CASE STUDY; Topic: Indigenous culture

Order Description

please answer the questions in a form of an essay structure. please make sure that the answers are extended and the total answer must be not less

than 1450 words and not more than 1600
please provide at least 4 credible references and tocuh on the stolen generation, the social detrmenant of australian indigenous population health,

the family structure in the Aboriginal community in your answers
all the words “Aboriginals =Indigenous” MUST BE CAPITALIZED..

Worksheet 1 Russell Nelly’s Story, a health story (an Interprofessional response)

Question 1: Discuss Russel Nelly’s childhood and name some of the important issues he had to deal with.

Question 2: Discuss Russel Nelly’s life and the challenges he had to face once he was removed from the Mission until he was 22 years old.

Question 3: Discuss the health issues Russel Nelly had to face and how he dealt with these issues.

Question 4: Discuss the issue of Identity and how Russel Nelly dealt with his identity.

Question 5: What do you think enables Russell to be who he is today?

WK 10 – CASE STUDY

Russell Nelly’s Story, a health story

Groups of same/closely aligned health professionals:
• What significant life experiences are mentioned by the person in this case study?

• What were the key factors that contributed to his ill-health?

• What do you think about the reasons given that made him face his mortality?

• In discussing the events that changed his life, do you believe that his story is possible, or plausible, for all Aboriginal people?

• What experiences with the health system can you identify?

• As a health professional in your area of study, what do you think would be your professional point of view and how would your chosen

profession contribute to the treatment of diabetes and the well-being of the person such as Mr Russell Nelly at this point in his life.

• What does the term empowerment mean to you? Identify the elements that have empowered you as an individual student.

• Are you aware of the values underlying your health profession which define your code of conduct?

• What significant insights as a health professional have you gained through this case study?

Workshop 10 – Health Story – Russell Nelly (Transcript)

Mr Nelly: I’m Russell Nelly, 58 years of age and at this point in time I’m in my old childhood and adolescent place where I grew up. This is my Mum

and Dad, George Nelly, Matilda Nelly and my older sister. I’m still waiting. Mum is waiting for me. This is taken around in Marribank here. Marribank

was set up in the late 40s along with Gwonangerup Mission as a quick solution to the problem that existed at that time and as such there was

legislation pushed that allowed the formation of places such as missions and communities where the Aboriginal people for want of a better word were

incarcerated and all that was to do with the Government policies and the powers that be at that point in time. I was born in Borden under a tree and

I spent my childhood in Gwonangerup Mission and then that failed through finance and lack of staff and the place sold and we got transferred. A mob

of us – some went over to Norseman, some went over to Marribank and some went to Roelands Village and some went to Kattacooda Boys Hostel in Perth. I

grew up here.

I was born under a tree in Gwonangerup. I remember Mum and Dad once telling me I was a very special little boy. It took three days to get from Borden

to Gwonangerup to attend the hospital there and even there we weren’t allowed in the hospital. We had to go back to the tent that was underneath the

big tree and we were there. It’s hazy – I can just remember it but I can remember being put in the mission and told that this is your life. Your

family doesn’t want you. They want nothing to do with you and that’s why you’re here and at an early age I just resolved there and then to affect my

lot, to be able to accept my lot without a minimum of fuss but one had to go with it. You had to go with the flow otherwise you’d get left behind.

Interviewer: Do you remember your mum and dad?

Mr Nelly: No, I’ve seen pictures of them. I’ve got photos of them but I didn’t know them personally so when they told me Mum and Dad, well they were

still in town. That’s what I couldn’t understand. They were still in Gwonangerup and we used to see them going to school. Going back to the mission

when we were in trouble the mission would say “your parents don’t want you. You’ve got no family”. Having been told repeatedly and in fact I started

to believe that it was true so over a period of a couple of years, three or four years my memory of my early years has faded but I can still recall

bits and pieces.

Interviewer: How long were you in Gwonangerup Mission for?

Mr Nelly: From a couple of months old until I was going to Grade 1 or Grade 2 in Katanning Senior Primary School.

Interviewer: So you’d moved from Gwonangerup then to here, where we are now, Marribank?

Mr Nelly: I consider Marribank being one of the centres that I grew up in. I’m comfortable in this area and I like to be able to come back and just

meditate and sit around and hear the bush speak to me.

