As we approach 26 January, it’s natural that emotions rise.
Australia Day has become one of the most debated dates on our national calendar, and for good reason.
For many First Nations people, it marks the beginning of invasion and the ongoing destruction and removal of culture from peoples who have lived on this land for tens of thousands of years.
As an Aboriginal woman who has grown up across Melbourne, Sydney, Brisbane, and Canberra, and as the daughter of an English father, I sit in a place of tension. I hold multiple truths at once.
For non-Indigenous Australians, 26 January represents the beginning of their story on this land. For First Nations peoples, it represents loss, trauma, and dispossession. Both experiences exist, yet we often speak past each other rather than with one another.
What strikes me is how deeply emotion drives this debate, emotion shaped by trauma, distrust, and a lack of understanding on all sides.
And perhaps that’s where the conversation keeps getting stuck.
When we look at other significant national dates, this tension becomes clearer. ANZAC Day, held on 25 April, is considered sacred in Australia. Yet it commemorates one of the most significant military failures in our history. The day is revered not because of victory, but because of sacrifice, courage, and shared humanity. Interestingly, Remembrance Day, on 11 November, which marks the end of the war, does not hold the same place in our national consciousness.
That contrast invites an important question: Is it possible to honour complexity rather than simplify history into comfort?
Proposals such as shifting towards an “Australia Weekend” rather than a single Australia Day may offer breathing room. But changing the format of celebration alone will not resolve the deeper challenges we face – ongoing inequity, structural and systemic racism, low cultural competency, and a continued lack of appreciation for the value First Nations cultures bring to this country today.
So as 26 January approaches, my invitation is simple.
Pause.
Reflect.
And ask yourself what this day means to you, and what it may mean to someone else.
Whether you call it Australia Day or Invasion Day, the opportunity remains the same: to choose understanding over defensiveness, curiosity over certainty, and a future built on respect rather than avoidance.
That, to me, is where true reconciliation begins.
