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Kalgoorlie actor Meyne Wyatt makes impassioned speech on Indigenous injustice on Q&A

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Kalgoorlie-born actor Meyne Wyatt has given an impassioned speech about injustice towards Indigenous Australians on an episode of ABC’s Q&A on Monday night

Wyatt – a Wongutha-Yamatji man – joined the Q&A panel as they discussed the racial protests that have griped America, and now Australia.

While on the topic of the Black Lives Matter movement and Australia’s record of black deaths in custody, the Neighbours star became emotional as he explained that racism has been “continuous since Captain Cook landed on these shores.”

“It’s a denial of our existence,” he stated.

“We’re demanding justice. And those protests in America – they’re not protests, they’re demanding it.

“There are riots and people are talking about order. Who cares about order if there’s no justice? We want justice. I’m sick of talking about being in order – you know what? It doesn’t work. Being peaceful – peaceful protests – don’t work.”

The audience remained silent as Wyatt continued his impassioned passage, raising his voice as he complained of having to “sit here and be the nice guy.”

“I’m sick of it,” he said.

“Everyone sits there and listens to you be this animal. I don’t want to be an animal no more.”

Wyatt then ended the ABC show with a monologue from his play City of Gold, that sees him talk about being sick of being cast in stereotypical roles.

“Silence is violence. Complacency is complicit. I don’t want to be quiet. I don’t want to be humble. I don’t want to sit down,” he delivered to the camera.

READ THE FULL TRANSCRIPT OF MEYNE WYATT’S SPEECH BELOW

I’m always gonna be your black friend, aren’t I? That’s all anybody ever sees.

I’m never just an actor. I’m an Indigenous actor. I love reppin’, but I don’t hear old Joe Bloggs being called quite white Anglo-Saxon actor.

I’m always in the black show, the black play.

I’m always the angry one, the tracker, the drinker, the thief.

Sometimes I want to be seen for my talent, not my skin colour, not my race.

I hate being a token. Some box to tick, part of some diversity angle.

“What are you whingeing for? You’re not a real one anyway. You’re only part.”

What part, then? My foot? My arm? My leg? You’re either black or you’re not.

You want to do a DNA test? Come suck my blood.

“How are we to move forward if we dwell on the past?” That’s your privilege. You get to ask that question. Ours is we can dance and we’re good at sport.

You go to weddings, we go to funerals.

No, no, no, you’re not your ancestors. It’s not your fault you have white skin, but you do benefit from it.

You can be OK. I have to be exceptional. I mess up, I’m done. There’s no path back for me. There’s no road to redemption.

Being black and successful comes at a cost. You take a hit whether you like it or not. Because you want your blacks quiet and humble.

You can’t stand up, you have to sit down. Ask the brother-boy Adam Goodes.

A kid says some racist sh*t — not ignorant — racist. Calling a black fella an ape?

C’mon man we was flora and fauna before 1967, nah actually we didn’t even exist at all.

This was a learning moment. He taught that kid a lesson.

Didn’t like that? A black man standing up for himself? Nah, they didn’t like that.

“Shut up, boy, you stay in your lane. Any time you touch a ball, we’re gonna boo your a**e.”

So he showed them a scary black, throwing imaginary spears and sh*t.

Did they like that? They didn’t like that. Every arena and stadium booed him.

“It’s because of the way the flog plays football.” Bullsh*t. No-one booed him the way they booed him until he stood up and said something about race.

The second he stood up, everybody came out of the woodworks to give him sh*t. And he’s supposed to sit there and take it? I’ll tell you right now, Adam Goodes has taken it, his whole life he’s taken it. I’ve taken it.

No matter what, no matter how big, how small, I’ll get some racist sh*t on a weekly basis and I’ll take it.

It used to be in your face, “Ya b***g, ya black dog, c**n”, kind of sh*t.

“I’m gonna chase ya down the ditch with my baseball bat”, skinhead sh*t when I was 14 years old.

“Nah, we’re progressive, now, we’ll give you the small, subtle sh*t.” The sh*t that’s always been there. Not the obvious, in-your-face sh*t. It’s the “we can’t be seen to be racist” kind of sh*t.

Security guard following me around the store, asking to search my bag.

Walking up to the counter first being served, second or third or last kind of sh*t.

Or hailing down a cab and watching it slow down to look at my face and then drive off. More than once. More than twice. More than once-twice on any one occasion — yeah, that sh*t, I’ll get weekly.

Sometimes I’ll get days in a row if I’m really lucky.

And that’s the kind of sh*t I let them think they’re getting away with.

To be honest, I can’t be bothered. I can’t be bothered teaching their ignorant ar**s on a daily basis. I don’t have the energy or the enthusiasm.

It’s exhausting, and I like living my life.

But on occasion, when you caught me on a bad day where I don’t feel like taking it, I’ll give you that angry black you’ve been asking for and I’ll tear you a new a**hole.

Not because of that one time, because of my whole life.

At least Adam danced and they still pissed and moaned. But it’s not about that one time, it’s about all those times.

And seeing us as animals, that sh*t needs to stop.

Black deaths in custody, that sh*t needs to stop.

I don’t want to be what you want me to be. I want to be what I want to be.

Never trade your authenticity for approval.

Be crazy, take a risk, be different, offend your family.

Call them out.

Silence is violence. Complacency is complicity.

I don’t want to be quiet. I don’t want to be humble. I don’t want to sit down.

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