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Black and Blue: A Memoir of Racism and Resilience
The story of an Aboriginal woman who worked as a police officer and fought for justice both within and beyond the Australian police force.
A proud Gunai/Kurnai woman, Veronica Gorrie grew up dauntless, full of cheek and a fierce sense of justice. After watching her friends and family suffer under a deeply compromised law-enforcement system, Gorrie signed up for training to become one of a rare few Aboriginal police officers in Australia. In her ten years in the force, she witnessed appalling institutional racism and sexism, and fought past those things to provide courageous and compassionate service to civilians in need, many Aboriginal themselves.
With a great gift for storytelling and a wicked sense of humour, Gorrie frankly and movingly explores the impact of racism on her family and her life, the impact of intergenerational trauma resulting from cultural dispossession, and the inevitable difficulties of making her way in the white- and male-dominated workplace of the police force.
Black and Blue is a memoir of remarkable fortitude and resilience, told with wit, wisdom, and great heart.
A proud Gunai/Kurnai woman, Veronica Gorrie grew up dauntless, full of cheek and a fierce sense of justice. After watching her friends and family suffer under a deeply compromised law-enforcement system, Gorrie signed up for training to become one of a rare few Aboriginal police officers in Australia. In her ten years in the force, she witnessed appalling institutional racism and sexism, and fought past those things to provide courageous and compassionate service to civilians in need, many Aboriginal themselves.
With a great gift for storytelling and a wicked sense of humour, Gorrie frankly and movingly explores the impact of racism on her family and her life, the impact of intergenerational trauma resulting from cultural dispossession, and the inevitable difficulties of making her way in the white- and male-dominated workplace of the police force.
Black and Blue is a memoir of remarkable fortitude and resilience, told with wit, wisdom, and great heart.
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First published November 2, 2021
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May 25, 20211.
When a marginalised person writes, it is not art.
When a marginalised person writes, it is ethnography.
When a marginalised person writes, it is “truth-telling.” It is “bearing witness.”
When a marginalised person writes, their writing is asked to bear a load it cannot see or witness: its invalidation as art.
Continue: https://insidestory.org.au/killing-th...
When a marginalised person writes, it is not art.
When a marginalised person writes, it is ethnography.
When a marginalised person writes, it is “truth-telling.” It is “bearing witness.”
When a marginalised person writes, their writing is asked to bear a load it cannot see or witness: its invalidation as art.
Continue: https://insidestory.org.au/killing-th...
September 19, 2021
‘I come from a long line of strong women.’
At the beginning of the book, at the end of her Author’s Note, Ms Gorrie writes:
‘Please be aware that this book contains material that readers may find confronting and disturbing, and that could cause sadness or distress, or trigger traumatic memories, especially for Aboriginal people, and those who have survived past abuse, violence, or childhood trauma.’
I thank Ms Gorrie for this warning: being forewarned enables a reader to proceed with caution into what is a confronting, important but uncomfortable read. The book is split into two parts. The first part deals with Ms Gorrie’s life before joining the Queensland Police Service, the second with her experience of ten years in the Queensland Police Service, and beyond.
This is a very personal story, of growing up in a society which (to my shame) makes judgements
about people based on colour and ethnicity often without considering culture, family ties and responsibilities. Some people sink beneath the burden of abuse and mistreatment, others will find a path through to achieve a more meaningful life for themselves, but all are scarred by their experiences.
In telling us her story, Ms Gorrie gives context. We learn about why, for example, her grandparents lived the way they did. We learn (or remember) the impact of alcohol abuse and violence on families.
‘When you are getting beaten, it does something to you. It takes away your self-esteem, your confidence, your self-respect and your self-worth. But more importantly, it takes away your voice.’
Disempowerment and abuse can become entrenched within family groups and across generations. Most of us will copy the behaviour of those responsible for our upbringing. Most, but not all. And this, for me, is one of the reasons why Ms Gorrie’s book is important.
‘I joined the police for many reasons: first, to see if I could get in, and more importantly, because I had seen the way the police mistreated my people and naively thought that if I joined, I would be able to stop this.’
Sadly, Ms Gorrie’s idealism is undermined by the reality she worked within. And injury forces retirement.
