In Amharic, Tariku means “I have a story to tell.” And hopefully that’s fitting, because today I want to tell you why Reconciliation Week matters to someone like me.
I’m Ethiopian, Indian, English, and Australian. Not in parts, not switching between them depending on who’s asking, but all at once. I was born here, my dad was born here, and in every way I am Australian. But I’m also in every way every part of my other heritage too. That’s not a contradiction, that’s just who I am.
When we talk about reconciliation, we’re talking about truth – telling. And the truth is complicated. The truth is that this country has always been home to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. The truth is also that it’s become home to people like my family, who bring together different backgrounds, languages, and stories that have shaped how we live and connect with this place.
And living among so many other families like mine, I’ve come to learn that belonging isn’t something you have to prove or earn. It can exist in more than one place, in more than one way, all at the same time.
Reconciliation isn’t a one-week-a-year conversation. It’s not a box you tick or a statement you post. It’s the ongoing work of understanding that this land holds all our stories, but some stories were here first, and those same stories were nearly silenced.
I think about what it means to be proud of who you are while still questioning the systems around you. Growing up with multiple cultures running through you teaches you that identity isn’t simple. You learn that you can be completely Australian and completely connected to other cultures. You can love this country deeply while still pushing it to be better.
What strikes me about Aboriginal culture, and what I continue to learn thanks to people like yourself – is this understanding that everything is connected. That taking care of country means taking care of each other. That’s not just philosophy that’s practical wisdom for building the “next” we’re trying to bridge toward.
So, what does “bridging now to next” actually look like? It’s not just acknowledging the past – it’s using that knowledge to build something different. It’s understanding that reconciliation isn’t an event, it’s infrastructure. You don’t build a bridge once and walk away. You maintain it, you strengthen it, you make sure it can carry the weight of everyone who needs to cross.
I am who I am because this country allows for complexity. But that acceptance didn’t happen automatically – people fought for it. Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples are still fighting for recognition that should never have been a fight in the first place.
The bridge we’re building isn’t just about healing the past. It’s about creating space for all our futures – where Indigenous knowledge is valued, and the realisation that our diversity is what makes our country so special.
My very existence is a testament to what’s possible when we choose complexity over simplicity, when we build bridges instead of walls. But I’m not the bridge – none of us are individually. We’re all part of building it.
Thank you to the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples who continue to teach us what connection to country really means. The bridge from now to next isn’t something we build for you – it’s something we build with you.
I look forward to being part of the ongoing story of reconciliation that we’re all writing together.
Tariku Brammall
Year 11
