Tree of life
One year ago, Vogue marked its 60th birthday with a ceremonial tree-planting at Sydney’s Barangaroo Reserve that included a Welcome to Country and ancient smoking ceremony guided by Wiradjuri woman Yvonne Weldon. Here, Weldon reflects on what’s transpired
tree was for Vogue’s 60th anniversary, it was also a reflection on creation – how many years have gone by and how many years will continue to be. I certainly think having Edward [Enninful, editor-in-chief of British Vogue] out here with Vogue Australia’s Edwina on that special day meant those links beyond our shores were strengthened, as was the goodwill of how much more we can keep growing internally within Australia.
The tree-planting and the way it was done with the Vogue team shows we can always evolve and once you set down your roots and foundations, you can also change. What we’ve seen in the past 12 months since that day is that there was so much optimism and direction that we all wanted, and then life took us in a completely different direction, one none of us could have predicted. When I think about the journey over that time, it’s been such a blessing to be a part of the Vogue family and to see how Vogue is maintaining a larger footprint in the minds of people by addressing issues that probably haven’t been talked about before, if ever. To me, that’s pretty special, and the symbolism of the tree as it grows, with the wisdom through those branches and leaves, is that it will live on after all of us.
There’s definitely been a shift, a movement recently, and when you see what has taken place across the globe in terms of Black Lives Matter, or Deaths in Custody in this country, we’re only on the start of that journey, as no one really wants to talk about the deep-rooted issues. The fact that some parts of the media will sensationalise events, because that sells papers, rather than really address the issues, is the greatest concern. We have the opportunity to share what we know so we can change, because if we don’t do it together, we won’t do it at all.
In this new year, I hope we talk less about social distancing and more about social connections. I believe the messaging around Covid-safe practices should never have been about our social connections – it should have been about physicality and how we spread things rather than shedding and cutting things. Our connections as people are more relevant today than ever. I hope we shake that concept of separation out of our psyche. We’re human beings. We don’t enter the world on our own. We come from life and we give life, and I’m hopeful we start to move beyond standing alone and are stronger together. Because at the moment, the world has spun in such a way that we are frightened. We’re told we can’t hug and we shouldn’t be socially connected and we should be socially distanced, but that’s not what we need. Although we need to be physically distancing and managing our health, we don’t need to be disconnected. Now, more than ever before, we need to be more connected.
I think the tree is saying we stand among many. We shouldn’t be alone and can only grow if we nurture each other in a way that is respectful of our environment and our elements. The greatest respect you need to give is to yourself, because if you can’t give it to yourself you can’t give it to others.
What the independent spirit of Barangaroo (the Cammeraygal woman this harbour precinct is named after) represents today, is a sense that her impact is continuing to flourish. I truly feel the stand against settlers she took all those years ago remains powerful in the
WHILE PLANTING THIS
present because (and I’m not denigrating our men) our women continue to do that beyond ourselves. Barangaroo is proud of us. She will continue to create opportunities in places where there aren’t any to make that difference. That’s what we all need to do.
From my perspective, with this tree and those that surround it, this can only ever be a point in time. There’s so much time that went before us, and we don’t know what took place here. When I consider Me-mel (a.k.a Goat Island) – which you can see from the vantage of where the tree is planted – it’s quite a spiritual place and is called the Eye of the Eel because from an aerial view, you see the body of the eel as it spreads out to the suburb now known as Parramatta. That’s why Parramatta – from the Aboriginal name Burramatta – makes reference to the eel: Me-mel is the eye of the eel and that eye is a view for everything around it and holds wisdom. For this tree to be in the view of the Eye of the Eel means it will continue to support the wisdom that all of us shared in planting the tree that day, gaining strength from the roots growing in the land of the ancestors, and spreading that wisdom long after our time.
Yvonne Weldon is a Wiradjuri woman and a member and chairperson of the Metropolitan Local Aboriginal Land Council (Metro LALC).
“I think the tree is saying we are among many. We shouldn’t be standing alone and we will only continue to grow if we nurture each other”