A SCARRED PAST

Madeleine Dunn, Bianca Fernandes, Mai Nguyen and Emma Snibson

No trees, no treaty
 

The headline blares at me in bold letters as I take a seat at a uni cafe. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve attempted to read the news; all of my mental energy lately has been thrown into finishing a group assignment on time.

The newspaper article, with a coffee cup stain ring in the top right corner, paints a vivid picture. Looming ancient trees and impassioned protestors cover the front page. Based on the headline I assume the protests may have had something to do with climate change—I’m surprised by the revelation of a different threat to the Australian bush.

Several sacred Aboriginal trees near the Ararat Region— including an 800-year-old birthing tree—have all been scheduled for removal to make way for a new four lane highway, cutting only three minutes off travel times2.These plans have outraged local and state communities.

Hundreds of people lined Victoria's Parliament House to protest the expansion of the highway. Many gather at the makeshift embassy at the base of the birthing tree in Djab Wurrung country. Looking at the birthing trees photographed in the article—scarred and hollowed out at the base—memories of a cultural walk hosted by the Koorie Heritage Trust last month surface.

I think of walking along the Yarra with our guide, sharing the hidden history of Melbourne with us, and learning about scar trees and their significance.

 
You see, we have to stop thinking that we’re superior to country and our land. We have to stop thinking that we are separate from it. We are two and the same
— Zellenach DT, Djab Wurrung Lore Man