Latest news with #IndigenousHealth
The Guardian
30-07-2025
- Politics
- The Guardian
Worsening Closing the Gap measures spark Indigenous calls for ‘real power shift'
Without changing the approach to Closing the Gap, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people will continue to 'pay the price', Indigenous organisations say. Just four of the 19 Closing the Gap targets are on track to be met, according to the latest data from the Productivity Commission. But key targets, including adult imprisonment rates, children in out-of-home care, suicide and childhood development are continuing to worsen. While there have been improvements in year 12 attainment, tertiary education and housing access, these are not on track to meet deadlines. Sign up: AU Breaking News email 'It's not enough to hope the gap will close, governments must hold themselves to account for the commitments they've made under the national agreement,' the Coalition of Peaks lead convener, Pat Turner, said. 'That requires smart investment, longer-term flexible funding and full implementation of the four priority reforms – shifting power, not just policy. 'Without real power shift, we'll keep seeing the same patterns repeat and our people will continue to pay the price.' The Queensland Aboriginal and Islander Health Council chief executive, Paula Arnol, said the latest Closing the Gap report card was disappointing. 'It's 2025 and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people are still not experiencing the health outcomes that non-Indigenous Australians enjoy. This is unacceptable,' she said. The data follows a recent review of the Closing the Gap agreement, commissioned by the Coalition of Peaks. The review found Indigenous community-controlled organisations are key to progress, and governments must listen to First Nations people and share decision-making power to create positive change. Productivity commissioner Selwyn Button said the review shows the outcomes of the agreement are falling well short of what governments have committed to. 'What the outcomes in the agreement reflect most of all is the limited progress of governments in collectively acting on the priority reforms: sharing decision-making and data with communities; strengthening the Aboriginal community controlled sector and changing the way governments operate,' he said. Turner said improvements in early education enrolments, employment and land and sea rights show what's possible when government partner with Indigenous organisations 'in the right way'. But she said when governments fail to meet their commitments to work with community-controlled organisations, the gap widens. 'What's important for Australians to understand is that Aboriginal community-controlled organisations are not fringe services,' Turner said. 'We're not asking for special treatment. We're asking for a fair share. When we get that, we deliver.' In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. In the UK and Ireland, Samaritans can be contacted on freephone 116 123, or email jo@ or jo@ In the US, you can call or text the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline on 988, chat on or text HOME to 741741 to connect with a crisis counselor. Other international helplines can be found at
CTV News
30-06-2025
- Health
- CTV News
CTV National News: Speaking traditional language improves health in Indigenous community, study says
CTV National News: Speaking traditional language improves health in Indigenous community, study says Community members are passing on traditional Indigenous language and names to continue cultural connection. CTV News' Allison Bamford reports.
CBC
28-06-2025
- Health
- CBC
Indigenous people's health tightly tied to speaking their own languages, review finds
Social Sharing A new research review out of the University of British Columbia (UBC) has found that Indigenous people experience better health outcomes when they speak their traditional languages. Researchers analyzed 262 academic and community-based studies from Canada, the United States, Australia and New Zealand, and determined 78 per cent of them connected Indigenous language vitality with improved health. Studies found positive outcomes ranged from better physical and mental health, to increased social connections and healing, to greater educational success. One 2007 study out of B.C. revealed that youth suicide rates were down in First Nations communities where larger amounts of people spoke Indigenous languages. "Part of the reason why we undertook this literature review in the first place was because almost everyone that we speak with in Indigenous communities who is working on language revitalization report that reclaiming and learning their language has played a big role in their own personal health," said co-author Julia Schillo, a PhD student in UBC's linguistics department. She did the literature