Paul Girrawah House is giving a voice to the trees on the ANU campus.

I meet Ngambri-Kamberri Walgalu, Wiradyuri and Wallabalooa custodian Paul Girrawah House to talk about Country, tree scarring and reclaiming truths for First Nations People.

A large black crow lands outside House’s office window just as his phone rings. It’s his mum calling – proud Ngambri-Kamberri Walgalu, Wallabalooa (Ngunnawal) and Wiradyuri Elder, Dr Matilda House.

“There’s one outside right now,” he says, referring to his feathered visitor. “I’m in a meeting, I’ll call you back.”

The crow looks directly at House, cawing loudly before taking flight. Later, I learn the crow is a totem of House’s people.

I hit record; we begin.

The truth-telling of trees

There are only a few old trees remaining on unceded Ngambri (Kamberri) land, but they are hard to miss as you walk through the ANU campus.

Their resilient roots were planted more than 300 years ago, forming a deep connecting line between Country and First Nations Ancestors that weaves up from the soil and through to the tips of the gum leaves that extend up to the sky.

House explains that everything on Country is connected and speaks the language of the birds and the trees. Madhan yarra ngiyang budyan galang mayiny.

“The trees are our guardians; they’re old people and we look after them. There are not many left on campus, so we have to protect them. They are survivors,” he says.

“The trees look after the birds and the birds look after the trees. There’s a relationship there that’s been happening for a long, long time.”

Paul Girrawah House’s ancestors have deep connections with trees. Photo: Jamie Kidston/ANU

House’s ancestors have connections with trees that are deep, personal and ongoing.

Part of House’s work at ANU is to provide everyone with the opportunity to connect with First Nations culture. His tree scarring is a form of truth-telling, a cultural practice he describes as the “legacy of his people”.

“Part of the work I do here on Country is providing culturally safe recognition of our identity through sharing our stories here on campus – tree scarring is part of that.”

Transformation on Country

Before scarring takes place, House waits for an invitation from the trees. Their communication resides in the instinctual and ancient rhythms that flow between First Nations Peoples and Mother Earth.

“I go slow; everything I do is underpinned by Yindyamarra, meaning a way of life,” House explains.

“It’s a powerful Wiradyuri word. It means to go slow, be patient, be polite, be gentle. Take responsibility and uphold.”

First, House carves the shape of a coolamon – a carrying vessel – before moving onto the unique patterns of the scarring process. Each line and marking enmeshes traditional Indigenous culture with the ANU campus.

Paul Girrawah House undertakes tree scarring. Photo: Jamie Kidston/ANU.

“The patterns represent our key totems on Country: Yibaay-maliyan Yukeembruk – the crow and eagle, Mother Earth and sky country. The trees represent our creator and our protector,” House says.

“It’s all about the way we live on Country, how we look after Country, how we keep our place in Country and where we sit on Country. The whole process can be summed up in transformation.

“Everyone transforms in their life from the cradle to the grave, the same as a tree. Nothing dies.”

Towards healing and reconciliation

In Chifley Meadows, a single scar tree stands. It was carved as part of the healing ceremony following a tragic stabbing incident on campus in 2023.

Together with his mother, House united staff and students using smoke, culture and truth-telling.

“We’re always going to help people heal and help people find peace on Country,” House says.

“The tree will transform and heal, which is part of the healing process for the people and families who are impacted by what happened there.”

“The trees are our guardians; they’re old people and we look after them.”

Conscious of the fact First Nations Australians have their own scars and have not always had the opportunity to heal, House had to strike a delicate balance during the ceremony.

“We have to be careful when we talk about healing because it can trigger deep trauma that has never been dealt with properly on Country,” he says.

“Everyone has a different way of healing, and some people never fully heal or go back to how things were – it’s very sensitive.”

For the next generation of Indigenous Australians, protecting old trees and scarring young ones is an important step towards reconciliation.

“We want to see our children grow up and acknowledge, respect and honour First Nations people in this country,” House says. “Every day is a fight for justice and equality for our people, but the healing process will take generations.”

While we still have a long way to go, the scar trees on campus are a reminder to listen to and reflect on the First Nations stories and histories on our campus.

Top image: Paul Girrawah House. Photo: Jamie Kidston/ANU.

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