Traeger Park Primary School is situated in a community composed of white and Aboriginal cultures and sub-cultures. The enrolment is approximately three hundred and eighty and of this more than half the children are of Aboriginal descent. Approximately sixty of these Aboriginal children live in cottage homes because they come from cattle stations or they are state wards. The various sub-cultures would include –

1. Stable middle-class part-Aboriginal group.

2. Lower socio-economic group of part-Aboriginal people living in town.

3. Full blood Aboriginal people in fringe-dwelling situations

4. A transient white group who live at caravan parks.

5. People employed by railways.

6. A small group of middle-class whites.

Within the white cultures, there are many disadvantaged children from broken or disturbed homes. All these sub-cultures within the school have tended to make the middle-class white group disadvantaged. We are faced with the problem of keeping these children up to the academic standard expected by parents. In the fringe-dwelling group there are twenty-five children from one particular camp and thirty-five from other camp situations all around the town. Many of these people see this school as theirs even though they live much closer to other primary schools. The principal aim of the school is to develop in the children an awareness of themselves and their place in the community, and a self-concept that enables them to live a full and satisfying existence in the environment of their own choice.

To traditional Aborigines their whole concept of life, whether it is physical or spiritual survival, is centred on their belief in the Dreamtime. The Dreamtime was the period of creation when the Aborigines’ life-style was planned and the Aborigines’ entire life centred on the need to live in the style prescribed by the mythical Dreamtime ancestors.

An understanding of the Dreamtime is essential to an understanding of traditional Aboriginal culture. Stanner (1979, 23–40) describes the Dreaming as pervading every aspect of life from social organization to food gathering. Not only is it the period of creation when the mythical ancestors roamed the earth, but it is also the life spirit which ties man, society and nature, both past and present, to the living now.

R.M. Berndt (1980) describes the dreaming thus:

The Dreaming therefore constituted a particular view of life, of the place of human beings within a preordained scheme or patterning symbolising a three-sided relationship between mythic beings, nature and people. Each was dependent on the others. People were part of nature, part of particular mythic beings, in social and personal terms.

(Berndt, 1980, 14–15)

Not only did traditional Aborigines believe in the Dreaming, they lived it. It is the Dreaming which provides the blueprint for life.

Central to the belief in the Dreaming is the belief in the mythical beings. These beings were part human and part animal. They roamed the earth in the Dreamtime using super-human powers to create all natural features.

Certainly in the past, and arguably continuing into the present, music education in schools has been and is often perceived as the exclusive domain of the so-called ‘talented and able’ with a distinct bias towards middle class West-centric society. Yet we are constantly reminded that education ought to address issues of inclusivity, access and equity for students, no matter what their background or history (Smith, 1995). In fact effective music education experiences often provide another means of access to learning areas such as language or maths for children excluded by their apparent lack of literacy or numeracy skills (Campbell, 2000).

We, as teachers, usually find it difficult to accept the oral language patterns that some of our pupils bring to school. “We are prone to inject an element of morality into our pseudo-standard of English.” (Cheney 1976, p.58).

As Hall (1959) so ably comments, “Our native speech is inextricably bound to our perception of friends, community, religion, nation and other peoples.”

Basically, non-standard dialects are viewed either as a deficit form of standard English or a different but equal language system. These are basically the two main models. Wolfram (1973, p.68) says that, in the deficit model, speech differences are viewed and described with reference to a norm and deviation from that norm. The control group norm is, of course, middle-class speech or standard English. Nonconformity to this norm is seen as an indication of retarded language acquisition or under-developed language. Nonstandard dialects are considered as the pathology of non-organic speech deficiencies, and the patterns of these dialects are labelled with such terms as ‘misarticuiations’; ‘deviations’; ‘replacements’; ‘faulty pronunciations’ and the like.

The ‘difference’ model sees non-standard dialects as self-contained systems in their own rights. They have their own phonological and grammatical rules and are equally legitimate both socially and psychologically, as well as being syntactically functionally equivalent to standard English.

Mr. Barker has built upon an element of the Van Leer approach to provide a stimulating and meaningful set of lesson experiences for his students of all ages. The program has had unexpected and delightful results both in and out of school.

