Kulini: Framing Ethical Listening and Power-Sensitive Dialogue in Remote Aboriginal Education and Research

Indigenous people often complain that they aren’t being listened to, that researchers, institutions and policy makers aren’t taking them seriously or listening properly to their concerns (Donald, 2016). In response, researchers, politicians and interested ‘others’ make commitments to do a better job. The language of ‘better listening’ is framed in terms such as to ‘listen deeply’ (Kohn, 2016; Wallace & Lovell, 2009), or listen ‘truly’ (Snowden, 2017), and in some cases, notions of ‘listening’ as opposed to ‘hearing’ as an act of good faith in responding to Indigenous peoples’ concerns is argued (Davis, 2016). As an ‘outsider’ working in Indigenous research, it is a primary concern to respectfully engage with, interpret, and ultimately, represent the voices and concerns of Indigenous people as ethically and truthfully as possible within a broader understanding of the limitations on us to do so well, if at all. In reality, this is a precarious negotiation at the best of times and requires careful ethical/methodological consideration to better represent claims that research is ultimately beneficial to participants and the communities they represent. This paper adopts the Pitjantjatjara language term ‘kulini’ (listen to, hear) to mark out the terms of ‘ethical listening’ at the cultural interface (Nakata, 2007a) through an Aboriginal language lens. Ethical responsibilities for initiating dialogue towards action is then developed as a model based on Delpit’s (1993) framing of ethical listening and action in educating ‘other people’s children’. Working from the kulini frame provides methodological cues that can orient research towards justice and more just possibilities. Introduction Indigenous people across the globe are frustrated that they aren’t being listened to, that researchers, institutions and policy makers aren’t listening or responding to their concerns (Donald, 2016). Commitments to listen beyond cursory, power-laden interactions are described in terms such as ‘better listening’ or to ‘listen deeply’ (Kohn, 2016; UngunmerrBaumann, 2002; Wallace & Lovell, 2009), or to listen ‘truly’ (Snowden, 2017). Some have debated the importance of ‘hearing’ as an ethical commitment beyond merely listening in responding to Indigenous peoples’ concerns (Davis, 2016). This paper presents methodological questions that arose in the course of my doctoral thesis (Osborne, 2016) where I endeavoured to privilege Anangu (Pitjantjatjara, Yankunytjatjara, Ngaatjatjarra and Ngaanyatjarra) voices in education dialogue across communities in the tristate area of remote Central Australia (the region where the states of South Australia, Western 27 Learning Communities | Special Issue: Decolonising Research Practices | Number 22 – December 2017 Australia and the Northern Territory meet). Globally, Indigenous scholars have repeatedly raised concerns regarding colonialist approaches to Indigenous research that ultimately diminish, even silence Indigenous voices, knowledges and aspirations (Bishop, 2011; Nakata, 2007b; Rigney, 1999; Sarra, 2011; Smith, 1999; Wilson & Yellow Bird, 2005) leading to ethical questions of research and justice. Others question whether power-laden methodologies are at all reliable in working towards any sense of ‘truth’ (Haraway, 2004; Harding, 1992). I have previously highlighted issues with outsider researchers’ attempts to ‘listen’ and ‘hear’ across points of power, epistemological and language difference in remote Aboriginal communities (Osborne, 2013, 2014, 2015a; Osborne & Guenther, 2013). In this paper, I propose working from the Pitjantjatjara language term ‘kulini’ (listen/hear) to frame a more culturally and contextually responsive (Guenther, 2015; Perso, 2012) methodological approach. In doing so, research must take account of the epistemological, ontological, axiological and cosmological contexts of the voices that are attempting to be heard. I then propose a model for informing institutional commitments to power-sensitive dialogue and ultimately, approaches to positioning research towards ‘more-just’ (Brennan & Zipin, 2008) possibilities.


