The caption I wrote that accompanied this:
‘One day a woman will come along and you will fall in love. She will rip your trap door off, push you from your pedestal and break every single inch of you on the way down.’
This woman who stole my heart, stripped me bare and left a broken mess to rebuild, was me.
I pray she stays. I hope she always has the strength to rip open calcified trap door, after trap door so that what can remain, exist is the very raw, real essence of me. My identity.
I am and have always been obsessed with cat’s eyes, the operculum shell. For those who are not familiar, this shell grows and serves as a protective filter, a trap door for snails of the sea.
Identity politics for black women, in an era where ‘wokeness’ has become a marketable commodity, is an extremely difficult and confusing terrain for me to navigate.
Amidst the intellectualisation, capitalisation, sexualisation, all the other ‘isations’ that follow misrepresentation and colonisation, is the sedimentary story of black women’s pain. Sharing my experience of racism makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. Despite my strength, bravery, survival skills and years of experience there are still times when it is safer to keep my mouth taped shut.
The 21st of March is Happy Harmony Day which coincides with the United Nations International Day for the Elimination of Racial Discrimination.
This blog is about sharing truths.
In the light of living a sense of oneness, which is what consciousness suggests humanity is, by simply stating who I am, where I am from and where I live, there are truths that reveal we have a lot of work to do. Racism and discrimination fuel the oppressive systems which hold everyone in humanity back from oneness and in a space of some not others. Safety and freedom are still a privilege.
I am Catikina Meri Tolai.
My paperwork name is Catherine Nicole Murray. I was born in April, 1975 at Kokopo hospital, East New Britain, Papua New Guinea. On the 16thof September 1975 Papua New Guinea gained Independence from Australia. West Papua, Merdeka, is the other half of my Country. My People continue to fight for their freedom.
If they are not free, I am not free. If we are not free, you are not free.
I am a Tolai. I am a Melanesian, Austaralian. I am Scottish and I am English.
My father is a white Australian and my mother is Melanesian, a Papua New Guinean. Terms used to label me are Australasian, Melanesian, of Scottish and British descent, black, coloured, mixed race. The list goes on and includes terminology that I won’t waste my time on.
I identify with being black and I am Indigenous.
I live on Karta pinntingga, Island of the Dead, Kangaroo Island, the colony of Australia. It is still a controversial issue here whether Indigenous Australians can claim this area as Indigenous land. It is an issue all over Australia whether Indigenous Australians will be granted Sovereignty over their home or not. To date we are the only country in the Commonwealth who has not signed a Treaty with Indigenous peoples.
I always clarify that while I identify as being Indigenous, I am Indigenous to Papua New Guinea, not Australia. This is one way I can show my support in wanting Indigenous Peoples in Australia to achieve Sovereignty and to acknowledge our shared but different histories.
Calcified layers of protection and trapdoors. For me this has been the defence system I designed to protect myself against a lifetime of racist aggressions. It is the endless cyclical journey of my relationship with self in what is still an unjust world. Identity. I am.
We are authentically black.
When the outside world negates, describes and suggests my identity, I strip all the expectations back. I remember I need no reasoning or justification to describe or defend the fact that I am Indigenous and black. I just am. I am a living history in the making. I refuse to let my existence be squeezed into an anniversary or recognised for a singular day or month.
I wish my Sistas and peoples respect, strength and joy.
So much love to you.
Catikina Meri Tolai.
Artist.
Intersectional Feminist.
Arts Therapist.
How powerful would it be, if we could share what being black means through our eyes?
If instead of educating and lecturing other people, we could let them in in our lives, share our struggles, fears, and joy, while raise awareness about our identities?
Our vulnerability and rawness are much more powerful than us teaching you about racism. You can walk in our shoes and learn about the emotional response your actions might have caused.This is the idea behind “Identities”. A bi-weekly series where real humans will share real human stories.
Check our intro post to find out more about this project and, if you wanna write for us, check this post! We will be opening soon to other identities ❤
2 Responses
Beautifully written with pain and raw emotions present to which make the words sting making an impact 🐝 💯 👏
Cat’s writing is poetry!! I loved this blog post sooo much. Thank you for tuning in!!