UNTOLD: WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE PART OF THE OLDEST CONTINUOUS CULTURE IN THE WORLD?

Unfairly branded as somehow less than, Aboriginal culture was smothered under a blanket of societal discrimination for much of Uncle Ken's formative years. Uncle Ken's father, bearing the brunt of this disdain, struck up an unlikely kinship with a group of Italian and Greek fisherman who had migrated to South Australia after World War Two. But Uncle Ken struggled to understand the friendship between these men and his father. Their lives were so different to that of an immigrant. “[But] finally, the penny dropped, that he felt like them, that he was a refugee in his own country,” Uncle Ken says.

Once he knew the truth, Uncle Ken started to see the complexities behind the secret and his parents decision. “I realised that we were different to most other kids in the district,” Uncle Ken reflects, caught in limbo between two worlds. Belonging neither here nor there, a part of his identity severed, Uncle Ken was adrift in a sea of faces. As the years unfurled, the tides of time began to turn, beckoning Uncle Ken toward a journey of self-discovery. The guiding star in this voyage was his older sister, Nancy, who illuminated the path toward embracing and delving deeper into their shared roots. Her wisdom and guidance became the beacon that led Uncle Ken to see his heritage, not as a shadow to be hidden, but as something to be celebrated and explored.

While his older sisters absorbed their cultural wisdom directly from the elders, Uncle Ken received his cultural education through his siblings - who shared with him the stories and knowledge of eels, frogs and fish. "I was lucky," he reflects, his eyes twinkling with admiration and affection, as he recalls how Nancy would often take him duck shooting in the local swamps and the Coorong, marking his transition from "being a little kid to a successful bushwhacker," as he fondly puts it.

Years later, Uncle Ken’s career with fisheries and wildlife took him on a journey across South Australia to places such as Port Lincoln, Ceduna and Whyalla – areas rich in cultural diversity. During these years, he discovered the vibrancy of Aboriginal cultures in South Australia, experiencing the strong community bonds, deep land connections and traditions shaping daily life in these welcoming communities. It was also a stark contrast to what he had known growing up. “I started to realise that [there were] some Aboriginal people in the world still,” he says.

We were led to believe that they were all gone here [ the Limestone Coast] except us.”

Yearning for connection to his own Country, Uncle Ken set out on a journey home, determined to weave together the fragmented pieces of his identity. Returning to Boandik Country later in his life, he found the Aboriginal community in the midst of a resurgence. The Aboriginal population of the Limestone Coast, once diminished by diseases, conflicts and forceful displacement by European settlers, was now slowly knitting itself back together. “I really had to find the connection,” he affirms. With an opportunity to be a part of rebuilding his community, Uncle Ken dedicated himself to nurturing a safe and welcoming environment that celebrated their rich heritage — a haven he had longed for in his youth but had never experienced. 

Returning home to a sense of community, and equiped with years of travel and experiences, Uncle Ken realised something. His dad had been teaching him about Boandik Country and its traditions throughout his childhood, he just didn't realise it at the time. “We were the lucky ones,” he says, reminiscing on the rich on-Country experiences that were a fundamental part of his childhood, even if they weren't shaped as cultural teachings at the time. “And I didn’t really appreciate [it] at the time, [that] I was learning so much." In this act of returning and rebuilding, Uncle Ken not only found his connection but also became a pivotal force in rekindling the pride and spirit of his community, ensuring that the legacy of the Boandik people would flourish once again.

“They were very specialised and very civilised in their own way in their own area,” he continues, “and probably if you took a Boandik person and put [them] up in the desert, they'd probably slowly fade away, you know, and vice versa." So, how do Uncle Ken’s adolescent years compare to his life today? Nowadays Uncle Ken stands as one of the few Elders in the Boandik community. In Aboriginal culture, the community highly respects Elders, affectionately addressing them as 'Uncle' or 'Aunty' to honour their wisdom, empathy, loyalty and reliability — qualities Uncle Ken embodies to the fullest.

He proudly wears his cultural identity for all to see, no longer constrained by unecessary shame. “We’re proud of our culture,” he declares with conviction. Yet, it’s his actions that truly amplify his words. On a mission to narrate the rich history of his Country, he started his own educational tour company Bush Adventures. With fervent storytelling at its heart, he guides groups through experiences like foraging, fishing, bushtucker and fireside stories under the stars. Opening his arms and his land to tourists and companies alike, Uncle Ken is offering guided tours that not only welcome but also educate on the significance of sea life, shrubbery and animals. 

His storytelling prowess has led him to author children’s picture books and he actively volunteers with the Port MacDonnell Country Fire Services. Aiming to forge a better future for his children, culture and people, Uncle Ken is a beacon of hope and is “dangerously optimistic” about preserving Boandik Country’s legacy for generations to come. “Now there’s enough young people listening and learning, they know the stories,” he says, pride seeping out of very pores.