 I'd now like to introduce our next speaker, Nicole Watson. Good evening. I too would like to pay my respect to the traditional owners. And also I'd like to thank Uncle Chigga for his welcome to country. And I also acknowledge the elders we're very lucky to have with us tonight. The writer Thomas King once wrote, the truth about stories is that that is all we are. King's words are universal and timeless. Stories allow us to understand ourselves and others. Stories heal in times of grief, and they allow us to feel safe in a world that is often dangerous. Tonight, I'm going to share three stories with you. The first story has its roots in the beliefs of the early European settlers. We know from their own written observations that they arrived in a land of great beauty. Captain Cook described the East Coast as a place where woods were free from underwood of every kind. And the trees were of such a distance from one another that the whole country could be cultivated without being obliged to cut down a single tree. Joseph Banks, draftsman on the endeavor, and the director of the book, Sidney Parkinson, also compared the land to plantations in a gentleman's park. But rather than comprehend such features as the results of ancient systems of Aboriginal land management, the Europeans saw them only as wilderness. A related story is called the Foundation Myth. Australia was built by brave and resourceful settlers who harnessed a strange and unforgiving land. The greatest threat to the Foundation Myth has always been the invasion and dispossession of Aboriginal people. So other stories became necessary to protect the Foundation Myth. According to these stories, Aboriginal people were hunters and gatherers who had no settled existence, with no recognizable body of laws, whose culture offered nothing of value. That story prevailed to the detriment of all of us until it was challenged by a second story. This second story is one that Aboriginal people have never stopped telling. Most recently, it was told in two important books, The Biggest Estate on Earth by Bill Gammage and Dark Emu Black Seeds, Agriculture or Accident by Bruce Pascoe. Gammage argues persuasively that Australia never was a wilderness. The lands, waters, rocks, and every living thing were all made by ancestors who emerged from the dreaming. Rather than own the land, people belonged to a country and had a profound obligation to care for that country. This spiritual relationship was married with a sophisticated knowledge of plants, animals, and the seasons, allowing for abundance in the driest continent on Earth. In Sydney Harbour in 1788, such abundance was manifest in a diet that included fish, prawns, lobsters, crabs, and oysters that would become famous for their generous size. Bruce Pascoe confronts the hunter and gatherer myth with the reality that Aboriginal societies in 1788 were technologically adept. Far from being nomadic, many grew crops, stored grain, and lived in houses of stone and clay. Pascoe reveals a flair for engineering through the story of the Brawarana fish traps. Older than the pyramids, the fish traps could feed up to 5,000 people during times of harvest while remaining sustainable. The most important theme that emerges from these two books is that all Australians have so much to learn from Aboriginal relationships with land. One aspect of that relationship is interrelatedness. In the Aboriginal world, people, plants, animals, the land and spirits are all related and each has a role to play in maintaining all life. This equality between the species funds reflection in both authors' accounts of dolphins and killer whales in different parts of Australia, driving fish to shore during times when people were hungry. For many Australians today, there is no similar concept of interrelatedness with the plants and animals upon whom we depend for our survival. But I often wonder about the positive changes that such a concept could make to human lives and to the lives of those who become our food. In embracing the knowledge that is celebrated by Gammage and Pascoe, Australians need to consider a third story. This story is a continuing struggle for recognition by the first peoples of this country. 80 years ago, this story was told here in Sydney by the women and men of the Aborigines Progressive Association. One of their enduring contributions was a day of mourning on Australia Day in 1938. As the rest of the country celebrated 150 years of European settlement, members of the APA marched silently in protest from Town Hall to Elizabeth Street. 44 years later, this same story would be told in different words by the young activists of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy in Canberra. It would also be told by the 40,000 people who took part in the Long March for Freedom, Justice and Hope from Redfern Park to the city on the 26th of January, 1988. Most recently, this story was told by the authors of the Uluru Statement from the Heart. In moving an eloquent language, the authors of the Uluru Statement called for the creation of a new Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voice to the Australian Parliament. Contrary to the assertions of our former Deputy Prime Minister Barnaby Joyce, such a body was never going to be a third chamber of the Parliament. Rather, it would provide advice on laws and policies that impact upon Indigenous communities. The Turnbull government rejected this modest proposal out of hand. Tonight, I urge all of you to do what our government has not done. That is, engage with the Uluru Statement. Discuss it with your families, colleagues and neighbours and have the debate that our politicians have thus far failed to lead. I will conclude now with the foundations for a fourth story. It is a beautiful story. It is a story that is yet to be told. In this final story, Aboriginal communities and their reservoirs of knowledge will be valued as the most crucial step in all Australians coming to really know our country. In this final story, laws and policies that impact upon Indigenous people are informed by the voices of those at the grassroots. Because the authors of the Uluru Statement will have seen their important work come to fruition. At this moment in our shared history, this beautiful story appears only to be a possibility. But for the sake of the future of all Australians, it is a journey that we cannot fail. Thank you.