BY HOLLY WELLS

PBS POV concluded its month-long showcase of Maya Newell’s In My Blood It Runs last week. 

This documentary follows the life of Dujuan Hoosan, an 11-year-old Arrernte and Garrwa boy from Alice Springs. 

The location of the documentary weaves between Hoosan’s family home in Alice Springs and Sandy Bore Homeland, before concluding at the Borroloola Community in the Northern Territory. 

The story highlights Hoosan’s struggle to succeed growing up in an education system that privileges white students. This central narrative is established from the opening sequence of the documentary. 

Despite his lack of academic prosperity, this is far from representative of Hoosan’s true character. 

Hoosan’s intelligence and spirit emanates throughout the film as he is portrayed proudly making use of his Ngangkere (healing powers) and ability to speak three languages.

In light of recent media attention on Australia’s history of under-representing First Nations people, the documentary is perfectly timed. 

In My Blood It Runs reflects a modern collaborative approach to documentary filmmaking, with Hoosan and his family featured as co-directors and co-cinematographers.

This process aims to preserve Hoosan and his family’s agency over how their image and narrative is represented throughout the film.

“The fact is that respectful collaborations are not the norm in Australian documentary, especially when it comes to Indigenous stories told by non-Indigenous directors and teams, and so in some ways we do stand out,” the production team posted on their website.  

“But it’s sad that we do – and without undermining the work, which we are proud of, we shouldn’t.”

Although the documentary’s editing relies heavily on montage sequences, Hoosan’s overlaid narration helps to maintain a seamless storyline. 

In an early scene of the documentary, viewers are taken into a classroom alongside Hoosan to observe his white teacher attempt to tell a story about the Dreaming. With a nonchalant wave of the hand, the teacher dismisses the story as unimportant and admits to not understanding the Spirit and the Dreaming. 

The camera cuts to an older Hoosan reflecting on this experience and her poor attempt to teach First Nations history.  

“The history that we’re told at home is in language and it’s about the Aborigines,” Hoosan said. 

“But the [history] back at school, that was for white people.”

Subtle micro-aggressions from Hoosan’s teacher towards First Nations history are among the most demoralising moments of the film. 

Hoosan’s interpretation of this particular instance emphasises that, despite his young age, Hoosan has a very mature understanding of the concept of racial disconnect in the Australian education system. 

With constant comparisons between Hoosan’s potential future at Don Dale Youth Detention Centre and his struggle to succeed in school, the documentary exemplifies why incarceration rates are so high for First Nations people.

At the time the documentary was filmed, 100 per cent of young people in juvenile detention in the Northern Territory were First Nations. 

Despite the commonly-held belief that education is a pivotal factor in keeping children away from the justice system, Director Maya Newell poses commentary on how white privilege in the Australian education system predisposes First Nations children to criminal justice institutions. 

Consequently, Hoosan’s family and broader community continue the fight to lead their own educational systems.

During one of the reflective segments which permeates the documentary, Hoosan’s grandmother Carol Turner expresses her desire for her grandchildren to speak and preserve the Arrernte language in addition to their Western education. 

“We want our kids to grow up learning in both ways,” Hoosan’s grandmother said.

In My Blood It Runs offers viewers insight into the daily suffering of Australian First Nations peoples as a result of modern colonisation.

In both its production and its output, this documentary should serve as the blueprint for telling First Nations stories.