#43 Anthony McDonald-Tipungwuti - WALLA MACCA TIPPA - till 2022

[benfti]

Sir

[Wanderlust]

After the crap that Daniher and Fantasia have put us through, pretty glad this guy signed on.

Thanks Walla!

[chris_64]

Read the article. Even if you know some of the background you cannot help being deeply moved by the story.

[SMJ]

Articles are up. There’s three apparently. Would love it if someone with access could copy and paste.

[oliver09]

Read the articles online this morning. Amazing story. Has come a long way and still has a long way to go.

[SMJ]

Copy and paste please someone

[SillyBilly]

Amazing story! Would make an awesome doc type movie.

[Bomb_Doe]

Mum wasn’t interested in me

Hamish McLachlan, Sunday Herald Sun

15-19 minutes

Anthony McDonald-Tipungwuti is one of the most popular players in the AFL. Kids wear his number on their back and fans of all clubs love watching him play. But Anthony’s story isn’t like many others. He was born in the Tiwi Islands. His life was hard, and lonely, from the start. His father died when he was very young and his biological mother, Nola, left him when he was just eight months old. His gran, who then cared for him, died when he was 10. He was lost and directionless. Then a lady who he now calls Mum, Jane McDonald, walked into his life and changed everything.

HM: Is it Anthony, Walla, or Tippa?

AMT: Well I introduce myself as Anthony, but that’s the most formal of the three. “Walla” was my nickname growing up on the Tiwi Islands and I was nicknamed “Tippa” when I played at Gippsland Power. They didn’t pronounce my name correctly, so they wanted to make it shorter and went with Tippa. But I like Walla.

HM: Walla it is. Born where?

AMT: Born in the Tiwi Islands. It’s where I grew up for 16 years and that’s where my life started.

HM: Your story is extraordinary — and you want to tell it for the first time — all of it. Why?

AMT: I want to help people — kids of all backgrounds, whatever their circumstances. If I tell my story it might help them push through and find a way out of their darkness. It won’t be easy — it wasn’t and still isn’t for me — but with belief, love and help, you will.

A young Anthony McDonald-Tipungwuti (centre) with friends.

HM: Your story has many layers and is very complicated. Are you sure you want to open up?

AMT: I am. I’m ready. I’m confident enough to now. It is my story, it’s the way my life has lived out from my side. People who know me saw the outside of me, but they didn’t know what was going on inside. I really struggled. For some reason I always had a bit of faith my life would change and that got me through my darkest times. Most people struggle with some part of their life. I was lucky to get a chance for a change in direction. It wasn’t easy, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I am still working through things.

HM: Let’s go back to the start. At eight months of age your father passed, what do you remember of your biological mother, Nola?

AMT: She drank a lot and smoked a lot, so that period was pretty hard for her, losing dad. I was the one who was left behind. My two great aunties were our next-door neighbours. I was left and they say I was outside, crying, looking for my biological mum. They came, took me in and had some food for me.

HM: When you say left behind — what do you mean?

AMT: Nola abandoned me. She left me. Walked out on me.

HM: At eight months old? When did you see her next?

AMT: I’m not sure. After that my grandma put me under her roof and became my carer. My grandma was the one that looked after me from then. I didn’t see much of my biological mum. She lived on the same island, just up the road, but she wasn’t interested in me. Grandma also took on my brother and my sister for a bit, but I was the only one that she really took on at that point, all the way until I was 10. That’s the good bit I had with her. Grandma was strict.

HM: In what way?

AMT: No drinking, no smoking, no fighting in the house. If you did any of those things, you were kicked out. She was a really strong catholic woman. She took me to church, made breakfast for us, took us to school, clothed us. I wouldn’t be where I am now without her guidance. I might not be alive. I look back now and I’m really thankful for what she did for me until she died.

HM: Your grandma passed when you were 10?

AMT: She did. I had a really good home with Grandma and it was the best life I’d ever lived on the island, but then she passed. That’s when I found life very hard, from 10 right through to 16. That’s when everything fell apart, because she was the only person that I knew that really cared about me. She looked after me, she loved me, and after she passed away it was the hardest time I’ve ever gone through, trying to find that person that would do what grandma had done for me. It was a big struggle. I felt alone and without love or direction.

A young McDonald-Tipungwuti.

HM: You felt left alone for the second time in your life?

AMT: I did. I was hoping a family would take me in and really care about me, but again, I was pretty much just rolling around the streets doing whatever I wanted. That was the toughest time I had growing up.

HM: After your grandma died, where did you live? Who was feeding you and getting you to school?

AMT: I was living under the same roof at Grandma’s place. I had a mattress on the floor there, and my aunties were still there, so that was still home base. They had a family meeting to see where they could put me and see who I could go and live with. My oldest brother was who they decided on. I thought that it was going to be good, but he had a young child, a one-year-old.

HM: How much older is your brother than you?

AMT: Ten years older. I thought I was going to be able to live and be a kid, but I had to grow up quickly and look after his kid.

HM: Where was your brother and the child’s mother?

AMT: They’d be going out to the club, drinking, so I was at home looking after my nephew.

HM: At 10-years-old?

