In the early days of what was then Twitter, the social media platform was a place where First Nations people could feel seen, share their thoughts and feelings with each other, and meet people from their communities, says Goorie and Koori poet Evelyn Araluen.
Araluen, who won the 2022 Stella Prize for her debut poetry collection Dropbear and the 2026 Victorian Prize for Literature for The Rot, says social media used to provide a space for people to come together.
"X, for example, Twitter, that used to be a really wonderful space for mob to come together and have yarns and share their identities, their cultures, their history, their thoughts, their reflections," Araluen says.
"And we had amazing conversations across so many different cultural divides.
"And in the years that I was really active on Twitter, I met so many Blackfellas through those spaces, and it felt like there was a really strong sense of collectivity there."
Then things changed.
In 2022, the richest man in the world Elon Musk completed his takeover of Twitter, later re-naming it and implementing a number of changes including sacking outsourced content moderators.
Araluen says the renamed X is no longer a safe space for marginalised peoples.
"Anytime anything related to Indigeneity, First Nations context, Aboriginal context is mentioned, the flood of comments are so violent and heinous and disgusting that it really just isn't safe for mob to be in those spaces whatsoever anymore," she says.
Araluen says while discrimination and nasty comments have always been there, there used to be better systems in place to block, delete and remove that kind of commentary from individual feeds.
She thinks things have got much worse since the 2023 Australian Indigenous Voice to Parliament referendum, not just online, but in schools, universities and workplaces, and research backs this up.
"Now the gloves are off and racists feel like they have permission to say things that they might have otherwise been cautious about saying in public, because now they know that they've got enough people to back them up in order to make those comments without really strong fear of reproach," Araluen says.
Blak & Bright a space for these conversations
Araluen says this is why Australia's only gathering of First Nations writers and storytellers Blak & Bright Writers Festival matters.
It will take place in Naarm (Melbourne) from September 3-6.
It's a space where people can engage with the richness, complexity and power of First Nations storytelling.
Featured speakers include Araluen, Melissa Lucashenko, Chelsea Watego, Tony Armstrong, Bruce Pascoe, Tasma Walton, Brooke Blurton, Anita Heiss, Claire G Coleman and many others.
Araluen is a big believer in building broad coalitions and is encouraging people from all walks of life to attend.
"While the speakers are First Nations, this is not a festival that closes doors for the broader public to come and attend and to join in on these yarns," Araluen says.
"We want a sense of community and collectivity to come out of this, which goes beyond race, colour, creed."
Ten years of Blak & Bright
Blak & Bright artistic director and CEO Bebe Oliver, who is an award-winning Bardi Jawi author, poet and illustrator, echoes these sentiments.
"Our underlying belief is that Blak stories are for everyone," Oliver says.
"And so, you don't need to be an Aboriginal, Torres Strait Islander, First Nations or person of colour to attend our festival or any of our events.
"We simply ask that you come with an open mind and with an open heart and a commitment to learning and to changing as well."
He's also urging people to seek out First Nations storytellers.
"People need to not just attend the festival but need to be reading and listening to more Blak stories than we already do," Oliver says.
With Blak & Bright taking place every two years since 2016, Oliver celebrates the milestone while acknowledging that writers' festivals more broadly have come up against many challenges of late.
"It's deeply concerning to see the constant flux and changes that are happening within the broader national literary industry," he says.
"Funding cuts, left, right, and centre, constant ongoing censorship regarding what can be spoken and written about.
"Pressures, from publishing houses, from agents and publicists to say these are the hot topics that really sell right now, perhaps you could write more about this, we push against all of that.
"And we focus solely on the need to see the broader Australian community understand and acknowledge that First Nations storytelling is the absolute heart of our entire industry.
"We've made such huge progress over the last 10 years … and to see that our festival has been able to continue, it's been able to grow despite all of those challenges and setbacks, it's a testament to the resilience and strength of Blak stories."