‘When I first joined the police, I had this idea that I could change the attitude of the Aboriginal community towards police. Little did I know I couldn’t do that until I changed the police attitude towards Aboriginal people.’
As I read this book, my admiration for Ms Gorrie increased. She tells a difficult story with humour and insight and in doing so provides hope for others.
‘The pain and suffering of the stolen generations is passed down from generation to generation. My grandmother lived this fear, my father experienced the fear, and I feared the experience.’
I would recommend this book to all Australians.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
At the beginning of the book, at the end of her Author’s Note, Ms Gorrie writes:
‘Please be aware that this book contains material that readers may find confronting and disturbing, and that could cause sadness or distress, or trigger traumatic memories, especially for Aboriginal people, and those who have survived past abuse, violence, or childhood trauma.’
I thank Ms Gorrie for this warning: being forewarned enables a reader to proceed with caution into what is a confronting, important but uncomfortable read. The book is split into two parts. The first part deals with Ms Gorrie’s life before joining the Queensland Police Service, the second with her experience of ten years in the Queensland Police Service, and beyond.
This is a very personal story, of growing up in a society which (to my shame) makes judgements
about people based on colour and ethnicity often without considering culture, family ties and responsibilities. Some people sink beneath the burden of abuse and mistreatment, others will find a path through to achieve a more meaningful life for themselves, but all are scarred by their experiences.
In telling us her story, Ms Gorrie gives context. We learn about why, for example, her grandparents lived the way they did. We learn (or remember) the impact of alcohol abuse and violence on families.
‘When you are getting beaten, it does something to you. It takes away your self-esteem, your confidence, your self-respect and your self-worth. But more importantly, it takes away your voice.’
Disempowerment and abuse can become entrenched within family groups and across generations. Most of us will copy the behaviour of those responsible for our upbringing. Most, but not all. And this, for me, is one of the reasons why Ms Gorrie’s book is important.
‘I joined the police for many reasons: first, to see if I could get in, and more importantly, because I had seen the way the police mistreated my people and naively thought that if I joined, I would be able to stop this.’
Sadly, Ms Gorrie’s idealism is undermined by the reality she worked within. And injury forces retirement.
‘When I first joined the police, I had this idea that I could change the attitude of the Aboriginal community towards police. Little did I know I couldn’t do that until I changed the police attitude towards Aboriginal people.’
As I read this book, my admiration for Ms Gorrie increased. She tells a difficult story with humour and insight and in doing so provides hope for others.
‘The pain and suffering of the stolen generations is passed down from generation to generation. My grandmother lived this fear, my father experienced the fear, and I feared the experience.’
I would recommend this book to all Australians.
Jennifer Cameron-Smith
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July 25, 2021Loved it. I read it in one sitting — couldn’t put it down. I thought of A.B. Facey as I read her astounding journey. What an incredible woman.
Melissa Lucashenko, Miles Franklin Award-winning author of Too Much Lip
The power of storytelling is to share the lives of people who change the world. Ronnie Gorrie’s journey as an Aboriginal woman shows the different levels of power in our country and is as radical as it is moving. A loving, affecting, and honest account of her life. Reading Ronnie’s words is like hearing the yarn of a friend.
Nakkiah Lui
A memoir full heart, humour and fire, from an author who’s always had a keen sense of justice.
Happy Magazine
Gorrie’s account of her time in the police force includes details of police misconduct that are rarely written about by former insiders … Rather than providing a systemic analysis, Gorrie tells her story as raw, unfiltered recollection.
Fernanda Dahlstrom, Kill Your Darlings
Every now and then, a story comes along that astonishes with its degree of truth, trauma and resilience. Veronica Gorrie’s memoir, Black and Blue, is one such, chronicling a life of inconceivable pain, abuse and discrimination … Her book should be mandatory reading material for all emerging and current cops … Women who have historically been silenced: now more than ever, we need to be reading their stories.
Jessie Tu, Sydney Morning Herald
[Veronica Gorrie] speaks about the institutionalised racism and sexism … from the perspective of an Aboriginal woman … [i]t's like you're having a yard with her.
Alice Skyes, singer-songwriter, The Sun-Herald
Melissa Lucashenko, Miles Franklin Award-winning author of Too Much Lip
The power of storytelling is to share the lives of people who change the world. Ronnie Gorrie’s journey as an Aboriginal woman shows the different levels of power in our country and is as radical as it is moving. A loving, affecting, and honest account of her life. Reading Ronnie’s words is like hearing the yarn of a friend.
