+ years ago and began granting Aboriginal
rights to their traditional lands more recently than that.
The health challenges in ATSI communities mirror those of
African American and First Nation communities in North America – not
surprising, as the histories of disenfranchisement, oppression, and racism run
parallel, as well. As in the U.S., the
government and health professionals struggle with how best to address those
challenges; how to balance addressing immediate needs, like reducing smoking or
addressing depression, versus economic development or access to education (a
big problem, given the fact that many Indigenous people live in very remote
place far from the nearest schools).
OK, this blog is long enough! One final photo: While in Canberra I stayed
at the hotel on the grounds of the Australian National University. It has a feeling of a place for visiting
academics, calm, quiet, contemplative, including this pond just outside my
room. How could one NOT think big
thoughts here?


" the tendency of academics to speak in dense, theoretical terms knows no national or cultural boundaries!" universal university!
ReplyDeleteOK, Mister big thought thinker, I'm impressed and fascinated by your explanation of your mission, although I had to look up the word "plenary." Your writing technique is erudite, yet lucid to us non-academics. I especially liked the way you interspersed phrases like "way cool" (bien chido here in MX) to attempt to diffuse the technical jargon of the academics. Right on!
ReplyDeleteHee hee, thanks for YOUR erudite comment, Memo! BTW, "way cool" is a highly technical term in the academy that has its roots in relativity theory ... and BS.
ReplyDelete