'Where is the parish priest?' I asked the young girl sitting on the ground with her friends outside the parish house. I had just arrived in a remote Aboriginal community along with a colleague and was not sure where we were staying.
I will never forget the look that came upon her face. She seemed stunned as my question registered. I had asked her in her local language. Just a simple question. But that a white person, a visitor, might address her in her own language seemed the last thing she had expected.
As she paused and then went off to find the priest, I was reminded of the power of language. No matter how poorly I actually know Indigenous languages and how easily I manage to mangle them, I was reminded, once again, how important it is to keep trying to learn and speak the languages of our Indigenous peoples.
I am no expert of any Indigenous language in this country. But I have managed to learn some key expressions, particularly forms of greeting or farewell. Instead of people saying 'hello' and 'goodbye', they often use expressions that express something like 'Where are you going?' and 'I am going along now'. Even in simple exchanges, different values and meanings are communicated.
I have even managed to pronounce some of those sounds that we do not have in English, particularly at the beginning of words. My tongue has had to exercise, be stretched and learn some new behaviour. Still I cannot say that I can speak any Indigenous language well. I wish I could speak more and with a deeper understanding.
Within the Jesuit family one is encouraged, particularly in the early years of training, to learn another language. Some Jesuits, especially those who have grown up in Africa, Asia or Europe, and in the midst of many other languages, can speak a number. As Jesuits, we belong to an international society where we can be asked to work in places where our native language is not the local one.
I have lived in Indigenous communities within Australia, and also overseas, where English is not, for most, their first language. For some, it can be a valuable tool to help communicate with the wider English-speaking world. For others, it remains the language of newcomers: settlers, police, magistrates and missionaries. Of colonisers.
In their experience, few white people have ever respected or made the effort to learn their language. As a result, communication and mutual understanding is seriously limited.
I am very supportive of changes to our Australian Constitution that acknowledge and respect these ancient languages and the cultures they represent. These languages speak to the ancient past of our Australian identity and the need to state what has been missing.
Of the many hundreds of languages that have been spoken in this land, 145 or so are still being used. Some are closely related and similar, others vary enormously. In the 2006 Census, one in eight Indigenous Australians identified as speaking an Indigenous language as their primary household language; 50 per cent of Indigenous young people in remote areas continue to speak an Indigenous language.
Acknowledging the importance of these ancient languages in our Constitution is more than providing lip service to our Australian heritage. It is about the recognition of who we were, well before 1788, and who we still are. It represents a new willingness to hear the voice of our First Nations peoples, with a desire for better communication and deeper understanding.
Indigenous languages offer rich ways to describe and name our world. They offer valuable insights and knowledge for all Australians.
On this the fourth anniversary of the Rudd Government's National Apology to the Stolen Generations, I remain saddened when Australians make little effort to respect and engage this heritage, and when the emphasis remains largely about speaking English. I remember how much more remains to be valued and respected.
I deeply value what learning and appreciating something of our Indigenous languages has given me. I wish more Australian children were given that opportunity.
Even in the cities, away from the daily sounds of these languages, I am often made aware of how the past still speaks to the present. Council signs, tourist messages, Welcome to Country ceremonies and names of places remind me of words and meanings that continue to be remembered.
I try to pay attention to these words and, when given a choice between an earlier place name over a later and colonial one, I will choose to use the former. I try, also, to pronounce them as they were intended.
Perhaps, in years to come, when I visit that remote community again, young people will not be shocked to hear a white person trying to communicate in their local language. They may even have come to expect it.
Fr Brian McCoy SJ is a senior research fellow in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Health, La Trobe University. He is co-author of Take Off Your Shoes, Walk on the Ground: The journey towards reconciliation in Australia, published by the Australian Catholic Social Justice Council to mark today's fourth anniversary of the National Apology.