Working towards an Australian First Nations periodic table

‘I have a dream of walking into a chemistry lecture theatre and seeing two periodic tables – the traditional one and a periodic table in the language of the Gadigal whose land we teach on,’ says Anthony Masters, a chemistry professor at the University of Sydney in Australia. The Gadigal are one of over 400 different Aboriginal communities in Australia and the Torres Straight Islands that have their own distinct set of languages, histories and traditions. Masters has pulled together a team of Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal scholars to investigate what an Indigenous periodic table might look like. Together, the multidisciplinary team aims to organise the elements in a format that represents the relationships between them based on Indigenous knowledge.

Repositioning Indigenous science

One team member is Jakelin Troy, a Ngarigu woman from the Snowy Mountains of New South Wales who is a linguistics professor at the University of Sydney. ‘So-called western chemistry has really come from Indigenous knowledge about the natural world,’ says Troy. She explains that Indigenous communities feel that their knowledge is often dismissed as being unscientific, because it wasn’t acquired through a university degree or in a laboratory. ‘We [Indigenous people] understand chemistry as something that is deeply connected to us as people. I think that’s at the core of Indigenous science,’ says Troy.

In reality, Aboriginal people developed their own knowledge of the chemical elements and their compounds. This includes uranium in its mineral form, which they called sickness rocks because they were aware that mishandling them could cause illness. Moreover, Aboriginal Australians have been using the iron oxide-based pigment ochre for at least 50,000 years. Historically, it had economic value, being traded between different tribes, but it also remains central to several cultural practices including body painting and decorating sacred objects. ‘Ochre is used as a pigment, and it can be formed into different colours – which is material science. It can be used as a disinfectant, as a sunscreen. A lot of these things are to do with its interaction with light,’ explains Masters who uses these examples to teach his undergraduate students about attributing knowledge to the Indigenous community.

When the British invaded Australia in 1788, the associated massacres, starvation, new diseases, loss of land and breaking up of families supressed, and in some cases destroyed, much Indigenous culture and knowledge.

Renewing knowledge

The idea to develop an Indigenous periodic table arose because Masters started looking into how language influences our understanding of chemical knowledge and how chemistry is taught at Australian universities. ‘How do you know that oxygen and sulfur have similar properties? You can’t tell from the names,’ says Masters. Regarding palladium, he points out there is little to no value in an Indigenous student learning about an element named after an asteroid, which in turn was named after a Greek goddess. And what about neon, which William Ramsay named after the Greek word for new, but it’s hardly new after 120 years. Instead, Masters wants Indigenous Australian students to grow up with a periodic table in their language, just as it exists in other languages around the world.

Masters therefore reached out to Troy, as well as several other academics including Cameron Davison a Gadigal language knowledge-holder, who is very interested in natural science, and Janelle Evans, an artist and descendant of the Dharug peoples of Western Sydney, who lectures on critical and arts theories.

Troy explains the team’s first step was to ask the Sydney Mob – which encompasses over 29 Indigenous communities based in the Sydney region – if an Australian First Nations periodic table was something they would be interested in. They were. And so began the delicate process of establishing what scientific understanding of the elements is inherent in Aboriginal Australian knowledge systems.

Deep listening

Being mindful of and engaging with Aboriginal culture is central to the project, and face-to-face consultations are the preferred medium of meeting in Indigenous communities. So, the team has started the process of yarning – an Indigenous practice of sharing knowledge through conversations – with elders from the Gadigal clan. ‘The idea of yarning is that you give people a chance to talk and then you consider what they talk about. And then you respectfully engage with what they’ve been talking about,’ explains Troy. This means the project is developing slowly as yarning can take a very long time, with no expectations or pressure on the Indigenous people to immediately embrace the project. They are still planning yarning workshops (at the time of publishing) to continue engagement with as many of the community as they can.

The meetings and conversations, which have already been under way for two years, have confirmed the project is worthwhile. So far, the team notes that the Gadigal spoken to in initial meetings like how the traditional periodic table combines nomenclature from Latin and Greek, as well as Arabic and Anglo-Saxon, but this is subject to change as more community members are consulted. ‘Some of the elements are named after people. Some are named after their qualities. But it is quite inconsistent,’ says Troy. They are therefore looking for a consistent style in the Gadigal language that might work and considering the relationship between the elements in the understanding of local knowledge holders. One idea is to group together elements that are part of daily life, elements that hold a special place in ceremony and elements that are avoided.

We [Indigenous people] understand chemistry as something that is deeply connected to us as people

It’s important to understand that the team doesn’t intend for an Indigenous periodic table to be a direct translation of the traditional periodic table because that could end up erasing rather than celebrating Indigenous knowledge. And it might not necessarily look like a table. Rather they’re aiming to represent the elements in a chart that also reflects Indigenous understanding concerning how an element connects to the lands, water and skies on which the First Nations people live. ‘We have to translate the concept culturally,’ says Tory, using a First Nations approach. Strategies the team is investigating include, but are not limited to, using Indigenous language to express a unique characteristic of an element or using Indigenous language to express the etymology of the English term. However, the most important factor is that the choice is made by the Indigenous community to suit their cultural and ideological foundations.

There is no timeline for when the team might complete its first Indigenous periodic table, but the team has begun developing a methodology to move the project forward. Part of that includes creating a blueprint that other Aboriginal groups can adapt and use themselves to document the elements and the relationships between them. With over 400 languages in Australia, each element may have a different meaning. ‘It’s in that spirit that the Periodic table is an obvious example. There are different ways of looking at things. And for me, that’s one of the beauties of [chemistry],’ concludes Masters.