Conservation across Country

A lot of organisations talk about ‘working with the Indigenous community’. But there’s a problem right there, when you think about it – there is no single Indigenous community in Australia. In fact, there are over 250 mobs across the country, with some mobs comprising upwards of seven individual clans.

“Everyone is so different,” says Celeste Ackerly, a Trawlwoolway woman from north-east Tasmania. “South Mob, North Mob, East, West. Mob is super diverse. It’s why it’s so important for conservation organisations to have diverse voices.”

As a member of The Nature Conservancy's Indigenous Landscapes team, Celeste helps Indigenous communities around Australia lead the conservation and management of their traditional lands. The team works with 42 Indigenous groups across the country, from Arnhem Land to Cape York, each with a different culture, different conservation priorities, and different geographical challenges.

On paper, it sounds straightforward enough: listen to communities, support their vision for Country, step back and let them lead. But working across different lands with different mobs means you can't bring the same approach to every project. What works in the Kimberley won't necessarily work in the Daintree. Some projects need more on-the-ground support, while others, for cultural reasons, might specifically require male or female input. Which is where Celeste and her Indigenous Landscapes teammates – Francis Malcolm, Chase Aghan and Gemma Cadd – come in.

Each team member brings their own mob's perspective and knowledge. Together and separately, they work to ensure each community can protect and manage Country on their own terms, without external organisations imposing solutions or assumptions about what conservation should look like. It's a process Chase calls “deep listening”. Rather than arriving with fixed intentions – even if those intentions are good – you're being invited onto Country with an open heart. And an open mind.

For Celeste, yarning is everything. Sitting down face to face, sharing knowledge and stories, building trust – that's how you unlock what a community actually needs. It's the foundation of TNC's entire Indigenous land management strategy, though it's something you don't usually see on conservation brochures, where the emphasis tends to be more on inputs and logistics. Funding and research, protection and politics.

“We practice what we preach too,” Celeste adds. “Whenever we have a team workshop, for example, we’re actually just doing yarning circles with each other. We go for a walk when we’re together in person and we yarn. That’s our strategy. We don’t believe in being prescriptive with agendas and outputs. We just listen and talk and be honest with each other.”

For more geospatial, on-the-ground projects, Chase might take the lead. When equity is involved, Celeste will step forward. If one of the group has connections with mob, or knows the Country better, they might take point on a particular project. The important thing is that every group member contributes, and every group member gets heard. The goal is to work together and collaborate, both internally and externally, by putting mob in what Chase calls “the driver’s seat”.

“No agenda. And deep Indigenous-centred strategies that put the needs of the people first, with conservation and self-determination as a byproduct. That’s what consultation should look like,” says Francis.

What the Indigenous Landscapes team are trying to avoid, when it comes to consultation, is anything resembling a box-ticking exercise. It has to be respectful, and it has to be meaningful. If the goal is land management and conservation, for example, it’s disingenuous to start there, because most organisations don’t even acknowledge all the foundational things that need to happen first. Things like resources and funding support, equity, partnership and land access.

It’s a potential model for other conservation organisations, and even government departments. A way of working with mob that celebrates diversity, harnesses traditional storytelling, and empowers local communities on the ground. Celeste and the team are broadening the idea of what Indigenous conservation means – and what it can achieve, when it’s done right.

“There’s Traditional Knowledge and intergenerational knowledge transfer,” Celeste says. “There's gender and equity. There’s governance and rights frameworks. All these things don't seem related to conservation. But they are.”

Chase nods. “Just sitting back and really listening, that’s when the doors start to open.”