His name is simply “Uncle Ed”. I don’t know him at all. I don’t know his full name, where he lives or works, or how old he is. I have not succeeded in finding out anything about this enigmatic person on the internet.

I have only heard about him once – from a seven-year-old.

Uncle Ed visited her school recently.

She was showing me her craft. It was made of plywood and had the shape of a tree with a goanna making its way up the tree trunk. There was a slot at the base, and another piece fitted into the slot so the craft would stand. She had painted the trunk brown, the leaves green, and the goanna purple with a black eye.

I asked her who had cut out the wood – it was Uncle Ed. He’d come to their school to recount the story of the goanna, and she had a copy of the story in her case.

I was intrigued. Had he made such a tree and goanna craft project for each child in her class? I was amazed. With twenty-five children in her class, that would have taken some time.

No. He had made one for every child in the whole school, I was told. I was stunned. She counted the classes in each grade, and we calculated that he had made around four hundred!

Why?

Uncle Ed is a “friend of the school”. That was her description. Not a teacher, not a teacher’s aide – a friend. He is a storyteller, and he visits once a year with a story and a craft activity.

My assumption is that Uncle Ed is an Aboriginal man who lives nearby, and he visits to teach the students about his culture, about what is meaningful to him. First Nations elders often refer to themselves as “Uncle” or “Aunty”, a term of respect.

Stories and legends are very important to our First Nations people. Their culture and arts are starting to experience a resurgence, and Uncle Ed is doing a little to keep their stories alive – by spending many hours preparing a craft activity for four hundred children. Not just this year. Last year he made four hundred kookaburras from wood for the children to paint. He also recounted an Aboriginal legend about a kookaburra.

I am impressed.

Many Australians are now starting to acknowledge the traditions and culture of our First Nations people.

No-one is asked to believe in the myths, nor change religion or belief systems; it’s simply to know and respect some stories and legends of the Aboriginal people and other meaningful aspects of their culture.

Students are exposed, both at home and at school, to myths, fables, and legends (some with very dark and frightening themes and questionable moral values) from European and Scandinavian countries. The legends and stories of fairies and elves, Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy are never questioned.

Why not learn some about our own country and its original inhabitants?

None should feel indignant that Australian Aboriginal legends are at last finding a small place in our children’s education.

It is appropriate that we learn something of their culture – they have been here for 60,000 years and were successfully managing a simple lifestyle with their own system of government and justice, land care, and bushfire management.

They practised arts, crafts, stories, music, pottery, and dance. Every person was involved with, and responsible for, protection of the environment, and they took only what was needed from nature – for the land was shared, not owned; it belonged to none.

There are several legends about goannas in Aboriginal folklore.

The story I was shown celebrated a female goanna who stood up to selfish and greedy male goannas who were keeping secret their water source. Other animals were dying in the drought. The goanna procured water for the whole community by her act of bravery; all the animals were able to survive. That's  in fact the story of how the Murrumbidgee River came into being, it flowed from the water source and out across the vast lands - a river which nourishes all wildlife.

A lesson in kindness. A lesson in sharing. A lesson in bravery for the sake of the well-being of others.

I was delighted that Uncle Ed had visited the school and offered a story for young children to discuss and learn from. I was amazed that he had spent so much time in his careful preparation for this special visit. I am pleased that the school accepts him with goodwill.

Far from seeing Uncle Ed’s visits as inappropriate, I am pleased that he cares about his culture, about the children, and that he is willing to spend considerable time and energy in teaching positive values and attitudes to the next generation.

He will never go down in history for making a difference. But he is right to take pride in his culture and heritage, and to humbly do his part in helping others to learn tolerance and respect for different ideas.

Thank you, Uncle Ed, for all the time you give to thinking about and preparing for your special visits, seeking no acknowledgement or recognition, remaining a quiet background figure. You are touching many lives, including mine.