Emma Watters BEd | Deputy Head of Junior School

In recent years, the concept of decolonisation has gained significant traction in academic and cultural spheres. At its core, decolonisation is about dismantling the lingering effects of colonialism in our institutions, knowledge systems, and ways of thinking. This process is particularly crucial in education, where curriculum can often reflect colonial perspectives that can be seen to perpetuate harmful stereotypes and exclude diverse voices. 

The Australian context provides a compelling case study for the importance of decolonising education. For centuries, the narrative of Australian history has been predominantly told from the perspective of European settlers, often overlooking if not misrepresenting the experiences and contributions of First Nations peoples. This colonial lens has shaped not only how we understand our past but also how we perceive our present and envision our future. 

As the current chair of the Westbourne Reconciliation Action Plan Working Group and someone who proudly works alongside First Nations people, I’ve witnessed firsthand the profound impact of a colonised curriculum on First Nations students and their communities. Traditional knowledge, languages, and cultural practices – the very foundations of Indigenous identity – are often sidelined or presented as historical curiosities rather than living, breathing aspects of contemporary life. This disconnect doesn’t just affect academic outcomes; it strikes at the heart of cultural identity and self-worth. The stark reality of systemic inequality and cultural erasure has reinforced my conviction that decolonising our approach to education is not just an academic exercise, but a moral imperative. 

In Australia, the need for this shift is particularly acute. Our national narrative has long been dominated by the story of European settlement, often glossing over the violence, dispossession, and cultural disruption that accompanied colonisation. While there has been progress in recent years towards more inclusive historical narratives, we still have a long way to go in fully acknowledging and integrating First Nations truth into our national consciousness. The concept of decolonisation, therefore, goes beyond simply adding First Nations content to existing frameworks. It requires a fundamental shift in how we understand knowledge, education, and history itself. It’s about recognising that the Western academic tradition, while valuable, is just one way of understanding the world – and that Indigenous knowledge systems offer equally valid and complementary perspectives. 

Through my work on the RAP committee at Westbourne, I’ve seen how decolonising efforts can transform not just curricula, but entire institutions. When we commit to genuine engagement with Indigenous communities, prioritise Indigenous voices in decision-making processes, and create space for traditional knowledge and practices, we see profound changes. Students – both Indigenous and non-Indigenous – develop a richer, more nuanced understanding of our shared history and contemporary realities.  

In communities where genuine efforts have been made to decolonise education by incorporating First Nations languages, inviting Traditional Owners and Elders into classrooms, centring Indigenous perspectives in the study of history and science, the results have been transformative. Indigenous students’ engagement and achievement soar when they see their culture and knowledge respected and reflected in their education. Furthermore, non-Indigenous students benefit enormously from this approach. They develop a more comprehensive understanding of our nation’s history, gain cultural competence that will serve them well in an increasingly diverse world, and often find their own assumptions and worldviews productively challenged. 

As we move forward, it’s crucial that we approach the task of decolonisation with humility, openness, and a commitment to genuine partnership with First Nations communities. This means going beyond token gestures or surface-level changes. It means being willing to fundamentally rethink our approaches to curriculum design, pedagogy, and institutional structures.  

As we reflect on these critical issues of decolonisation and educational equity, it’s fitting to connect our thoughts to the spirit of NAIDOC Week. This annual celebration of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures provides a powerful platform for amplifying Indigenous voices and showcasing the richness of First Nations heritage. NAIDOC Week reminds us that the work of decolonisation is not just an academic exercise, but a living, breathing commitment to recognising and honouring Indigenous knowledge, culture, and contributions to our shared national identity. 

This year’s NAIDOC theme, Keep the Fire Burning – Blak, Loud and Proud, resonates deeply with our ongoing efforts to decolonise education. It reminds us to keep going – and challenges us to move beyond surface-level acknowledgments toward meaningful action and change. As we celebrate the resilience, creativity, and enduring wisdom of First Nations peoples during NAIDOC Week, let us also recommit ourselves to the ongoing work of decolonisation in our schools, institutions, and communities. By embracing the spirit of NAIDOC Week, we can continue to build an educational system and a society that truly values, respects, and learns from the world’s oldest continuing cultures. In doing so, we not only enrich our understanding of the past but also create a more just, inclusive, and hopeful future for all Australians.  

I respectfully acknowledge that this work was conducted on the traditional lands, seas, and skies of the Bunurong and Boonwurrung people of the Kulin Nation. I pay respect to Elders past and present, acknowledging that sovereignty was never ceded.