AMT: Yep. I was in charge of looking after a one-year-old. Feeding him, nappies, getting him to sleep, keeping him safe and alive.

HM: Did you have any idea what you were supposed to be doing?

AMT: No — no idea. If he was crying, I’d try to get him to stop with some food if there was any about. And change his nappies and get him to bed at night and out in the morning.

HM: Mind blowing. Did you stop going to school?

AMT: I was in and out of the school. I couldn’t go if I was alone with my nephew. It wasn’t really important at that time. There was a lot of bullying going on so I didn’t mind not going.

HM: Bullied on what front?

AMT: Being a loner. I was always by myself, trying to look for friends. They’d constantly call me the “lost dog”. I didn’t fit in with most kids on the island, so I was always the one left out. That’s why school wasn’t really important to me.

HM: How were you in terms of reading, writing, and speaking English? English was the language of the school, but you weren’t proficient.

AMT: English wasn’t an everyday thing for us. You learn it, then go home and talk Tiwi. I didn’t enjoy school because I thought I was dumb. I would make a mistake at school and then everyone would start laughing at me, so I was too scared to say anything anyway.

HM: It was easier for you not to go to school?

AMT: I’d skip school all the time. I’d roam the streets and, in the end, I was on a collision course with bad things as there was no direction, no guidance and no way out in my mind. I was a bit scared of what was ahead.

HM: And that’s from when you were 10 through to 16?

AMT: Yep.

HM: You’re not going to school, roaming the streets, your English is poor, you can’t really read, and then, by chance, you meet someone who would change your life. How did you meet Jane McDonald?

AMT: We had a new school on the Island called Tiwi College, and I enrolled there in the first year only because they had a footy program there, and unless you enrolled, you couldn’t play footy.

HM: Attend classes to play footy?

AMT: Don’t turn up for weeks, but as soon as there’s a footy comp coming up, go to school! We were in the bus going to the waterhole, and we saw my (now) mum (Jane McDonald) and my (now) sister (Nikki) cleaning the school. We wondered what these people were doing, cleaning our school — are they crazy?

HM: That was the first time you’d seen each other?

AMT: Yes — the first time I saw mum and my sister. Mum was helping out my sister, Nikki. She was a house parent in Tiwi, and Mum was helping with some sport, working with the Tiwi Bombers.

HM: And that’s when you bonded?

AMT: That’s where I got close to them. I had a training session up in Darwin, and I forgot my socks. I was scrambling looking for some socks, and I said to mum, “I don’t have any socks to train in”. My coach had said to me, “If you do that again, you’re not going to play”. I was embarrassed because everyone was looking at me. I was 16 at the time. Mum said to my sister “Take your socks off and give them to Anthony”. That was the first moment for a long time where I felt I had someone that really cared about me.

HM: Which you hadn’t had for six years?

AMT: Not since my gran had died. Gran was the first and only person who had ever cared for me, and who I had felt loved by. I’d had no affection since then. It was then I wanted — and in a way I sort of knew — that mum was the person who was going to take care of me for the rest of my life.

HM: When your sister, Nikki, gave you the socks, how long had you known each other?

AMT: A month.

HM: You took the socks from Nikki, and you felt loved and included and wanted, which you hadn’t felt for a long time. How does the conversation go from, “thanks for the socks” to, “I want to live with you?”

AMT: Me, CK and John Pierre … two mates of mine, used to follow Mum and Nikki and go wherever they went when they were in Tiwi. They were on Tiwi living at Tiwi College.

HM: Jane — you were living on the Island permanently, or for a short period to try and find yourself?

JM: Just for a short period. My husband Jim had passed away and it was a time to get away and clear my head.

HM: You were up there just helping out where you could.

JM: Yep, living at Tiwi College. For my food and board, I took sports classes and nutrition classes. That’s what I did at Chairo Christian School at home. I had the full backing of Chairo at that time, because Jim had worked there at different times. These three kids, Anthony, John Pierre and CK just followed us wherever we went.

McDonald-Tipungwuti in action for the Tiwi Bombers.

HM: What were you wanting Anthony?

AMT: Looking back, probably love. Affection, touch, that feeling of connection. It was heading up to Christmas break, and I asked Jane whether she’d take us in for Christmas!

HM: What did you say?

AMT: There was a post at the school, out the front, and I hid behind it, waiting for Mum to come past. I stuck out my head and said “Would you take us to Melbourne for Christmas?”

HM: You stuck your head out, said it, and then ducked behind it again because you were too scared the answer might be no?

AMT: Yeah. I was afraid to ask, but I just had to. I felt so comfortable with Mum, and knew I had to ask.

HM: What was the answer?

AMT: Mum said she’d ring her kids at home and ask them if she could bring us to Melbourne for Christmas. Then Mum went to China for a week on this trip she had promised the school she would go on, and I didn’t talk to her for a week. I was so upset. I felt she had left me for good.

HM: Abandoned again?

AMT: Again. Same thing. I had this person that I really trusted, that really cared about me, and now she’d left me again.

HM: You had a fear of getting close to people?

AMT: Yep. Mum asked Nikki what was going on with me, and she said: “He doesn’t think you’re going to come back”.

HM: Nikki said Jane would come back, but you didn’t believe her.

