It is assumed that by now the widely known UNESCO statement about the value of vernacular literacy has achieved the status of “common sense” knowledge among those interested in the schooling of minority language groups. The term “common sense” here implies that although there is much that is sound in a common sense view, there is also the danger of oversimplification. Although strongly in favour of bilingual education, both educationally and in terms of the ethics of racial contact, I see a number of areas where an oversimplified approach to it can bring either some harm with the good or at least lessen the effectiveness of the use of the vernacular language in education. The “initial literacy in the vernacular” approach is not a panacea for all minority group educational problems. The article by Joy Kinslow-Harris (1968), probably the best single statement made on the value of vernacular education for Australian Aboriginals, was a profound call for a basic change in attitude towards the education of Aboriginals, and outlined sound starting procedures. While this paper strongly supports Kinslow-Harris’s statement, it wishes also to extend understanding of some important theoretical issues.

The purpose of this paper is to illustrate some of the problems associated with the monolingual approach to the education of Aboriginal children. It does not set out to cover all of the problems experienced by vernacular-speaking children when English only is used as the medium of their primary formal education. By revealing some of the main areas of difficulty, though, it is hoped that bilingual education will be seen as a valuable tool for overcoming many of the problems.

In June this year a Central Australian excursion was organized by the Department of Labor and Ceduna Area School for seven of the school’s secondary Aboriginal students. With the exception of Keith Peters, a first year student who had recently come to Ceduna from Yalata, the students had had very little contact with the tribal way of life. They were ignorant of Aboriginal customs and laws, and in some respects this ignorance had led to contempt or fear. Some of the boys were, for example, terrified that they could be taken and forcibly initiated, so that, when on the first evening of the trip we were stopped by some Yalata people on the road south of Coober Pedy, they begged us to drive on, and hid their faces under blankets in the back seat. The second night (Saturday June 21st) we camped out for the first time just north of the turn-off to Indulkana. Keith, a great comedian, but at this stage not well-known to, or accepted by, the others in the group, decided to stir them up by mentioning that there were “wild nungas” in the area. This raised considerable alarm and for the rest of the night few of the boys dared to leave the campfire without a strong stick and a friend as a bodyguard.

I feel that there is an immediate need for teachers coming into contact with a new Aboriginal community to evaluate themselves not only professionally, but also socio-culturally.

The hazards and pitfalls of acculturation interchanges are too numerous and complicated to enumerate, and it is incumbent upon the new teacher to ‘establish’ himself (or herself) initially in the new environment. The community is only too cognizant of the behaviour and actions of a new member in its midst, and once the Aboriginals establish ‘you’ in their mental structure, then acceptance gradually comes. The reasons for culture conflict are manifold, and we, as teachers, must be careful not to use these as an excuse for indifference and neglect of our ‘client’ community.

The bringing of Aboriginal culture to European children as well as urbanised Aborigines has long been a fundamental concern. I guess that my four years in a tribal situation (Indulkana, S.A.) brought the situation even more realistically to me. I often wondered what the reaction of teachers was when it came to the time to “do Aborigines” in the Social Studies curriculum, or on National Aborigines’ Day. Even for the most sympathetic teacher, the lack of materials, books and references etc. must have made the task daunting. All too often, I suspect that the subject was mentioned, glossed over and forgotten as quickly as possible, and for that, from a resource point of view, one cannot blame the teacher.

I wanted to become a teacher-aide after I heard of an experimental project in a Brisbane school where Aboriginal people were asked to be part of the school and part of the classrooms to help the Aboriginal children attending the school. I applied at three schools in the Inala district because I live in this district, my children go to school here, and my sister-in-law is a teacher-aide at one of the schools in the district.

I thought it would be really great if I could get a job like that. I could be at the school with my two children and work the same hours as them. After I found out that I had got the job at the same school that my children attend, I didn’t have a clue what work I’d be doing. My sister-in-law told me a few things, and after I had been for an interview, I had a better idea. But I still didn’t expect to be working with the children – doing sums and reading.

Australian society offers its major rewards to people who live in cities. Whether in employment, entertainment, housing, or welfare facilities, urban centres can generally offer more and better. This is a gross generalization, of course, but it must be seen as a major factor underlying rural-urban migration in Australia today. This is true whether migrants are Aboriginals or Europeans – despite the fact that Aboriginals generally end up in just those urban areas where the limits of the generalization can be most clearly seen.