A Collection of your Referendum Stories

A Collection of your Referendum Stories

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly: Reflecting on the Referendum’s Impact on Indigenous and Non-Indigenous Australians

The recent referendum on a First Nations Voice to Parliament has left deep and lasting marks on Australia. In the aftermath, over 200 stories were shared with us—one-third of them from Indigenous voices. We are deeply grateful to those who opened up and allowed us a glimpse into their experiences. These stories paint a complex picture, revealing a mix of hope, heartbreak, and frustration, while highlighting the stark differences in how Indigenous and non-Indigenous people experienced this moment. This reflection explores the good, the bad, and the ugly of the referendum’s impact on both communities.

The Good: Moments of Connection and Hope

In the initial stages of the referendum, there was a sense of optimism and unity, as many people came together in support of change. 

One non-Indigenous participant shared how advocating for the 'Yes' vote allowed them to reconnect with friends and family. “We were able to check in with each other, talk passionately, and share stories—leaning on each other to support ourselves better and inspiring each other to do more.” For them, the referendum represented a valuable opportunity to learn and stand in solidarity.

Similarly, many Indigenous people felt a sense of renewed connection to their communities. “The Voice to Parliament made me feel a sense of deep connection with community and mob. One I longed for,” reflected one Indigenous participant. The rallies and community gatherings fostered a sense of hope and solidarity, offering a glimpse into the potential for national unity.

An Indigenous educator described a poignant moment at a community gathering: “There was a moment when we all held hands and sang together. It felt like we were finally being heard, like maybe this time would be different.” For a time, it seemed as though change was within reach.

Another non-Indigenous ally shared how the referendum became a learning journey for their family: “We talked about Australia’s history with our eight-year-old, explaining the importance of having a voice for Indigenous Australians. He pointed out every ‘Yes’ sign with a huge smile. It felt like a small victory, even if the result didn’t go our way.” These moments of connection helped many feel hopeful about the future, despite the challenges.

The Bad: Misinformation and Fractured Relationships

However, as the campaign progressed, the initial optimism began to wane, overshadowed by a wave of misinformation and confusion. Many non-Indigenous allies described their frustration with the prevalence of false claims. One shared their experience of conversations with family members in rural areas: “They spoke about all kinds of bonkers things—UN takeovers, more taxes, land grabs. When I tried to show them their error in thinking, they got defensive and rude. I’m gutted.”

Others expressed disappointment in friends who seemed to support First Nations issues but ultimately voted ‘No.’ One non-Indigenous person recounted, “He wore the footy jerseys, hung the art, and talked the talk. But when it came time to vote, he told me he didn’t have time to read the information and went with a ‘No.’ I was heartbroken.”

For Indigenous people, the burden of addressing misinformation carried a more personal weight. Many described efforts to educate others, often met with resistance or outright hostility. “I felt the urge to debate them—to try to convince them that Aboriginal people were deserving. This was dehumanising,” one person shared. The rise in toxic online discourse only exacerbated the emotional toll, making it increasingly difficult to navigate these challenging conversations.

A young Indigenous person described their experience trying to bridge the gap between perspectives: “I tried to explain to my friends that equality isn’t about treating everyone the same—it’s about recognising differences and ensuring everyone has the same opportunities. But they just couldn’t see it.” This feeling of not being understood was a common theme, making it all the more disheartening.

The referendum also strained relationships within families and social circles. One Indigenous person described their disappointment after speaking with a relative who had already voted 'No': “I wish I had called sooner. I wish I had been able to change their mind.” Another shared the pain of learning that their children’s friends' parents—people they had considered allies—voted 'No,' citing arguments like, “Why should they get more handouts?” This stark realisation highlighted the lingering divisions within communities.

The Ugly: Resurgence of Racism and Feelings of Rejection

The most distressing aspect of the referendum was the resurgence of overt racism and hostility. Many Indigenous people faced threats, insults, and instances of violence. One person recounted a deeply humiliating experience while campaigning at a polling booth: “I was wearing my Always Was Always Will Be Shirt shirt, and a person just walked up and spat at me. It was so degrading. How did we get here?”

Another non-Indigenous nurse, described how difficult it was to return to work after the results. “I saw two of my Aboriginal patients in clinic, and normally we chat and laugh, but not this time. One needed help with a service, but the Aboriginal Corporation we use was in mourning and no one answered. I respect that, but it feels like the gap is widening again.”

Online spaces, too, became arenas for hostility. “I always knew people could be racist online, but this reached a new low,” shared one participant. “Threats, insults, people saying we should just get over it. It was like they had no idea we’re real people. It hurt so much.”

For many Indigenous people, the referendum’s outcome felt like a rejection of their very identity and existence. “It felt like Australia said, ‘No, your Mob don’t deserve recognition or a voice,’” one person wrote. The grief and sense of betrayal were palpable. While some non-Indigenous allies were able to move forward after the result, many Indigenous people felt as though they remained in a state of mourning.