Nakkiah Lui
A memoir full heart, humour and fire, from an author who’s always had a keen sense of justice.
Happy Magazine
Gorrie’s account of her time in the police force includes details of police misconduct that are rarely written about by former insiders … Rather than providing a systemic analysis, Gorrie tells her story as raw, unfiltered recollection.
Fernanda Dahlstrom, Kill Your Darlings
Every now and then, a story comes along that astonishes with its degree of truth, trauma and resilience. Veronica Gorrie’s memoir, Black and Blue, is one such, chronicling a life of inconceivable pain, abuse and discrimination … Her book should be mandatory reading material for all emerging and current cops … Women who have historically been silenced: now more than ever, we need to be reading their stories.
Jessie Tu, Sydney Morning Herald
[Veronica Gorrie] speaks about the institutionalised racism and sexism … from the perspective of an Aboriginal woman … [i]t's like you're having a yard with her.
Alice Skyes, singer-songwriter, The Sun-Herald
February 8, 2022
Veronica Gorrie certainly deserved the Victorian Premiers Award 2022 for Indigenous Writing. Her brutal and honest account of her dysfunctional family life leaves the reader both shocked by its horror and in awe of her resilience as she moved through its challenges. The impoverishment and instability, the violence and abuse, the abandonment and, particularly, the racism she endured, paint a raw portrait of life as an Indigenous female in contemporary Australian society.
However, I cannot understand how her book won the Literature Award, finding it in desperate need of an editor who could have helped Gorrie with often poor writing, a relentless list of incidents that often jumped from one to the other or returned to a time in the past without clear marking. The narrative read as if the author were conversing with the reader informally, which suited her intimate revelations in the first section (BLACK); but, that style became tedious in the second half of the book (BLUE), in which Gorrie detailed her frustrating and desperately unhappy years in the police force. She concludes that the force is no place for an Indigenous person because of its systemic racism and the injustices endured by the Aboriginal population at the hands of the police.
I have learned much from reading Gorrie's shocking account of both her personal and professional life. For this reason, the book was an important one, especially for non-Indigenous readers to confront. This was not a polished narrative by any means; but, I admire her honesty and willingness to reveal such intimate aspects of her life, hoping to "inspire just one person to write a book or even put pen to paper."
However, I cannot understand how her book won the Literature Award, finding it in desperate need of an editor who could have helped Gorrie with often poor writing, a relentless list of incidents that often jumped from one to the other or returned to a time in the past without clear marking. The narrative read as if the author were conversing with the reader informally, which suited her intimate revelations in the first section (BLACK); but, that style became tedious in the second half of the book (BLUE), in which Gorrie detailed her frustrating and desperately unhappy years in the police force. She concludes that the force is no place for an Indigenous person because of its systemic racism and the injustices endured by the Aboriginal population at the hands of the police.
I have learned much from reading Gorrie's shocking account of both her personal and professional life. For this reason, the book was an important one, especially for non-Indigenous readers to confront. This was not a polished narrative by any means; but, I admire her honesty and willingness to reveal such intimate aspects of her life, hoping to "inspire just one person to write a book or even put pen to paper."
August 3, 2022
Rating nonfiction can always be tricky, especially with memoirs, so this review will be purely on the book itself.
It just wasn't very good.
The book was almost completely without flow, uneven, with very few natural segues in between. The narration was awful - although the narrator did have a very pleasant voice, she sounded like she was giving a high school presentation. I also felt very uncomfortable in the second half (Blue), when she was sharing stories in intimate details of multiple cases she had attended - it seemed ethically questionable at the very least, and also, for the most part, added nothing to the story other than padding out the word count. At the end, I was listening at 1.8 speed, both because I couldn't bear the narration any longer, and because the book just wasn't what it was purported to be.
The blurb was better.
It just wasn't very good.
The book was almost completely without flow, uneven, with very few natural segues in between. The narration was awful - although the narrator did have a very pleasant voice, she sounded like she was giving a high school presentation. I also felt very uncomfortable in the second half (Blue), when she was sharing stories in intimate details of multiple cases she had attended - it seemed ethically questionable at the very least, and also, for the most part, added nothing to the story other than padding out the word count. At the end, I was listening at 1.8 speed, both because I couldn't bear the narration any longer, and because the book just wasn't what it was purported to be.