AMT: No. I thought, “This is how it happens — this is how my life is. Nola left me. Gran left me. Now Mum has left me again!” Nikki said to me, “Mum would never do that. You’ve got to trust her — she’ll come back”. I was 50-50 at that time. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to trust Nikki and have my heart broken again. What if she didn’t come back? Again, Nikki assured me she would, but I just expected her not to.

HM: Jane, you went to China, and you landed at home, and then went back to the Tiwi?

JM: I landed, did what I had to do for a day or two at school, and then went back to the Tiwi.

HM: When you saw Jane again, did you start the chat again?

AMT: Yeah. She said we could go with her to her home in Gippsland and have Christmas.

JM: They didn’t have any ID to get tickets to get them on a plane! We asked for their birth certificates from the school, but they wouldn’t give them to us, so we had to do this dummy ID up to get them on the plane.

AMT: We’ve still got it!

JM: I asked a cousin of Anthony’s, “Who is the guardian who looks after Anthony?” And he said, “Anthony is in charge of himself”. At this stage, I didn’t even know that his biological mum, Nola, existed.

HM: So where was Nola at this point?

AMT: She was on the island.

HM: How much contact did you have?

McDonald-Tipungwuti with his mum, Jane. Picture Jay Town

AMT: The only time I would go and see her was if I was hungry. I’d go to the club where she was drinking and ask her for some food. I’d get a drink and a packet of chips.

HM: How often would that have been?

AMT: Four times a week.

HM: Four times a week you’d be starving and you’d go to see if Mum would give you something to eat?

AMT: Yep, or anyone for that matter. See who had a bit of food to spare for me.

HM: Because there wasn’t much at the home?

AMT: Nothing. My stepdad, John, was living with Nola at the time, and he was the only one that cooked at home. I would go around there whenever I could, because I knew he could cook a good meal and he would give me one. That was the only time he’d look after me, when I was hungry. He was a happy drunk, worked, had a good job, so he was someone I used to look up to. He would work and then go and enjoy himself by having a few drinks. The rest of the family, when they drunk, they were very violent. He was the only one that made my life happy. The others didn’t.

HM: That’s ■■■■■■ sad. You got to Victoria for Christmas. How was it?

AMT: It was amazing. We were so excited to be there. We kept to ourselves a lot as we didn’t want to intrude and were a bit shy with Jane’s other kids there. CK and I just stayed upstairs, listening to music for a lot of our stay. We were upstairs listening to Akon (American singer) the whole time — over and over. The only time we’d come downstairs was when we got the chance to go and ride the ride-on mower! We mowed a footy oval out the back.

HM: Had you ever been given a Christmas present before that trip?

AMT: No. Never.

HM: You had seemingly stumbled into a very different environment — from days on end where you didn’t get much to eat at all, to Christmas lunches, three meals a day and presents from people you hardly knew.

AMT: Yes, it was very different. From starving for a day or two at a time, to Christmas with this amazing family who seemed to care for me.

HM: Where you were welcome. And you were hugged.

AMT: Yeah. Yeah, I was. Mum was the first one that cuddled me since Grandma died. Gran was the first and Mum was the other. That was the point that I knew someone cared about me. That was when I knew someone in the world wanted me to be OK. I had found the person that would give me a second chance at life. I just feel so lucky that I met Mum.

HM: You didn’t feel like anyone cared for you at all before then?

AMT: No — I didn’t think anyone cared for me and I didn’t think anyone ever would again.

HM: Gee. How did you go from Christmas, Akon, lawnmowers, to, “Can I stay here forever?”

AMT: I asked Mum if I could stay. And she said yes. Then we had a tour of Chairo Christian College in Gippsland, where mum worked, just to go and have a look. Her son Michael, and daughter Nikki were both teachers there.

HM: Did you ring anyone at Tiwi to see if you could stay?

AMT: I didn’t think I needed to. No one would have cared. No one probably even knew I had gone. I wasn’t around, so it was probably one less problem. Out of mind, out of sight.

JM: I made him go back and ask his Aunty, Augusta. She said it was a good opportunity.

For help with emotional difficulties, contact Lifeline on 13 11 14 or www.lifeline.org.au

For help with depression, contact Beyond Blue on 1300 224 636 or at www.beyondblue.org.au

The SANE Helpline is 1800 18SANE (7263) or at www.sane.org

For more information on how to support others who might need help and what warning signs to look for, visit: Conversations Matter.

[Captain_Jack]

Wow, just wow!

Many thanks for posting this great story. We are very fortunate to have such a player on the list and more power to Jane McDonald for taking in and saving him.

[SMJ]

Is that all three articles? I think it might just be the first one? Thank you sir

[Hoffy]

Genuine tears, tough but sensitive fella. So glad he is with us.

[Killer_Mike]

Walla is a legend!

Great story.

[Hird_m]

Please make this man one of the leaders of our club.

[BakerWasAStar]

That is one of the most incredible reads, ever.

[munna1]

Amazing, feel very lucky to have him at our club. He should be one of our leaders. The culture of the club needs rebuilding. This guy should be a big part of it.

