In this blog, Cally Jetta explores the history of the remote schooling system for Aboriginal communities and its current failing formula.

The year 2013 was significant in the policy landscape due to a federal election. In response to Howard’s 2007 Northern Territory intervention, Julia Gillard, the Australian Labor Party leader, presented the 2012 Stronger Futures legislation. This legislation focused on employment, education, community safety, policing, alcohol management, and welfare payment income management. It was building on the Closing the Gap initiative which was established in 2008. As a result, 2013 saw the highest number of academic journal articles published on remote education to date.

These journal articles collectively highlighted the disconnect between Western education and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander expectations and marked a critical point in understanding the failing policy landscape and its implications for remote education. Sadly, more than a decade later, this deep disconnect continues.

Personal experience

Remote living and teaching had been a personal and professional dream of mine for as long as I could remember. When the opportunity arose in 2018, I relocated with my partner and kids to the Northern Territory to take on the role of Academic Coordinator.

The small, Aboriginal owned and operated school of approximately 140 Aboriginal students was one of the most remote schools in Australia where English was a second or third language for the majority of local residents. Educators, doctors and police officers were among the only non-Indigenous peoples and outsiders to frequent the community.

I was hugely excited about working at an Aboriginal school and imagined that, after approximately a decade, the school would be well established and strong in local leadership, governance and teaching.

The reality was not only disappointing, but alarming. I became aware of a cyclical, remote school formula that benefits non-Aboriginal and external providers to the detriment of the local community, students and school.

The general formula

The formula goes like this: new – and often young, single or partnered – teachers are attracted to remote teaching positions, often for the financial and career incentives attached. With limited knowledge and exposure to Aboriginal communities and remote living, they often struggle both professionally and personally. Often, the remote schools are young and previous staff turnover has resulted in curriculum and behaviour management processes being limited in development.

As a result, the new teacher spends most of the first year just trying to find their feet, building relationships, and trying to figure out what and how to teach their students. By the time the teacher has developed some proficiency and is ready to add value to the school and community, their tenure is often up and they are ready to move on to something closer to home and their aspirations.

Worst case scenario, also quite common, is that the teacher never really finds their feet. The cultural and geographical shift is too great for them to overcome, and their limited teaching experience has not adequately equipped them for the academic and behavioural challenges they are constantly challenged with. They leave, sometimes before the agreed contract has finished, disheartened and with the belief that either they cannot educate well or that the Aboriginal students they tried to teach were not capable of learning. Both outcomes are very damaging to their overall mindset and perceptions of themselves, others and learning.

As many remote schools also attract or promote teachers looking to take on their initial leadership role, the guidance, resources and knowledgeable expertise needed to guide new teachers is often limited also. These factors, of course, have enormous ramifications for the school, students, and the community. A lack of leadership experience can impact not only staff retention and the quality of teaching provided but also the school’s overall financial management and policy development.

The community become disenchanted with the school serving the career progression ambitions and leadership experimentations of outsiders, more so than their young people, and lose faith in the school and ever-changing staff to have their best interests in mind and at heart.

The results

This was certainly the case at the school I worked at. The Aboriginal staff were tired of constantly welcoming new people, providing cultural training and awareness, only to eventually feel undervalued and abandoned by them. Additionally, tensions and cultural conflicts would often arise between local and external staff.

Some non-Aboriginal providers that came to the remote community immediately asserted their dominance and superiority over their local counterparts – most typically, the Aboriginal assistants they worked alongside in the classroom. They viewed the school, the Aboriginal staff, students and community from a non-Aboriginal perspective, making deficit judgements by refusing to learn and understand the cultural lens of the people whose Country they were living and working on.

Aboriginal voice, decision-making capacity and local ways of knowing, being and doing had been severely diminished and excluded from the school as a result of ongoing, external staff holding the vast majority of leadership positions.

This cycle is not new, nor is it confined to any one place. Most states and territories offer incentives to teach in rural or remote schools – this can look like cash incentives, rental subsidies, transfer points, additional leave and retention benefits. However, this can be a double-edged sword that attracts school leaders and teachers to remote locations purely for the benefits, ‘to do their time’ and return to the city. This of course is at a huge, ongoing expense to these remote schools. These funds could potentially better serve sustainable and self-determined approaches, such as upskilling local staff and improving educational resources for students.

There are aspects typical of remote Aboriginal schools that provide a strong argument for self-determined and community-led approaches to education. These include a much higher and frequent turnover of teachers and leaders in remote schools, resulting in the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander educators being the only consistent presence for students and their families. The ongoing challenges faced by remote Aboriginal communities in accessing equitable education are deeply rooted in policies that fail to address their unique cultural and contextual needs. The broader impacts on the community can be detrimental, leading to the loss of faith in formal education and cultural misunderstandings that do lasting damage to relationships.

The disconnect between current policy intentions and on-the-ground realities reinforces the urgent need for more community-led and culturally integrated approaches. By redirecting funding towards professional development for local educators and improving local infrastructure, governments and education departments can create more sustainable and community-driven educational environments that prioritise local Aboriginal leadership and self-determined approaches to schooling.

Looking forward

In the short term, mandatory pre-service teacher training focused on remote and Aboriginal education, along with improved recruitment processes, can help better prepare educators for the unique challenges of remote teaching.

Ultimately, Aboriginal students and their communities will benefit most from seeing their own people in positions of leadership and sustainable models that prioritise building local staff capacity, as opposed to funding a revolving door of external providers. Long-term success will depend on a fundamental commitment towards self-determined approaches that align educational values and aspirations with those of the local communities they serve.

It is the moral duty and obligation of remote school leaders and education departments to work towards Aboriginal self-determination and to support Aboriginal staff ability to develop into positions of leadership so that ultimately, the school is managed by them and not reliant on bringing in outsiders to function. This is not to say non-Aboriginal staff would be unwelcome or completely absent, but it would mean a shift in how the school is managed and led and which voices are heard loudest.

Dr Cally Jetta is an educator, researcher, activist and mother of four. She is currently a Senior Research Fellow with the Centre for Aboriginal Studies and Curtin Research Office at Curtin University, Perth. Cally respectfully acknowledges the Noongar Country and custodians where she and her family live and further acknowledges and celebrates our collective Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander nations and communities and their enduring wisdom and knowledge.

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