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Jacky ‘n’ th’ White Kid

I guess trying to tell a story from a kid’s point of view is asking for trouble because a kid is honest in the use of language - honest in so far as all that has been taught but even more so in what is felt inside; in his gut; in his heart - in other words, his instincts.

The term “abbo” to me as a kid, referred to a person who was here before any white person even heard of the place and therefore was someone to look up to and learn from; a person who knew more about this amazing country that I could ever learn in a dozen lifetimes; a person who lived freer than I could ever dream; a person who loved family and everything it stood for; whose notion of justice was based on deed rather than thought; whose punishment fitted the crime; who had no need to accumulate things but was a collector - a collector of stories, of myths, of truths, of life and of reality. The abbos I knew (and yes, I spell “abbo” with two b’s) made no fuss when an extra person joined them for a meal - even if it meant having to find some more grub - though that was rarely necessary; never punished with anger, were never condescending (even to a ignorant little white boy like me), were patient to the nth degree in teaching their skills and were not secretive with those skills. I loved my abbo friends - they taught me how to live.

When I left the little town in which I was born and raised, and went to live in the big city, I saw the effects of “civilisation” on native Australians. I saw drunkenness, robbery, bashings, drug use, homelessness, filth, but above all, I witnessed helplessness. In the city, the term “abbo” was descriptive of a no-hoper, an outcast, a non-person. To be told that you were “just as bad as an abbo” was the greatest of insults. Unfortunately, being surrounded by this attitude of city “reality” drags an innocent mind into the same mire. After the initial confusion of trying to reconcile my childhood experiences with this cosmopolitan reality, the fight became all too difficult and hopeless and so, inevitably, right gave way to might.

I shall attempt, in this series, to create the story of the lessons I learned throughout my short time on this earth. Jacky is a real person but he is also a character who represents a larger group of people who are different. Me, I am an observant participator, a devil’s advocate, and an amalgam of the reality of the results of “civilisation” and innocence.

We shall, each in our way and with individual expectations, await the outcome.

I ‘ope yooz orl ‘ave a rippa bluddy read,

©Tone
“Bushranger”
09 May 2002

Page created: Thursday, 09 May 2002