“I want to start by acknowledging that I'm here on Dharawal country today”, Kirli Saunders tells me when I interview her – remotely, because it’s 2022.

“It's a rainy day,” she says, “and I found a feather when I went for my walk. So I'm feeling very lucky.”

Kirli is lucky. But she’s also driven, and creative, and fuelled by purpose. And that goes a long way to explaining how this young, proud, Gunai woman has achieved so much in her career thus far. She’s an award winning author, and across multiple genres from poetry to children’s books. She’s published three books so far, with another two set for release just this year alone. She’s currently knee deep in the writing process, this time for a play (overachiever, much!) and is also an artist, education consultant, speaker, and advocate.

When I ask Kirli if she ever feels pressure to pick a lane, she admits she has. “But I can't really stay in just one. I'm not very good at it. I've been doing a lot of reading and researching lately, and understanding how our values and purpose shape the way that we move in the world. And how it applies to all of the roles we occupy - you know, being a daughter, a sister, business owner, a creative, an artist, a role model. So I’ve been asking myself ‘how can purpose spread across all of those responsibilities?’”

True to form, not only has Kirli found an answer, she’s created a manifesto. “My purpose is to create in order to provoke change for a just world. And so that applies to everything, to all of the roles. This way I don't have to pick a lane, I can just be creating. I find it freeing that my work changes so much. I'm out on diversity, equity and inclusion facilitation or consultation one day, then working as an artist or a writer or an actor or providing a voiceover the next. All of these offerings sit inside my purpose. I’m creating, provoking, and we’re cultivating justice for Mother Earth and community.”

Let’s take a look at Kirli’s world...

You’re a prolific creator, so tell me about your relationship with ambition. What drives you to create so much?

I think when it comes to creating things, there's a real fire in me. A fire in the belly and a real joy that is evoked when I do sit down and create, so ambition plays into it, but I really feel like it’s a real love and joy that sit underneath ambition and that comes from flow. 

Often when I'm writing, I'm writing about things that really matter to me, or writing about things that I really care about. I’m also writing so other people feel seen, heard or understood. And purpose is also in the mix too. If I'm creating for a just world, well then I'm creating for change, and that feels powerful and important. I find these to be more motivating than ambition. 

When I first started writing, I met with a publisher who said I couldn't publish ten books before I was 30. And as someone who's played a lot of sport and was used to competition, that was a really potent driver. 

I also had a teacher who told me that I wouldn't amount to much, when I was a kid. 

I feel like both of those things were external measures that gave me a bit of impetus or ambition. Ultimately though, the internal metre, the internal purpose and the want to contribute is the most profound driver, and when I switch from the external to the internal something magic happens within me.

You hate the word ‘diversity’. Why?

Diversity is a word that's used to refer to difference. And it's often used within strategies and policies in organisations. I don't think diversity speaks to the global majority. It’s a word that indicates othering, and our world doesn’t need more of that. 

For context, the global majority is a collective term that refers to Black, African, Asian, Brown, Dual-Heritage or Indigenous people and people of the global south who have been racialised as ethnic minorities. The reality is that these communities (that I’m part of) form 80% of the world’s population, and will continue to. 

Phrases like diversity, or references to people of colour, centre whiteness and imply that white people form the majority of people on the planet. This isn’t true, though they do hold the majority of power and privilege.

For me, acknowledging these realities and looking to centre humanness and cultivating spaces of belonging and dignity and justice is key. Those three words come out of a movement created by Decolonise Design. And they're also words that I use when I'm leading inclusivity facilitation projects with a company called Starling. 

So I just want to honour both of those collectives in helping shift the narrative around diversity in the workplace. 

Amongst your many talents, you work in education and I’m really interested to hear about your perspective because so often what we learn in the education system is through the lens of white men, and the colonial system. So as a queer, Indigenous woman, what does it mean to be able to take ownership of your stories?

I was originally a teacher. I studied my Bachelor of Primary Education (Honours) at University of Wollongong and then was working with the Department of Education for five years before leading education and cultural projects at Red Room poetry, across a range of classrooms and in juvenile justice spaces. I now consult the educational sector. 

I agree, it’s problematic. It’s a system that has historically excluded us and our voices. It’s shaped on an education system that belongs to the country that colonised us. Inherently, colonisation continues today through institutions like schools. 

I believe it can be shifted, by embedding Indigenous perspectives in the classroom, by engaging with First Nations communities, and by providing paid employment and retention pathways for First Nations educators and educational support staff in schools, and particularly in school leadership and management roles.

It could also be shifted by examining at a government and policy level, the punitive nature of education and justice systems, and how that dehumanisation plays out with regards to racism. For example, the age of criminal responsibility in many Australian states is 10, and the majority of kids incarcerated are Aboriginal. Youth incarceration and later adult incarceration are correlated, and being imprisoned leads to greater impoverishment and poorer health, education and employment opportunities. 

Cycles like this are born in systems that diminish humanity, and historically in Australia, we see the first signs of this in colonisation (which as I mentioned is a current thing, it’s ongoing and continuous). 

