Black joy: why Ash Barty’s Wimbledon win was a triumph of Indigenous struggle and strength
Naidoc Week almost got cancelled this year and it wasn’t “because of Covid”. From Santos instructing us to “heal country” while they destroyed ours, to Channel 10 showing a comedian encouraging racial slurs, Blackfullas had had enough, and it was only Monday.
But by Saturday night, the Barty party arrived right on time, reclaiming Naidoc like Barkaa was reclaiming land in her new single, King Brown, which also was released midweek. Ash Barty, a proud Ngaragu woman, made history when she won the Wimbledon ladies singles.
And man did it bring us the Naidoc joy we so desperately needed – so much so that there were calls for an extension to Naidoc Week festivities.
But look, in our defence, the Barty party was epic and we were all here for the after party. Not only was it Naidoc Week but it was the 50th anniversary of Evonne Goolagong’s first Wimbledon win, and the 10-year anniversary of Barty’s first junior title. Ash’s playing outfit was even inspired by the dress Aunty Evonne wore.
And as media reports attributed the emotion surrounding her historic win as “the first Australian” (pardon the pun) to win Wimbledon in over 40 years, Blackfulla Twitter were quick to correct the record.
As a people who are hypervisible in public discourse in our supposed deviance, Blackfullas were not having erasure in our moment of excellence. The First Nations congregation of Twitter insisted on foregrounding Barty’s Indigeneity in the Blackest of ways.
Meanwhile, the mob were quick to award a confirmation of Aboriginality to sister Mel Jones for representing in that shirt. It’s a well-known fact that Blackfullas can spot an Aboriginal flag a mile off and, as the camera panned past that shirt in the crowd watching Ash, Blackfullas were trying to work out whose cousin it was that made it all the way to Wimbledon.
Mel Jones, of course, has West Indian heritage but that didn’t bother Blackfulla Twitter – she now has life membership to the mob.
And look, that moment when Barty spotted that shirt, that lone representation of the Aboriginal flag, on the international stage, so far away from home, in that place of all places, was a moment that brought so many of us joy.
Jones’s response in the aftermath too was pretty special. Barely able to breathe she exclaimed: “Ash in the dress, Naidoc week back home, just killed it … She pointed at me, I don’t get emotional much but this is the moment”.
And we were all in that moment. A moment of joy – but most notably Black joy, which hits differently than the sounds of “Aussie pride” we are so familiar with on the international sporting arena.
You see Black joy is not like any other kind of joy, certainly not Blackfulla joy anyway.
It has a distinct cultural context and you only have to look to Blackfulla Twitter to see that.
Blackfulla joy is laughing so hard you snort.
Blackfulla joy is political.
Blackfulla joy is a form of resistance, and it too is redemptive and restorative. Blackfulla joy is theoretical. Blackfulla joy is making our old people proud and our young ones smile.
Blackfulla joy is not being able to talk without tearing up.
The most instructive display of the uniqueness of Blackfulla joy was witnessed not when Barty was handed the silverware, but in the immediate aftermath of that win. It was the image of Ash, as the lone figure hunched over on the court while the world watched on, catching her breath as she experienced what she described as “an overwhelming ride of joy”.
That moment captured what Blackfulla joy feels like. So powerful, it feels like you’ve had the wind knocked out of you.
While so many juxtaposed the images of Ash and Aunty Evonne holding those trophies, it was Blackfulla Twitter that too reminded the world what Blackfulla joy actually looks like.
What makes Blackfulla joy so uniquely special, what makes those winning moments so damn overwhelming, is that we know too well the struggle of the journey travelled to get to it, not just for ourselves but for all of those who came before us.
Blackfulla joy is not just found in the jokes, the wins, the parties and celebrations – it is witnessed too in that silence, that moment of remembering who we are, where we come from and who too is coming behind us. Barty, in her reflection post-win, declared: “We are family, we’re connected to the land, we’re connected to each other.”
It is in these moments of Blackfulla joy that we are reminded of our connection to each other, not just in our shared pain, but in our strength and in our beauty.
Chelsea Watego is a Munanjahli and South Sea Islander woman and an associate professor at The University of Queensland. She is a founding board member of Inala Wangarra and director of the Institute for Collaborative Race Research.