logo
Young people at Banksia Hill invite ‘outside-in' for first-of-its kind Reconciliation Week event

Young people at Banksia Hill invite ‘outside-in' for first-of-its kind Reconciliation Week event

West Australian30-05-2025

Young people in youth detention at Banksia Hill Detention Centre invited the 'outside-in' for a first-of-its-kind National Reconciliation Week event.
The Department of Justice's event, Benang Moorditjabiny — Becoming Stronger for Tomorrow — featured reconciliation messages from Government and non-government representatives, cultural dance performances and a group yarning session.
Ninety guests attended, including former Senator Patrick Dodson, Attorney General Tony Buti, Minister for Corrective Services Paul Papalia, Elders and community leaders from across the State.
Mr Dodson — the father of reconciliation — said it was 'a great initiative'.
'The fact that the people in here, the young fellas and the young people inside, wanted to see and invited people from outside to come in, that to me is a great initiative and a great compliment to them, but also a compliment to the authorities for enabling that to happen,' he said.
Banksia Hill's 'outside in' event showed what can be done when people are serious about reconciliation, and what can happened when people come together for a common purpose.
'This helps both parties, the young kids, the people that work with them and gives everyone a sense that we are able to not only help people when they're here, but to hopefully put the onus back on the communities to make sure that they don't come back here,' Mr Dodson said.
'There's a lot of hope that, working together, we can make life better, not only for the young people, but for the people that work in these places. We sometimes don't see, but there are real possibilities, and real values in doing some of the things they might have to do.'
Department of Justice Director General Kylie Maj said it was a 'first of its kind' event.
'We listened when young people told us they would like 'to bring the outside world in' to celebrate National Reconciliation Week,' Ms Maj said.
'Here at Banksia Hill, it's evident we are taking significant steps to improve outcomes for young people, alongside Aboriginal Community Controlled Organisations, including the introduction of important programs and supports.'
Reconciliation WA's engagement with students at Banksia Hill focused on ways to encourage young people to find and use their voices and take part in ongoing conversations about reconciliation and their futures.
Young people at Banksia Hill were involved in event planning and delivery and were supported by the Corrective Services' Aboriginal Services team and the Aboriginal Justice Transformation unit.
Despite the 'marvellous achievements' of the Banksia Hill event, Mr Dodson believes a lot of work still needs to be done nationally.
'There's a bit more enlightenment in some of our jurisdictions that need to take place, and they better get on with it and make the changes to make things improve for the young people,' he said.
'For our communities, we've got to keep their young people out of harm and out of the attention of the police, which bring them into these places through the courts.'
The event was hosted in partnership with Reconciliation WA.

Orange background

Try Our AI Features

Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:

Comments

No comments yet...

Related Articles

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing
‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

