Beyond the Horizon: Imagining Utopian Indigenous Futures
There’s been a lot of talk about Indigenous futures lately, particularly faraway futures beyond the immediate time horizon. Indigenous futurism has been described as a form of activism that dismisses the idea of a still-colonised future, unsettling settlers by breaking free of colonial conditioning and refusing to be frozen in time. When asked to forecast the life for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in 2050, most of us are lost for words—this silence is telling, this silence is troubling, and this silence needs examining.
Disclaimer: The views expressed are those of the author. This article mentions Indigenous children being taken from their families.
Why has it become so hard to imagine bright and flourishing Indigenous futures?
Imagining utopian futures for Indigenous peoples is more challenging than it first appears. A utopian Indigenous future is one of thriving communities where modern ideas and traditional ways blend seamlessly. Where there is no longer talk of ‘gaps’ to close, barriers or disadvantages but rather a narrative of excellence, betterment and where Indigenous knowledges and perspectives are sought to solve global challenges. Imagining this introduces potential risks as lifting our gaze to the future can mean shifting our energy from the pressing and real needs of the present.
Present-day realities demand our immediate attention as inequity and injustice profoundly influence the length and quality of life of Indigenous peoples. The disproportionate representation of Indigenous children in out-of-home care, for example, sees children separated from their families and culture, increasing trauma and disadvantage. While focus on the present is crucial, we need to also see it as an opportunity for long-term visionary thinking.
While we do our best to focus on ‘what is strong, not what is wrong’, we remain immersed in deficit discourses that hinder our ability to imagine flourishing futures for ourselves. Deficit discourses that frame Indigenous peoples in negative ways as ‘problems’ to be ‘dealt with’ are deeply ingrained, limiting not only the way Indigenous peoples are perceived by others but how we view ourselves. When we do dare to envision beyond the horizon, these deficit discourses seem to stain our imaginings, leading us to dystopian futures.
We must break free of the present-deficit mindset, as our ancestors did, so we can plant the seeds for bright futures that manifest our many aspirations. For example, The Murri School in Brisbane, a community owned and controlled independent school that boasts a connected and culturally rich learning environment. Another example is Mudth Niyleta Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Corporation which provides long term secure and affordable housing as well as health services to the First Nations community in Sarina, Queensland. Imagining utopian Indigenous faraway futures is a responsibility bequeathed to us and it is a gift we, in turn, bestow to those who come after us—for those whose names we will never know and faces we will never see.
Survivance, thrivance, and radical hope for the future
Radical hope is a concept drawn from the Native American Crow Nation that offers a pathway to transcend the limitations of a present-deficit mindset. It is the hope for a faraway future not yet conceivable but is built on the values and cultural strengths of Indigenous peoples. Radical hope emerges in moments where the future is highly uncertain, and this resonates deeply with many Indigenous communities around the globe, igniting optimism and inspiring faith in the potential for a more promising future. More than passive optimism, radical hope is about active engagement with the construction of self-determined possible futures, grounded in Indigenous survivance and thrivance.
Indigenous survivance—a term coined by Anishinaabe scholar Gerald Vizenor —refers to the active presence and endurance of Indigenous cultures in contemporary society despite colonisation and oppression. Survivance is about more than mere survival or the assertion that ‘we are still here’, it is a dynamic process of resilience, resistance and adaptability. Thrivance extends this concept, emphasising the flourishing of Indigenous communities in contemporary and future contexts.
Both survivance and thrivance as concepts promote the active, ongoing cultural vitality of Indigenous peoples, neutralising present-deficit thinking. Recent Indigenous language revitalisation endeavours exemplify survivance and thrivance by restoring, preserving and promoting their regular and continued use. Gumbaynggirr Giingana Freedom School, for example, is the first and only bilingual school of an Aboriginal language in New South Wales, ensuring the intergenerational transmission of language and culture.
Is it time to return to the Everywhen?
How time is constructed by Indigenous peoples plays a crucial role in the envisioning of faraway futures. In many Indigenous cultures, time is not perceived as a linear progression from past to present to future but rather as a cyclical and interconnected where past, present, and future co-exist simultaneously. Embracing the Everywhen honours and nurtures cultural continuity, deepening our understanding of our being and purpose.
This holistic view of time for some Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in Australia is often referred to as the Everywhen and describes the experience of time as the eternal or infinite present. Everywhen is a way of being in time, allowing for a seamless integration of ancestral wisdom, contemporary experiences and future aspirations. Embracing the Everywhen frees us from the Western view of time as linear, making space to ‘look as far into the future as we do into the past’. It is from this vantage point, that we can see all that was, all that is and all that may be possible.