review, Language improves health and wellbeing in Indigenous communities, alongside a team of UBC researchers, with help from the University of Toronto and the University of Sydney. One of their major findings was the importance of health care being offered in an Indigenous language, with proper translation. Without that, patients were at risk of being diagnosed incorrectly or misunderstanding medical instructions, and reported feeling alienation or a lack of respect. In one example, Inuit children were misclassified on cognitive tests because their testing was in English, not Inuktitut. The review found connections between language and well being run deeper than direct communication, too. For instance, Schillo says physical health improves when Indigenous people participate in traditional sports and consume a traditional diet — and that both of those activities correlate with speaking traditional languages. "Based off of the literature review, but also people that I've talked to, it has to do with how language revitalization plays into identity and feelings of belonging and connection," she said. "It has a lot to do with healing from trauma, and intergenerational trauma that's related to the Indian residential school system." Those findings hold true for Chantu William, a young Tsilhqot'in language speaker and second generation residential school survivor who says learning her language growing up supported her mental health and identity as an Indigenous person. William, who wasn't involved in the study, is an early childhood educator and a policy analyst in her nation. She's working on language handbooks to give to parents at the local daycare, "for the language to stay inside the home." She co-developed language curriculum with her mother, as part of the Youth Empowered Speakers Program, with the First Peoples' Cultural Council. William says the idea for the language handbooks came from Māori relatives in New Zealand, who have similar programming that started in the 1980s, and are strong language speakers. "I feel so honoured to be able to teach and learn [Tsilhqot'in] with my preschool and day care kids and the youth in my life. I feel so grateful that I'm in this space, in our community sharing the language." William says hearing youth and elders speak the language with each other makes her happy, and that for her, "it gave direction in life." Johanna Sam, who is also Tsilhqot'in and an assistant professor at UBC in the department of education, says that if governments want to support Indigenous health, language revitalization needs to be part of the conversation. "Indigenous languages are so much more than words; they carry our laws, our stories and our knowledge systems that have sustained our nations since time immemorial," she said, noting that some words in Indigenous languages cannot be translated to English. Sam says she didn't have a lot of opportunity to learn her language being a first-generation residential school survivor, but she grew up hearing older generations in her family speak it and that uplifted her pride and identity. She wants to see more investment in Indigenous language curriculum and more options for health care to be provided in Indigenous languages. It's something the review's researchers are also calling for. They're asking all levels of government to provide long-term funding for Indigenous language revitalization and to recognize speaking the languages as a social determinant of health.
The Guardian
27-06-2025
- Health
- The Guardian
Dr Fiona Stanley: ‘If we want better health outcomes, the last thing we need is more doctors and hospitals'
Fiona Stanley arrives at South Beach Cafe at 11.30am on the dot, beaming beneath her orange sunhat. She's bright-eyed and buoyant, perhaps owing to her morning laps at Fremantle pool, a twice-weekly ritual. In the warmer months, she swims here, at South Beach, a calm, protected bay on the Indian Ocean. 'I'm an addicted ocean swimmer,' she says, as we toddle up the pathway to the beach beneath a row of Norfolk Island pines. 'But I'm so much fitter since I joined this swim group. We swam almost 2.5km this morning!' At South Beach today it's 19C, though it feels warmer. The water is glass-flat; the sky, a cloudless blue dome. Mothers with babes in arms are splashing about in the shallows, and high up in the pines, magpies sing their languid warble. 'Now, I must tell you about this,' Stanley says, as we kick off our shoes and plunge our feet into the sand. She's proudly clutching a book called First Knowledges Health: Spirit, Country and Culture, which she co-authored. Part of an eight-book series, it explores how Indigenous approaches to healthcare can solve today's problems – detailing cultural rituals such as birthing on Country and end-of-life care. 