[Bomb_Doe]

PART 2

How resilient Tippa survived his move to Melbourne

Hamish McLachlan, Sunday Herald Sun

15-18 minutes

Before Anthony McDonald-Tipungwuti met his adopted mother, Jane McDonald, the Tiwi native had “no direction and no guidance” and believed there was “no way out” of his troubled ways. However, thanks to the extraordinary good will of McDonald, who brought him to Melbourne and brought the then teenager into her home, the man affectionately known as “Tippa” went from a 16-year-old with the intelligence of a grade one student to a player for the Essendon Football Club.

READ PART ONEAND THREE

HM: You stayed in Victoria and started at Chairo (Christian School).

JM: We had to get into Chairo first. I rang Rob Bray, who was the principal at Chairo. Rob said they weren’t a sporting school, so it couldn’t be a scholarship. He had to come to learn, and he wasn’t sure that was going to work because he didn’t speak English.

AMT: I had my first interview on the phone, and I just said to Rob, “I just want an education. I’m not going to come down for football, an education is what I want”. From that point we had a few meetings, and Mum went back to have a chat to him.

JM: It was going to be too hard, basically. They did tests to see where he’d fit in the school, and he was at early grade one standard.

HM: As a 16-year-old?

AMT: Yeah.

HM: Ten odd years behind?

JM: Yes. Rob walked in the door, and I knew straight away that he was going to say no to staying. I said, “Rob, I’m bringing Anthony down as part of my family, my other four kids have gone to school here with your kids. I know this is the place that he needs to be”. Rob looked at me and said, “You do know I was going to say no”. He looked at me and said, “Okay. You’ve convinced me”. I said, “I promise, if it doesn’t work in six months, we’ll looks elsewhere”. All the staff at school wanted him there from the time he walked in that door. They accepted him in. It was a huge result.

AMT: We laughed and I said “I will have to wear shoes, won’t I?”

HM: How was your first day?

AMT: My first day I went to school I had a little rat tail. You weren’t allowed to have anything that set you apart from everything else, so Mr. King said to me, “You know you can’t have that hairstyle”. It was the first time I got in trouble. The first minute or so of day one. But if I wanted to be a part of the school, I needed to look the part.

HM: How was your English at this point?

AMT: I couldn’t understand a lot of what was being said, so people had to repeat themselves a lot for me. But I didn’t want them to, so I stayed silent a lot.

HM: As a sixteen-year-old. What class do you go in to?

AMT: I had 9/10 BAT, which was business and technology. It was for the kids that had to learn differently.

HM: Did you find it manageable?

AMT: Most of the kids in the class had learning disabilities. I’d be taken out of class to go to Mrs Lorraine Lodge, who would take me through a one-on-one lesson with her. That was for two periods a day and it was the only time I got out of class to try and better my standard. She worked very hard to get me to where I ended up. It was a lot of work, basic stuff like going through your alphabets, maths, English.

HM: You started at the very beginning by the sound of it?

AMT: There was a lot of repetitive stuff, and if I got something wrong, I’d have to start over. I would work for four hours a night at home. I knew basically nothing and I was 16.

JM: At home we tried to get him from grade one, to grade five, and at school they’d try and get him into grade six and grade seven. That’s how we were trying to make it work.

HM: Was it working?

AMT: No. I wasn’t learning much at all!

JM: He didn’t come on the way Lorraine thought he would. She came to me and said, “I think there is a mental problem with him”. The school paid for him to be tested, and through that testing we found out that he had foetal alcohol syndrome.

HM: Physical and or mental damage in a child due to alcohol exposure in the womb?

AMT: Yes. That’s why I found it so difficult to learn. I wasn’t dumb, I just had to be taught a different way.

JM: It took him 18 months to get to lower grade 5 standard, and 18 months later he had finished year 11. That’s how bright he is!

HM: With foetal alcohol syndrome, it affects your learning, so once you know that you’ve got it, how do you get around that and learn appropriately?

AMT: In my case, it attacked my short term memory loss. Every other part of my brain is fine, it’s just when I was developing in mums’ stomach, the alcohol got through to that part of my brain around short term memory. Once we worked that out, it was about learning in ways to help me remember.

Anthony McDonald-Tipungwuti with his mum Jane McDonald and cousin Agneatha in Tiwi.

JM: When he first came down, sometimes I’d think that he was deliberately disobeying me. I’d say, right, you need to do this and be here at this time, and he wouldn’t turn up. Short term memory loss! He’d be at school, ring me and say, “Where are you mum?”. “I’m waiting at the mechanics for you like I told you I would be!”

HM: Do you have any difficulty learning now?

AMT: I’m a visual learner. I learn by seeing things.

HM: Can you read a book now?

AMT: I can read the words, but not fully comprehend them. I can’t read for a long time.

HM: What about team meetings?

AMT: I’m getting better now. Before I would sit there, say “yep, I understand, I can do it” but had no idea what they were talking about!

HM: I wonder how many people don’t have the love, care, support, and the right people who ask the right questions to get to the heart of the problem, and just get thrown into the wrong basket in life.

AMT: Without mum I would have — so I guess heaps.

HM: It’s ■■■■■■ sad. And you are ■■■■■■ fortunate. You played footy in Tiwi barefooted, with coke bottles as footballs. In 2011, you’re hoping to be picked up in the draft. Why were you overlooked?