Imagining utopian Indigenous futures is needed, perhaps now more than ever—it is our right and our responsibility, our inheritance and our legacy. Radical hope, survivance and thrivance and Everywhen, when woven together, form the cradle, the wellspring, from which unburdened imaginings of faraway utopian Indigenous futures can flourish.
Why not join me and let us-two imagine utopian Indigenous futures beyond the horizon.
Disclaimer: The views expressed are those of the author. This article mentions Indigenous children being taken from their families.
Why has it become so hard to imagine bright and flourishing Indigenous futures?
Imagining utopian futures for Indigenous peoples is more challenging than it first appears. A utopian Indigenous future is one of thriving communities where modern ideas and traditional ways blend seamlessly. Where there is no longer talk of ‘gaps’ to close, barriers or disadvantages but rather a narrative of excellence, betterment and where Indigenous knowledges and perspectives are sought to solve global challenges. Imagining this introduces potential risks as lifting our gaze to the future can mean shifting our energy from the pressing and real needs of the present.
Present-day realities demand our immediate attention as inequity and injustice profoundly influence the length and quality of life of Indigenous peoples. The disproportionate representation of Indigenous children in out-of-home care, for example, sees children separated from their families and culture, increasing trauma and disadvantage. While focus on the present is crucial, we need to also see it as an opportunity for long-term visionary thinking.
While we do our best to focus on ‘what is strong, not what is wrong’, we remain immersed in deficit discourses that hinder our ability to imagine flourishing futures for ourselves. Deficit discourses that frame Indigenous peoples in negative ways as ‘problems’ to be ‘dealt with’ are deeply ingrained, limiting not only the way Indigenous peoples are perceived by others but how we view ourselves. When we do dare to envision beyond the horizon, these deficit discourses seem to stain our imaginings, leading us to dystopian futures.
We must break free of the present-deficit mindset, as our ancestors did, so we can plant the seeds for bright futures that manifest our many aspirations. For example, The Murri School in Brisbane, a community owned and controlled independent school that boasts a connected and culturally rich learning environment. Another example is Mudth Niyleta Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Corporation which provides long term secure and affordable housing as well as health services to the First Nations community in Sarina, Queensland. Imagining utopian Indigenous faraway futures is a responsibility bequeathed to us and it is a gift we, in turn, bestow to those who come after us—for those whose names we will never know and faces we will never see.
Survivance, thrivance, and radical hope for the future
Radical hope is a concept drawn from the Native American Crow Nation that offers a pathway to transcend the limitations of a present-deficit mindset. It is the hope for a faraway future not yet conceivable but is built on the values and cultural strengths of Indigenous peoples. Radical hope emerges in moments where the future is highly uncertain, and this resonates deeply with many Indigenous communities around the globe, igniting optimism and inspiring faith in the potential for a more promising future. More than passive optimism, radical hope is about active engagement with the construction of self-determined possible futures, grounded in Indigenous survivance and thrivance.
Indigenous survivance—a term coined by Anishinaabe scholar Gerald Vizenor —refers to the active presence and endurance of Indigenous cultures in contemporary society despite colonisation and oppression. Survivance is about more than mere survival or the assertion that ‘we are still here’, it is a dynamic process of resilience, resistance and adaptability. Thrivance extends this concept, emphasising the flourishing of Indigenous communities in contemporary and future contexts.
Both survivance and thrivance as concepts promote the active, ongoing cultural vitality of Indigenous peoples, neutralising present-deficit thinking. Recent Indigenous language revitalisation endeavours exemplify survivance and thrivance by restoring, preserving and promoting their regular and continued use. Gumbaynggirr Giingana Freedom School, for example, is the first and only bilingual school of an Aboriginal language in New South Wales, ensuring the intergenerational transmission of language and culture.
Is it time to return to the Everywhen?
How time is constructed by Indigenous peoples plays a crucial role in the envisioning of faraway futures. In many Indigenous cultures, time is not perceived as a linear progression from past to present to future but rather as a cyclical and interconnected where past, present, and future co-exist simultaneously. Embracing the Everywhen honours and nurtures cultural continuity, deepening our understanding of our being and purpose.
This holistic view of time for some Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples in Australia is often referred to as the Everywhen and describes the experience of time as the eternal or infinite present. Everywhen is a way of being in time, allowing for a seamless integration of ancestral wisdom, contemporary experiences and future aspirations. Embracing the Everywhen frees us from the Western view of time as linear, making space to ‘look as far into the future as we do into the past’. It is from this vantage point, that we can see all that was, all that is and all that may be possible.
Imagining utopian Indigenous futures is needed, perhaps now more than ever—it is our right and our responsibility, our inheritance and our legacy. Radical hope, survivance and thrivance and Everywhen, when woven together, form the cradle, the wellspring, from which unburdened imaginings of faraway utopian Indigenous futures can flourish.
Why not join me and let us-two imagine utopian Indigenous futures beyond the horizon.