Indigenous Man Travels Thousands of Miles to Granddaughter’s Graduation

In December 2015, Yolngu elder Gali Yalkarriwuy Gurruwiwi traveled 3,000 kilometers from his home on a remote island for a single, defining moment. The trip took him from Elcho Island in northeast Arnhem Land to a school hall in Healesville, Victoria, to watch his granddaughter, Sasha, graduate. When he arrived, the man who spoke primarily in his traditional language simply touched his heart and said one word: “proud.”

But his journey was about more than just attending a ceremony. He was there to fulfill a personal dream: to perform a sacred, traditional dance with his granddaughter, an act that would bridge two vastly different worlds.

A Yolngu Elder’s Unbroken Promise

The trip was a 3,000-kilometer pilgrimage. Gali Gurruwiwi boarded a plane and flew from the remote community of Galiwin’ku on Elcho Island down to Healesville, Victoria, a town on the outskirts of Melbourne. For a Yolngu elder, this act of crossing the continent by choice was significant. It stood as a modern expression of will in a country where Indigenous people had historically faced forced relocation and controlled movement.

Upon his arrival at Worawa Aboriginal College, the weight of the moment was clear. Gali, a man who spoke primarily in his traditional language, simply touched his heart and said the single word “proud.” His wife, Jane Garrutju, who acted as his translator, explained the deep-seated motivation behind the arduous trip: “It was his dream,” she said, “to dance with his granddaughters here.”

That dream was realized in the school hall. Family reported that Gali felt unwell that morning, but he insisted on performing. He stood before the audience, not just as a grandfather, but as the designated custodian of the object he held: a sacred Banumbirr, or Morning Star pole. With his granddaughters, Sasha and Alicia, he performed the Lunggurrma (north wind) dance. The performance brought a sacred piece of his clan’s law and identity from Arnhem Land directly into the graduation ceremony.

Two Worlds, One Heart: The Life of Gali Gurruwiwi

The man who made the journey was Gali Yalkarriwuy Gurruwiwi (1942-2020), a senior elder of the Gälpu clan. He was known for walking a unique path, serving as both a senior ritual specialist in the traditional Yolngu world and as a devout leader in the Galiwin’ku Uniting Church. For Gali, there was no contradiction. He pointed to a moment in his youth when he learned that Jesus is likened to the morning star in the Bible, seeing it as a link between his Christian faith and his own ancestral tradition.

His primary cultural responsibility was the Banumbirr, or Morning Star, tradition. This sacred custodianship—including the songs, the knowledge, and the exclusive right to create the ceremonial poles—was passed directly to him from his father, Gapuka. 

Gali dedicated his life to this duty, teaching his own sons and grandchildren to ensure the tradition would continue.

This work was not confined to his community. As a master craftsman, Gali’s Morning Star poles gained international recognition. He was an eight-time finalist in the prestigious National Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Art Awards, and his art is held in the permanent collections of institutions like the National Gallery of Australia and the National Gallery of Victoria.

Blood, Law, and Feathers: The Anatomy of a Sacred Bond

In Yolngu culture, a ceremonial dance, known as bunggul, is not a performance for entertainment. It is a living archive, a way of passing down history and law from one generation to the next. Each movement reenacts the journeys of ancestral creator beings, reinforcing a clan’s rights and connection to a specific area of land.

The Banumbirr pole Gali held is a physical representation of this principle. It symbolizes the Morning Star (the planet Venus), which the Yolngu believe guided two ancestral creator beings, the Djang’kawu Sisters, on their original journey across Arnhem Land. 

The pole, crafted from wood, string, and specific bird feathers, is therefore more than an art object; it is considered a conduit to the ancestral realm.

Underpinning all of this is the complex Yolngu kinship system known as gurruṯu. This system divides everything in the universe—people, animals, plants, and land—into two halves, or moieties: Dhuwa and Yirritja. Gali Gurruwiwi belonged to the Dhuwa moiety. This social law dictates everything from marriage rules to ceremonial duties, creating an unbreakable web of relationships and responsibilities. The bond between Gali and Sasha was a direct expression of this kinship structure, making his journey not just a personal choice, but a fulfillment of cultural obligation.

A Granddaughter ‘Walking in Two Worlds’

The graduation ceremony took place at Worawa Aboriginal College, the only registered independent Aboriginal school in Victoria. The school was founded with a specific mission: to provide a “two-way” or bicultural education. Its goal is to deliver the mainstream Australian curriculum through an Aboriginal lens, ensuring students can succeed in modern Australia without losing connection to their heritage.

This philosophy aligned perfectly with the Gurruwiwi family’s own goals for Sasha. Her grandmother, Jane Garrutju, explained they sent her thousands of kilometers from home to “give her a chance to be anything she wanted to be” while being able to “balance Western culture and our culture.” 

For Sasha, this meant leaving behind a life of hunting and fishing on Elcho Island for a boarding school education. While she missed home, she strengthened her knowledge of her own culture while also learning from other Indigenous students from across the country.

The result of this journey—both hers and her grandfather’s—was a young woman who could state with confidence, “I walk proudly in both worlds.” Her aspirations reflected this balance. She planned to finish her senior years and pursue a career as a nurse, with the goal of working in both her home community of Galiwin’ku and in Melbourne. Beyond her own career, she aimed to be a role model, showing other young Indigenous girls that they can “do something with their lives and be happy” without sacrificing who they are.

The Morning Star Still Rises

Gali Gurruwiwi’s journey was more than just a family trip; it was a modern act of cultural assertion. By using an airplane to travel across the continent on his own terms, he subtly inverted a history where the movement of Aboriginal people was often controlled by state and mission systems.

The dance itself acted as a bridge across multiple divides. In that school hall, the 3,000 kilometers between Arnhem Land and Victoria disappeared. The sacred, ancestral law of the Yolngu met the secular space of a Western-style education. An ancient tradition was made visible and vital in the present day.

Gali Yalkarriwuy Gurruwiwi passed away in 2020, but the impact of his journey continues. His story serves as a clear picture of family strength, the importance of an education that respects a student’s identity, and the living reality of Indigenous culture in Australia today. His dream was not just for his granddaughter to get a certificate, but for her and the generations to follow to carry their culture forward with confidence. The dance in Healesville was that dream made real.