Aunty Fay Carter: mother, grandmother, 'force of nature', storyteller

Photos are used with the permission of Aunty Fay Carter's family.

Aunty Fay Carter was born on the verandah of the Echuca Hospital, as Aboriginal mothers were not permitted on the wards.

Eighty-nine years later, she embarked on a final journey to the Dreamtime, having helped establish welfare services, organisations and a native title settlement that would pave the way for First Nations leaders like herself.

Aunty Fay was farewelled at a state funeral service at the Ulumbarra Theatre on Wednesday, June 12.

The moving service was attended by Aunty Fay's family, friends and representatives of the state government.

She was remembered for her strength, determination, perseverance and generosity.

Threading through the service was recollections of her stories, many that have inspired and would inspire generations to come.

Stories included Aunty Fay and her family walking off the Cummeragunja Mission in NSW near Barhmah, in protest of their treatment and being raised by her grandmother in a tin shed on The Flats, outside Mooroopna.

In delivering the eulogy artist Tiriki Onus said "there are just so many stories" of some of her brilliance.

"I come here with a challenge. I've come here to set some homework," he said.

"Each and everyone of you will have stories of this incredible human being. But they are not stories in and of themselves that thrive without us telling them.

"If there are more stories that you would know, then go seek them out and tell other people. You don't have to stand on a stage like this. Tell them around kitchen tables, tell the stories to the people you love."

He urged people to "find those stories that make you strenghten you spine, make you lift up your head and puff out your chest" because every story of Aunty Fay "is one of those".

Mr Onus said that her passing from this world would not "stop the stories and the strength, the force of nature" that was Aunty Fay.

"So I invite you to be swept up in that," he said.

Her son, Rodney Carter, said stories of hardship were what gave her, and in turn him, strength.

"Your grandmother taught you that when you were picked upon not to worry because one day they would understand who you are and treat you better," he said.

"You had to stand at the back wall of a shop until everyone else was served and then it was your turn.

"You've shared so many of your memories with me and sometimes with tears in your eyes because of your sadness, but you have given me your wisdom, your tolerance, and your love.

"You speak of your life with happiness and tell us to be thankful for being at all.

"Understanding that our existence is right and proper because the old people before us were beautiful people."

Mr Carter said towards the end of her life, Aunty Fay received the culturally appropriate care from an aged care service she helped establish more than 30 years ago.

"Your journey of work and caring for others led you to social service and I recall the pride you had in yourself when you achieved a diploma of social work," Mr Carter said.

"Now you were going to spend a large part of your life in Aboriginal affairs to help our people like had never been before."

Aunty Fay helped set up the Aboriginal Community Elders Service, which she managed for 16 years and was chair of the Victorian Aboriginal Child Care Agency for 10 years.

Although she formally retired at 72, Aunty Fay's efforts and advocacy for her community continued. She was a pivotal part of the negotiations for a native title settlement in 2013 which formally recognised the Dja Dja Wurrung People as the Traditional Owners of the lands in central Victoria.

The funeral included tributes from Premier Jacinta Allan on behalf of the people of Victoria, as well as former Aboriginal affairs minister Gavin Jennings and Aboriginal public servant Terry Garwood.

One of Aunty Fay's granddaughter, Natasha Carter, said stories of her Guka, meaning grandmother, would give strength to the next generation of First Nations leaders.

"Being around Guka felt like being around an extension of yourself, like being around your ancestors, your culture, your connection," she said.

"She was filled with stories; funny stories, sad stories, stories that would make you wild.

"Those stories are a part of us. Guka's story is a part of us."