Introduction
Indigenous people across the globe are frustrated that they aren't being listened to, that researchers, institutions and policy makers aren't listening or responding to their concerns (Donald, 2016).Commitments to listen beyond cursory, power-laden interactions are described in terms such as 'better listening' or to 'listen deeply' (Kohn, 2016;Ungunmerr-Baumann, 2002;Wallace & Lovell, 2009), or to listen 'truly' (Snowden, 2017).Some have debated the importance of 'hearing' as an ethical commitment beyond merely listening in responding to Indigenous peoples' concerns (Davis, 2016).This paper presents methodological questions that arose in the course of my doctoral thesis (Osborne, 2016) where I endeavoured to privilege Anangu (Pitjantjatjara, Yankunytjatjara, Ngaatjatjarra and Ngaanyatjarra) voices in education dialogue across communities in the tristate area of remote Central Australia (the region where the states of South Australia, Western Australia and the Northern Territory meet).Globally, Indigenous scholars have repeatedly raised concerns regarding colonialist approaches to Indigenous research that ultimately diminish, even silence Indigenous voices, knowledges and aspirations (Bishop, 2011;Nakata, 2007b;Rigney, 1999;Sarra, 2011;Smith, 1999;Wilson & Yellow Bird, 2005) leading to ethical questions of research and justice.Others question whether power-laden methodologies are at all reliable in working towards any sense of 'truth' (Haraway, 2004;Harding, 1992).
I have previously highlighted issues with outsider researchers' attempts to 'listen' and 'hear' across points of power, epistemological and language difference in remote Aboriginal communities (Osborne, 2013(Osborne, , 2014(Osborne, , 2015a;;Osborne & Guenther, 2013).In this paper, I propose working from the Pitjantjatjara language term 'kulini' (listen/hear) to frame a more culturally and contextually responsive (Guenther, 2015;Perso, 2012) methodological approach.In doing so, research must take account of the epistemological, ontological, axiological and cosmological contexts of the voices that are attempting to be heard.I then propose a model for informing institutional commitments to power-sensitive dialogue and ultimately, approaches to positioning research towards 'more-just' (Brennan & Zipin, 2008) possibilities.

Literature Review
Over the last few decades, Indigenous scholars have railed against colonial approaches to Indigenous research where (typically non-Indigenous) researchers and the institutions they represent tend to objectify Indigenous peoples, framing them within deficit assumptions and narratives (Bishop, 2011;Nakata, 2007b;Rigney, 1999;Smith, 1999;Wilson & Yellow Bird, 2005).'Outsider' (Martin, 2006) researchers are urged to be respectful of Indigenous communities (Martin, 2006;Nakata, 2007b), their histories, values and epistemologies (Arbon, 2008;Smith, 1999), and to prioritise Indigenous methodologies for knowledge sharing (Ford, 2005;Lee, 2005;Moreton-Robinson, 1998;Yunkaporta & McGinty, 2009) in the research process.These are vital considerations in framing research that seeks to address these continuing concerns and promotes research-informed actions that are responsive to the culture, context and aspirations of Indigenous peoples.
The indignity and injustice of minority communities being framed as lesser objects in research is challenged by critical race theorists (Ladson-Billings, 1999;Milner, 2008), academics focused on addressing inequity in education (Comber & Kamler, 2004;Delpit, 1993;Moll, Amanti, Neff, & Gonzalez, 1992), and Indigenous scholars (Moreton-Robinson, 1998;Sarra, 2011;Smith, 1999).In Australia, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander scholars have argued the value of Indigenous standpoint theory in repositioning the cultural and knowledge foundations that inform research and knowledge production processes in Indigenous communities (Foley, 2003;Moreton-Robinson, 2013;Nakata, 1998Nakata, , 2007a)).This builds on the work of feminist scholars who began to challenge notions of science and scientific truths as being somehow neutral and incontestable through articulating and working from knowledges and lived realities generated outside the locus of institutional power which tended to be the domain of powerful white men (Haraway, 1988;Harding, 1992).
