| Jack: |
My name’s Jack. |
| Sue: |
Pleased to meet you, Jack. |
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So, you know how this works? |
| Jack: |
Yeah, I know. |
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I don’t swear too much around adults so don’t worry I’m not like some others around here. |
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Mum would crack it if she found out I said bad things. |
| Sue: |
I appreciate that. |
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You right to start? |
| Jack: |
Just for the record, Sue, I don’t like stories and I don’t like writing stories. I’m not good at it. |
| Sue: |
See how you go. Telling and recording a story can be much easier than writing it down. |
| Jack: |
Still don’t want to do it. |
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Okay … |
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First up, I know I talk like Mum and Nan. But that’s the way I’ve been grown up. Everyone here says I’m old-fashioned but I don’t care. |
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I’m from the bush, Sue; sometimes we talk different to the ones in the big towns and the cities. Ya see, I’m not urban like most of ’em here. |
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Sue? |
| Sue: |
Mate, I’m listening and I understand. |
| Jack: |
Ya do? Cool! |
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So, this is how it is. I’m not black. But my family are. |
| Sue: |
Great start. |
| Jack: |
Mum, Dad and Gran are all Koorie. They’re part of a big Aboriginal family from down south. Gran is Dad’s mum, she’s been living with us since I was eight. |
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I’m seventeen now. Grandad’s still kickin’ but he doesn’t live with us anymore. |
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That’s a whole other yarn. |
| Sue: |
Sounds interesting. |
| Jack: |
Mum and Dad … I mean my blackfella Mum and Dad couldn’t have kids, that’s the first part. Second part is some white girl named Rayleen got pregnant with a white bloke from South Australia. |
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We don’t know his name and neither does Rayleen. |
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Good on ya, Rayleen. |
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So, she had me on the fifth of February, that’s my birthday. |
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Rayleen worked out she couldn’t party much with me hanging off her hip or tit or wherever I was supposed to be hanging from, so she gave me away to her next-door neighbours. |
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Can you just give ya kid away? |
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|
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You right, Sue? |
| Sue: |
Sorry, mate. |
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All good. |
| Jack: |
Well, the neighbours didn’t have any kids, and, I’m not lying, they were on IVF. They were trying for a test-tube baby. |
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I know, who would have thought. Mum said I had beautiful milky skin, big green eyes and mousy brown hair. |
| Sue: |
And now you’re blond. |
| Jack: |
Yeah, funny that, eh? |
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So … my new family couldn’t wait to look after me proper. |
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Apparently Rayleen and I partied hard for the first few months. |
| Sue: |
Laugh out loud. |
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And the adoption’s all legal? |
| Jack: |
Yep! Papers were signed and everything was made right. |
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All them do-gooders who think blackfullas aren’t good enough to look after their own kids, well, there’s their curve ball. |
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My blackfulla family had to look after us white kids too. |
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Eh, Sue? |
| Sue: |
Too right. |
| Jack: |
And they’re the kindest … amazing … lovingest people I know. |
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Is lovingest a word? |
| Sue: |
It is now. |
| Jack: |
You’re funny. |
| Sue: |
Do you know what happened to Rayleen? |
| Jack: |
Yeah! |
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Dear White Rayleen walked away and did the same thing, not once … not twice … but, wait for it … |
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Three more times! |
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Yep, I’ve got two half-brothers and a sister, and Rayleen didn’t want any of us. Thankfully, fathers, other family members and neighbours came to the rescue. |
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No pity, we’re all good, we’re all better off. Rayleen had the brainpower to hand us on. I reckon she was good like that, eh! |