As a Gunai woman, and a queer woman, being a teacher and therefore a role model, being a consultant and writer means I get to shift the narrative that plays out around our people, our communities and our kids by having conversations like this. I get to inform decisions and alter actions on the ground and support leaders in making classrooms and schools safer for our kids.

The power of sisterhood is something that we talk about a lot at AllBright. And I love the way one of your aunties described what women’s intuition is – can you tell me about that?

I love this question. I think intuition is that belly knowing. I was told it's the oldest, wisest part of us, and it's something that we as women often forget to listen to. We’re taught away from it. I think the example of Grace Tame not smiling in a photo recently is very indicative of her being in alignment with her intuition. She’s not shying away from what she knows in her body, in her mind and in her heart. 

I think we should all be doing that same thing, being in alignment with what we truly feel, so we can act towards that alignment and be more full of versions of ourselves in the world. 

I often get asked, ‘How do we know when intuition shows up? How do we listen to it?’ And I think anytime you get that that red flag, the butterflies, the voice that just knows something about this isn't right, or I need to do this differently, or the internal compass that is lit up and says yeah, I want to be led towards that, that feels good – that’s intuition. And paying attention to these moments and then acting towards what it wants reaffirms and strengthens intuition. 

Then you’re led more and more everyday by it, and living in alignment with intuition is a beautiful way to live and it encourages others to do so too. 

One thing we are really passionate about here at AllBright is the importance of mentorship. You actually reached out to one of your heroes, the illustrator Shaun Tan, when you were just 19, and you sent him the manuscript for your first children’s book. What gave you the courage to do that, and how was that received?

I’m a sucker for reaching out to a mentor that I want to have a relationship with. Shaun is someone I really admire, and so is Matt Ottley. I guess I just thought, why not? What's the worst that can happen? They'll just turn me down or they won't respond. 

So at 19, I sent a manuscript to Shaun Tan to get feedback. And he sent back a beautiful letter, it was really encouraging and something I’m truly thankful for. 

And then at 22, I sent my very first solid and finalised manuscript over to Matt Ottley (an award winning illustrator). I said “be my illustrator?” I was surprised and delighted when he wrote back that he loved the manuscript and sent it off to Scholastic. That book, The Incredible Freedom Machines, is now published in five languages with them.

I love sharing that story because it feels like a potent reminder that we can be anything that we dream of being, and what we desire isn't out of reach. It’s also a reminder to ask for help, and to know that help is available and around you. I think the people who see in you the things that you don't yet know in you are really profound, and Matt is one of those people for me. 

I feel so grateful for these big moments of affirmation on my journey.

The theme for International Women’s Day this year is Break The Bias and that’s something that you do every day through your work. As a child, you were asked to stand up in front of your class to show what an Aboriginal person looked like. What impact did those kinds of experiences have on your sense of who you were and how people viewed you?

I've spoken quite a lot about that experience of early racism in the classroom. And I think it's something that all Aboriginal kids experience even today in some way. And it's really crippling when it's in school because school is supposed to be a place of learning, safety, joy and opportunity. It definitely made me feel like I wasn't intelligent or capable. It made me feel that I was othered, when I stood apart from my peers, and it made me feel unsafe. I was really lucky that my mum took me out and changed schools. 

I went on to be at a local public school and my teachers were remarkable, kind and warm. They were very encouraging. And they made me want to be a teacher - both of them, the teacher who was awful, because I wanted to be better than her and make the world safer for little people, and then the teacher who I landed with, Mr. Milburn, because I wanted to be just like him.

This experience also gave me a ‘nobody puts baby a corner’ vibe that inspired me to not be limited by racism in my life. I still get it today. It’s everywhere, but it won’t stop me changing the system. 

How you look after yourself, what’s your favourite form of self-care?

My understanding of self care was recently changed and shifted when I worked with two powerhouse First Nations women, Dr. Lily Brown and Genevieve Grieves, who spoke into the elation and joy of being in work that gives to the community and that shifts systems of oppression. I agree with them, there is release and relief in doing work for purpose. 

I think it’s also important to share here that if you're constantly feeling exhausted by the way that you live your life, perhaps you're not living in alignment with your intuition, perhaps you're not living in alignment with your purpose.

I also want to flag that we're in a pandemic, war is around us, and as I write this, Pop’s Country is flooding. Climate change is real. The Eco grief is real. So there are a lot of things happening around us

I think self care fits within all of those realms. It sits inside that interconnected space of existing in chaos, and having a full enough cup to contribute to community. 

Self care is sticking to my routines, it’s honouring my mind, body and spirit. I do this by nourishing my body with lots of veggies and water  - I want to acknowledge that I live in a privileged community where I can access affordable vegetables and clean unfiltered tap water (this isn’t the case across all of Australia)!

I’m yoga teacher trained, so I have a solid self-practice, but I study with Bec Isaacs. She’s based on Bundjalung Country and she’s incredible. I meet with a really wonderful space holder Clare Foale who is a master of deep listening. 