AMT: Fitness and diet and not being ready. My body doesn’t process sugar well, and I didn’t realise it back then. I was eating all the carbs they were telling me to eat and my body couldn’t process them. I was just getting bigger, and bigger, and I didn’t understand why.

HM: You were overlooked in 2012 overlooked again. You thought you might have been drafted then?

AMT: Yes. I was working at the council in my last year when I was playing for Gippsland, and it was the Monday before the Rookie Draft. I had a phone call from a recruiter. “Are you back on the Tiwi Islands?” And I said, “No. I’m down in Gippsland”. He said, “Oh no! That’s bad news — we were told you’d gone back home — we’ve committed to take another player!”

HM: 2013, the following year, you were training with Casey, working for the Morwell Council as a gardener. Getting up at 5am, driving to work, training with Casey, getting home at 9 o’clock, eat, sleep, repeat. Merv Keane came to your house at and tested you on a few things in the backyard of the McDonald’s house. What happened?

AMT: We did some work, ground balls, and just a few things to see where I was at with my injury. He said, “We’ve got a standalone team with Essendon, at Bendigo, and we really want you to come play with us”.

HM: That’s a long way from Gippsland!

AMT: Yep. I had a chat with mum about how we could make it work, and I thought it was a good opportunity to go and try something new. It all started from there. Moving from the Tiwi Islands to Melbourne was a big adjustment, but Gippsland to Melbourne felt bigger!

HM: Where did you move to?

JM: Oak Park, paying rent, while holding onto the house at Gippsland. We still had the house in Gippsland, so every Thursday night we’d pack up from here, go down to Gippsland where he’d work on Friday with me and the sports department, and we’d have to get back here at five o’clock for training that night.

HM: Seriously? You were living here during the week, then you’d drive to Drouin for two and a half hours on a Thursday night, wake up at 5am, work at the school doing teacher’s aide, finish at 3pm, jump in the car and arrive at training by?

AMT: I had to be there by 5. I’d always only just make it. Then play on the weekend.

JM: But sometimes we’d have to go home, because we still had to do the gardens, and mow the lawns, keep the house. Most weekends we’d be back before or after footy.

HM: Jane are you back in Gippsland now?

JM: No. I’m in Gisborne, because Anthony still isn’t really ready to live by himself yet.

HM: Why are you not ready to live by yourself yet?

AMT: I guess I haven’t really settled in my life yet. I’m still learning about so much. I don’t think I would cope too well by myself yet.

HM: In what ways?

AMT: Ummm … I’d miss Mum. It sounds a little simple, but I’m not too good with how things really work still. I need someone who helps me with understanding the do’s and don’ts of how it all works. You’ve got bills to pay, you need to know how to pay them. I’ve never been exposed to any of that, and am daunted by it all. I’m still learning.

HM: You still need a guiding light?

AMT: I need that guidance from mum. Hopefully one day I will be able to.

HM: If you were living by yourself would you eat terribly?

AMT: (laughs) Yes! Too much, and all the wrong things. I’d be able to get to training, but it’s more the cooking, washing, paying bills. Things would head off the rails very quickly by myself I think and all the wins we have had would come undone.

HM: OK. Back to footy. VFL for 2013 and 14 — still no selection in the draft. Nor in the 2015 national draft. Were you thinking at any stage of giving it up?

AMT: It was actually my last year of VFL, 2014, when I was overlooked in the draft. I said to Mum, “I’m done. It’s not going to happen, I want to go and try something new”. Playing rugby was my other option. I said to Mum, “I’m not doing the footy again — that was my chance — I’m done with it all”.

HM: Why didn’t you give it up?

AMT: All because of a meeting with Mal Michael who was my coach at Aberfeldie. That was where I played when I wasn’t playing VFL. I only played the one game there. When we met he said, “If you look in the mirror and see a person that can make it, you can do it. If you think that the person can’t do it, you will be right too”. I looked in the mirror and asked myself: “Is the person you are looking at good enough to play AFL football?” I thought I was good enough and the guy in the mirror agreed with me.

HM: So what changed?

AMT: I asked Mum to coach me during the pre-season, get me fit, get my running right. We would give it 110 per cent together.

HM: Had you had any coaching experience Jane?

JM: That’s what I did at school. I’m not a teacher, but I’d coached since I was 12 years old. I’ve won state championships as a coach of netball. But I told him “when I’m doing it, I’m your coach, not your mum! You will have to listen to me — and do what I tell you”.

HM: All running?

AMT: Almost all running, a bit of ball work, but more just long-distance running. We’d train whenever we could. I got really fit, mum got me running long distance times I hadn’t been able to before, and I was feeling OK again. Adrian Dodoro at the Bombers told me I had to be able to run a 2km trial under 7 minutes.

HM: Who did you speak to?

AMT: Adrian Dodoro. He wanted me to do the 2km in under 7 minutes? My best then was 7 minutes 40 seconds. I said I couldn’t do it. 2km — I’m never going to reach that.

HM: How long did he give you to get under 7 minutes?

AMT: A couple of weeks. I was running close to eight minutes around here, and I said to mum, “That’s it. I’m done — there’s no way!” I was ready to pull the pin again.