Another Indigenous person shared the hurt caused by seeing familiar faces on the opposite side of the issue: “To see people I thought knew better, people I thought cared, say things like ‘just get over it’—that cut deeper than the result itself.” The emotional toll of feeling let down by those close to them lingered.

Non-Indigenous allies, too, grappled with disappointment, though their experiences were often less personal. Many described their frustration with the outcome, but from a more detached perspective. One shared, “I wanted change so badly, but now I feel as though we are even further away.” While their disappointment was real, it often lacked the same sense of deep, personal loss that many Indigenous people described.

What Comes Next? A Call for Truth, Healing, and Resilience

The good, the bad, and the ugly of this experience have left a lasting impact on both Indigenous and non-Indigenous people, though the weight of this impact has not been evenly shared.

For non-Indigenous people this moment offers an opportunity for self-reflection and a renewed understanding of what it means to be a genuine ally. The commitment to standing alongside First Nations communities must extend beyond a single vote—ongoing listening, learning, and active support are essential. As one person aptly noted, “We need our allies now more than ever.”

For Indigenous people, this time has been marked by profound pain and disappointment. The referendum result has left many feeling more isolated and vulnerable than before. Yet, as one person reminded us, “We are 65,000 years strong, but this still hurts.” 

The path forward will not be easy, but the commitment remains. Despite everything, it is still ‘Yes’—to truth-telling, to standing up for justice, to pushing for treaty, and to holding power to account. 

If you want to share your story please comment below or add your story anonymously on our survey link here. 

If this need to talk or support you can reach out via phone or SMS to Lifeline on 13 11 14 or for Mob specific services there is also Yarn 13 92 76 available 24 hours, 7 days per week.

Recommended reading 'It's Still Yes To' Blog.

Its still yes to

Some more stories...

Aboriginal, Female, Metro WA
My Mum wasn’t going to vote—she was happy to cop the fine. I had a chat with her about taking the opportunity to have a voice for the voiceless and what a ‘Yes’ vote could mean for First Nations peoples. Thankfully, I was able to change her ‘No’ vote to a ‘Yes’ vote and took her to vote early. 🖤💛❤️


Non-Indigenous, Female, Metro VIC
My Dad’s in his 70s and was leaning towards voting ‘No’. He lives in a small town in south-east Queensland. We had some chats about voting in the referendum, and over time, he decided to vote ‘Yes’. He even ordered the Voice to Parliament book to sell in his news agency. Some people are really racist up there, and he was nervous. It’s one small change in our family, and I hope the door stays open so we can listen and talk about the next meaningful steps as allies.


Non-Indigenous, Female, Metro NSW
I was at a polling booth in [suburb name], one of the most racist places. We returned a 30% 'Yes' vote—one of the lowest, shamefully. But even there, there were moments that gave me hope: a mum took a photo of her little girl in front of the 'Yes' sign after they’d voted; a man stopped afterward and said, “We shouldn’t even have to vote; this should be automatic”; and the people running the democracy sausage sizzle refused to sell a sausage sanga to the lone 'No' campaigner at our booth. So, even in this racist electorate, there were things to smile about.


Indigenous, Female, Regional SA
Firstly, seeing so many people wearing 'No' t-shirts and standing together was horrific. They were spreading lies and deceit all over our town—I couldn’t go to the shops or the petrol station without groups of 'No' voters wearing their t-shirts, shoving papers in my face, and spouting misinformation. I chose not to go out during the last couple of days of polling because it made me feel physically nervous, anxious, and sick.


Indigenous, Male, Metro VIC
The moment the referendum was announced as a platform for politicisation, it unleashed and empowered hordes of racists, who now seem like they have complete justification in minimising the value of our lives and any kind of social equity. I've never felt so unsafe and unwelcome on my own traditional Country.


Indigenous, Female, Metro SA
I went to vote at my local polling booth. I am Aboriginal myself, and I was wearing an Aboriginal flag shirt. As I went to put my ballot in the box—clearly voting 'Yes'—the guy behind me said, “Where do I put my vote? I don't want those people getting through,” while pointing in my direction. I scoffed because I was so shocked. This is exactly what I was afraid of with the 'No' vote—the conservative side using it as an excuse to be openly racist. Now that the 'No' vote has gone through, I’m scared for the future and the power it seems to have given them. It feels like it has given them a voice—much like what Trump did for conservatives in the USA.


Non-Indigenous, Female, Regional QLD
Most of my children’s friends’ parents, my friends from my kid's school, voted 'No'. My son's teacher voted 'No'. Their reasons were things like, “Why should Indigenous people get more handouts? They get enough as it is,” or that it was “divisive” and “not necessary.” They even brought up wild ideas like a UN takeover, more taxes, and land grabs. When I tried to challenge their thinking and show them where they were wrong, they got super defensive and rude. I'm gutted. I cannot tolerate them anymore, and I’ve put some distance between us.


