DEAR SON Education Resource

Education resources offer insights and connections into selected Queensland Theatre productions through a curriculum and learning lens and promote the transformative power of live performance for young people.

Spanning creation, rehearsal and performance phases and bringing Cast and Creatives from rehearsal rooms directly into classrooms through digital media we share innovative, industry led theatre practice to inspire classroom pedagogy and learning.

For more information on the Dear Son Education resources, please contact our Education and Young People team at education@queenslandtheatre.com.au.

DEAR SON

Letters and reflections from First Nations fathers and sons

Based on the book by Thomas Mayo

Adapted by Isaac Drandic and John Harvey
Directed by Isaac Drandic

A world premiere featuring powerful letters of love, hope and healing from First Nations fathers and sons.

Queensland Theatre acknowledges the Jagera and Turrbal people who are the Traditional Custodians of the land on which we work, and their unique relationship with the lands, seas and waterways. We pay our respects to their Elders both past and present, and to all Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

Table of Contents

• Writing Between Generations - Bloodline on Stage, Isaac Drandic, Dear Son Director and Co-Adaptor and Head of First Nations Theatre at Queensland Theatre
• A note from John Harvey
• Insights from the Dear Son Rehearsal Room
• Digital Masterclass: The Story and Philosophy of The Koom with Dear Son Director and Co-Adaptor, Isaac Drandic
• Curriculum Connections
• In-Depth Content Advisories
• Research Task – The 12 Contributors to Dear Son Letters and Reflections from First Nations Fathers and Sons by Thomas Mayo
• Photo Gallery – Dear Son Cast in Rehearsal with Director and Co-Adaptor, Isaac Drandic
• Video Features:
  Masculinity and its significance in Dear Son with Director and Co-Adaptor Isaac Drandic and the Cast of Dear Son
  A Memory of Him – with the Cast of Dear Son and Dear Son Director and Co-Adaptor, Isaac Drandic
• Drama General senior syllabus 2025 – UNIT 1: SHARE - Storytelling
• Drama General senior syllabus 2025 – UNIT 3: CHALLENGE – Theatre of Social Comment (Contemporary Political Theatre)
• Isaac Drandic on Dear Son: Crafting a Theatrical Love Letter to First Nations Men
• Creative Statements from the Dear Son Design Team
• Dear Son from Page to Stage: Witness the Co-Adaptation Firsthand

Writing Between Generations – Bloodlines on Stage by Isaac Drandic

"In many First Nations cultures, knowledge is passed not just through speech, but through story, silence, and gesture. But sometimes, when the words are too heavy to say out loud, we turn to paper. To write is not only to remember — it is to resist, to reclaim, and to reach across generations.”

This story holds a letter that is not yet spoken. A letter from a son to his father. From a father to his son. A radical act of love written in a time of struggle. A letter that does not seek to fix what’s broken but to understand where the break began.

To write in this way — from a Black man to his old man, and to his boy — is to thread truth through bloodlines. It is to say: I see you. I come from you. I fight for you. This is not just a letter. It is a song without music. A protest without shouting. A story that moves between ring and fire, between pride and pain.

But this production is more than a play — it is a gathering of story, spirit, and memory. At its heart is a conversation between a father and a son. But that conversation does not live only on the page or the stage. It lives in the hearts and histories of the men telling it.

Each actor in this production is, in their own life, a father, a son, or both. They carry with them not just a script, but real memories of their old men, their boys, their uncles and pops. They walk into this work with the weight of lived experience — the kind of experience that can’t be taught in drama school, only lived and felt. To perform this story — one that cuts so close to the bone — takes courage. Not just artistic courage, but cultural and emotional courage. These men step onto this stage not to pretend, but to reveal. They allow the audience to witness something raw and rarely shared: the complexity of love between Black men. The silence, the shame, the pride, the distance — and the deep, unspoken knowing.

They are not just playing characters. They are standing in a long line of warriors and workers, of fathers who did their best with what they had, and sons who are trying to do better. This work is an offering. A ceremony. A letter back in time and forward again.

And through their performances, they remind us: the most radical thing we can do is love our fathers, love our sons, and find new ways to speak the truth between us. In this space, we invite you to listen not only with your ears, but with your spirit. The words may not be your own, but the ache — the longing to be understood, to be seen — that is something we all carry.

