Ivy Trevallion

Senior Social Worker

I am Aunty Ivy Trevallion, a proud Torres Strait Islander woman born on Thursday Island with roots tracing back to the beautiful Dauan and Saibai Islands, with connections with the Dhoeybaw, Saibai Keodal, Samu, Burum Thabu, and Sui Baidam Clans. I am a fluent speaker of Kalaw Kawaw Ya, Cerole, and my third language is English, which I learned in school. Education was a treasure my father sought for his family, which meant moving the family to Thursday Island when I was just two or three years old. We settled in a vibrant community known as B camp with my mother’s parents, steeped in love and family connections.

In February 1962, my father found work with the Department of Native Affairs as a native policeman, which brought us to a new home in Tamwoy, a place still under construction, consisting of only two rows of houses. Growing up in Tamwoy Town, I experienced life under the Department’s control, which dictated our paths and futures. The Department of Native Affairs, a government body responsible for the administration of Indigenous affairs, played a significant role in our lives, often making decisions that affected our community without our input. After high school, the girls were sent to business college, and the boys were sent to make a trade in the mines. It was a pivotal moment that thrust me into an exhilarating yet daunting world.

The trip to Brisbane was arranged straight after the floods of 1974. I was to attend Seven Hills Technical College and live in a hostel, where I formed lifelong friendships. There, I began to appreciate the significance of community and support.

Upon returning to Thursday Island, I became an Assistant Liaison Officer in the newly formed Welfare Section of the Department of Native Affairs. This program was set by Mrs Elizabeth Hindson, the second Aboriginal Social Worker to graduate from the University of Queensland. Working in this program ignited my passion for working with my people.

Embracing Torres Strait Islander culture, one of the cultural information/knowledge that I was taught was that children were very important in everyone’s lives because they are considered “gifts from God.” This meant that children were shared amongst the families—a belief that shaped my relationships and led me to live with families who became integral to my life.

My second father, from New South Wales, influenced my early explorations of welfare work.  In 1976, I successfully joined the Aboriginal Task Force in Adelaide, the only course offered in the country for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people. The course taught you how to work in any community. It had a group dedicated to advocating for the rights of Indigenous people. This experience opened my eyes to the political realities facing Indigenous people nationwide as we worked to address issues such as land rights, education, and healthcare. For example, I portrayed a mother whose child was taken away in the street play. This was my introduction to the painful history of what occurred in Australia, now known as the Stolen Generations. This experience and knowledge had a profound impact on me.

My pursuit of education was relentless, starting with a Community Development Certificate and an Associate Diploma in Social Work. I continuously moved between my biological and chosen family, enriching my life and supporting my aspirations. On my 21st birthday, I celebrated in Mareeba, reflecting on Indigenous people’s challenges, particularly in social work employment.

In 1982, I boldly moved to Brisbane, transferring my job to TAFE while applying to the University of Queensland. I was accepted into the Bachelor of Social Work program, a dream that became a reality. In 1986, I graduated with a Bachelor of Social Work—a testament to perseverance and community support.

I wear many hats today: senior social worker, project officer, and active community member. I chair the Kupai Omasker Working Party, serve as President of the Torres Strait Islander Media Association, and am a Board Member of Kaziw Meta Residential College. I proudly belong to the Mura Kosker Sorority and Lena Passi Women’s Shelter, and I recently became a Director of the Healing Foundation.

A commitment to justice has fuelled my journey, but I am acutely aware of the persisting systemic challenges. Understanding the political machine and the government’s reluctance to hand over control to Torres Strait Islander people motivates my work. I witness how individuals like Ed, who have faced similar systemic racism, continue to struggle against these barriers.

I have a unique perspective, having been married for 36 years to a non-Indigenous person. My husband’s experience with racism became starkly apparent when we visited my aunt in palliative care. His role as a supportive community member was questioned, revealing the underlying biases that persist even against those who strive to help.

Racism and control mechanisms continue to affect us. While healthcare professionals may understand our culture, the administrative layers often perpetuate outdated policies that stifle our autonomy. The resilience of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people is remarkable; despite the atrocities faced, we continue to assert our dignity and fight for our rights.

The recognition I received through an honorary doctorate acknowledges my work as a social worker, like that given to Dr Margaret Valadian, AO MBE, who graduated from the University of Queensland with a Bachelor of Social Studies in 1966, Master of Education at the University of Hawaii in 1969; and Master of Social Welfare at The State University of New York in 1973. This honour symbolises the collective efforts of those who work with families and communities, driven by a strong commitment to justice and change. It is a testament to our progress and a reminder of the work ahead.

My belief in the sacredness of children is profound. To discover you are pregnant is a gift from God; children do not belong solely to their parents but to the community. This sacred view strengthens our ties and motivates us to advocate for future generations. Each child is not just a child of their biological parents but a cherished member of a broader family network—rooted in our people’s traditions and collective responsibilities. This communal approach to raising children teaches resilience and nurtures the spirit of kinship, which is vital in our cultural fabric.

As I continue engaging with various communities, I struggle to balance the Western social work frameworks with my culture’s rich oral traditions. I must communicate with respect and understanding to honour the lived experiences of those I serve while integrating my knowledge of both worlds. I strive to create a bridge between these realms, ensuring that the voices of my people are heard and valued in the process.

Moreover, the ongoing challenges of systemic racism and cultural misunderstanding fuel my commitment to advocacy and education. Change must come from within our communities, supported by allies who recognise our sovereignty. With every interaction, I work toward dismantling the stereotypes and biases that historically marginalised us.

As I look forward to the future, I remain hopeful. I envision a world where our children can grow up proud of their identity, free from the constraints of outdated policies, and where they are seen as the gifts they are—embodying the dreams and aspirations of our ancestors. Together, we can foster an environment where cultural richness is celebrated and everyone, regardless of their background, finds a place of belonging.

As we enter the new year, I wish for peace, understanding, and unity within our communities. May we continue to uplift one another, ensuring that our legacies endure and that our children inherit a world filled with love, respect, and opportunity. I urge our Torres Strait Islander families to reach out to Wakai Waian Healing in times of struggle and distress and in times of connection and unity. We are here for you in good times and bad. That is our job as mental health workers and clinicians. We are here to listen and assist you in finding calm seas. We all deserve a life full of family connections, friends, health, peace, and joy.