Non-Indigenous, Female, Metro WA
Yesterday was the first day back at work after the referendum results. I’m a nurse for kidney health, and I saw two of my Aboriginal patients in the clinic. Usually, we have a laugh, chat about family, and discuss their health along with their dialysis. But none of that happened this time. It was hard. One of them needed some services put in place, but the Aboriginal Corporation we usually rely on was in mourning—no one answered. I respect that. It feels like the gap is widening already.


Indigenous, Male, Regional NSW
I work as an Aboriginal education consultant. Throughout the referendum period, I was targeted with racist comments about the referendum at work and in schools, often by staff members. At the polling booths, I wore an AWAWB shirt and was spat at by someone walking past. Conversations and comments online were awful, both leading up to and after the referendum. The cultural load is massive. Sometimes, when I look at an audience of 100 people I’m speaking to, I think about how 70% of them voted for me and my kids not to have a voice. The echo chamber of small regional towns is suffocating.

Aboriginal Male, Metro VIC
It should have been left up to only the First Nations people of Australia. Non-First Nations people should not have been involved. Also, the Treaty should have taken priority over the Referendum.


Aboriginal Female, Regional QLD
I am a sessional academic at a university, teaching in an Aboriginal history unit. One day, while leaving work with my “I’m voting Yes” badge and my "Always Was, Always Will Be" Clothing the Gaps tee, someone stopped their car to spit at me, call me slurs, and tell me I’m a slave to the government. This person was also mob. It was heartbreaking. The lateral violence at the moment is so rife.


Aboriginal Female, Metro VIC
I just wish all the whitefellas at work would take the time to read the Australian Constitution and really understand what the vote was about. Their failure to understand the immense cultural load mob are feeling is utterly depressing. They all did cultural safety training and claimed to be allies, but when mob really needed our allies, they were MIA. I’ve never had to set so many boundaries or calmly explain I am not their personal wiki more than in the past nine months.


Female, Non-Indigenous, Regional NT
I thought growing up that those in my inner circle were like me. But during the Voice to Parliament discussion, I learned that many of my family and friends did not align with me. While I had a few friends reach out to engage in discussion, the lead-up to the vote was grueling. When the No vote came through, I felt like the world had come crashing down. I grieved for days, hardly leaving my home. My inner circle didn’t comprehend this. I’ve never felt more lonely or isolated. I also felt great guilt and shame—white Australia had done this. I felt so hopeless.


Male, Non-Indigenous, Metro VIC
I bought a “Yes!” badge at a market in Pomona, QLD. The conversation I had with a volunteer gave me hope for a Yes outcome. I wore it to another market the next day near Caloundra, where a stallholder commented that he admired my “courage” for wearing the badge. He said that Queenslanders, in general, are openly anti-Aboriginal, if not outright racist. I was saddened, but not surprised. The wounds are deep, but I know mob will heal and wear this new scar with the same pride as their forebears.


Female, Non-Indigenous, NSW
Campaigned with enormous hope despite abuse at stalls and polling places. I still cannot believe that my country could be so disrespectful, accept so much misinformation, and continue spouting colonial tropes. None of it matched the generous invitation that is the Uluru Statement.


Male, Non-Indigenous, Metro VIC
As a 70-year-old privileged white man, I am deeply saddened by the referendum result. It has triggered many things, but as I write this, I realize it feels self-indulgent to reflect on my non-Indigenous narrative. I think about my upbringing and the complete disregard for Indigenous people in my education. The conversations before and after the referendum reinforced how divided this nation is. This process has angered me and made me reflect on the ignorance that still exists. Thanks for the opportunity to reflect—I hope many others take it.


Male, Non-Indigenous, Metro VIC
Despite the disappointing outcome, I felt some positive change through the process. I discussed the referendum with my team at work and created a space for dialogue. I also learned a lot from my Indigenous colleagues and was able to help others better understand the significance of the vote. One colleague went from 'If you don’t know, vote No' to voting Yes after our conversations. Although sad at the outcome, I believe we made positive change.


Indigenous Female, Regional WA
The Voice impacted my day-to-day interactions with family in ways I didn’t expect. My partner’s family is non-Indigenous, and the lead-up to the referendum was challenging. His family made comments that made me uncomfortable, but I had to wear it (in-laws and all). I didn’t want to see them, worried about hearing they were voting No. Even though my partner’s mum said she would vote Yes because I was, it felt tokenistic. My own family interactions were exhausting—my mum believed conspiracy theories, and my dad thought it wouldn’t help. Carrying the weight was difficult, and I’m grateful to those who campaigned, even though we didn’t make it in the end.


Indigenous Female, Regional VIC
I was on pre-polls in Warrnambool for two weeks, and today broke me. A young Yes voter hugged me, overwhelmed by the negativity. She couldn’t breathe through it anymore. I’m glad she felt safe expressing that emotion with me, but I cried too. It’s been the hardest experience of my life—being spat at by grown men has brought me to exhaustion.


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