The early lives of Mary Terszak and Janice Bellamy could not have been more different. While Janice thrived in a nurturing stronghold, Mary was ripped from her mother’s care to become a product of the Australian government’s plan for assimilation. Connections to generations past can provide comfort, security and a strong sense of self. But what happens to your identity when these connections are severed? EMMA SWAIN reports.
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In the wilderness of her mind and deep in the depths of her psyche Mary Terszak was once a flaxen-haired toddler riding on her father’s shoulders.
She would run down to a creek and swing through the trees.
“Lately, I’ve been thinking about what it could have been like with my parents,” Mary said.
“And the fantasy goes on and on. But it is all fantasy, and something I’ve made up in my head.”
On October 16, 1944, Mary Rose Woods (as she was then named) was snatched from her family and driven away to spend the next 18 years at Sister Kate’s Children’s Home in Queens Park, Western Australia.
At the time, Mary was barely two years old and a victim of a racist government determined to breed out colour.
Now 71, Mary remains a poignant example of what is known as the Stolen Generation.
Next week the East Maitland woman will share her heart-wrenching story as part of Generations – the next instalment of Maitland City Library’s Look Who’s Talking Program for 2014.
“My first thought when it comes to the word generation is one of confusion,” Mary said.
“I’ve come to understand that I was never the child I was born to be. I was made up. This person who stands here today is not related to the child who was born.
“I was this little Aboriginal baby until I was two years old, then my whole world changed and I was made to believe I was white.”
In 1988, when she was 47, Mary embarked on a mission to unearth her past.
Her search produced a paper revealing that the government of Western Australia had its eye on the little fair-skinned girl shortly after her birth.
The document read: “During my visit to Carrolup (Native Settlement)
. . . I noticed the child Mary Rose Woods. This child attracted my attention in view of her extreme lightness. Although only a child, this infant could quite easily be taken for a white child and I, therefore, draw your attention to this matter as it may be contemplated to remove her to Sister Kate’s Home.”
“It was the most unexplainable feeling, to see such documents written about me and my life as a baby and to know I was the subject of a policy of separating pale-skinned children from their parents,” Mary said.
To say the result of this separation has had a profound psychological impact on Mary would be a gross understatement.
“We were all brainwashed into believing we were orphans and we never once celebrated a birthday in the home. I believed I was nobody’s child,” Mary said.
“There were lots of times when you would cry yourself to sleep with your head under the covers so nobody would hear you.
“It really was heartbreaking.”
After years of believing her parents were dead, Mary discovered in the 1980s that her mother, Elizabeth was alive. And, in 1989, mother and daughter were reunited.
“When I called into my mother’s place for the first time in my life, I was shocked, embarrassed and totally beside myself, because I had visualised her different to how she appeared,” Mary said.
“Here was this tiny, little dark woman with shoes and socks on, long hair parted in the middle and tied back in a ponytail, no teeth, leg in plaster and dark glasses on.
“It was strange. I didn’t feel love. I just didn’t love her ... I will never, ever forgive the government for forcing the policies and practices that denied me of my mother’s love.”
Elizabeth has since died and the identity of Mary’s father remains a mystery.
These days, and decades into her healing, Mary had crowded her book case with what she calls “my Aboriginal books” and is looks forward to hanging a large black and white photograph of the children of Sister Kate’s Children’s Home.
“You have all these memories and then you see a photo and you start to realise how many people have gone. It’s like any photo I guess, but for me it’s precious,” Mary said.
“I used to hold onto one of the girls’ dresses and cry, when she was six and I was four, I must have done that with my mother I think.
“It’s an image of who we are, who we were.”
Joining Mary on the Look Who’s Talking platform will be Janice Bellamy. On the flip side to Mary’s anguish is Janice’s tale of love.
Brought up on the far north coast, near Lismore, Janice grew up surrounded by family.
“There were four strands of my father’s family there so I had family around me all the time. My grandparents were on the next farm and we’d call in and have a chat, things like that,” Janice, 67, also of East Maitland, said. “It was just family and it was lovely.”
As a young woman Janice was exposed to the live of those living in a nearby orphanage. What followed was a tremendous sense of community.
“We were introduced to helping others from a very young age,” Janice said.
“Some people have a lot of dislocation in their lives and some of it is awfully tragic, but even ordinary lives have dislocation, but if you’ve got the advantage of having the support of extended family it cushions it.
“I’ll never forget, as long as I live, being in this room full of women, aunts, great aunts, great-great aunts, it was tremendous. It represented this wonderful linkage through the generations.”
* Mary and Janice will share their stories at Maitland Library on Wednesday at 6pm. During the event Mary will read from her book Orphaned by the Colour of My Skin – A Stolen Generation.