J M: And I said, we’re not done. We’re not done until the draft. We spoke to Rob Forster-Knight at the club about getting some help to break 7 minutes.

AMT: We said to him, “I just ran a 2km and couldn’t get near the time needed. Is there anyone that can help me run it in under seven minutes?” He led us to Paul Turk. He was critical. He taught me to run in a rhythm. Eventually, I ran the 2km in 6 minutes 58 seconds. He said, “You’re done. I’ll take this back to Adrian and say that you’ve done it in sub seven”. I rang mum. I was pretty happy.

JM: I was pretty proud of you. I said to Anthony, “You go back to John (Worsfold) and tell him that you really want this. Don’t let him be in any doubt”. I was worried John didn’t think he was totally committed.

AMT: Tiwi players are very talented footballers, but many of us don’t have as much drive as others. Or don’t have the person to drive them.

‘Walla’ was rewarded for his hard work, and was finally drafted by Essendon in 2015. Picture: Michael Klein

HM: Why do you feel that?

AMT: Maybe we are not as driven. For me, I could have been the same. Mum wanted John to know I was driven and I would do anything. I’m glad I met with John and told him I was all in.

HM: When you went to John and told him that, what did he say?

AMT: He said, “I’ll go and talk to some people, but just keep working hard on your training”.

JM: He talked to Skippy (Hayden Skipworth) as Skippy had worked with him through the VFL. And Skippy was the one that said the club should give him a go.

HM: Hayden was a huge part of you being picked up wasn’t he?

AMT: From the first day I arrived at Essendon, he was the person that helped me with my footy, taught me the structures. He’d write it down and say to me, “Take it home to mum and tell her what you’ve learnt”.

JM: And that was over, and over, and over, because Skippy had known right from the start that he had a learning disability.

AMT: Then the call came the day before the 2015 rookie draft, I was working, trying to explain what the AFL was to some Muslim kids. I had a phone call from Adrian saying, “Come to my office after you finish work. I want to have a chat to you”. I rang mum and said, “Adrian wants me to go in after work”.

HM: Were you nervous?

AMT: Terrified. I thought it was going to be bad news. I expected the worst, because that was going to be an easier way of dealing with it if it happened.

HM: And what happened?

AMT: I went into his office, and I saw all the cameras and I knew he was going to give me the good news.

HM: That he would take you in the rookie draft?

AMT: Yep. He said he would give me a chance. He wasn’t going to abandon me. I was going to join Essendon’s family. From that point I just knew I would be OK.

HM: What did John say to you the first day of training?

AMT: He said “There’s one spot for a rookie to get on to the main list. If you want it, it’s there, if you don’t, that’s fine”. I knew I had to work hard for it, but I wanted it, and I was going to make sure I got it.

HM: What has footy given you?

AMT: The ability to give back. I will always be the same person, and I’ll never forget how little some kids have in terms of confidence, love, and opportunity. I love helping and giving back to the kids, and make time for the young kids that we go and visit. That’s what I didn’t really have growing up, that person giving me the confidence. Giving back to the kids, that’s the most important thing for me. I didn’t want to change because I was an AFL player, I wanted kids to feel like they could follow their dreams and achieve what they wanted to achieve. I was lucky I found someone who would allow me to follow mine. If I didn’t, I have no idea what I’d be doing, but it wouldn’t be productive, and it wouldn’t be positive.

[Bomb_Doe]

PART 3

McDonald-Tipungwuti opens up on his secret battles

Hamish McLachlan, Sunday Herald Sun

13-16 minutes

Anthony McDonald-Tipungwuti overcame almost impossible odds to make it to the AFL. The abandoned boy who could hardly speak English when he arrived in Melbourne was now living his dream at Essendon.

But McDonald-Tipungwuti couldn’t outrun all the trauma from his past.

Hamish McLachlan talks with McDonald-Tipungwuti and his adopted mum Jane McDonald about their highs and crushing lows.

READ PART ONEAND TWO

HM: Jane — why did you have such belief in Anthony?

JM: I’m not sure why, but I always had that belief that he had the talent to play — we just had to find a way to find the best version of himself — body and mind. Once he said to me, “Why do you want me to do this?” And I said, “Because it would be a shame if Australia didn’t see your talent. You have talent, and you have skills, that nobody else has”. He still doesn’t play with complete confidence in himself that he can go out there and change a game.

HM: Are you still not confident in your ability?

AMT: Not really.

JM: As he was growing up, he was always put down. There was nobody to back him up, and pick him up. The legacy of that remains — he needs to be constantly reinforced that he belongs, he is capable and he is valuable.

HM: Is that true Anthony — is there still emotional scarring? Do you still lack confidence and a sense of belonging?

AMT: For me, trust is a big thing. I’ve been let down so much, that I have real trust issues. I want to be able to trust people — and not think the worst. It is a really negative way of living, it is tiring, and debilitating. The only person that I trust still is Mum.

McDonald-Tipungwuti celebrates with fans after a game. Picture: Michael Klein

HM: In all of your life, still, you only trust Jane?

AMT: Yes.

HM: That’s incredible.

JM: And that’s taken a long time.

HM: When did you start trusting Jane?

