Carla Rogers is a community engagement specialist, facilitator, and program designer dedicated to Closing the Gap. After a Churchill Fellowship in 2001, she founded Evolve in 2005 and later joined forces with Aunty Munya. Blending Elder wisdom with world-class facilitation, she equips non-Indigenous Australians with the skills to become passionate and effective Allies to First Nations people.
I’ve just returned from the World Music Festival in Adelaide, filled with powerful learning moments about Allyship – the kind that makes you stop and think (March does seem to be my music festival month).
One moment stood out. It was big, beautiful… and at the same time, deeply cringe-worthy.
You know that at Evolve, our Yarning Circles are safe spaces – there’s no such thing as a stupid question. Every conversation, even the uncomfortable ones, are a learning opportunity. But does this apply in every situation?
That question hit me hard when I was watching the Central Australian Aboriginal Women’s Choir, an ensemble of incredible Indigenous women from six remote communities in the Northern Territory and South Australia, singing in Western Arrarnta and Pitjantjatjara languages.
I was completely absorbed in their mesmerising set. They had just finished singing Kookaburra Sits in the Old Gum Tree in language when, from the crowd, someone yelled:
“Sing an Aboriginal song!”
The person next to me and I both sucked in our breaths.
And then, I witnessed Allyship in action.
Their Artistic Director, Morris Stuart AM, didn’t ignore it.
He didn’t shame or blame.
He didn’t speak for Aboriginal people.
Instead, he paused, acknowledged the moment, and turned it into a teachable opportunity. He reminded the audience that this was not his choir – it was their choir. These women are not just singers; they are businesswomen, mothers, grandmothers, artists, land carers, and much more. They choose what they want to sing, and they lead.
Then, Morris handed the mic to Nicholas Williams, a choir member, who explained that traditional songs are sacred. They are meant for singing Country, not for performance. They can only be sung on Country, by the right people, in the right way.
This all happened in under a minute, in front of thousands of people. And while some may have missed the significance, for me, it was a lesson that still lingers.
What struck me most was how Morris responded – with grace, clarity, and respect. He used the moment to educate without shaming, to create space without speaking over, and to remind us all that true Allyship is about supporting and elevating First Nations voices, not leading for them.
It also reminded me that supporting Aboriginal artists doesn’t stop at applause – it’s about sitting with them, learning, purchasing their work, and respecting their leadership.
This is the kind of real-world Allyship we’ll be exploring in next week’s Closing the Gap webinar. If you’re curious about what true Allyship looks like in action, and how you can apply it in your own life, I’d love for you to join us.
What do you take from this story? Did something here resonate with you, or challenge you?
Aunty and I will be unpacking these insights in our Closing the Gap webinar next week, and I’d love for you to join us:
National Closing the Gap Day and Webinar, Thursday 20 March, 1 – 2 pm
Grab your ticket here.
Join our community of Allies
Let’s show our Indigenous brothers and sisters that we are here for them, we value their Voices and we are committed to continuing the journey towards Reconciliation.
