Oh hey,
I’m interrupting the usual Sunday (Monday) Dose with exciting news!
My auntie Gill’s documentary Kindred premiered on NITV and SBS last night for Reconciliation Week. You can now watch it On Demand.
I was going to write a brief snippet about the film, along with other recommendations like I usually do, but when I started writing, I felt compelled to explore the doco, adoption and my family further.
This happens sometimes. I start writing and realise there’s shit that needs to be said. That’s what happened here. Then I felt this piece deserved one final edit this morning, hence the late delivery.
So this week, you get an essay! Enjoy x
To Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander readers: The following post contains images of people who have died.
I have two adopted aunties. Gill is a Wodi Wodi/Dharawal woman born in Nowra, New South Wales, and Kym is of Sri Lankan/Malaysian descent born in Sydney.
This is my first time writing about Kym and Gill’s heritage. I’ve never really spoken about it, either. Their adoption was a non-issue for me.
Of course, I was aware of our differences — Kym and Gill have dark skin, and I have white — but it wasn’t something I consciously contemplated. They’re my aunties. Plain and simple. I didn’t question it.
My aunties with long curly hair and colourful nails who let me smoke in the car when I was 16. My aunties who bought me copious snacks to watch movies until all hours of the night in the red rumpus room. The aunties with silver rings on every finger, like I do now. My cool aunties, not my adopted aunties.
I could see my blind acceptance as a positive sign of Gill and Kym’s sense of belonging in the family — they’re Moody’s through and through, even more “Moody” than me — but now I think about it, my non-contemplation was also pretty self-involved. Their adoption may not have been an issue for me, but it has, of course, been an issue for them.
I saw Kym and Gill again when I went to Sydney last year to visit my grandma before she died. My grandma, who I call Mumma, sat slumped in the chair, blankets draped across her frail shoulders and a crochet beanie that had recently become her signature look.
The family sat in chairs around her, drinking tea, a cocoon of love and concern, while Gill fussed around her, exhibiting prime mother energy like she often does.
Gill doesn't have children, but she embodies the archetypal mother role like nobody else (My friend Andjelka recently told me about the Triple Goddess archetypes, which I will explore soon).
It's a strange thing when someone is dying. You don't know what to say. We were all there because Mumma was in her final months, but, of course, you can't say that yet everything else seemed ridiculously unimportant.
In one of these awkward moments, my auntie, Lucy, suggested we watch Gill's new documentary, Kindred. The rest of the family had attended the Sydney premiere months earlier, but I hadn't seen it yet.
Just like I blindly accepted Gill as my auntie, I've also unquestioningly accepted her film career. Gill is a formidable, well-respected filmmaker (Family Rules, Blue Water Empire, Mystery Road, Black Divaz, Katele). This is just fact. I’ve always felt proud, but I’m more conscious of it now.
“Kindred explores what it feels like living in two worlds, one black and one white. It looks at the importance of discovering your place in the world and realising that home and love can truly be found in the people and places your heart connects to.”
Kindred is a documentary co-written and co-directed by Gill and her best friend, Wonnarua man, Adrian Russell Wills (RDFS, The Newsreader, Redfern Now, Black Divas). “Best friends” doesn't aptly describe their friendship. As you'll see in the film, Gill and Adrian are soul mates.
Before my Auntie Lucy pressed play, my eight-year-old cousin Jimmi handed me a couple of tissues and said, “You’re going to cry.” Jimmi was right. I did cry. Kindred is moving in a million different ways.
Gill and Adrian both grew up in the whitest suburbs in Sydney and experienced a lot of racism. They felt a profound sense of disconnection being away from Country, like something integral to their identity was missing.
Reconnecting with family and culture has been an evolving process, with challenging moments. As Gill and Adrian share, it’s strange to meet people who look like you but are essentially strangers. Kindred shows the complexities of living in two worlds, “the black world and the white one”.
As filmmakers, Gill and Adrian have documented a lot of their lives, and Kindred balances archival footage (my grandad also loved filming) with interviews with family, which brings context to their stories. One of the most moving pieces of footage is when Gill meets her birth mum, Geraldine, for the first time — totally joyous!
The film is careful to communicate that although Gill and Adrian’s experiences share similarities, they also have differences. Adrian’s experience with an adoptive family wasn’t as positive as Gill’s, and along with feeling alienated as an Aboriginal man living in the eighties, Adrian felt alienated as a gay man, too.
Less than 20 minutes into watching Kindred, a thought came into my mind—my auntie has lived this whole other life and has this whole other family, and I knew little about it.
Why didn't I ask about Gill's experience as a Wodi Wodi/Dharawal woman growing up in possibly the whitest part of Sydney? Why didn't I ask about her meeting her birth mum, Geraldine? Why was there so much in Kindred that I didn’t know?
I could let myself off the hook by saying Gill lives in Sydney, so I barely see her, and when I do, the swirling family vortex is too strong to have the space to ask, "So how do you feel about being adopted?" But I could've picked up the phone.
After Kindred finished, the family reflected on Gill's adoption. It was the first time I heard them talk about it, and it was strange, but also special because we were being real, and I was present for it.
At Mumma's funeral, Adrian sat at the back of the church, just like he did at Papa's funeral 20 years ago. I felt compelled to say something. I walked up to him and said, "Thank you for being Gill's friend."
Maybe it was stupid for me to say, but I felt immense gratitude for Adrian then. I felt gratitude for his solid, never-wavering presence in Gill’s life, and for being there in the most difficult moments. I felt even more grateful when he looked at me strangely and replied, "Of course," like, of course, the water was wet. At that moment, Adrian showed me what love is.
I watched Kindred again last night, and when Gill, Adrian, and Gill’s cousin/brother, Lee, discussed the challenges of living in “the black world and the white world,” it made me think that perhaps one of the reasons Gill and Adrian (and Lee) are soulmates is that their bond exists in the meeting of these two worlds. Their love exists beyond.
Since watching the film at Mumma's house on one of the last days with her before she died, I've been thinking about all the stories I don't know about because I didn’t take the time to ask.
In an ABC interview, Adrian said, "If there's anything I've learnt in making this film, it's that I think the best thing anyone can do in their life is tell their story. Good, bad or indifferent.”
What have I learned from Kindred? Everyone has a story, even my family. And as easy as it is to take the people closest to me for granted, to think I know enough—sometimes too much—it's their stories I learn the most from.
Kindred premiered on NITV and SBS last night for Reconciliation Week. You can now watch it On Demand.
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Looking forward to watching it. Beautiful writing Nai.
So insightful and wise dear niece, you have your own unique gift of being the conduit in beautiful prose of the true essence of the complexity of relationships. Your piece also produced the tears of which our Kin have experienced, thank you Naomi x