Interviewer: So you’re comfortable coming back to the mission here, Marribank where you were?

Mr Nelly: Yeah.

Interviewer: How did you spend your life when you were here?

Mr Nelly: Having grown up in a mission environment where you finally accepted those in charge of the other boys, yourself and their family, at the

time I didn’t question it and then I realised that this must be my life so I will have to do the best I can. In hindsight looking back I can see that

at times I found it hard to understand and with the pressures of going to school and listening to the outside people like teachers and people in the

community teaching us plus we had our house cottage parents talking to us. Sad to say that in the time I was growing up all the Aboriginal culture as

we knew it then just faded. It faded and when I left the mission here I got thrown out on the street, $10 in my pocket and the clothes I stood in.

Interviewer: Can you tell us a bit more about the normal day here. Like you’d get up early –

Mr Nelly: I had a couple of brothers here. We used to get up at half past four every morning – whatever mist, rain, hail or sun. We’d go out there,

have a look at our rabbit traps, fix the rabbits up; bring them back and if we got enough, every house received one, two or maybe three but we had

plenty of rabbits. That augmented the missionary diet that we were able to have. A lot of other things that we were able to see in the bush that we

knew that were medicine to us. That’s why I like coming back to Marribank. This place has big potential but it’s a daunting task.

Interviewer: You mean you’d like to fix up the buildings?

Mr Nelly: Oh I’d love to hopefully yeah but these things take planning but it is sad to come out here to see how the place has deteriorated.

Interviewer: What about other chores other than rabbit traps – milking cows?

Mr Nelly: Yeah, we milked the cows out there. We learned how to do the wool and the shearing, get all the eggs, grade them, pack them away and wash

them before we put them away and made sure they were clean, then packed them into individual boxes for the ones in town for distribution; people in

town who were connected to the mission had children in there but they were from the mission, the same place. We had to take fruit, vegies and milk

and whatever to them as well because they were considered part of the family.

Interviewer: It would have been cold some mornings getting up that early.

Mr Nelly: Oh yeah, it was nothing to see ice – barefoot we used to go.

Interviewer: How did you keep warm?

Mr Nelly: When you were pushing the cows along and they’d relieve themselves, they had the need to evacuate their bowels and your feet were freezing

and your toes were blue, when it hit the ground and splattered, it was lovely and warm so jump in there. They would push and push to get away from

you but it warmed our feet up and we’d wait for the next one and that’s how we were able to cope.

Interviewer: After all that, then you’d go to school?

Mr Nelly: Come home, have a shower, have your breakfast and then go and catch the bus. Actually I was told to stay home, I got expelled.

Interviewer: So how was school for you? What was it like going to school?

Mr Nelly: Going to school as a younger person from Marribank, I’m thankful for the fact that there was a large group of us because that made us able

to mix in with the other students because we had children who had been to the high school before and young schools and they knew everything to expect

whereas we were able to just follow their example. I found it interesting. Most of my friends were European kids. A lot of my friends’ families were

“why are you talking to them?” I’d say “hey, you can’t sit down and ignore people. You’ve got to talk to people. How are you going to find out from

them where they’re heading unless you ask?” They might be out of the smoke for a few days or a couple of hours, you’ve got to ask otherwise you say

to yourself it all gets back to the art of speaking, the art of understanding so the fact that we were at school, that helped me come to grips with

meeting different people. Prior to meeting these people, I used to be a wallflower and sit in the corner. The only time they knew I was there was

when I coughed or farted and then they knew I was there but fair dinkum I’d sit in the corner and watch the world go past.

Interviewer: One time you said they put you in the dunce’s corner? Why?

Mr Nelly: That’s where I was quite proudly wearing the pointed hat and I thought it was really something and it took me a while to realise what the

other kids were saying. “You dunce!” What’s a dunce? “A dunce is a dummy and that’s why you’re in the corner”. I never really took much notice until

I started to understand that other kids were being put there and had been through the same experience. I’m not going to go there again so that’s the

reason I had to learn to buckle down and get on with it. Then I got taken out of First Year High to go and work on thingy and never had experience

driving tractors. They showed me the gears and how to turn it on and showed me how to do everything.

They were the fellas I grew up with. Even though we were cousins prior to going into the mission, being in the mission environment, being a mission

kid, that sets you apart.