The blurb was better.
October 10, 2024
Veronica Gorrie's autobiography recounts not just the trauma and injustice she has faced as an Aboriginal woman, but also goes back to her grandparents and what they endured. The close ties of family, culture and community are threads that bind and strengthen. The chapters detailing her grandparents', parents' and her own life, up until she joined the Queensland Police force, are gruelling but also, the best part. This is what having a voice sounds like, and the telling of it bridges distance and silence.
I don't really know what to say about this book, or how to say it. When you read it, it feels like truth, even though the slippery nature of memory and the differences in culture create what seem like inconsistencies. This is a book that needs to be read in one go, or close to it. Otherwise you'll lose track of who's who and what's going on. Interestingly, almost no names are used (except for an Aunty).
The chapters about the 10 years she worked as a police officer are interesting but - and this feels awful to say - not as bad as I was expecting. I think my bar is set really low for Qld police. The racism she experiences and oberves is casual, which isn't at all better but is less intense than I was expecting.
I learnt a lot from reading this, but it also drove home just how different my life is and, if I'm representative of white Australia, drives home the importance of listening to Aboriginal Australians' diverse experiences in order to change some of our laws and practices. She lays out some of the cultural differences that can result in a higher recidivism rate for Aboriginal Australians through anecdotes of particular cases.
An important book that forms part of a larger, highly relevant discussion.
I don't really know what to say about this book, or how to say it. When you read it, it feels like truth, even though the slippery nature of memory and the differences in culture create what seem like inconsistencies. This is a book that needs to be read in one go, or close to it. Otherwise you'll lose track of who's who and what's going on. Interestingly, almost no names are used (except for an Aunty).
The chapters about the 10 years she worked as a police officer are interesting but - and this feels awful to say - not as bad as I was expecting. I think my bar is set really low for Qld police. The racism she experiences and oberves is casual, which isn't at all better but is less intense than I was expecting.
I learnt a lot from reading this, but it also drove home just how different my life is and, if I'm representative of white Australia, drives home the importance of listening to Aboriginal Australians' diverse experiences in order to change some of our laws and practices. She lays out some of the cultural differences that can result in a higher recidivism rate for Aboriginal Australians through anecdotes of particular cases.
An important book that forms part of a larger, highly relevant discussion.
March 4, 2023
What a missed opportunity!
Veronica Gorrie has an important and poignant story to tell – she grew up in a largely dysfunctional family and later in life she became one of the few female Aboriginal police officers in Australia. Throughout her life she dealt with a horrifying amount of trauma, later amplified by the racist treatment she experienced while working in the force.
However, Gorrie's editor has failed her. The book I've read feels largely like a first draft, not a finished product. The style of writing itself is fine, though definitely more conversational than polished. However, the structure of the book is all over the place – multiple anecdotes that are introduced have no extra bearing on the narrative. The narrator jumps back and forth in time without clearly marking this for the reader. Important storytelling arcs are dropped half-way through never to be picked up again. I could go on and on. The result is a disjointed collection of difficult-to-follow anecdotes.
A skilled editor would have been able to rearrange the order of the book – maybe make the author's time in the police force the main skeleton of the story and then introduce flashbacks to her personal experiences from her childhood as a commentary? A good editor would also help Gorrie flesh out the main themes of her story, instead of dropping it all together and mixing haphazardly.
It hurts to rate it so low, because I can absolutely see what a gem of a book it could have been with some extra work. However, in the current version, I cannot recommend it to other readers.
Veronica Gorrie has an important and poignant story to tell – she grew up in a largely dysfunctional family and later in life she became one of the few female Aboriginal police officers in Australia. Throughout her life she dealt with a horrifying amount of trauma, later amplified by the racist treatment she experienced while working in the force.
However, Gorrie's editor has failed her. The book I've read feels largely like a first draft, not a finished product. The style of writing itself is fine, though definitely more conversational than polished. However, the structure of the book is all over the place – multiple anecdotes that are introduced have no extra bearing on the narrative. The narrator jumps back and forth in time without clearly marking this for the reader. Important storytelling arcs are dropped half-way through never to be picked up again. I could go on and on. The result is a disjointed collection of difficult-to-follow anecdotes.
