The views and opinions expressed in this article are my own and do not represent those of all First Nations people. As a Narungga woman living on Wurundjeri Country, I write from my personal experiences and perspectives. While I share insights from conversations with regional Mob, I acknowledge that their stories and experiences are theirs to tell.
—Urban List Guest Editor Sianna Catullo.
Walking through my local streets at the start of a new year, I’m struck by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. For Mob, January doesn’t feel like a fresh start—it feels heavy, draining, and painfully familiar.
This year, it feels like the world is going backward. After years of First Nations peoples educating, campaigning, and advocating for change, we’re seeing councils reinstate 26 January celebrations, a stark reminder that much of Australia doesn’t care about First Nations voices.
We’ve seen Peter Dutton refusing to stand in front of the Aboriginal flag, another commission uncovering systemic racism in the NSW police force, and the cancellation of Queensland’s Truth Telling Commission under a new Liberal state government. It’s hard not to feel defeated when these headlines flood in day after day.
Some days, I feel like screaming into the wind. But then, on a walk through my local area in the northern suburbs of Melbourne, I noticed a spray-painted message on a fence wrapped around a tree: “Always Was, Always Will Be.”
I don’t always stop to take in these signs of resistance, but this one caught me off guard. Someone had risked persecution to make that statement on public property, and it made me pause. It reminded me that the fight isn’t over—that we can’t stop.
I feel lucky to have grown up on Wurundjeri Country in Melbourne’s north. While it’s not my Country—I am a Narungga woman and my Mob is from the Yorke Peninsula in SA—this place has always been home. The northern suburbs are a diverse, vibrant community, shaped by people of many cultures and religions. Growing up here, I was surrounded by people who shared similar values and politics to me.
This month, as I reflect on how heavy January feels, I also find myself grateful for my neighbours and their acts of resistance. Posters in windows, slogans spray-painted on fences, and stickers on car bumpers—these are all small but powerful reminders of our ongoing fight for truth, justice, and survival. They may seem insignificant, but they give me the hope and motivation I need to keep going.
In recent years, I’ve seen businesses and individuals try to make statements on 26 January by working through the day or choosing to take another day off instead. Though well-intentioned, it’s not enough. Change happens when people actively participate, and resistance is most powerful when it’s collective.
It’s no longer enough to silently disagree with injustice—we need visible, active solidarity.
This resistance doesn’t have to look the same for everyone. I’ve always believed in the power of storytelling, which is why I co-founded Blakground Productions, a majority Aboriginal-owned production company. We’re passionate about using our platform, skills, and resources to amplify First Nations voices and stories.
This 26 January, we’re travelling five hours from Melbourne to spend time with Gunditjmara Mob, listening to their perspectives on what this date means to them. While I can’t and won’t speak for others’ experiences, I’ve been told how different life is for regional communities compared to metropolitan areas like Melbourne—something that became painfully clear during the divisive referendum in 2023.
The Gunditjmara people have a powerful story to tell. Portland, located on Gunditjmara Country in southwest Victoria, holds immense cultural and historical significance. It has a dark and violent history and was one of the first areas in Victoria to experience colonisation.
To commemorate, Gunditjmara people host a Dawn Service at Portland foreshore, followed by a Community event. We’ve been invited by Community members to document their experiences, and they will lead every step of the storytelling process. Our role is to support and amplify their voices, ensuring they are heard far and wide. Urban List’s support in helping us reach new audiences is vital, and we hope this collaboration fosters greater understanding and solidarity across all of so-called Australia.
This 26 January, I’m urging everyone to do more. Every year, the same First Nations voices and businesses carry the burden of educating, sharing resources, and sparking action. They make it easy for allies to step up by providing clear guidance—attend a protest, participate in a dawn service, donate to First Nations-led and -controlled organisations, or amplify educational resources. Yet, year after year, I find myself asking: where is everyone else?
When I urge people to resist and stand up, my message is directed mostly at a non-Indigenous audience. For First Nations people, resistance is woven into our existence. Simply being a proud Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander person in the face of ongoing colonial systems is an act of resistance. There’s no one way to navigate the pain and weight of 26 January, and self-care is vital. For Mob, 26 January can look however it needs to—it’s about survival, honouring our ancestors, and protecting our spirit in whatever way feels right.
I want to take a moment to pay my deepest respects to the Mob who show up and do this work every single day. These are the people who fight tirelessly on the front lines, advocating for truth, justice, and equality—not just on 26 January but year-round. These voices are the backbone of change, and their unwavering dedication deserves recognition, support, and gratitude.
The truth is, resistance takes effort, and solidarity requires visibility. Whether it’s through art, words, or showing up to march, we all have a role to play. These small acts of defiance may seem insignificant on their own, but together, they create a powerful collective movement.
If I can leave you with one thought, it’s this:
How can you use your skills and resources to support First Nations people this 26 January? And how will you continue to support First Nations communities and other marginalised groups every other day of the year?
The “Always Was, Always Will Be” slogan on the temporary fence has now been removed.
That painted-over message on the tree still lingers in my mind—not as a symbol of defeat, but as a reminder of what we’re up against. Resistance takes courage, and it takes persistence. The fight for truth, justice, and healing isn’t easy, but if we commit to it together, no amount of paint can cover the change we’ll create.
Resources For 26 January, 2025
Find your local event
Donate
Sign A Petition
Wear Your Values
Now, check out what else you should do on 26 January, according to seven First Nations voices.
Main image credit: Sianna Catullo | Instagram