As a First Nations woman, I am a fifth-generation Christian, and I come from a long line of survivors. My Kabi Kabi ancestral grandmother escaped the colonial invasion, surviving massacres that ravaged her tribe and family in Southern East Queensland. She found refuge in Gureng Gureng country and worked at an outback station, where she had her children. The life of her daughter Sarah, my great-great-grandmother, was not of her own choosing, but she fought for the survival of her people and her family. Her days are documented not through photos or letters, but through the stories of her descendants who chose to remember her and carry her name forward. Survival of foreign powers, survival of being a First Nations woman, survival of keeping her kids, a constant choice for survival. Stories of her courage and resilience are shared by my Elders with admiration and compassion. She navigated her faith based on survival. Her daughter Katherine, my great-grandmother, was a staunch Christian woman. She raised her 15 children with her sugar slave husband, who was blackbirded from the Island of Ambrym, Vanuatu, at the age of 13. They met at an outback station and married, then moved to a remote farming town outside of Bundaberg called Lowmead. There they were free from the colonial gaze and raised their family in relative peace. They worked hard not to attract any foreign interest and engaged in a Christianity that was safe. The children were safe, and life felt peaceful for the next generation. She navigated her faith based on safety. Her son, my grandfather, Sterling, became a pastor. He worked the sugar cane fields during the week and did his ministry on the weekend at the Aboriginal missions. In his early days he wasn’t invited to, or even allowed in, to white churches or towns. Segregation was 24
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