Editor Lyndon Keane – yes, the one in the stuffed crocodile Akubra – says the success of locally-driven events like Conquer the Corrugations demonstrate what incredible outcomes can be achieved when remote communities are empowered to create their own fate. Photo: Cape York Weekly.
If I had to choose a running of Conquer the Corrugations to be my first, I could have done a lot worse than having the 10th anniversary walk mark my reporting debut on the event hundreds of people from Cape York and beyond now have as a must-do in their calendar every year.
Congratulations must go to organisers and Conquerors for their efforts over the weekend, especially those who were talented enough to make the Peninsula Developmental Road’s (PDR) ubiquitous red dirt disappear to shine at the Diamonds in the Dust gala evening on Sunday.
As I spoke to and photographed participants as they trekked and talked their way along the PDR, it dawned on me locally-driven events like Conquer the Corrugations were doing much more than opening up conversations about mental health: they are all the proof we need that empowering communities to develop and deliver programs important to them – including those designed to build individual and collective resilience – will produce more positive outcomes than a boardroom full of well-funded, allegedly expert stakeholders who are complete strangers to the community but swear they have the answers as they wait for their latest government cheque to clear.
Over two days filled with laughter, deep conversations, tears and philosophical introspection while trying to avoid getting a mouthful of red dust courtesy of caravanners with little sense of personal space, here are my top three takeaways from an event everyone needs to experience at least once.
Lesson 1: Crazy colours create conversations
TradeMutt has done some amazing things to help start hard conversations through colourful workwear but Dan, Ed and their designers can’t hold a candle to the discussions commenced via a convoy of homemade tutus and fluorescent activewear stretched out across kilometres of stark landscape. During Conquer, it doesn’t matter who you are, where you’re from or what your story is – someone will be there to engage in conversation and ask about you. The louder and more left field your ensemble, the more likely the chat will start with a comment about the effort you’ve put in, or an interrogation about where a grown man found a pink tutu and novelty clown bow tie on Cape York.
Lesson 2: Local empowerment equals local success
Whether it’s Conquer, a celebration of culture and history, a fishing tournament or a health fundraiser in the guise of a dress-up charity golf day, the best community outcomes on Cape York occur when it’s locals in the wheelhouse. It’s that community passion and pride that drives success, and it’s impossible to replicate with external stakeholders, be they government representatives, consultants or members of service organisations whose names make catchy acronyms but no one can remember what they actually do.
If Cape York is going to experience the type of social and economic prosperity we know it has the potential to achieve, we’re going to have to do it ourselves. Government after government – whether you’re talking about Canberra or Brisbane – has demonstrated the northernmost part of the state is just a political afterthought, so there need to be elected representatives in place who recognise this, are willing to provide the financial support needed to transform community-led initiatives into reality, and then capable of stepping back and allowing empowered locals to deliver the best local outcomes possible.
Lesson 3: Tourists don’t trust giants in crocodile hats
This may not technically be a lesson in local empowerment and decision making, but it does make you question where we are at as a society when tourists seem compelled to almost drive into a table drain to get as far away as possible from a 6’5” man wearing a matching shirt and board shorts, hot pink thongs and an Akubra adorned with a stuffed crocodile decked out in neon, tri-colour sweatbands reminiscent of an 80s aerobics television show. That the aforementioned gentleman was standing in the middle of the PDR at the time waving and grinning manically at the southern visitors while swinging a camera around may have had something to do with it, but it’s not good for the self-esteem. Or so the gentleman tells me. Let’s just all be grateful there was a production issue with the neon pink tutu he was also going to wear.