It is not enough to merely include Indigenous voices as participants within a methodological approach that ignores issues of power, gender, culture, history, values, language and epistemology.Respectful dialogue is a process of negotiated dialogue where power is shared.Liberman (1980) explains that: Conversation is a negotiation -one finds one's bearings by taking a reading of where the other person might be.Each party addresses himself [sic.] to the position, expectations, language, and "world" of the other in order to find a mode of discourse in which both parties can communicate competently.(p.67) In the ambiguity of conversation across points of power, language and epistemological difference, Liberman (1980) contends that Indigenous people adopt a conversational tool he terms '[g]ratuitous concurrence…a common strategy of oppressed peoples' (p.74), which 'is a structural feature designed to encourage the development of the conversation or [is] included to reduce the risk which any party might fear ' (p. 74).This suggests that people may simply answer 'yes', or attempt to mirror their understanding of what the other person is asserting as a strategy for showing respect or avoiding conflict or confusion in conversation.This can be a strategy utilised in research dialogue between outsider researchers and Indigenous participants but suggests some sense of agency on the part of Indigenous participants despite the apparent power inequities constructed within the frame of research dialogue.Liberman (1980) goes on to explain that 'Aboriginal people find it a useful device to keep the European-Australians happy so that they will go away quickly without causing the Aboriginals [sic] any difficulty ' (pp. 74-75).Cowlishaw (1998) describes the institutionalised abuse of Aboriginal voices during the historical period referred to as 'self-determination' following the 1967 referendum -the era of remote communities being established and land rights.She describes an era of 'ventriloquism', where: Government officials, pastoral advisers and accountants acted as ventriloquists in relaying to each other and to their superior officers the views and wishes of 'the community', which in fact originated in their own minds and were formulated in their own style.(p.153) Research methodologies are needed that can free research dialogue from an epistemological frame that is distant from the logic and language of the location of the research (Guenther, Osborne, Arnott, & McRae-Williams, 2015;Osborne, 2013Osborne, , 2014) ) and silences Indigenous voices in Indigenous research dialogue.Indigenous scholars such as Nakata (2007) and Smith (1999) argue that 'outsider' accounts of Indigenous peoples have historically been privileged over Indigenous peoples' accounts of their own lives, ignoring the epistemological, cultural and language context of communities, their knowledge and histories.This is one of the key motivators for Indigenous scholars advocating narratives as a more appropriate method of engaging with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities (Fisher, 1985;Ford, 2010;Lee, 2005;Yunkaporta & McGinty, 2009).Smith (1999) draws attention to the centrality of narratives within Indigenous communities where: Intrinsic in story telling is a focus on dialogue and conversations amongst ourselves as Indigenous people, to ourselves and for ourselves.Such approaches fit well with oral traditions which are still a reality in day-to-day lives.(p.145) Indigenous scholars have advocated a range of approaches to reposition Aboriginal voices and values as central to knowledge production in research, ranging from 'Indigenist' research methodologies (Rigney, 1999) where research is conducted by Indigenous researchers, a more nuanced approach to knowledge production and decolonising pedagogies at the cultural interface (Nakata, 2007a;Nakata, Nakata, Keech, & Bolt, 2012), and the incorporation of Indigenous methodologies for the sharing and production of knowledge, in particular, the use of narratives as central to this process (Fisher, 1985;Ford, 2005;Lee, 2005;Yunkaporta & McGinty, 2009).
These ethical and methodological issues require reflection on the researcher's own position and representations including gender, race, epistemological orientations, power and institutional representations, and also regarding how methodologies might work to amplify Indigenous voices rather than diminish them in the research process (Guenther et al., 2015).In the following section I describe my position and methodological considerations for privileging Anangu voices in in the process of producing my Doctoral thesis.

My position
Much of my work as an educator and researcher in Aboriginal communities has occurred in Anangu (Pitjantjatjara) communities.In this context, I would describe myself as a non-Anangu 'outsider' researcher with elements of insider access in Anangu community contexts through relationships, Pitjantjatjara language skills, significant time spent in Anangu communities, and family connections.In 'Families as foundation' (Osborne, 2015a), I have more fully discussed my position including the risks and opportunities these 'entanglements' (Adams, 2015) of relationships and family present in undertaking research in Anangu communities.In essence, being 'known' in Anangu communities and having a strong Pitjantjatjara language background offers expedience in terms of establishing relationships and getting research underway.These conditions, however, place a double burden of ethical responsibility on me in a researcher role to ensure, as best as possible, that participation in research is an experience that leaves participants feeling positive but also benefits participants, their family and community.Anangu scholar Simone Tur (Tur, Blanch, & Wilson, 2010) explains that in Anangu communities, relationships are set within a frame of reciprocal obligations (ngapartji ngapartji), which operate across professional and personal boundaries.These conditions compel me in my role as a researcher and educator to carefully consider the impact -positive or negativemy professional actions have on participants and communities as these relationships exist beyond the life of a research project timeline and are continued outside the domain and scope of the research project.