A skilled editor would have been able to rearrange the order of the book – maybe make the author's time in the police force the main skeleton of the story and then introduce flashbacks to her personal experiences from her childhood as a commentary? A good editor would also help Gorrie flesh out the main themes of her story, instead of dropping it all together and mixing haphazardly.
It hurts to rate it so low, because I can absolutely see what a gem of a book it could have been with some extra work. However, in the current version, I cannot recommend it to other readers.
August 22, 2021
Hard to rate
Enjoyment - 1 star (but that's the point)
Importance - 5 stars
Recognise my privilege in being in a good enough place to read this. Content warnings abound.
Grateful to the author for reliving trauma to educate people like me.
White people, we've got to do better.
Enjoyment - 1 star (but that's the point)
Importance - 5 stars
Recognise my privilege in being in a good enough place to read this. Content warnings abound.
Grateful to the author for reliving trauma to educate people like me.
White people, we've got to do better.
April 12, 2022
A powerful memoir that speaks volumes towards the current nature of the police system today in Australia. Through her storytelling, Gorrie makes it clear that in order to truly have justice for First Nations people in this country, we must change the disgustingly racist and sexist ideals entrenched within the police force today. Incredible piece and definitely recommend.
July 8, 2024
A really insightful and impactful read. It was my first memoir by an Australian Aboriginal person, and it was such an eye opened into their history and treatment, not from textbook but from lived experiences.
Although this memoir was so good, I do agree with some of the other reviews that the structural slightly let the book down. I would've liked the book to open with Gorrie working as a police woman, and then have her past revealed in a flashback to create a more cohesion link between her two life parts. I think more chapters, or subchapters would've created more structure to her story, with anecdotes linked to a common theme/idea to each subchapter. Similarly, time seemed to pass unevenly, and I found her discussion to leave school and start a family felt quite quick and a bit jarring.
However, with that all said, it was still such an impactful and eye-opening story. I'm so glad I read it and would encourage everyone to listen to this audiobook / read this memoir
Although this memoir was so good, I do agree with some of the other reviews that the structural slightly let the book down. I would've liked the book to open with Gorrie working as a police woman, and then have her past revealed in a flashback to create a more cohesion link between her two life parts. I think more chapters, or subchapters would've created more structure to her story, with anecdotes linked to a common theme/idea to each subchapter. Similarly, time seemed to pass unevenly, and I found her discussion to leave school and start a family felt quite quick and a bit jarring.
However, with that all said, it was still such an impactful and eye-opening story. I'm so glad I read it and would encourage everyone to listen to this audiobook / read this memoir
July 21, 2022
Confronting, gruelling, exhausting, and maybe hopeful?
A memoir that reveals crushingly painful experiences in a narrative style that is sometimes disturbingly conversational. Letting the experience sit with the reader for them to witness and try to comprehend.
It just seems like a book that will expand your understanding of (at least) one persons experience of being indigenous in Australia, and her not loosing the hope to try to generate change for the better.
A memoir that reveals crushingly painful experiences in a narrative style that is sometimes disturbingly conversational. Letting the experience sit with the reader for them to witness and try to comprehend.
It just seems like a book that will expand your understanding of (at least) one persons experience of being indigenous in Australia, and her not loosing the hope to try to generate change for the better.
April 4, 2024
so bloody grateful to read this. very important and insightful.
October 11, 2025
Interesting memoir but I found the writing a bit confusing at times.
November 19, 2025
This was incredibly heavy book - but also such an insightful look into the intersecting experience of an Aboriginal police officer. It was also a pleasant surprise to learn that Gorrie previously worked at my current workplace, the Victorian Aboriginal Legal Service!!
June 26, 2021
Finished this in an afternoon. Gorrie writes with unflinching honesty about her experiences as an Aboriginal woman, mother, and police officer. A must read for all Australians.
April 11, 2021
I tore through this book and found myself audibly gasping at so many of the stories it holds. It’s not fair that one woman has been through so much in one lifetime, and not right that’s not unusual, yet the huge compassion and humour that Ronnie emerges with and shares is remarkable.