Interviewer: How do you mean?

Mr Nelly: You definitely weren’t European and you definitely weren’t a townie and those two different groups they viewed us with pity and sadness.

Interviewer: Pity you think?

Mr Nelly: Yeah. Pity in view of the fact that we were taken from our families and brought up in a mission and if the families were good, it shouldn’t

have been like that.

Interviewer: Then you talked about coming out of the mission.

Mr Nelly: Yeah I came out of the mission like I said. All the restrictions and rules and regulations went out the window. You were more or less cut

loose and when you did so, when you got loose from all those shackles, you cut loose with a vengeance and a lot of them fellas – they found it, like

I told you, came into town from Marribank, a lot of them young fellas had an inability to seek someone who understood what they were going through,

to help them – their inability and ignorance in not talking. All that frustration, hurt and pain to bottle up here, all coupled together creates a

caustic acid and that eats you inside and therefore I always make it a point to tell people don’t keep a grudge. It will be here. Don’t keep a grudge

because it will eat away and turn into cancer and kill you.

Interviewer: What’s your story – were you drinking?

Mr Nelly: My story, when I left Marribank like I said, it was a whole new ballgame. I didn’t have restrictions; I didn’t have any rules or

regulations to stick to. I went to sleep when I felt like it, woke up when I felt like it, ate when I felt like it, drank and did whatever. I

embraced that type of culture to the extent that alcohol was my undoing in lots of areas of my life and because of my mission experiences and my

inability to cope with people in authoritative positions, I found it very hard.

Interviewer: How do you mean you couldn’t cope?

Mr Nelly: I didn’t want to cope. I’d been told what to do all my life and I got to that stage where I was free from all that and my ability to think

by myself was severely deficient at that time because peer pressure played a hell of a lot in my life and peer pressure dictates where I am today.

When you mix peer pressure and alcohol and drugs, they all go hand in hand to plot your downfall.

Interviewer: How far down did you go?

Mr Nelly: I went down to the bottom. I overdosed in Sydney twice. I had needles in my arm. The last time I had the unfortunate experience of being in

hospital for a week. Four days I was out of this world when I was in ICU. I woke up and couldn’t move. I had all these things in me so I got the

doctor. I got up and told him I was going home. I stood up and so I went home.

Interviewer: He would have said “stay in here, you’re not well” and you just ignored him.

Mr Nelly: I said “Hey, I’m Russell. I’m my own boss. No one tells me what to do” and got up and walked off. I was going through all these problems

trying to work, found out that people didn’t want to owe me no money; I was out in the gutter eating out of bins. That was low – I was that low man

that I got in jail. I came out. I had nothing and I asked Theresa to marry me. She didn’t believe me so I asked her to marry me again and she said

“you (18.58) get married”. So I got married. The screws, the prison officers as I walked out of the yard, jumped in a car to go to Midland to catch a

bus to Quairading “you’ll be back, you’ll be back”. A lot of the prisoners “you’ll be back fella”. So far, I haven’t been back. From that point in

time to now I’ve got six grandkids and five great grandkids. Life couldn’t be better for me.

Interviewer: When you were at school, was it like that as well?

Mr Nelly: Yeah, it was really bad at school. They were going at each other with hammer and tongs you know. Yeah, all this happening and then

hopefully it didn’t involve you but the thing was, you had to choose your friends and nine times out of 10 because we came from the mission, we were

mission bred kids, we were able to gel together and therefore we had that relationship that was forged by being incarcerated in the mission. That was

tangible for us in order for us to be able to move around comfortably out of the mission environment; in the town environment and that meant mixing

with the teachers, Police and people in the shops. Over the years I’ve learnt to sit down and observe people.

In the period I was at school, like I mentioned before I was a very shy person. If you said “boo” I started crying but over the years I’ve learned to

run with the flow and meet those people face on and being an Aboriginal person, growing up in the ‘60s and ‘70s it was a whole new experience because

the availability of drugs, coming from a mission, a controlled environment to one in town where you had open freedom of no one telling you what to do

or where to go or who you’ve got to see.

Interviewer: Tell us about when you first left the mission, like how come you left Marribank? Did they say “go away” or what happened?

Mr Nelly: I heard whispers that people were getting taken away from the mission. I only heard whispers and I thought I was there for the long haul

but having done two seasons of seeding and farm work, they felt I was ready to go.