Privileging Anangu voices
This paper draws on findings and ethical/methodological considerations discussed in my Doctoral thesis (Osborne, 2016).Beyond a desire for the research not to cause harm or leave participants feeling diminished, it was a stated aim to privilege Anangu voices in the research.As a sole outsider researcher, I aimed to adopt a methodological approach that allowed participants to speak on their own terms, drawing on their own experiences, epistemologies and language to discuss young people, education and the future.Interviews were held in first language (largely Pitjantjatjara or Yankunytjatjara, although some participants preferred the use of English language at times) with relatively few interruptions to avoid channeling interviews towards dialogue constrained by gratuitous concurrence (Liberman, 1980).Asking participants to speak on their own terms, and in their own language with relatively few interruptions allowed the unfolding dialogue to emerge on Anangu terms.I then asked participants to suggest Piranpa (non-Anangu) educators to interview -educators who have been ethical and committed in working respectfully with Anangu, taking account of community standpoints in their professional teaching role.I then located these educators and asked them to reflect on their role as educators in an Anangu context, with particular emphasis on taking account of Anangu narratives that had been recorded and describing their work in taking account of Anangu standpoints as educators in an Anangu context.
In my own experience as an educator and school Principal in Anangu communities, education conversations tend to be ordered by the policies and requirements of the system, and the demands of managing complex and very busy schools, so that even with strong community relationships and a good grasp of Pitjantjatjara language, education conversations with Anangu were highly constrained.Issues of student attendance, managing student behaviour, dealing with community issues and family concerns, and staffing matters were examples among a myriad of other pragmatic and pressing concerns.Undertaking a Doctoral thesis enabled me to consider how I might reposition power-laden education dialogue to be responsive to the voices, epistemologies and aspirations of Anangu.In this sense, I joined the que of educators and researchers wishing to 'listen' and 'truly hear' the voices of Aboriginal people.
I worked with eight Anangu participants and asked them to talk to me about their perspectives on young people, education and the future.Some of these interviews involved preparatory conversations and then a single interview and others took place across multiple interviews spanning a time period of nearly two years.These interviews were not ordered or channeled by sub-questions, encouraging a narrative approach to knowledge sharing.At various points I joined the conversation by way of asking a clarifying question or connecting the narrative to relevant themes before stepping back once again to allow the narrator to position the narrative as they wished.
As part of my commitment to the principles of ngapartji ngapartji (reciprocal obligation, see Tur et al., 2010), I committed to producing bilingual transcripts of the narratives each of the eight Anangu participants shared.In some cases, this took months as multiple interviews were conducted over a two-year period, and I attempted to refrain from interrupting participants for my own clarification.I wanted people to tell their own stories on their own terms.Some of the narratives involved historical recounts or childhood memories that occurred across tracts of country and spoke of place names seldom visited today.On many occasions, language or stories were shared that were difficult to understand.Pouring over the transcripts for context, further research and revisiting the stories with participants at a later interview allowed for a fuller understanding.These bilingual transcripts have been given back to the participants as resources to share with their families and communities as determined by participants themselves.Edited and collated translations are provided within the thesis (Chapters 5-9, Osborne, 2016) to fulfill my intention to privilege Anangu voices in power-sensitive (Haraway, 2004) education dialogue and to work from Indigenous standpoints (Foley, 2003;Moreton-Robinson, 2013;Nakata, 1998).Narratives were edited to remove sections that were particularly personal, culturally sensitive, or where participants requested changes to be made on reviewing the transcripts.
From a personal perspective, the process of producing bilingual transcripts was labour-intensive and perhaps unnecessary in terms of fulfilling the minimum requirements of completing a Doctoral thesis in an Australian university.This process, however, was important in two ways: Firstly, this fulfilled part of my ethical commitments to privileging Anangu voices in the dialogue and producing bilingual resources to gift back to the narrators, and secondly, it forced me to wrestle with the depths and nuance of Pitjantjatjara language that can be brushed aside or glossed over in the course of conversation.Bourdieu (1999) describes the loss of meaning that occurs in dislocating narratives from their original context of body, language, tonality and emphasis in the transcription process.This is particularly true in cultures where the art of storytelling is embedded with narrative features and coded meaning not easily brought to paper.Some of these features, such as pulmonic ingressive phonation, repeated serial verb sequences and vowel elongation found in Pitjantjatjara narrative techniques are discussed in Chapter Three of the thesis (Osborne, 2016).The process of then translating into English from a language rooted in 'other' philosophies, values and epistemologies provides deeply ethical and creative challenges to accurately, or at least broadly, represent the original meaning and philosophical context of the first language (Jaivin, 2014).
