'It has been two years since the Referendum Council endorsed the Uluru Statement from the Heart, an open invitation from Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples to the Australian people to walk with us in a movement of the Australian people for a better future. Many Australians have taken up the offer in that time, from civil society groups, professional societies, local community groups, not-for-profits, corporations, universities, schools and unions, but, as expected, not all of our political representatives. The decision to issue the Uluru statement to the Australian people was the correct one. Those who have queried the strategy are those who place great faith in conventional approaches to politics. They are mostly pundits. It works for them. And they have no skin in the game.' (Introduction)

'Wurundjeri elder Uncle Dave Wandin is jabbing at his smartphone when we meet. “I’ve got be somewhere else at 11 o’clock,” he explains as we walk up an unpaved road towards a stately, two-storey building framed by gum trees full of warbling magpies. It is clear that Uncle Dave is a busy man: as well as being a member of “many boards with too many acronyms” (Waterways of the West Ministerial Advisory Committee; Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung Cultural Heritage Aboriginal Corporation…), he does a lot of conservation work in the area, undertaking extensive plant surveys, and doing a lot of brush cutting. This morning, however, he’s invited us on to Wurundjeri land to learn about a new project.' (Introduction)

Alison Croggon on how the diminishing government support for the arts is taking its toll.

'In Australia the battlefield and the sporting ground are where national myths are forged, and also remade as political necessity requires. It’s fitting then that The Australian Dream, a documentary about the racism and double standards that drove champion Indigenous player Adam Goodes out of the Australian Football League in 2015, explores the certain similarities these two spaces share. The abuse that Goodes suffered, while playing and while protesting, was a continuation of a mindset readily traced back to colonial dispossession, tempered in conflict.' (Introduction)

'Far too often television for younger children gets a pass mark merely for being a distraction, the ultimate screensaver for flustered carers. Bluey, the ABC’s hit animated series that’s lit up the imagination and lowered the inhibitions of preschoolers since debuting a year ago, is far superior. The everyday anthropomorphic adventures of six-year-old blue heeler Bluey, accompanied by her four-year-old sister, red heeler Bingo, are delightful, inventive and blessed with a love of creative play. The episodes are just seven minutes long, but their influence runs deep.' (Introduction)

'How could Get Krack!n possibly take it any further? After all, the first season of the breakfast TV satire had seen Kate McLennan and Kate McCartney – its Caucasian, at-sea female hosts (played by themselves) – eat human faeces on-air for Aboriginal reconciliation.' 

(Introduction)

'One hundred and twenty-seven people. That was the census count of “the good white settlers” in the town where Odette Brown lives. Odette was not counted. None of her people were counted. They exist as shadows in a white world.' (Introduction)

'“The truth is, most theatre is fucking boring.” So says Patricia Cornelius, one of the country’s best playwrights. Long unproduced by mainstage companies, the Melbourne writer is experiencing an uptick in opportunities and acclaim, but her surging profile doesn’t seem to have affected the sweary indelicacy that is one of her most endearing qualities. “I don’t see it as therapy,” she says. “I can’t stand that shit.” ' (Introduction)