You may have heard the term 'cultural load' to describe the additional responsibilities and pressures that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples carry when working in western-led organisations and businesses (these responsibilities might include being expected to deliver cultural content on demand or to consistently educate western colleagues without support or recognition).
However, for Lisa Walker, a proud Galibal woman and CELA's cultural consultant, the term misses the mark. She speaks from experience, having spent many years working in early education settings, often as the only Aboriginal educator.
“It puts a negative spin on our culture and on us as First Nations people,” Lisa explains. “We were calling it ‘cultural load’, but we realised that wasn’t right because it’s not our culture that’s the problem. The pressure comes from colonial expectations.”
What is colonial load?
Colonial load describes the expectations, pressures and emotional labour placed on Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples by others, sometimes unintentionally or unknowingly, but with real consequences.
Lisa explains that for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander early education professionals working in western-led organisations and services, this can take many forms such as:
- being expected to deliver cultural content on demand
- being called on to do every Acknowledgement of Country
- being treated as a cultural representative for all First Nations peoples
- being hired for your identity, but not fully included or supported as a team member.
The impact can be profound.
“It causes significant cultural harm,” Lisa says. “It can break you if you’re not strong enough to push through. There’s nothing worse than being told to be Goori (Aboriginal) when it suits someone else.”
Cultural responsiveness and genuine relationships
Rather than talking about cultural safety, Lisa encourages the sector to shift towards cultural responsiveness.
“I prefer the term cultural responsiveness,” says Lisa. “It’s not a race. There’s no finish line. There’s no end point to this - it’s ongoing learning.”
Cultural responsiveness, she explains, is about reflection and action. It’s about acknowledging unconscious bias and being open to change.
“Even I get pulled up sometimes,” she says. “And I learn from that.”
When Lisa enters a new space, one of the first things she considers is who her allies are, who the leader is, and whether that leader is open to building a genuine relationship. “Do they want to know who I am as a Goori person? Are they willing to sit down, yarn and learn together?” she asks.
Without that openness, she says, the environment can quickly become damaging and disheartening. Lisa also reflects positively on the way some directors go beyond standard recruitment practices to meaningfully engage Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander educators, or as she prefers to call them, guides.
“Our jarjums (children) are doing their learning, and it’s up to us as guides to support them in that,” she says.
While qualifications are important, she notes that some centre directors recognise the value of community presence and lived experience, and will look for ways to support Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander educators into the profession, even if they’re still studying or haven’t yet started their training.
“Looking at who this potential team member is connected to in community - how do the jarjums respond to them in that space?” she asks. “Then they might consider, how do we help them to get their Cert III?” It’s about recognising that representation isn’t just a matter of ticking boxes, but about building real pathways and valuing the strengths Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander educators bring.
Listening, learning and leading with heart
For services wanting to build stronger relationships with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities, Lisa is clear: relationship comes before business. “It’s always relationship before business with us mob,” Lisa says. “You’re not going to get anywhere if you come in wanting to tick boxes.”
She reminds educators to approach engagement with authenticity, not urgency. “Our roles are not nine to five,” Lisa says. “Especially when we’re living in community. We have cultural expectations of ourselves, from our team, and from our employer, but so does our mob and so does our community.”
When Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are invited into services to share cultural knowledge, it should always be on respectful terms, and that includes paying people for their time. To do otherwise just contributes to that colonial load and expectations.
What does cultural responsiveness look and feel like?
According to Lisa, culturally responsive services are places where Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children see themselves reflected and valued - not just during NAIDOC Week or Reconciliation Week, but every day.
It’s in the stories being shared, the music being played, the images and words on the walls. But most importantly, it’s in the relationships, the decision-making, and the willingness of teams to reflect together.
She encourages services to create space in team meetings to talk about culture, share what’s working, and be honest about what’s not. “Maybe once a month, have that 10 or 15 minutes put aside for the cultural agenda item,” Lisa suggests. “Ask where everyone’s at and what’s the cultural element for the next month that we want sprinkled throughout our centre.”
The role of non-Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander educators
Non-Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander educators have a critical role to play, and it starts with taking responsibility for their own learning.
“How do non-Aboriginal people learn if they’re expecting us to do all the work?” Lisa asks. “You can’t learn unless you are in amongst it, immersing yourself.”
She encourages educators to challenge stereotypes, question assumptions, and reflect on the stories they were told growing up. “This includes self-reflecting and asking ‘where am I at’ and ‘what do I really think of First Nations peoples?’” Lisa asks. “Ask yourself, 'what was my learning in school? What have I learned since I came into this role?'”
Every child benefits
Ultimately, this work isn’t just for the benefit of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children - though they must remain at the centre of it. Lisa reminds us that every child benefits from growing up in an environment where truth is told and culture is celebrated.
“Our jarjums deserve to thrive,” she says. “Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children deserve to be strong in identity. And non-Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander children deserve to grow up as strong allies.”
The time is now
Lisa’s message to the sector is clear: The time for change is now. “Don’t put it off.” Lisa says. “There are no excuses. There are plenty of learning opportunities out there if you are open to them.”
There is no single pathway, and no quick fix. But as Lisa says, “It’s not a race. There’s no finish line. Just take what you can from different learnings, put them in your heart.”
It’s a reminder to every early childhood educator; to reflect deeply, listen closely, and walk gently - together.
About Lisa:
Lisa Walker is a proud Galibal woman from Bundjalung Country, Far North Coast, NSW and has ties to the Yuin, Yaegl and Gubbi Gubbi Nations.
She has worked across the ECE sector for the past 17 years in local, state, national and global roles and started her own cultural consultancy 3 years ago, to promote understanding of her peoples' diverse ways of being and doing.
Lisa is grounded in connection to both her Country and mob and advocates for much needed change for her people through grassroots two-way respectful engagement. She believes all jarjums (children) deserve the same opportunities to belong, learn, thrive and succeed in life and it is our role as big people to guide them through this, after all they are our future generations.
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