Indigenous incarceration: there has to be a better way
Indigenous youth are overrepresented in juvenile detention, accounting for more than 70 per cent of detainees in WA. Yet, Aboriginal people make up just 4 per cent of the State’s population. They are 30 times more likely to be arrested than their non-Indigenous peers, and 53 times more likely to be detained. It’s an indictment of the covert systemic racism, and entrenched poverty, that exists in this country.
Banksia Hill Detention Centre is WA’s only detention centre for children, aged 10-17 years. About half of detainees are on remand — charged, not guilty, but awaiting court. The other 50 per cent are sentenced to detention, having been found guilty of an offence. In a revolving cycle, the risk of recidivism is as high as 65 per cent for a young Aboriginal person. The system fails them from day one. For decades, Aboriginal and human rights groups have been campaigning for an overhaul. Though their pleas have largely fallen on deaf ears.
Just over a week ago, the State Government announced a $25.2 million upgrade to Banksia Hill. It followed damning reports of “inhumane” treatment at the centre. The conditions have been so dire that young people (children) are reportedly forming suicide pacts. Perth Children’s Court president Judge Hylton Quail’s summation of the abhorrent circumstances a young boy endured still sends shivers up my spine: “If you wanted to make a monster, this is the way to do it”.
Throwing more money at a system that, over several decades has successfully proved it doesn’t work, is stark raving mad. The gargantuan investment in these institutions has not yet eliminated the systemic causes of trauma and poverty, reduced detention and recidivism rates, or improved health and wellbeing outcomes for at-risk young Aboriginal people. Is locking up kids really the best we can do? Surely not.
The situation seems intractable, but Mark Anderson, chief executive of the Foundation for Indigenous Sustainable Health (FISH), believes otherwise: “People think it’s a wicked problem, that it’s too big, but it’s not.” Mr Anderson has spent more than 35 years working in the Aboriginal justice field. He’s seen a lot happen but very little change. “When a person’s “wirrin is minditj” (meaning their “spirit is sick”) no stint in detention, social program or job will fix them,” he says. “We need a long-term strategic approach to healing, one that’s intergenerational.”
The justice system is reactive, and the social system traps people in poverty — it’s “the black economy”. Plenty of people benefit, through jobs but not those that need it the most — Aboriginal people. “We need a proactive approach that runs concurrently, and works intensively with the next generation,” says Mr Anderson. FISH was founded in 2010, to address the housing crisis for Indigenous people. It has expanded across education, creative arts, land management, and justice, and runs a retail social enterprise in Mt Lawley — it’s truly an holistic approach to health, social and emotional wellbeing, run by and for Aboriginal people.
Its pilot justice program focused on giving people back their “internal power” to drive change. It was found to be highly effective but, as so often is the case, securing ongoing funding has been challenging. The issue of Indigenous justice is not an Aboriginal problem, alone — it’s a hole in the soul of our nation. But solutions do exist. Aboriginal young people need, and deserve, access to culturally appropriate education and healing, trauma-informed social programs and real pathways out of poverty — not the cold hand and steely heart of the law.
This article was first published in The West Australian in Renée Gardiner’s weekly column in Agenda, 30 April 2022.