Sydney Morning Herald

timea day ago

  • Sydney Morning Herald

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

This story is part of the June 21 edition of Good Weekend. See all 15 stories. Mark Brandi, the author of five crime novels, starting with Wimmera (published in 2017 and winner of the prestigious British Crime Writers' Association Debut Dagger Award for an Unpublished Manuscript), writes about outsiders: heroin addicts, former prisoners, and child victims of poverty and violence. A look at his family background and his career in Corrective Services before he started writing full-time sheds light on why he is drawn to people on the margins. You were born in 1978 in Italy, the fourth son of migrants who ran a pub in Stawell, in rural Victoria. What was your childhood like? There were great aspects to growing up in the country. We went rabbiting, fishing, yabbying, all that stuff. The flip side was being in a small Victorian town which was very Anglo-Saxon. We were the only Italian family, which was tough, especially in the schoolyard. I couldn't make friends, and I didn't know why. You start to think, 'There's something wrong with me.' Then, some of the kids told me, 'My dad told me not to be friends with you because you're a wog.' Did that childhood experience feed into your interest in writing about people who are outsiders? Yes, definitely. Being an outsider myself created a greater degree of empathy for others on the margins. Plus, when you are on the outside, wanting to be accepted, you start to observe people closely. I was watching kids in the schoolyard – how they spoke, what they talked about – and that observational skill has helped me in my writing. Also, growing up in the pub, where I met people from all walks of life: farmers, police officers, chronic alcoholics, criminals. When I started working behind the bar, my dad always said, 'Don't make judgments about people based on how they look. Talk to them because everyone's got a story they want to share.' And that's what I found over time. You listen to people who might look a bit rough and they often had the most interesting stories. That sparked something inside me. When I sat down to write, it affected the subject matter I was drawn to. Your parents ran the pub successfully for many years. Then in the 1980s, the local police started to harass them. What happened? In the 1980s, there were [false] rumours that we were dealing drugs from the pub. At the time, thanks partly to Robert Trimbole [a prominent Mafia figure of Italian background who was involved in the drug trade in Griffith, in south-west NSW], there was a perception that Italians doing well might be linked to organised crime. The police started to take a keen interest in the pub, showing up regularly, checking patrons' IDs and security logbooks. It was relentless. It seemed like they were trying to drive Dad out of business. It was crazy because he was the most clean-living person you could imagine. Then, one night in 1985, there were people from out of town in the bar, drinking heavily. They started provoking some of the customers to violence, then pulled out their badges and said they were undercover police. They started to arrest patrons indiscriminately, grabbing them from their bar stools by the hair. I was seven and heard it all from my room upstairs. It was terrifying. They took people to the cells, then showed up the next morning and charged Dad with multiple breaches of his licence. When it went to court Dad ended up pleading guilty to illegal gambling on the premises – for having a footy tipping competition on the wall, which every pub in Victoria had at the time. None of the other charges stuck. The police kept up the harassment, and it was unbelievably stressful for my parents. It led to them deciding to sell the pub, which was a bitter pill for my dad. He loved running that pub. You studied criminal justice at Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT) then worked for 10 years in the criminal justice system in Victoria, including as a political adviser to the corrections minister. Tell us about that. I loved studying criminal justice: the law is fascinating, full of drama and good versus evil stories. We learnt about the social determinants of crime and why we label people deviants. After RMIT, I got a placement at the Department of Justice [now Justice and Community Safety], where I worked in multicultural policy, disability policy, emergency services, gambling and other areas. I went into the department a bit as a crusader, wanting to make a difference. That was partly born of that experience in the pub, seeing power exercised unjustly, and the terrible impact it can have on people. I wanted to do something positive, and that led me to work as an adviser to the corrections minister, advising on corrections, emergency services and counterterrorism. I loved that job. 'I don't believe that we are a meritocracy in that jingoistic way we like to believe. I don't think we are the land of the fair go.' Your latest novel, Eden, is about a man who spent time in prison, trying to rebuild his life. What did your work in corrections teach you about the prison system? I learnt that we essentially have the same cohort cycling through the prison system again and again. The recidivism rate is stubbornly stuck on about 40 per cent [on average] Australia-wide. It was dispiriting to see the impotence of some of the initiatives to address the problem. You can't just fix it through the prison or justice system. The broader social justice issue is how you keep people from getting into the prison system in the first place. You have written before about class in Australia. Are we the classless society we like to think we are? No. It's incredibly tough for people to overcome the circumstances that they're born into. I don't believe that we are a meritocracy in that jingoistic way we like to believe. I don't think we are the land of the fair go. A lot of people struggle throughout their lives and are sold this message that if you don't make it, it's your fault. That's not true. There are so many things beyond our control that affect our chances in life. Everyone is doing their best to live a good life; no one is seeking to fail. Let's talk about the role luck has played in your life. In 2010, you had some good luck. What happened? I decided I would like to do some writing, but needed money so I could move to part-time work. My brother suggested I go on Eddie McGuire's Millionaire Hot Seat because I was good at trivia. I thought I'd humiliate myself, but I won $50,000! That enabled me to move to part-time work and start a writing course at RMIT, which was life-changing. In 2012, you were a victim of an equally life-changing piece of bad luck. What happened? I was riding my bike down Brunswick Street in North Fitzroy, a busy area. A car turned right in front of me and didn't see me. It hit me, and I went flying over the handlebars. I had to have two shoulder operations and the recovery was painful; I was out of action for six months. It was unlucky, but in some ways it was a bit of good fortune because it brought things into stark relief for me. I realised it could have been fatal, and I got to thinking about what was important to me in my life. Of course, that was family and those close to me, but also my writing. I realised that I really needed to focus on it and give it a proper go. So I quit my job to jump into the financially precarious world of being a writer. It's a struggle; you can't plan for the future. Forget about super. I rely heavily on government grants. Is it worth it? I absolutely love it. There's nothing else I would want to be doing. When I'm writing a book I love being inside of it, even though my characters are often in difficult circumstances. The two most satisfying things are when I finish a book and I know it's working, and hearing from readers at writers' festivals. That is magic: you've created this imaginary world, and they've gone away and created something bigger out of it, with their own interpretation of it. That's what keeps me coming back to the page. Dogs feature in almost all your books, often in a prominent role. Why? I've always loved dogs. When I was a little kid having a tough time at school we had dogs, and they were my best friends. Dogs have no agenda; it's just unconditional love. They are special to me, so it's inevitable that they end up in my books. I'm paying tribute to their role in my life and the lives of many others. Why did you choose to be photographed in Melbourne General Cemetery for this article? It is just a couple of streets from where I live. My father is buried there, as are his parents, and I've spent a lot of time exploring its sprawling grounds, mostly while walking my dog. Then a few years back, while visiting my father's grave, I encountered someone sleeping rough near one of the mausolea. I began to wonder about what had brought him there. It was the spark that led me to write my latest book, Eden. It features in Eden very prominently.