Her writing is forthright and clear – this is a no-bullshit book, and one that will surely have a big impact. No one could read it and still believe that the police are not a deeply racist institution, or not feel more conscious of the lifelong (and intergenerational) after-effects of white + colonial + male violence... But it’s about so much more than that too!
I loved the stories of Ronnie as a child and teenager the most. There are heaps of sweet moments, like her singing with her siblings in “Australia’s Jackson five”, or stealing bubblegum jeans, or when she got her first period and her dad went and bought every brand of pads in the supermarket for her.
I also loved the way she clearly and plainly showed how alcoholism is a health issue not a criminal one; and how poverty and trauma are at the root of so many criminalised behaviours.
Mostly though, as well as being a book about racism and survival, this is a book full of so much love. About family and the messy loving of those who cause us pain – the learning to forgive others and ourselves. I could bang on but go read her words instead.
Her writing is forthright and clear – this is a no-bullshit book, and one that will surely have a big impact. No one could read it and still believe that the police are not a deeply racist institution, or not feel more conscious of the lifelong (and intergenerational) after-effects of white + colonial + male violence... But it’s about so much more than that too!
I loved the stories of Ronnie as a child and teenager the most. There are heaps of sweet moments, like her singing with her siblings in “Australia’s Jackson five”, or stealing bubblegum jeans, or when she got her first period and her dad went and bought every brand of pads in the supermarket for her.
I also loved the way she clearly and plainly showed how alcoholism is a health issue not a criminal one; and how poverty and trauma are at the root of so many criminalised behaviours.
Mostly though, as well as being a book about racism and survival, this is a book full of so much love. About family and the messy loving of those who cause us pain – the learning to forgive others and ourselves. I could bang on but go read her words instead.
April 24, 2021
A super timely and powerful memoir by proud Gunai/Kurnai woman Veronica Gorrie which is right up there with the best Aboriginal memoirs, most recently Archie Roach's, but going back, Ruby Langford's, those of Sally Morgan and Jackie and Rita Huggins and many others. Gorrie spent ten years as a rare Aboriginal woman in policing and she was very good at her job but what it has left her with PTSD and regrets. The system is racist to its core and broken. But this is not only a memoir about that scarring experience, as important a story as that is. It's the story of her whole life, including as the title also references, being a DV survivor. But Gorrie is also a mum, a daughter, a partner, sister, friend, music lover, an Aboriginal woman and now she's a writer, and a fine storyteller. Go buy it and spread the word.
February 13, 2022
This was so good. Gorrie is a Gunai-Kurnai and Gunditjamara woman, who writes of growing up as an Aboriginal child with her white mother and Aboriginal father. She then goes on to describe how as an adult and parent herself she joined the police force, as a way to support her family and in the hope of bridging the gap between her people and the police. She writes in a way that makes it hard to put the book down. It’s quite a fast moving story, filled with challenges, profound trauma, and so much love.
I wish every Australian would read this brave, compassionate story.
I wish every Australian would read this brave, compassionate story.
July 20, 2021
2.5 rounded up
The author has suffered so much - a mother who didn't love or want her, sexual abuse, domestic violence, lack of food, neglect, racism and generational trauma. To add to this her children have also suffered from domestic violence and lack of food. Although the autobiography is incredibly sad, I often found the writing choppy and clunky. At times, during the second half, I found myself skimming pages as yet another police job was mentioned, briefly discussed, then passed over for another job.
The author has suffered so much - a mother who didn't love or want her, sexual abuse, domestic violence, lack of food, neglect, racism and generational trauma. To add to this her children have also suffered from domestic violence and lack of food. Although the autobiography is incredibly sad, I often found the writing choppy and clunky. At times, during the second half, I found myself skimming pages as yet another police job was mentioned, briefly discussed, then passed over for another job.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
April 3, 2022
I don’t know how to rate Black and Blue. It’s an indictment on our Australian police force, and a brave and confronting exposée on everyday and structural racism, domestic violence, and the intersection of being female and black, but it’s so poorly edited that its impact suffered for me. Every writer needs a good editor, whether they are a prolific author or debutant, and a good editor could have transformed this into something exceptional, whilst maintaining the honesty of Gorrie’s words and her conversational style.
