Memoirs from the field
10:13am Tuesday 19th August 2025.
Authentic You
I build, I build, I build. Not sure how to talk about this yet. Instead I will drip feed snippets to people through ambiguous Instagram stories and IRL conversations if the topic is brought up.
The difficulty is explaining what it is in a way people can understand it quickly. People ask: "What is it?" expecting the elevator pitch. But my elevator pitch just leads to more questions, which I suppose is a good thing. "It's a ceremony, disguised as a workshop", or "It's a cultural technology". For the gamers out there, it is an MMIRLRPG. If they are a true gamer they should be able to decipher that.
Authentic You Adventurer's Pack. Alpha build August 2025 colourised.
My brother the teacher
Ah, Mitchell. What to say about my younger brother? He has always wanted to be like me. My first job? AIEO at the high school we went to. His first job? AIEO at the primary school we went to. I pursue a career in education, he pursues one in teaching. Where I go, he follows. The other day, he calls me: "Brother, I insist you come to my cathedral of teaching and bring the family heirlooms (artefacts) so I may enlighten my young cohort on the intricacies of traditional Aboriginal ways of being". and so I accept this request and muster the families collection of artefacts in my possession, then proceed to the holy palace of learning in which he currently resides.
To see him in action, teaching the young ones about boomerangs and didgeridoos reminds me of myself. In fact, watching him present reminded me of how I once did so myself. Of course his delivery could have been sharper. He tends to speak too quickly and jumble his sentences, and he can't throw a spear for shit. Though I must admit, he is a good teacher. The students were engaged. He made them smile and laugh while teaching - a craft almost all teachers attempt and usually fail. My brother seems to do this with ease. He must have learned this from me, somehow.
Good luck navigating that accursed curriculum you and your teacher kin are bound to, brother. I hope one day you rise to challenge it.
To breakfast with the court of Lord Holder
Andrew Holder, first of his name. High Lord of the temple REVO, Lord Protector of the Realm of Sweat and Steel.
Who is this bloke and why am I bringing him up? A few reasons. Firstly, some context:
Throughout my career, I would say 90% of the leaders that engage my services are women. Makes sense, women tend to prioritise people whereas men prioritise things. I am in the people game. Culture change, D&I, RAP committees? majority women. Majority middle aged. The rest? blokes, but usually middle age / boomers.
I think it was 2 years ago when Andrew and the team at REVO reached out - turns out they have a RAP. Turns out Andrew is my age. This is rare. We've got a bloke my age who's actively investing in culture. Did I mention this is rare?
When I spoke to Andrew back then, it was apparent to me that he's an Aussie who's invested in Aussie culture, and he's loyal to WA. His team? fellow modern custodians. The culture they've cultivated at REVO is healthy and expanding.
On Tuesday, I was summoned to a banquet in the Grand Hall of Crown to celebrate Lord Holder's success. And he does deserve it. What Andrew and his team are continuing to build is worth following and investing in. Here's a pic of us at their RAP launch in October last year.
REVO may even be trialing Authentic You if all goes well.
Let's hope all goes well.
A final note worth noting
The other day, a tawny frogmouth crossed my path.
Not in the daylight, not in the darkness - but in that strange in-between where the air still hums with the day’s heat, yet the night’s cool fingers have begun to close in.
They say the frogmouth is a keeper of thresholds, the quiet watcher who blinks slowly while the world rushes past. Not owl, not nightjar - something else entirely. A reminder that there are places, and moments, that do not belong wholly to one thing or another.
I took it as Country speaking. Not urgently. Not loudly. Just a nod. A reminder that much of the work, and much of the knowing, happens in the space between - not yet here, not yet there, but still moving.
Ngany koort moorditj,
The Custodian