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing
‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

The Age

timea day ago

  • The Age

‘It could have been fatal': What pushed crime author Mark Brandi to focus on writing

This story is part of the June 21 edition of Good Weekend. See all 15 stories. Mark Brandi, the author of five crime novels, starting with Wimmera (published in 2017 and winner of the prestigious British Crime Writers' Association Debut Dagger Award for an Unpublished Manuscript), writes about outsiders: heroin addicts, former prisoners, and child victims of poverty and violence. A look at his family background and his career in Corrective Services before he started writing full-time sheds light on why he is drawn to people on the margins. You were born in 1978 in Italy, the fourth son of migrants who ran a pub in Stawell, in rural Victoria. What was your childhood like? There were great aspects to growing up in the country. We went rabbiting, fishing, yabbying, all that stuff. The flip side was being in a small Victorian town which was very Anglo-Saxon. We were the only Italian family, which was tough, especially in the schoolyard. I couldn't make friends, and I didn't know why. You start to think, 'There's something wrong with me.' Then, some of the kids told me, 'My dad told me not to be friends with you because you're a wog.' Did that childhood experience feed into your interest in writing about people who are outsiders? Yes, definitely. Being an outsider myself created a greater degree of empathy for others on the margins. Plus, when you are on the outside, wanting to be accepted, you start to observe people closely. I was watching kids in the schoolyard – how they spoke, what they talked about – and that observational skill has helped me in my writing. Also, growing up in the pub, where I met people from all walks of life: farmers, police officers, chronic alcoholics, criminals. When I started working behind the bar, my dad always said, 'Don't make judgments about people based on how they look. Talk to them because everyone's got a story they want to share.' And that's what I found over time. You listen to people who might look a bit rough and they often had the most interesting stories. That sparked something inside me. When I sat down to write, it affected the subject matter I was drawn to. Your parents ran the pub successfully for many years. Then in the 1980s, the local police started to harass them. What happened? In the 1980s, there were [false] rumours that we were dealing drugs from the pub. At the time, thanks partly to Robert Trimbole [a prominent Mafia figure of Italian background who was involved in the drug trade in Griffith, in south-west NSW], there was a perception that Italians doing well might be linked to organised crime. The police started to take a keen interest in the pub, showing up regularly, checking patrons' IDs and security logbooks. It was relentless. It seemed like they were trying to drive Dad out of business. It was crazy because he was the most clean-living person you could imagine. Then, one night in 1985, there were people from out of town in the bar, drinking heavily. They started provoking some of the customers to violence, then pulled out their badges and said they were undercover police. They started to arrest patrons indiscriminately, grabbing them from their bar stools by the hair. I was seven and heard it all from my room upstairs. It was terrifying. They took people to the cells, then showed up the next morning and charged Dad with multiple breaches of his licence. When it went to court Dad ended up pleading guilty to illegal gambling on the premises – for having a footy tipping competition on the wall, which every pub in Victoria had at the time. None of the other charges stuck. The police kept up the harassment, and it was unbelievably stressful for my parents. It led to them deciding to sell the pub, which was a bitter pill for my dad. He loved running that pub. You studied criminal justice at Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology (RMIT) then worked for 10 years in the criminal justice system in Victoria, including as a political adviser to the corrections minister. Tell us about that. I loved studying criminal justice: the law is fascinating, full of drama and good versus evil stories. We learnt about the social determinants of crime and why we label people deviants. After RMIT, I got a placement at the Department of Justice [now Justice and Community Safety], where I worked in multicultural policy, disability policy, emergency services, gambling and other areas. I went into the department a bit as a crusader, wanting to make a difference. That was partly born of that experience in the pub, seeing power exercised unjustly, and the terrible impact it can have on people. I wanted to do something positive, and that led me to work as an adviser to the corrections minister, advising on corrections, emergency services and counterterrorism. I loved that job. 'I don't believe that we are a meritocracy in that jingoistic way we like to believe. I don't think we are the land of the fair go.' Your latest novel, Eden, is about a man who spent time in prison, trying to rebuild his life. What did your work in corrections teach you about the prison system? I learnt that we essentially have the same cohort cycling through the prison system again and again. The recidivism rate is stubbornly stuck on about 40 per cent [on average] Australia-wide. It was dispiriting to see the impotence of some of the initiatives to address the problem. You can't just fix it through the prison or justice system. The broader social justice issue is how you keep people from getting into the prison system in the first place. You have written before about class in Australia. Are we the classless society we like to think we are? No. It's incredibly tough for people to overcome the circumstances that they're born into. I don't believe that we are a meritocracy in that jingoistic way we like to believe. I don't think we are the land of the fair go. A lot of people struggle throughout their lives and are sold this message that if you don't make it, it's your fault. That's not true. There are so many things beyond our control that affect our chances in life. Everyone is doing their best to live a good life; no one is seeking to fail. Let's talk about the role luck has played in your life. In 2010, you had some good luck. What happened? I decided I would like to do some writing, but needed money so I could move to part-time work. My brother suggested I go on Eddie McGuire's Millionaire Hot Seat because I was good at trivia. I thought I'd humiliate myself, but I won $50,000! That enabled me to move to part-time work and start a writing course at RMIT, which was life-changing. In 2012, you were a victim of an equally life-changing piece of bad luck. What happened? I was riding my bike down Brunswick Street in North Fitzroy, a busy area. A car turned right in front of me and didn't see me. It hit me, and I went flying over the handlebars. I had to have two shoulder operations and the recovery was painful; I was out of action for six months. It was unlucky, but in some ways it was a bit of good fortune because it brought things into stark relief for me. I realised it could have been fatal, and I got to thinking about what was important to me in my life. Of course, that was family and those close to me, but also my writing. I realised that I really needed to focus on it and give it a proper go. So I quit my job to jump into the financially precarious world of being a writer. It's a struggle; you can't plan for the future. Forget about super. I rely heavily on government grants. Is it worth it? I absolutely love it. There's nothing else I would want to be doing. When I'm writing a book I love being inside of it, even though my characters are often in difficult circumstances. The two most satisfying things are when I finish a book and I know it's working, and hearing from readers at writers' festivals. That is magic: you've created this imaginary world, and they've gone away and created something bigger out of it, with their own interpretation of it. That's what keeps me coming back to the page. Dogs feature in almost all your books, often in a prominent role. Why? I've always loved dogs. When I was a little kid having a tough time at school we had dogs, and they were my best friends. Dogs have no agenda; it's just unconditional love. They are special to me, so it's inevitable that they end up in my books. I'm paying tribute to their role in my life and the lives of many others. Why did you choose to be photographed in Melbourne General Cemetery for this article? It is just a couple of streets from where I live. My father is buried there, as are his parents, and I've spent a lot of time exploring its sprawling grounds, mostly while walking my dog. Then a few years back, while visiting my father's grave, I encountered someone sleeping rough near one of the mausolea. I began to wonder about what had brought him there. It was the spark that led me to write my latest book, Eden. It features in Eden very prominently.