May 30, 2021
So powerful and yet heartbreaking. I am left with the urge to cry.
August 20, 2021
Veronica Gorrie is one tough lady, with a straightforward, no-holds-barred writing style. Gorrie shows us the daily reality of racial discrimination, violence and police brutality, as the author and other social activists endeavour to help individuals and change the system which brutalises and kills Aboriginal people. As you read this book, keep asking yourself, would this targeting and treatment ever happen to white Australians? An eye-opening read.
February 17, 2022
'The system is not designed for Aboriginal people. We are not meant to be police officers. In order to succeed in the police force you have to change your mentality, your views on your own people. To turn a blind eye, to not speak up about the injustices caused to your own mob, you have to effectively assimilate, become white, to act white and to think white. '
March 5, 2024
As the final line of the book says: "everyone has a story you just have to listen long enough" this is a hard book to 'listen' to bringing up lots of trauma and triggers. I do think it has a very important message and is very impactful. Well written and a page turn although there were times I needed to put it down for reflection or respite from the story.
July 28, 2021
Veronica Gorrie's story is fascinating, both of growing up Black in country Victoria and her time in the police force in Queensland. She's pretty clear that, institutionally, the police force is no place for Black/First Nations.
Read
August 11, 2023a confronting but important read.
i regret looking at goodreads reviews halfway through because some of the editorial critiques only stuck out to me after i'd read them. regardless of the structure of the book, i was gripped by gorrie's story and i wish she had narrated the audiobook herself.
i regret looking at goodreads reviews halfway through because some of the editorial critiques only stuck out to me after i'd read them. regardless of the structure of the book, i was gripped by gorrie's story and i wish she had narrated the audiobook herself.
February 21, 2025
Harrowing and enraging. Essential Australian abolitionist reading. Veronica Gorrie is such an amazing person. Her practice of love and empathy, in spite of all she has experienced, shines through in this book. I’m in awe.
April 13, 2022
Worth the read
Totally recommend this book to anyone who has any interest in what its like living as an aboriginal in Australia.
Totally recommend this book to anyone who has any interest in what its like living as an aboriginal in Australia.
January 23, 2022
This book should be required reading. At times it was incredibly hard to keep going, so I cannot imagine what these things are like to experience.
February 16, 2022
TW: racism, sexual abuse, family violence, alcohol abuse, bullying.
A proud Kurnai woman, Veronica Gorrie grew up dauntless, full of cheek and a fierce sense of justice. After watching her friends and family suffer under a deeply compromised law-enforcement system, Gorrie signed up for training to become one of a rare few Aboriginal police officers in Australia. In her ten years in the force, she witnessed appalling institutional racism and sexism, and fought past those things to provide courageous and compassionate service to civilians in need, many Aboriginal themselves.
This incredible and deeply moving book is separated into two sections, black - which details Veronica's life, and blue - her experiences whilst being a police officer with Queensland Police. Both equally harrowing, confronting and absolutely unacceptable. First Nations people are affected daily by the atrocities of colonisation, and will continue to suffer if change, REAL change does not occur. Intergenerational trauma WILL continue to occur for several generations as we still have stolen generations among us.
This is a powerful book, a storytelling book, a vulnerable and admirable book of Veronica's life.
Thank you for allowing us to share your pain, to help you heal, to make others understand.
A proud Kurnai woman, Veronica Gorrie grew up dauntless, full of cheek and a fierce sense of justice. After watching her friends and family suffer under a deeply compromised law-enforcement system, Gorrie signed up for training to become one of a rare few Aboriginal police officers in Australia. In her ten years in the force, she witnessed appalling institutional racism and sexism, and fought past those things to provide courageous and compassionate service to civilians in need, many Aboriginal themselves.
This incredible and deeply moving book is separated into two sections, black - which details Veronica's life, and blue - her experiences whilst being a police officer with Queensland Police. Both equally harrowing, confronting and absolutely unacceptable. First Nations people are affected daily by the atrocities of colonisation, and will continue to suffer if change, REAL change does not occur. Intergenerational trauma WILL continue to occur for several generations as we still have stolen generations among us.
This is a powerful book, a storytelling book, a vulnerable and admirable book of Veronica's life.
Thank you for allowing us to share your pain, to help you heal, to make others understand.
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