|
|
BLACK AND WHITE: Breaking through barriers
Issue 136 - 23 Aug 2007
Issue 136, August 23, 2007: Hand-outs and humbugging aren't part of Des Rogers' style. In Alice Springs, GRAHAM RING has a yarn with a self-made man.
Des Rogers is a Southern Arrernte man who was born in Alice Springs “a long time ago”. As a youngster, he moved around a bit, attending school in the satellite city of Gawler in South Australia, where his formal academic record was pretty unspectacular.
“I went to year eight twice and failed both times. I left school, travelled around Australia, then came back to Alice.”
As a young fella, Rogers was something of a tearaway.
“I've never made a secret of the fact that like most Indigenous kids of my era, I got in trouble with the police.”
In the early seventies, young black men didn't have to do much to attract the attention of the law.
Des spent three months in prison for car theft, and on his return to Alice Springs found himself again in trouble.
He was a guest of Her Majesty for a second time at Yatala Prison on a break and enter conviction, and during that stay he made a decision to do something more purposeful with his life.
“It changed my life down there and I've never been in trouble since” he says.
“I came back to Alice Springs and got a job as a garbo - I was a lot fitter and thinner then,” he chuckles.
“Then I was in the right place at the right time, and was offered a job as a truck driver with Bushfires NT in the Department of Transport and Works.”
This temporary job was parlayed over 17 years into the rather more senior role of Regional Manager for the southern half of the Territory.
While the next logical career move was to Darwin, Des was determined to stay in Alice, so he left the public service.
“I applied for a 'business funding scheme' loan from ATSIC and bought a supermarket where I started Red Centre Produce, wholesaling fruit and vegetables.”
During this period, Rogers was also elected as Chair of ATSIC's Alice Springs Regional Council.
“I'd always been a critic of ATSIC, but I thought the way to change the system was to get into the system. It was enjoyable. We achieved a lot, as most regional councils did, even on a very limited budget.”
While running a profitable business and holding down a full-time job chairing the ATSIC regional council, Rogers somehow found the time to win a seat on the Alice Springs Town Council.
Frustrated and angry about the abolition of ATSIC, he subsequently resigned and went back to Wallace Rockhole, a hundred-odd kilometres west of Alice Springs to have a think about life.
“I wanted to see if the government could improve the delivery of services to remote communities, but in the two years I was home nothing changed.”
Des is critical of key aspects of the federal government's current foray into the Northern Territory.
“There is no genuine local Indigenous participation. It's all just being imposed by outsiders. One of the things the federal government hasn't admitted in the current intervention is that the Indigenous Co-ordination Centres have failed, and the COAG trial sites have failed. And now we're embarking on another experiment.”
Rogers is annoyed at the federal government's habit of making promises but not following through.
“Who suffers?” he asks rhetorically. “It's the blackfellas sitting in the dirt.”
If Des has moved around the country quite a bit, he has never lost touch with his culture.
“I have cultural commitments and obligations that I participate in on an annual basis. I do that with great joy. It gives me a grounding and brings me back to my law and culture. If you want to participate in this western world, you have to make a decision. But it's not about giving up historical rights and it's not about giving up culture. It's about managing things.”
After 30 trouble-free years, the ghost of Des' criminal record rose unexpectedly to haunt him.
Rogers had taken part in a radio interview with Indigenous Affairs Minister, Mal Brough, and had also spent half an hour talking to him off-air. Soon after, on a visit to Canberra, Rogers accepted an invitation from the Minister's minder to get in touch about 'an opportunity'.
In the back of a ministerial car heading to the airport, Brough offered Rogers a position on the National Indigenous Council.
“I thought it over for a few days and agreed to put my hand up,” Rogers told me.
Initially there was a flurry of paperwork for Rogers to sign, to expedite the appointment.
“Then, for five or six weeks I never heard anything, and the minder wasn't returning my calls. When I eventually got on to him, he told me they had run a police check on me and discovered my convictions. I was told it would cause political problems for the Minister if I joined the Council.”
So the carpet was pulled out from under Rogers' feet because of his youthful transgressions, and the Minister didn't even have the courtesy to inform him.
“I was deeply disappointed because I felt I had something to contribute” says Rogers.
“I'm a great believer that you need to be inside the room. We need to be at the table and participate in the dialogue. Otherwise, as Indigenous people, you just don't have a voice. I'm not going to lay down and die. I'm going to stand up and fight. I've been fighting all my life.”
While Des' days of settling arguments with force are long behind him, Black & White gains the distinct impression that he could look after himself more than adequately if the need arose. These days, security is his business.
In December of last year, after two years of research and development, Des started the Peppered BLACK security organisation.
It was in part a response to the anti-social behaviour which bedevils Alice Springs.
“Once again, we as Indigenous people had not been consulted about how to deal with this. I thought that with my business experience I could apply a business model to a social issue. I have a passion and a drive to employ, train, and mentor Indigenous people.
“We've come a long way in a short time. Currently, we've got eight Indigenous employees out of a staff of 14. We have two Indigenous women working for us now, which is fantastic. But we also have a South-African, a Sri Lankan, an Italian and a New Zealander,” Des laughs, making a crack about the 'united nations'.
“We call our staff 'security ambassadors' because they are ambassadors for the business, for Indigenous people and for the whole community.”
Rogers suggests that the make-up of the team is also an advantage in dealing with Aboriginal people.
“Sometimes just being Indigenous is enough to help defuse a situation before it gets out of control. We focus on our major clients - the Yeperenye Shopping Centre and the Alice Springs Hospital. We are not tied to grants or welfare. We are driven purely by commercial reality.”
Des' conversation is sprinkled with self-deprecating humour. By his own account he has been 'in the right place at the right time' quite a bit. However Black & White suspects that his success is a result of unrelenting hard work.
Rogers is a gentle, articulate man who mixes easily with captains of industry and ministers of government, despite his modest formal education.
Although he is a Collingwood supporter, Rogers is an immensely likable bloke with passion, acumen, and perseverance in abundance.
To let this talent go to waste would be criminal. And Des Rogers isn't like that.
|
|