I spend a lot of time in the ocean, surfing and swimming. I also spend time regularly on the phone and on Country with my family and community. 

Regardless of the medium, all of your work is a form of self-expression and fashion is another form of this. How do you express yourself through style?

I think style isn’t what you wear, its who’s wearing it. I love sustainable and regenerative ways of being, so my clothes are often thrifted, gifted or inherited. 

I love being outside and moving my body, so they’re also clothes to adventure in and clothes that mimic Country. 

I am also a lover of First Nations designers. My favourite First Nations designer is Julie Shaw of Maara collective. 

I loved the long sleeved black minidress from Seed which I paired with their black biker boots.

What does a work day look like for you?

My day tends to shift depending on the work I’m doing. All of my days start the same, I wake early-ish (I always get 8 hours so the alarm shifts according to when I fall asleep), I move my body with yoga, a walk, run or surf. I then eat some breaky, sip at my long black, and get to work.

I share a studio with David Cragg & Noni Cragg (Bundjalung siblings and incredible artists) and ally, Karla Hayes (artist & designer). I also work out of my home office or the local theatre if I’m writing. 

When I find flow I don’t like to get out of it, so my work hours are adjustable, but I tend to work until between 5 and 8. I try to move my body after work too, and get some yin or yoga nidra in before bed!

Do you ever suffer writer’s block, and what’s your remedy if so?

Writer’s block and I go way back. I’m working on a big commission at the moment that is embargoed, but will be at the Sydney Opera House in the middle of the year (keep your eyes peeled). I’ve been getting really stuck in the space of trying to articulate an idea that’s not fully formed. 

So I’ve been listening to podcasts of artists I admire like John O’Donohue (his On Being episode is lush), yarning with artists and writer friends. I’ve been sketching and I’ve also just been showing up to the page and writing. After I skim the surface, I start on a new page and write until I find the depth of what I’m reaching for. Then I’ll edit and refine.

I take breaks. I schedule time to write, and I give myself compassion, because nothing good ever came from self-loathing. 

I want to talk about social media because it gets a bad rap – and with good reason – but you actually shared your first poetry to Instagram. And it gave you a chance to put yourself out there a little bit. What’s your relationship with social media now?

I’ve met some wonderful people on social media who I might not have otherwise met and I feel grateful for that.  I do get a lot of value out of connecting to a like-minded community and following wiser people than me. My favourite platforms are Twitter and Instagram.

I will say that I waste my most valuable resource – time - by scrolling. So I’ve been setting a 15 minute time limit on my gram and scheduling content and I think it’s been really helping. 

You were named Aboriginal Woman of the Year in 2020, and you’ve also been the recipient of more literary awards than I can list. Have these accolades changed the way you are received, do you think? Have they opened doors?

I’m of course grateful for the recognition, and also for how these moments of recognition honour the contributions of the people who’ve raised, guided and supported me. Nothing happens in isolation. 

I'm also curious about this space of accolades and external validation. They were such drivers for me before I understood values and purpose. These awards have definitely opened doors, but they’re not a reason for starting or for continuing. 

People say to me ‘you burst onto the scene in 2019’ and I think, yes - my second book came out then, and for the decade before that I worked my butt off to cultivate everything that you see here now. So I just want to affirm people who are in the grinding stage, keep chasing that dream!

And I also want to affirm the people doing incredible things everyday who will never get an award for it. All the Mummas. The Aunties, The Grannies, The Sisters, all the survivors. All the lovers. All the friends. You matter. 

You matter. 

When you first started writing, a friend of yours told you to set a rejection goal, which is just such a great approach. So tell me what this is and how it’s helped you?

Shout out to Kristy Wan if you're reading, you are delightful and I appreciate you. We worked together at Red Room Poetry, and I was feeling a bit jaded with writing at the time. Kristy sat me down and said ‘girl, you need a rejection goal’. I set a goal of 20 rejections, and started entering my writing into every competition, and every journal. When I hit 20, I celebrated with dinner. 

It got me writing and submitting to publications. It improved my writing, because I had to continuously write, and submit something of quality, within deadlines and on particular themes. It also detached me from the outcome (which is something my yoga teacher Bec Isaacs encourages me to do - practice without attachment to the outcome). 

Welcoming rejection rather than running from it was transformative, I encourage you, if you're teetering on the precipice of a goal, to set yourself a rejection goal in addition to it. It just might take you closer towards it. 

And speaking of goals, you’re a big fan of them. What sort of goals are you working towards this year?

I’m releasing Returning (my visual poetry collection with Magabala). I’m also releasing a children’s picture book, Our Dreaming, with Dub Leffler (Scholastic). I’m writing my play and want to see it into the second stage of development. I’m taking acting lessons and am in a film and will be pursuing more acting and voice over experience. 

Finally Kirli why is it important for you to be a part of campaigns like this one, Seeds for Change?

I feel really grateful to be involved in Seeds for Change, to be having conversations like this and to be honouring the Black and Queer women who came before us, while laying down footstones for those who follow on from us.