AMT: When we moved to Glenroy. My other siblings kept telling me that Mum’s the only person that’s going to be there during the tough times, and I then realised she had been, and was, and I believed always would.

JM: He found it hard because he trusted his grandma. She died, and he loved Grandma with all his heart. She was the only one that took care of him growing up, most of us have a mum, a dad, and siblings, but he only had grandma that he loved and trusted. And then she left him. He thought he couldn’t love me because it would happen again, and crush him.

AMT: Also, as Grandma was the only person that I had ever loved because of what she’d done for me, I thought if I loved somebody in that way, I thought I’d be disrespecting Grandma.

HM: When did you drop your guard, and trust Jane and accept your vulnerabilities?

AMT: It took a while. I remember I was crying at home once … … and I told Mum I loved her. Remember?

JM: I was walking up the stairs and he was on the landing, crying. He would have been 20, and I said, “Why are you crying?” And he said, “I love you”. I said, “I know you love me”. He said, “No, Mum. I really do love you”. That was a turning point for him at that stage.

HM: Had you ever told Jane you’d loved her before?

AMT: No.

HM: Is there anyone else in the world you’ve told you love?

AMT: Just Mum.

HM: No one else — ever — you’ve felt close to?

AMT: No. It takes me a long time to trust, and believe in people. I haven’t had a lot of love in my life, and haven’t really been exposed to people who care of love, so I guess I have been very wary and reserved and careful not to get myself into a situation where I can be left, or let down.

HM: Your first game in 2016. How does John tell you that it’s go time?

AMT: Because I was playing in most of the games during the pre-season, I knew I was going to play round one, but I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. Woosha came up, had a chat to me and said, “Your dream is going to come true in round one”.

McDonald-Tipungwuti with Essendon coach John Worsfold. Picture: Getty Images

HM: It was against the Suns.

AMT: I couldn’t believe it was happening. The first moment when I really felt like an AFL player was when I was standing next to Gary Ablett. He looked at me, smiled and gave me a wink. I thought “This is unreal, I’m standing next to a player I’ve idolised my whole life”. And then I realised I had to stop being a fan boy, and be an AFL player, as I was now.

HM: You’ve only missed one game since your debut?

AMT: I missed one game against the Hawks. That was the moment when I knew that fans really enjoyed watching me play. I was sitting where Hawthorn supporters were and they were asking me, “Why aren’t you playing?” I explained that I was being rested, and they said, “I’m not enjoying this game as much because you’re not playing”. They were Hawks supporters. I realised supporters from other teams wanted to watch me too!

HM: You’re obviously aware now of how admired, and loved you are by the football public? It’s real.

AMT: It’s real, but for me, nothing has changed.

HM: Your life seems in a good spot now. Do you wear a small cross under your wrist every game?

AMT: Yep. Every game.

HM: Did you find God at Chairo, or back on the Island?

AMT: Most of my family was Christian. I’d go to Church and have Christian friends, but it was really when we moved to Glenroy. We went to a church just around the corner, and I felt in my heart that I had to change certain things. God was talking to me, and I felt I needed to trust in him. At that point I gave my life to god, and the whole time he was with me, ever since Grandma died. It’s one of those things where I wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for God.

HM: Wouldn’t have been where?

AMT: I think I might have done something bad to myself. Yeah. I had a lot of bad thoughts. Suicidal thoughts.

HM: Really?

AMT: Yeah. I have always felt a lot of pressure. Moving from Tiwi. Trying to make it in the VFL. Then the AFL. And there was a lot of pressure from up north to go home.

HM: In what way?

AMT: I had phone calls from back home, saying, “you need to come back and start working”.

HM: Who was calling you?

AMT: My biological mum, and my aunties. The only time they rang was when they were at the pub, drinking. That was the only time they would ring because they were drunk. They would get drunk and say things that really affected me and made me question everything about my life, who I was, where I had come from, and what I should be doing.

McDonald-Tipungwuti’s love for his mum and family help him through his lowest moments. Picture: AFL Media

HM: And you went to a dark place as a result?

AMT: Yeah, I did. I was lost again. It was hard on me, and hard on Mum at the same time. I didn’t want to bring all this darkness on to her. I couldn’t do it to someone that I really loved, so I thought it would be better to end it all?

JM: It all seem to just mount and mount. If they rang him while he was in bed, I’d never wake him up and tell him they had rung. I’d always say, “Look, I’ll tell him you called” but it got to the point where Nola was accusing me of stealing him. He was over 18. I said, “It’s his decision. He is making his own decisions”. To lay in the bed next to your son, with your hands in between him and a tie wrapped around his neck is pretty horrific.

HM: Walla, have you actually tried to take your own life?

AMT: Yeah. I did. I thought it was the easiest way to make everything go away.

HM: I had absolutely no idea.

AMT: Yeah. No one does. About a week after I had tried, Mum said, “If you do end it all, you’re going to leave this big hole in me, and your family, your sister. You will hurt all the people that love you”. That’s when it hit me. I was loved. People cared for me. That was enough. It’s easy for me to go and take my own life, but I’m going to hurt a lot of people. My sister rang me too and she reinforced things. “Don’t you go and do anything stupid. Go and sit at the park, clear your mind, then go back home and give mum a hug”.