Interviewer: How old were you then?

Mr Nelly: I was 14 years of age when I got on the street. The Missionary Superintendant put me out at the flour mill. He gave me $10 and told me to

go and find my family. I didn’t believe him until I got out of the car and then I realised nothing from there. All my family was there but I had to

go and meet them. I didn’t know them. I was back in a strange environment.

Interviewer: You hadn’t met them before?

Mr Nelly: No so I met the first four young blokes who came along. That was it. They introduced me to alcohol and a few other little things and since

that point in time I’ve had a love/hate relationship to the extent that my health was suffering.

I come from an era that the way the community had got so blasé with the thinking about putting the Aboriginals on the reserve, the legislation of the

Government that apportions the land they put aside especially for that purpose to keep Noongars away out of town and what people don’t understand now

is that area from Wellington Street to Adelaide Terrace and St George’s Terrace and down to Wellington Square that was a ‘no-no’ for Aboriginal

people after 5 o’clock. That’s the era that I grew up in. When I walked in the shop five or six other people would get served before me before people

even realised I was there. It happened to me once but never again.

Interviewer: What did you do?

Mr Nelly: When other people came in and they started serving them, I started grabbing things that I wanted and put them in my bag and people followed

me around. I stood there for 10 minutes. “You ignored me so I’m going to put those things in there. Don’t worry about the change. I’ll put my money

in and I’ll go out the door. I don’t want nothing to do with you. I don’t want to talk to you”.

It all gets back to that perception that the Aboriginal people have got no brains and over the years a lot of my people, they accepted it and

therefore they got booze. They couldn’t handle the pressure, couldn’t handle the snide remarks, couldn’t handle the smart remarks from families who

were supposed to be family but were separated because of his incarceration in the mission through no fault of his own. That was the kind of obstacle

that was put in front of the mission kid as he was growing up to seek his work. I can remember lining up to go to the pub in Gwonangerup and walked

to the front door and the bloke told me “no, you can’t go in there. You can go round the side” at the window still being used today. Two bottles of

beer passing out.

Interviewer: So separate bars?

Mr Nelly: Not separate bars. That was a window. I was on the footpath and they’d pass it out there, three bottles. It’s still there today.

Interviewer: But you were allowed in town alright or did they keep you out of town sometimes?

Mr Nelly: I knew there was covert racism experienced at that school and at that time I realised that there was something different to what they said

and it got to that stage at that point in my life where I started to take in what people were saying and I started to believe them.

Interviewer: What do you mean? What sort of things?

Mr Nelly: All the negative things. Having been told all these negative things most of my life it got to the stage where I started to believe in the

negative and that was the impetus, for want of a better word, for my downward spiral with the booze and my experimentation with that kind of

lifestyle.

Interviewer: What, because people were –

Mr Nelly: Yeah and I started to believe that and then having been told by certain members of my family I was no good, I should have stayed there and

they should have killed me a long time ago, I went away a very confused young bloke. Is it any wonder that I hit the booze when I did; I hit the

booze with a vengeance along with heroin and dope and a few other things and tablets. I look at these young fellas taking these things now; I used to

do that when I was a kid. As a result, as I said, three doctors, they made a prognosis about my health and they said “20 years of age you’re dead.

We’re going to see you at your funeral”.

One of the things I see that is starting to increase now is the incidence of a lot of people going to dialysis. If you look at the people going to

dialysis, they’re young fellas but they’re old. Nine times out of 10 or 35% or even 5% of those people you sit down and you ask them in the course of

the conversation and they’re mission bred because they were taught at a very early age to keep their emotions in check. Not to display crying. To be

crying in those days was considered cissy and you had to be tough and that goes for boys and girls. They found they weren’t tough enough when they

got out of jail and they were unfortunately in a situation where peer pressure snowballed them to the extent that they succumbed to addictions and

when I say it like that, five or 10 percent of those people because they were ignorant of what they were taught, that ignorance stayed with them.

They could have had help but they were told being brought up with ignorant people. If a person asked them a question and they were supposed to

respond they never because “you don’t say nothing because you’re black. You’ve got nothing. You’ve got no brains. You don’t know what’s going on.