Public Trustee wants WA government to cut fees for most vulnerable
Public Trustee wants WA government to cut fees for most vulnerable

ABC News

time4 days ago

  • ABC News

Public Trustee wants WA government to cut fees for most vulnerable

The state agency in charge of managing the assets of people deemed incapable of making their own decisions says the government should help pay for services for its most vulnerable clients. Public trustees manage the finances and assets of people with impaired decision-making abilities, for example due to a head injury or dementia – annually, fees can range in the five-figures depending on the services provided. Around the country they are mostly self-funded by charging some clients higher fees to subsidise others who can't pay. In WA and Queensland, the agencies are completely self-funded. In a rare public appearance, WA Public Trustee Brian Roche said he believed the state government should help subsidise those who can't afford the trustee's fees. "There probably should be a partial appropriation to offset those that don't have capacity to pay," he said. Mr Roche made the comment while fronting a parliamentary committee. "We currently operate under what is termed as a self-funding model … we're meant to generate sufficient income to pay all of our expenses," he said. "We operate under whatever regime the government of the day has put in place. "Governments have choices … we don't [necessarily] have to charge any fees." The self-funding model was implemented in 2008 under Colin Barnett's Liberal government. The Public Trustee is bound by confidentiality provisions which forbid him from commenting on individual cases, and in WA the Department of Justice typically responds to media enquiries on his behalf. Do you know more about this story? Contact Cason Ho Do you know more about this story? Contact Cason Ho There has been increasing scrutiny in recent years amid allegations of public trustees charging exorbitant fees while providing questionable care. Mr Roche said the Public Trustee was unable to provide important details to the media about cases because of the constraints. But some clients and advocates say the confidentiality provisions mean there's no transparency. The WA Law Reform Commission is reviewing the state's Guardianship and Administration Act. In 2023, the WA government committed to implementing an independent advisory board for the Public Trustee and developing a new fee model.

DOWNLOAD THE APP

Get Started Now: Download the App

Ready to dive into a world of global content with local flavor? Download Daily8 app today from your preferred app store and start exploring.
app-storeplay-store