HM: Because of the weight, and the pressure to go home, you honestly thought it was going to be better to take your own life, than have to go home and bear life there?

AMT: Yep.

HM: When was the last time you had suicidal thoughts?

AMT: Indigenous Round is hard, because all the thoughts come back, and you’ve got to get yourself out of the dark days. Things that I went through on the Island, the thoughts come back.

HM: That recently?

AMT: Yes, but I’m in a really good space now.

HM: Do you feel there is a feeling of resentment from home that you’ve left them?

AMT: Yeah. They think I’m a white man now. They all think that I’ve abandoned them.

HM: Is that what they say?

AMT: Yeah.

HM: It’s almost like, your success, and your hard work, is resented.

AMT: Yeah. They think I think I’m above them.

HM: How sad your success isn’t enjoyed and celebrated.

AMT: That’s the most disappointing thing, having your own people not celebrating the success of somebody from your island making something for himself, and making a future for kids like myself.

JM: Those two little boys, CK and Anthony, that came down, one stayed down and got an education and became an AFL footballer. The other, CK almost had as much talent as Anthony, went back and he was a hunter, a fisherman, the real cultural man. He committed suicide twelve months ago. It’s a real issue, but people don’t talk about it enough.

HM: Anthony, what’s the reason that you think people end their life?

AMT: Pressure. A feeling of pressure and having no one to talk to. The only people were us, and a fella named Joel Price that CK felt he could talk to. He was from Albury, the guy that really helped him and made a better life for him. But Joel couldn’t do anything from down here. CK didn’t have somebody to help him. To show him a way forward.

HM: How do we help people like CK, and you, Anthony, in your darkest times?

AMT: I think we need to remember, we are all one people. We all look a bit different, but we are all just people. We need to wrap our arms around each other, always look out for each other, and understand how much you can help someone with a kind gesture. A kind word. A feed. A bed. A job. A hug. A smile. There are a lot of people suffering every day — think about how can you help them? Little things are huge things. Little things can change so much.

HM: Do you want to go home to Tiwi?

AMT: Not at this point. I’ve been called the first Tiwi person to ever leave his mum for a white mum. That was the most hurtful to hear.

HM: Do they not understand on what terms you were abandoned, and how many years you were alone?

AMT: They don’t care.

HM: Have you told your story before?

AMT: No, but I wanted to so it will help people. A lot of kids go through the things that I’ve gone through. They need to know it is OK, and to talk, reach out for help. Don’t do anything silly.

The AFL’s annual indigenous round was a tough week for McDonald-Tipungwuti. Picture: Mark Wilson

HM: There was never any reluctance from your mother for you to leave, was there? She wasn’t trying to keep you?

AMT: No — she wasn’t fussed that I left.

HM: She was happy for you to leave?

JM: When he was expelled from Tiwi College, I went and saw Nola and his aunties, and they said, “he’s yours — you deal with it”.

JM: I dealt with it and made him go to the other school in Tiwi.

HM: When did you sense you those at home were upset with you?

AMT: When I turned 18, I had a phone call from back home. “You’re turning 18 now, come home and work”. All they wanted was for me to make money for them to buy them drink or smokes.

HM: Do you speak to Nola — your biological mum anymore?

AMT: Not really, no. I went to go and talk to her to clear it all up. To tell her what I was doing and why. We spoke, and then I came back here. I’m happy where I am, Jane is my mum, and she’s always going to be my mum.

HM: How was that confrontation with Nola?

AMT: She took it really well, and she said, “I understand it. She is your mum, I haven’t been your mum for your whole life”.

HM: You seem at ease with where it is at.

AMT: I am. Nola acknowledged that she wasn’t there for me, and that it was good for me to be here. For her, personally, she accepted all that, but the others, my cousins, sisters, sometimes my brothers push her too much to get me back. She’s not drinking as much any more either, which helps. I’ve told her she needs to move on with her own life and not be worried about me. She’s got a lot of grandkids herself that she needs to worry about. Live her best life, not worry about me. I’m happy, I’m settled, and every day is getting easier.

HM: That’s great to hear. Long may it continue. What’s your 2km time trial these days?

AMT: Always under seven. Six minutes 25 seconds is my best!

HM: Walla, you’re an AFL star … it’s a long way from bare feet, coke bottles for a footy and an empty stomach!

AMT: It’s a long way. I can’t believe where I started, where I am now and how much opportunity I have. I just want to let people know that they should all feel valued. Don’t look down on yourself, and don’t feel there is no way out. There is. Just talk to people — and see if they can help you find the way.

HM: I feel privileged you’ve told me some of your story. Thank you.

AMT: No worries, thank you. Thanks for coming.

HM: Thanks Jane.

JM: Thanks, Hamish.

[Jezz]

Thanks for posting Doe - I’m completely lost for words, just incredible.

[Killerboots-man]

That is absolutely beautiful and heartbreaking. What a truly amazing young man, I have no words that could possibly do him justice.

[Speedy_Gonzales]

Unbelievable story.

Heartbreaking that he’s not celebrated for what he’s achieved by his own people. And also for the suicidal thoughts he’d battled through.