'The story of an Aboriginal woman who worked as a police officer and fought for justice both within and beyond the Australian police force.
'A proud Kurnai woman, Veronica Gorrie grew up dauntless, full of cheek and a fierce sense of justice. After watching her friends and family suffer under a deeply compromised law-enforcement system, Gorrie signed up for training to become one of a rare few Aboriginal police officers in Australia. In her ten years in the force, she witnessed appalling institutional racism and sexism, and fought past those things to provide courageous and compassionate service to civilians in need, many Aboriginal themselves.
'With a great gift for storytelling and a wicked sense of humour, Gorrie frankly and movingly explores the impact of racism on her family and her life, the impact of intergenerational trauma resulting from cultural dispossession, and the inevitable difficulties of making her way as an Aboriginal woman in the white-and-male-dominated workplace of the police force.
'Black and Blue is a memoir of remarkable fortitude and resilience, told with wit, wisdom, and great heart.' (Publication summary)
'I was going to start this book review with a confession. I wanted to confess to you the reader, that I had already decided that I would love this book before I had even read it. Not because Black and Blue had just taken out one of Australia’s most prestigious literary accolades, the Victorian Prize for Literature, as well as the Prize for Indigenous Writing, but because I love Ronnie and her family. I think the world of all of them and figured I would love every single word that Veronica Gorrie wrote. Add to that, I hate cops, and every other agent of the carceral state. So, it was only natural that I would relish reading what I imagined would be an exposé of Ronnie’s time in the force: exposing the levels of racism, corruption and sheer arrogance of the institution of policing. But as it turns out, this review of Veronica’s memoir won’t be starting out as a confession to you, dear reader, but rather to Ronnie, and to be honest, I’m a little nervous.' (Introduction)
'Forty ways of looking at Veronica Gorrie’s Black and Blue'
'Aunty Ronnie is a Kurnai and Gunditjmara woman. She is also a mother of three, a grandmother of two, and one of Australia’s most underrated comedians. Black and Blue, her autobiography, is an enthralling book set primarily in three places: Bung Yarnda, Morwell (Black), and the Queensland Police Service (Blue), where Aunty Ronnie served as a member for ten years. The title is a play on the old saying ‘black and blue’, which commonly refers to someone covered in bruises.' (Introduction)
'Veronica Gorrie joined the force to ‘break the cycle of fear’ she grew up with. By the time she left, she was carrying additional burdens.'
'Aunty Ronnie is a Kurnai and Gunditjmara woman. She is also a mother of three, a grandmother of two, and one of Australia’s most underrated comedians. Black and Blue, her autobiography, is an enthralling book set primarily in three places: Bung Yarnda, Morwell (Black), and the Queensland Police Service (Blue), where Aunty Ronnie served as a member for ten years. The title is a play on the old saying ‘black and blue’, which commonly refers to someone covered in bruises.' (Introduction)
'I was going to start this book review with a confession. I wanted to confess to you the reader, that I had already decided that I would love this book before I had even read it. Not because Black and Blue had just taken out one of Australia’s most prestigious literary accolades, the Victorian Prize for Literature, as well as the Prize for Indigenous Writing, but because I love Ronnie and her family. I think the world of all of them and figured I would love every single word that Veronica Gorrie wrote. Add to that, I hate cops, and every other agent of the carceral state. So, it was only natural that I would relish reading what I imagined would be an exposé of Ronnie’s time in the force: exposing the levels of racism, corruption and sheer arrogance of the institution of policing. But as it turns out, this review of Veronica’s memoir won’t be starting out as a confession to you, dear reader, but rather to Ronnie, and to be honest, I’m a little nervous.' (Introduction)
'Forty ways of looking at Veronica Gorrie’s Black and Blue'
