Camillas Hemsida

Camilla Svensson
ENA 202

My Place

December 26, 1987

Dear Diary,
My name is Sally Morgan and I’m 36 years old. Yesterday, Paul, my husband, gave me this diary as a Christmas gift. I have never written a diary before, so I don´t really know how to talk to you. I guess I’ll just write down what comes into my mind. Paul said I might need you. You see, the last few years have been really revolutionary for me. I have just published a book, My Place, and although it has been difficult many times, I am so relieved now and proud that I finally made it. I intend to use you to sort my feelings out, and to tell you what writing this book has given me as an individual.
I don’t know where to begin. My head is so full of thoughts and feelings now. Well, I can start from the beginning and tell you what gave me the idea of writing a book. When I was about seven years old kids at school started asking me where my family came from. I didn’t know what to say! I had never wondered myself. I always thougt we were like everybody else. But my schoolmates were very inquisitive. After having asked my Mum I told them I was Indian. When I was fifteen I found out that that wasn’t true. We were Aboriginal. I felt I didn’t really know who I was. I had only vague knowledge about the Aborigines. A strong will to find out more about my origines developed from this diffusion. Then there was this TV that we, that is my family of six, got in the year of 1960. Dad died that year and we did not have much money, but fortunately, Mum somehow managed to keep the television. I actually think it did more to us than warm clothes or extra beds ever could. It gave us a way out, and it made me personally more aware of the world around me. It helped to open my eyes. I was already a very curious child, but I think the TV made me more eager to find out what was out there.
Nan, my grandmother, felt extremely awkward about my idea of writing the book, but she was actually one major reason for it’s coming into being. She was by nature very reticent about her past. It was obvious she had experienced things she was ashamed, or perhaps frightened, of. I did not know at the time, but I decided to find out what it was that tortured her so.
 

January 12, 1988

Dear Diary,
By God, forgive me! I’ve had too much to do during the children’s holidays. First I didn’t find time to write, and then (horror!) I forgot I had you. Paul asked me earlier today how I liked to write down my thoughts. Then I remembered, and I promise, I shall not forget you again.
My book has already been sold in many copies, and that makes me happy. Not because of any money, but because I really feel I have something important to tell. During all my research I found out that the Aboriginal people really have something to be proud of, but instead, too many feel ashamed of what they are. Many white people have treated the blacks as if they were nothing better than a piece of trash. The Aboriginals were considered sub-normal and not capable of being educated the way whites were. If an Aboriginal woman got pregnant with a white man, she was not allowed to keep the white baby because she was not considered fit to raise a child with white blood. I always thought Australia was different to America, but we had slavery here, too. Aboriginals were owned by white people and forced to work for them, often very hard and for no money. Many blacks were killed, sometimes just for fun! Things like these made people like my Nan ashamed of their heritage. She had nothing to be ashamed of! I want lots of people to read my book. I want them to realize what cruel treatment the Aborigines have had to pull up with and I want them to realize how important it is to keep culture and family together. And I want to tell everyone: follow your dreams. Even if other people think that your dream is silly or they think that you haven't got the ability to achieve it, just don't listen to the negative stuff. You know, you've got to follow your dreams because if you have enough determination you will get there. You will get there eventually - just don't let other people put you off.
 

January 15, 1988

Dear Diary,
I wanted to know the truth and I needed that information to understand myself and the way our family interacted with each other because other people had always said you're different or what country did you come from. We just didn't fit into the community and I wanted to know why we didn't fit. I’m so glad now that I made it all the way. All that research and all those conversations with aunties, uncles, Mum and Nan gave me so much. But, gee, it was hard sometimes! At first, it was very difficult to get information. I knew Nan could tell me so much, but she just refused. It made me angry, and I could not possibly understand why she wouldn’t help her own granddaughter. I was clutching at straws. And then, the information I did get was a bit difficult to deal with. It brought so many emotions, both to me and my family. It was, and still is, upsetting for us all. We’d lived in a cocoon of sorts for so long that we all found it difficult to come to terms with the experiences and terrible time our people had been through. It was important knowledge, but painful.
 

January 19, 1988

Dear Diary,
Today I’ve been thinking a lot about what I gained from writing the book. I have learnt to be proud of my Aboriginal heritage. I hope that every person who reads My Place will develop a pride for who he or she is.
Five years ago I travelled with Mum north to the Pilbara area of Western Australia where Nan was born to find out more. We went up and we met our relatives, our extended family. We met grandpas and grandmas, uncles, aunties and cousins and that was fantastic for us because all of a sudden we had a context. We had a big family; we weren't just this small isolated family in the non-Aboriginal community. We were part of this huge family and that really gave us a sense of belonging. That was very important. I sincerely think it is important for you as an individual to know who you are and not to deny it. I know I would survive even if I hadn’t done all this, but not as a whole person. I would never have understood Nan’s bitterness and fear. I would never have found out my identity. I would never have known my place.
 
 
 

Camilla Svensson

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