Listening to the narratives, sometimes a phrase at a time, over and over in an attempt to represent the original 'narrative-meaning' as best I could in English allowed me to come to a deeper appreciation of key Pitjantjatjara language concepts that English language has significant limitations in coming to terms with, let alone expressing.In particular, the concept of kulini (listening/hearing) lacks cohesion of shared meaning.Examining the context of listening (and the nominalised form 'kulintja') from a Pitjantjatjara language perspective is useful for understanding Indigenous peoples' frustrations at not being 'listened to', but also in framing richer methodological approaches for ethical and culturally/contextually responsive listening in Anangu communities.Later, I present a visual model arguing the need for educators, researchers, and institutions to put ethical listening into action; to be responsive to the voices, aspirations and demands of Anangu in Anangu education.

Kulini -'listening' through a Pitjantjatjara language lens
The concept of 'listening' is a well-established societal expectation on those with political or institutional power with responsibility to act on behalf of those with less power.One such example is an admission of error by an institution by saying 'we're listening' which could well be translated as a statement of commitment to remedial action.According to the Oxford dictionary (2017a), the definition of listen (or listening) is to 'Give one's attention to a sound'.There are some minor variations suggested as alternative definitions, but essentially the scope of definition for the term 'listen/listening' is similar.Understandably, those in the business of learning to 'listen' across points of power, language, epistemological and philosophical difference seek other terms such as 'hear/hearing' (Davis, 2016), 'deep listening' (Kohn, 2016;Wallace & Lovell, 2009) and 'truly hearing' (Snowden, 2017) to make sense of what moreethical listening might look like.
The definition of 'hear', or 'hearing' (Oxford Dictionary, 2017b) provides little more scope or flexibility than the term listen -indeed, at certain points the terms are interchangeable.Both of these terms do little to challenge the frame through which voices, or 'sound' is being filtered or interpreted.This is where Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander voices claiming that they are not being listened to (Davis, 2016;Donald, 2016;Kohn, 2016) are both right and wrong.They are wrong in the sense that someone may well have 'listened' or 'heard' by definition.They are right, however, in that there is an implied expectation that 'listening' might include other things such as honesty, goodwill, being prepared to act on concerns, and stepping across points of difference.This is where the Pitjantjatjara language term kulini (listen/listening) can be a useful frame for redefining what ethical listening across points of difference might look like.
According to the Pitjantjatjara/Yankunytjatjara dictionary (Goddard, 1996), the term kulini has nine meanings: These meanings immediately provide far greater depth and direction to those wishing to 'truly hear' or 'listen deeply'.Framing 'listening' through the lens of kulini, listening is an aural process.Listening is corporeal.Listening engages the intellect and draws on experiences and memory.Listening is also a process of engaging epistemologies (knowing) and cosmologies (premonition) that 'outsider listeners' may be completely unaware of.
From interview data generated within the thesis, the depth and power of the term kulini in its nominalised (noun) form kulintja became a point of focus and further reflection.The Pitjantjatjara dictionary does not record definitions for kulintja, but based on the use of the term throughout some 130,000 words of interview transcripts, I have summarised some utilisations of the term: 1. Thought, idea 2. Conceptual framework (an understanding) 3. Epistemology -knowledge system, collective way of knowing (eg.Anangungku kulintja), world view 4. Self-concept, mental wellbeing (e.g.kulintja pulka -[lit.heavy thought] is a term used to indicate stress or mental health issues -or kulintja wiru [lit.good thought] perhaps similar to positive thinking or disposition/psychology)

Decision, determination
This list is not exhaustive, as the term, like other Pitjantjatjara terms is malleable and adaptive, making context and tone of voice, among other things important in coming to terms with definition.The terms kulini and kulintja engage a depth of meaning including points of Anangu epistemology, ontology, axiology and cosmology that Indigenous scholars have argued are essential terms of reference for ethical research in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities (Nakata, 2007b;Rigney & Hemming, 2014;Rigney, 1999;Sarra, 2011;Smith, 1999;Wilson & Yellow Bird, 2005).

Painful listening
It is difficult for 'outsider' researchers, educators and institutions, anchored as they are in their own epistemological, ontological and axiological foundations, assumptions and experiences of the world to come to terms with the needs and context of what Delpit (1993) calls 'other people'.Delpit (1993) Delpit (1993) argues for a process of critical self-awareness and listening that hurts to 'unsilence' power-laden dialogue.This positioning is vital for researchers located within the 'culture of power' who engage with 'other' communities in research, but also within the context of Delpit's original focus, education.