By the end of 1990, at least three hundred Aboriginal and Islander people had graduated in South Australian tertiary institutions, from associate diploma level and above. In 1990, the annual graduation rate surpassed forty, the great majority at three-year level or above, including at least one Honours, one doctorate and graduates in architecture and law. The eight-fold increase in graduate numbers over the total up to 1980 reflects the active presence on campuses of Aboriginal/Islander-oriented support services and, even more so, of preparation programs: some three-quarters of all graduates had participated in some form of supplementary preparation.

Firstly let me introduce myself to you. My name is Irene Calgaret. I am an Aboriginal of the Nyungar people from Bunbury, Western Australia. I attend Edith Cowan University, Bunbury as a first-year student, studying English as my major.

I am the mother of three lovely daughters and the grand-mother of four wonderful grand-sons. I have been a nurse for 25 years, employed at local Government and private hospitals, and at various other small, country town hospitals in our very large state of Western Australia.

The following article is an extract from Mr. Lines’ dissertation for his Advanced Diploma Course at Torrens College of Advanced Education, Adelaide.

‘Language immersion’ has been regarded with suspicion for roughly two decades by many educators wishing to be loyal to the goals of bilingual education in indigenous groups. In this paper I argue that we should not be suspicious of immersion in a generalised way as an approach to both first and second language teaching among these groups. Rather, we should define those conditions under which immersion might be dangerous and those under which it might be helpful to the language aspirations of indigenous minorities.

In the first issue of The Aboriginal Child at School last year, we described the theoretical framework for considering factors contributing to the school success of Aboriginal children as presented in Aboriginal Futures : Review of Research and developments and Related Policies in the Education of Aborigines (Watts, 1981).

The philosophical basis for this consideration is well worth stating again:

Throughout this exploration of the education of Aborigines the view is taken that school success means success in achieving the full range of goals envisaged in the establishment of schools and the determination of their programs:

The Aboriginal/Islander population of Queensland was calculated by the 1981 census to be greater than 44,000 (Department of Aboriginal Affairs, 1984, p.11). However, for a slightly later estimate, the Annual Report of the Queensland Department of Aboriginal and Islander Advancement records a figure of 60,000 (Department of Aboriginal and Islander Advancement, 1984, p.l). Both of these figures could be substantially correct given a possibility that some Aboriginal people may not identify themselves as such on census returns. Whatever the reason for the difference in the figures, a total of some 50,000 is most likely conservative for the present time. This figure converts to a percentage of slightly over 2% of the Queensland population being Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander. Of the 50,000 Aboriginal/Islander population some 24% are Torres Strait Islanders (Department of Aboriginal Affairs, 1984, p.11).

The San are Southern Africa's first indigenous peoples. They can be found in South Africa, Botswana, Zimbabwe and Namibia. The San peoples in Botswana still face discrimination, especially in the education sector, as their indigenous literacy and way of life are largely ignored. Their languages are not part of the school curriculum in Botswana and it is English (the official language) and Setswana (the national language) that are taught in schools. In theory, this should not be the case. This highly disadvantages San children as they underperform and drop out of school. Hence, very few have made it to the University of Botswana and the Colleges of Education. In order for Botswana to reach its aim of an educated and informed nation by 2016, San peoples need to be catered for in the education system of Botswana. This article is an integrative review about the San of Botswana and (1) explains what has been studied about the San with regard to their indigenous ways of knowing and reading the world; (2) gives a clear picture of their formal schooling experiences; and, (3) provides an overview of their English and Setswana language acquisition.

Before the arrival of Europeans in Aotearoa, New Zealand and their subsequent settlement in the 1800s, there was no concept of a Māori identity. Over time, however, as a result of rapid colonisation, Māori became a minority population in New Zealand. Consequently, the term Māori as normal or usual, began to lose its meaning (Webber, 2008), and another meaning began to emerge based on contrasts with the Pākehā settler population. This paper explores the complex and increasingly diverse nature of Māori identities in contemporary Aotearoa/New Zealand, including contemporary early childhood contexts. It discusses the importance of negotiating the terrains of cultural knowledge, values and understandings in order to define what ‘being Māori’ means for teachers and children in an increasingly diverse and complex settings.

In many areas of government policy there is a big gap between theory and practice, that is, there is a difference between what ought to occur and what actually eventuates. This is unfortunately true for education as well. That education actually alienates the young from the old and from their traditional life-style may in some way be substantiated. In theory this should not happen. Before any discussion on the pros and cons of such a state of affairs, however, there is a need to define what education is, to define some of the approaches officially accepted in Aboriginal education and to differentiate between the needs of some of the more recognizable Aboriginal groups and their life-styles.