'I just love, love, loved writing this,' she says smiling. One of Australia's leading experts in epidemiology, child and maternal health, and Indigenous health, the book is a convergence of everything Stanley has spent her life fighting for. She is vivacious company – quick to laugh, warm with strangers, her mind firing off in many directions at once. As we walk, she stoops to collect a discarded bottle-top from the sand, stashing it in her pocket mid-sentence. She's nearing 80, but the same relentless energy that defined her career is still there, bubbling under the surface. Birthing on Country has become a national movement, says Stanley, holding up the book. 'It's about offering warm, family-centred care delivered by Aboriginal midwives, often in hospitals or clinics, supported by the best western diagnostics but under an Aboriginal-controlled umbrella. 'The outcomes are amazing. It's halved preterm birth rates in Aboriginal births. It's halved infant mortality. But the thing that really got me is that it reduced children being taken into out-of-home care by about 40% … What is that saying? That's saying, 'I'm a good mother. You can't take my baby away.'' Stanley is best known for founding the Telethon Institute for Child Health Research, which became internationally recognised for showing that folic acid taken before and during pregnancy can prevent spina bifida. She also helped establish the Australian Research Alliance for Children and Youth, and was instrumental in setting up Aboriginal-controlled health research units. That drive, she says, stems from both childhood idealism and hard-earned experience. Stanley grew up in Sydney in a prominent scientific household – her father, Neville Stanley, helped develop Australia's polio vaccine before the family moved to Perth in 1956. As we stroll along the shoreline, she recalls a vivid dream she had at age eight. 'We had this little boat on Sydney harbour,' she says. 'So in my dream, I'd sail to these beautiful islands, vaccinate the locals, then sail off again. I had no idea what I was doing – but I knew I wanted to help.' But the path became clearer years later, during her early days as a junior doctor at Princess Margaret hospital in Perth. 'There was an Aboriginal boy, maybe four or five, who'd come in from a remote community,' she says. 'He had severe diarrhoea and dehydration. And he died in my arms.' She pauses. 'I was 25. And I remember thinking, I don't know if I can keep doing clinical work. I need to understand how we prevent this.' Soon after, she joined a volunteer medical team travelling to remote Aboriginal communities across Western Australia. 'We went from the Eastern Goldfields to Mount Margaret, to every mission, reserve and camp … all the way up to Kalumburu,' she says. 'I saw the conditions. I saw the racism. I saw the consequences.' Stanley is the first to acknowledge that those early efforts weren't perfect. 'It was a group of white do-gooders,' she says wryly. 'Very paternalistic, especially back then.' But in those formative years, she was working alongside Aboriginal leaders such as Eric Hayward, a Noongar writer and health advocate, to challenge structural racism. She recalls one trip to Narrogin – 'one of the most racist towns in WA' – where a local doctor had refused to treat an Aboriginal child without upfront payment. 'The mother raced the kid to Katanning and it died on the way,' she says. 'So Eric and I got that doctor struck off the register.' We take a seat on a low limestone wall overlooking the beach. A mother strolls past with a baby on her hip and Stanley lights up. 'Oh my God, that baby is so cute,' she calls out. 'How old?' 'Seven months,' the woman replies. 'He's adorable. Just adorable,' Stanley says, before turning back to me. 'You know,' she says, 'the earlier we intervene in a child's life, the better. That's why I care so much about birthing on Country. Non-Aboriginal women benefit from these methods too – everyone benefits.' The conversation takes a casual turn as we talk about life since she retired in 2011, about being a grandmother, about her fondness for yoga and long walks, and the death of her husband Professor Geoffrey Shellam, who passed away in 2015. She speaks of him with tenderness – her intellectual equal, a fellow scientist and the person she bounced ideas off for decades. 'My husband became the professor of microbiology at UWA [University of Western Australia], which was my father's chair,' she says, laughing. 'After he died I moved down to Fremantle. And now I'm a Freo tragic, I love it here.' But, of course, Stanley has had a lot more on her plate than swim club and yoga. She still holds various academic and board positions, and advocates for many causes. 'I've also got more freedom now,' she says with a rebellious grin. 'I'm not running an institute any more. I'm not dependent on government money. So I can say what I like.' She's outspoken about the dangers of the North West Shelf extension, describing climate change as 'the biggest threat to human health'. Her disappointment over the failed voice to parliament referendum is equally fierce. 