From listening to action in Anangu Education Delpit (1993)  ).Minutjukur explains that, 'As Anangu, we have our own power that we wish to retain and this power is to be carried forward in the pursuit of the power that education offers' (Minutjukur & Osborne, 2014, p.19).
Institutions, and those with power in the institutions such as educators, researchers and government representatives, must pursue a process of listening that leads to action, if dialogue is to be mobilised towards justice in the fields of education research and policy making.Delpit (1993, p. 139) argues that 'it is those with the most power … who must take the greater responsibility for initiating the process' of moving from ethical listening to justice-oriented action.
In the course of my research, I have developed a framework for negotiating dialogue (kulini) across power differences in Anangu education.Delpit's notion, that greater ethical responsibility for 'listening' and initiating dialogue lies with those with the most power, is developed in a visual model for ethical listening and action in Anangu education spaces.This model (see Figure 1) maps where capacity, power and responsibility lies for informing and taking ethical action within the context of Anangu Education dialogue.
Currently, the institutions of government hold the most power for deciding what is to be taught, how it should be taught and what a remote education is for, but tend to hold others responsible for the perceived failure, or powerlessness of their own programs (see Abbott, 2015;Forrest, 2014).Under the model of ethical listening and action (shown below at Figure 1), venues should be explored for Anangu to speak on their own terms; that is, for powersensitive dialogue (Haraway, 2004).Institutions need to act by stepping back and supporting the aspirations of communities.
Privileging Indigenous voices, epistemologies and scholarship in Indigenous research addresses, in some way, historical and continuing unequal power relationships.In Anangu community contexts, research must be undertaken with community voices and epistemologies as central to the work, because without engaging the depth and principles of kulini, it is impossible to get at any truth.Piranpa (non-Anangu) educators enact power on a daily basis in the curricular and pedagogical decisions they make in deciding what the children of 'others' need from an education.Involving the children's family, the local community, and making room for local language, stories and story tellers values the community assets (Moll et al., 1992;Zipin, 2013) of family, identity, language and knowledges and brings both relevance and a sense of belonging to the classroom that cannot be endowed by 'outsider' educators.
Anangu need to seek venues for dialogue across the various standpoints (Nakata, 2007b), between and amongst Anangu, engaging with other Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander standpoints, with educators and researchers, and with the institutions.It is up to institutions, those with the most power, to 'listen' and support community demands and aspirations by resourcing them.In practical terms, I argue that this is best achieved by taking a regional approach to structuring ethical listening and justice-oriented action in Anangu education.This means bringing Anangu educators, Indigenous scholars and institutional leaders together with the resources made available to enable Anangu-directed actions.While there is some movement towards structures for regional collaboration, there is more to be done in centring Anangu voices in shaping the nature of Anangu Education.The Commonwealth Government is best placed to create a venue for this type of dialogue as the region works across three state and territory jurisdictions.It is time that education and research in very remote central Australian Anangu communities leaves a colonial, power-laden approach to research and education behind.

Conclusion
Globally, Indigenous communities, leaders and scholars continue to argue that engagement with institutions of power and their representatives, including researchers, leaves them feeling that they are not being listened to; that their treatment is unjust and their true voices are being denied.The Pitjantjatjara language term kulini (listen/hear) requires 'listeners' to engage in an exchange of words, feelings, beliefs and knowledges.Using the kulini frame as a methodological cue, 'outsider' researchers must engage outside of their own epistemological frame and the logic and assumptions of the institutions they represent to move towards 'morejust' (Brennan & Zipin, 2008) research-informed actions.Delpit's (1993) assertion that those with the most power have the greatest responsibility for initiating the dialogue-to-action process provides a useful model for ethical listening and power-sensitive dialogue.
Pursuing patient and power sensitive dialogue in remote education takes time and requires a different ethical/methodological approach to what we largely see in remote education policy and practice.But engaging the principles of kulini as a frame for ethical listening across points of difference in terms of power, epistemology, ontology and cosmology is worth pursuing because for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander young people in remote communities, the future depends on it.
Have a premonition from a sensation in the body

Figure 1 :
Figure 1: Power and ethical responsibility for listening action: appling the Delpit model to Anangu Education describes the process of ethical 'listening' across points of epistemological and ontological difference as 'painful', explaining that: argues that in schools where (frequently) non-local teachers are tasked with the responsibility of educating 'other people's children',