Listen to us. We’re your boss”. Being told that for 50 or for 60 years is it any wonder that it’s been imprinted indelibly on your head? That’s going

through your mind 24/7 growing up there plus peer pressure and your family and friends all coming in and you’re dealing with other issues with the

mission and people in charge, is it any wonder they’re coming out all screwed up? Coming from a situation where you had all these things and the

possibility of these things happened while we were in that environment being told “jump in the car. We will go and find your people”. “What does that

mean?” “Oh, you’re getting out. We’re chucking you out on the streets. Here’s $10”.

Interviewer: Then when you went into town, were you treated equally?

Mr Nelly: No way!

Interviewer: Tell us about it.

Mr Nelly: You knew you were different come footy season. Everybody wanted to know you. “Here’s a football. Do you want to play in a good team?” but

you watch after the footy season. Those same people who asked you to play for them, did they come and say “hello” to you? They’d look at you and

laugh and look at you sideways and make smart remarks. These are your so called mates that you run and played footy with or played netball with.

When we walked into a shop, everybody automatically grabbed their purse. There was someone telling everybody “watch your things. They are here”.

There was a time when it never used to worry me but having been by myself and seeing how the black/white situation handled itself over the years,

racism is still there. We cannot step it out. It’s part and parcel of the Australian way of living. It’s how you, how a person conducts one’s life

will determine the effects of what they have to say down the years, down the track. Like I say, one of the fortes in my life is the fact that I like

meeting different people and with the Police, I found them very hard to come to grips with but then again I realise that alright, they’ve got a job.

It’s a very good job but some of the stigma attached to being a policeman is they certainly have to be thick skinned people and more so these days

where the aboriginal issue is starting to come to the fore.

Interviewer: You mean we’ve got more of a voice? They have to listen a bit more.

Mr Nelly: We have got more of a voice now yeah.

Interviewer: They didn’t have to listen back then?

Mr Nelly: That’s right.

Interviewer: You told me about one time the Police put you in a cell with a champion boxer. Did they do things like that very much or do you want to

tell us about that?

Mr Nelly: One time I was in East Perth I got picked up outside the Kyora. I had to go back to the East Perth lockup and it so happened that there was

a young policeman there. For three or four years he was golden gloves, he was there. I don’t know what he was doing there but he came in. They picked

me up and said “the only way you can go is knock that bloke down”. I thought he was joking. I’m sitting handcuffed and I said “in order for me to go

I’ve got to knock him out?” and they all smiled. The coppers smiled. Three time golden glove brother and I’m only a street brawler – I’m not even a

brawler and the icing on the cake was this. You had to go in the room together. The winner walks out. Pretty boy, he followed me into the cell. He

worried taking his shirt off. Four weeks later he woke up in intensive care. I jumped all over him. All my frustrations, all my years of pain, I took

it out on him. Knocked on the door. “What are you doing?” “Take him to hospital. Can I sign that form and I’ll go”.

I jumped straight out there, hitchhiked to Armadale Hospital and was back in the hospital a couple of days later. Beautiful place and what I learnt

at Marribank; I worked for a number of years at Young River, Lord River, (36.15). After I’d been out on the streets cadging around, I asked a fella

to give me $10 or $5 or whatever, a cup of tea, a fella had a word in my ear and he said “hey, you want good things. You’ve got to go and get your

own mate. No one is going to have to carry you. No one is going to give you no money. You come from the mission. They’ve got no one” so I had to go

and work.

Interviewer: Was that with other Noongars?

Mr Nelly: No I worked with Malcolm Francis. They started me off with roustabouting – unbelievable number of years – a few other shearing contractors.

What impressed on me at that point in time was this, the fact that I was young, I had no job and no one was going to feed me. I wanted a car. I had

to go and work for that car. If I wanted a radio, I had to go and work for it. If I wanted to bet, to put a bet on, I had to get money so that I

could. Alright, I had to go and work which I did and spent a number of years opening up around Condingup clearing the country for land development. I

thoroughly enjoyed it but as with all Noongars growing up at that time, you meet with your family. The (38.05) coming for your cartons. Half an hour

later everybody was lining up and going to the hospital with a broken nose and broken jaw fighting.

Interviewer: There were a lot of angry people. Did they have reason to be angry or what?

Mr Nelly: Well they had a giant chip on their shoulders and the only way they could get rid of it was a bit of aggro and if you were in the wrong