its voodoo in my springtime

Maybe I am them. Maybe I resist, I fight, I try but I open my mouth and maybe I am them. Invader. I have only the right to concur. To agree. I am not you. I am not an authentic voice my knowledge comes from a class room not from experience. But write culture out of a city and create a vacuum. Write kids out of the city. where are they then, this non space.Culture is not site specific. Culture isn’t frozen imbedded in the last native tree on st georges terrace. I don’t want to be a positivist. And maybe that’s what Len taught me at Murdoch, his culture is strong his language coming back, his dads stories strong his country wudjuck bibbumen strong, himself strong proud pissed off. I know its not everyones experience and he was lucky to have language still and country. but im never going to say that noongar cultures gone or dead or buried or alien to city because I know some crew who have resisted and persisted for too long to be written out like that. I don’t know why I am doing this study when u step out of the classroom none of it matters, none of its real. No one thinks about the construction of identity, they just do it. Who am I to challenge it either, I have no lived experience what I am doing is writing other peoples identity like I own it fuck it, fuck it. Colonizing lived experience with academic identity politics, i should have done accounting.

im really out of sync. two steps behind. mouthing words to songs that were playing yesterday. i cant talk to people i know or the ones that i dont. its interesting and frustrating.