Uploaded June 2026 | Updated September 2026, 2 weeks ago
In today’s episode of Friday Focus, we’ll look at “Free” Dress or: How to Force Children to Celebrate NAIDOC Week.
My primary school-aged daughter came home from school yesterday saying that today, as the last day of term, would be a so-called “free dress” day. That is, children can wear their own casual clothing instead of the standard uniform. It’s fairly standard practice, I suppose. However, as NAIDOC Week falls over the upcoming school holidays, the school, in its infinite wisdom, decided to bring forward its celebrations to today. Mind you, this comes hot on the heels of National Reconciliation Week, which we only just finished celebrating.
Now, personally, I don’t care if they want to teach children about this. Just as if they wanted to teach children about any historical or political movement, it doesn’t bother me. Knowledge is power, right?
However, for a “free dress” day that coincides with NAIDOC Week, the powers that be at the school decided to enforce a few strict rules on the students:
1. Students must wear Aboriginal colours—black, red, and yellow—to match the Aboriginal flag.
2. Children must bring a gold coin donation to “help disadvantaged Aboriginal children.”
Now, I don’t mean to be pedantic, but how is this “free dress” in any sense of the word? The students must wear specific colours? That’s not freedom; that’s compulsion.
Secondly, they must bring a gold coin “donation.” Sorry school, but a donation, by definition, is voluntary. The moment it becomes mandatory, it’s no longer a donation—it’s a levy. Or a tax. My son, who is in high school, jokingly calls it “fee dress.” Quite clever, I think.
Not to mention that the money goes exclusively to “disadvantaged Aboriginal children.” What about disadvantaged non-Indigenous children? This is blatant favouritism—if not outright racial division.
While the school claims they are teaching children about Aboriginal culture, they are in fact—and I don’t think this is too strong a word—indoctrinating them. They are, whether inadvertently or deliberately, teaching children that Aboriginal people are fundamentally different from the rest of Australians and require financial charity by default.
Case in point: I’m quite friendly with an Aboriginal mother at the school, and she is not disadvantaged in any way. She drives a Land Rover. Okay, it’s not a brand-new one, but still, they aren’t cheap. To be fair, although it’s a state school, it’s in a well-off neighbourhood. Nobody is truly disadvantaged at this school. If they are, it’s strictly a “First World” disadvantage—the “we can’t afford a second car” type of struggle.
Anyway, my daughter didn’t fall for it. I am very hands-off and objective with my children; I let them form their own opinions and don’t try to sway them. If she had wanted to wear the colours, I would have let her.
But her exact words were: “If I have to wear Aboriginal colours and make a donation, that’s not free dress.” True to her word, she chose to go to school today in her regular uniform.
But more pointedly, she added: “NAIDOC Week is boring.”
Well, I'll leave it up to you to decide whether she has a point.
MUSIC
Allégro by Emmit Fenn
In today’s episode of Friday Focus, we’ll look at “Free” Dress or: How to Force Children to Celebrate NAIDOC Week.
My primary school-aged daughter came home from school yesterday saying that today, as the last day of term, would be a so-called “free dress” day. That is, children can wear their own casual clothing instead of the standard uniform. It’s fairly standard practice, I suppose. However, as NAIDOC Week falls over the upcoming school holidays, the school, in its infinite wisdom, decided to bring forward its celebrations to today. Mind you, this comes hot on the heels of National Reconciliation Week, which we only just finished celebrating.
Now, personally, I don’t care if they want to teach children about this. Just as if they wanted to teach children about any historical or political movement, it doesn’t bother me. Knowledge is power, right?
However, for a “free dress” day that coincides with NAIDOC Week, the powers that be at the school decided to enforce a few strict rules on the students:
1. Students must wear Aboriginal colours—black, red, and yellow—to match the Aboriginal flag.
2. Children must bring a gold coin donation to “help disadvantaged Aboriginal children.”
Now, I don’t mean to be pedantic, but how is this “free dress” in any sense of the word? The students must wear specific colours? That’s not freedom; that’s compulsion.
Secondly, they must bring a gold coin “donation.” Sorry school, but a donation, by definition, is voluntary. The moment it becomes mandatory, it’s no longer a donation—it’s a levy. Or a tax. My son, who is in high school, jokingly calls it “fee dress.” Quite clever, I think.
Not to mention that the money goes exclusively to “disadvantaged Aboriginal children.” What about disadvantaged non-Indigenous children? This is blatant favouritism—if not outright racial division.
While the school claims they are teaching children about Aboriginal culture, they are in fact—and I don’t think this is too strong a word—indoctrinating them. They are, whether inadvertently or deliberately, teaching children that Aboriginal people are fundamentally different from the rest of Australians and require financial charity by default.
Case in point: I’m quite friendly with an Aboriginal mother at the school, and she is not disadvantaged in any way. She drives a Land Rover. Okay, it’s not a brand-new one, but still, they aren’t cheap. To be fair, although it’s a state school, it’s in a well-off neighbourhood. Nobody is truly disadvantaged at this school. If they are, it’s strictly a “First World” disadvantage—the “we can’t afford a second car” type of struggle.
Anyway, my daughter didn’t fall for it. I am very hands-off and objective with my children; I let them form their own opinions and don’t try to sway them. If she had wanted to wear the colours, I would have let her.
But her exact words were: “If I have to wear Aboriginal colours and make a donation, that’s not free dress.” True to her word, she chose to go to school today in her regular uniform.
But more pointedly, she added: “NAIDOC Week is boring.”
Well, I'll leave it up to you to decide whether she has a point.
MUSIC
Allégro by Emmit Fenn
