THE POWER OF VOICE: PROFESSOR RICHARD FRANKLAND ON STORYTELLING, RESILIENCE, AND RESPONSIBILITY
Professor Richard Frankland’s life journey defies convention. Leaving school at 13, he went on to become a filmmaker, musician, writer, academic, and advocate for Indigenous rights.
Yet, beyond the accolades, he identifies first and foremost as a family man.
His work has often carried a heavy emotional load, particularly during his time as an investigator for the Royal Commission into Aboriginal Deaths in Custody.
That experience deeply shaped his understanding of storytelling as both a cultural responsibility and a means of survival.
As he puts it, "When you’ve got art, you’ve got voice. And when you’ve got voice, you’ve got a sense of freedom… with that freedom comes a huge responsibility."
For Frankland, storytelling is not merely a creative act—it is an act of resistance against erasure. He speaks of the "cultural bomb" dropped by colonisers, designed to erase history and convince Indigenous peoples they had no past.
Through film, theatre, and music, he has fought to reclaim narratives from the dominant culture.
He believes that art should confront uncomfortable truths, whether in the boardroom, on the stage, or through a camera lens.
His insistence on Indigenous people telling their own stories stems from the reality that outsiders often fail to grasp the depth of lived experiences, from funeral after funeral to the protocols of cultural respect.
Frankland’s commitment to truth-telling extends beyond history—it also addresses the present-day struggles within communities.
He warns of the dangers of lateral violence, describing it as "internalised colonialism" that turns pain inward and divides people. "We are greater than that. We are better than that. We were better, we are better, and we will be better," he affirms, urging unity among storytellers, activists, and community leaders.
For him, solidarity is both a weapon against injustice and a shield against the pressures imposed by systems designed to suppress Indigenous agency.
Despite the weight of his work, Frankland maintains a forward-looking vision.
He believes in the power of the next generation—the "point of the spear"—to carry on the fight through film, writing, and advocacy. The cultural load is heavy, but he sees it as an honour, a sacred duty to "see the world through a mother’s tears" and still tell the story.
His message is clear: reclaim the voice, own the narrative, and keep planting seeds for the future. In his own words, "You are the foundation… the seed planters for our tomorrow Australia, for our home."