'We know Indigenous-led services work,' she says. 'It's not just moral – it's evidence-based.' For Stanley, these issues are all part of a bigger picture: rethinking what health really means, and who gets to shape it. The real challenge, she argues, is getting policymakers to think beyond hospitals and specialist care. 'If we want better health outcomes, the last thing we need is more doctors and more hospitals,' she says. 'We need to invest in social supports, early intervention, community-led programs.' She points to the United States as a cautionary tale. 'They spend more on health than anyone else and have the worst outcomes in the developed world,' she says. 'We need systems that keep people well, not the systems that pick them up after they're broken.' Before we know it, our hour is up and it's time for photography before Stanley whizzes off to another meeting. The photographer, Tace Stevens – a Noongar and Spinifex woman – introduces herself, and Stanley's face softens. 'Where's your mob from?' she asks instinctively. 'My father is from Cundeelee mission,' Stevens replies. Stanley's eyes well with tears. 'That was one of the first places I ever visited,' she says quietly. 'It changed me.' After the photoshoot, she gives both of our hands a squeeze before striding back to her car. On to the next thing. First Knowledges Health: Spirit, Country and Culture, co-authored by Fiona Stanley, Shawana Andrews and Sandra Eades, is out now (A$24.99, Thames & Hudson).
National Post
26-06-2025
- Health
- National Post
Real Canadians: Indigenous grandmothers pass teachings down to young mothers
Article content Five Indigenous grandmothers are sharing traditional teachings with young Indigenous mothers to help give them and their children a healthy head start. Article content The health and well-being of Indigenous Peoples is closely tied to cultural identity, which is established at a very young age. Residential schools and other colonization traumas disrupted the transfer of traditional knowledge, leading to long-lasting consequences to the physical and mental well-being of many Indigenous people in Canada. Article content Article content 'As a survivor of residential school, I lost all my connections to my culture, and I had no traditional parenting knowledge to share with my children,' explains Blackfoot Elder Jackie Bromley of the Kainai Blood Tribe, Treaty 7. 'Many younger people remain disconnected from their culture, and they don't know what they should do when they have a baby.' Article content A group of five Indigenous women from Treaty 6, 7 and 8, and the Métis Nation of Alberta are working together in collaboration with University of Alberta researchers to develop a booklet to share traditional teachings and cultural practices with new Indigenous mothers. Elder Darlene Cardinal, Elder Lorraine Albert, Elder Muriel Lee, Elder Jackie Bromley and Knowledge Keeper Norma Spicer originally came together for a panel discussion at a health conference, but the group collectively felt there was more they could do. Article content Article content With the help of Dr. Stephanie Montesanti, associate professor with the University of Alberta's School of Public Health and funding from the Women and Children's Health Research Institute (WCHRI), they formed the Grandmother's Wisdom Network and worked together to create a booklet of traditional teachings for new Indigenous mothers. Article content Article content 'Connection to culture through the sharing of traditional knowledge improves health and enhances wellness across generations as mothers share knowledge and traditions with their children,' Montesanti says. 'Supporting Indigenous children's development and well-being starts during pregnancy by helping mothers develop stronger connections to culture.' Article content Grandmothers and Elders are highly respected in Indigenous communities. They have a vital role in preserving traditions, transmitting wisdom, and guiding communities by passing on traditional knowledge. Article content 'There is no greater teacher in Cree culture than a kokum or grandmother,' explains Elder Muriel Lee of Ermineskin Cree Nation, Treaty 6. 'Grandmothers are the real knowledge keepers, and the Grandmothers' Wisdom Network has given each of us an avenue to share traditional knowledge.' Article content Though traditional knowledge varies between cultures, all of the grandmothers share one common belief — that caring for a new life is a sacred duty. 'It's so important that we teach young mothers how to care for their children,' explains Elder Lee. 'Each of the grandmothers shares their knowledge in their own way. In Cree culture, we believe a child belongs to the Creator and is only on loan to the parent.'