With love and respect.

— Isaac
Dear Son Director and Co-Adaptor and Head of First Nations Theatre at Queensland Theatre

A note from John Harvey

There’s a saying – men don’t talk.

Or rather, we don’t ‘talk talk’.

We talk about footy, cars, politics.

Anything, but what’s really going on inside.”

And that’s okay, until you think that for all our silence, men take up a lot of space in this world. We lead companies. We lead communities. We lead countries. And yet, we remain painfully aware of toxic masculinity, violence against women, damage in our communities – even as the statistics refuse to shift.

The door to change has often felt closed or like a wound that won’t heal. In these letters of Dear Son, thirteen brave Indigenous men invite us into their intimate relationship with their sons and fathers – and asks us to sit with vulnerability, truth and love.

The process of creating this work brought together Indigenous men - actors, director, writers into a room, drawn together by the book Dear Son. But as we began to speak about the letters, something shifted and we began to speak about our own personal lives. Stories we hadn’t shared before. Not because we didn’t trust each other – we’ve known each other for years – but because so often, as men, we carry things in silence. The book gave us permission to speak what had long been unspoken.

We felt the power of Dear Son immediately. It opened something in us – a space to share emotion, vulnerability and challenge. And that’s the spirit that shapes this stage adaptation.

Our outer worlds, reflect our inner worlds. The world that we are trying to create – safe, kind, connected – begins when we unlock the world within. As Bob Marley’s words remind us, echoing in the Cook Haus gatherings and backyard BBQs across our communities: “emancipate yourself from mental slavery, none but ourselves can free our mind.” There is no end point, no destination, simply a journey.

And we are sons of mothers, who knew our fathers, and brought us into this world, who gave us life, and loved us. Whose soft touch endured even when the world was against them, who put others before themselves. We are fathers of sons, and daughters who look to us to understand what a good man looks like. We have wives, partners and loved ones whose strength and love keeps the home fires burning, so that we can carry this story. We are thankful for all that you are, and all that you do.

We thank the actors, creatives and everyone from the villages of Queensland Theatre and State Theatre Company of South Australia who came together to tell this story. And the financial partners who stand with us to tell this story, we thank you. As co-writers, we’re fathers, who lived across the road from each other – on the same street, with babies born on the same day. And there we were, wheelie bins in one hand, babies in the other, never imagining how much those little ones and our older ones - would shape us in ways we couldn’t yet understand.

— John
Dear Son Co-Adaptor

INSIGHTS FROM THE DEAR SON REHEARSAL ROOM

"The ‘Koom’ is a forked stick that holds a banana tree up when the fruit gets really, really heavy, and so, it requires a collection of people. In the rehearsal room because we’re dealing and working with content that’s really quite personal, can be quite challenging, we take the same philosophy, we take the same approach of that forked stick, the Koom, and we apply it to our process."

— Isaac Drandic
Dear Son Director and Co-Adaptor

REFLECT: How do or could you apply the story and philosophy of The Koom to your family, friendship group, neighbourhood, wider school and community?

CURRICULUM CONNECTIONS

Through story and song, Dear Son is a landmark Australian work that honours the rich traditions and wisdoms of fathers passed down through generations, whilst exploring the challenges faced by First Nations men today. In this hand-penned message of resilience and joy for our First Nations future, witness the importance of family, the power of culture and the enduring strength of the human spirit.

LIST OF CURRICULUM CONNECTIONS

• Drama General senior syllabus 2025 - Unit 1: SHARE – Storytelling begins with a focus on Australian voices and experiences, including those of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, and/or those from the Asia-Pacific region
• Drama General senior syllabus 2025 - Unit 3: CHALLENGE – Theatre of Social Comment (Contemporary Political Theatre).
• Drama in Practice – Unit Option A: Collaboration; Unit Option C: Contemporary; Unit Option D: Commentary

• English (Years 9-10 & English General senior syllabus, English as an Additional Language General senior syllabus 2025, Essential English Applied senior syllabus 2025) – Dear Son is a co-adaptation of the Thomas Mayo book of the same title, which contains letters and reflections from First Nations Fathers and Sons
• The Foreword in Dear Son is by The Yield author Tara June Wench. The Yield is on the Prescribed English text list in 2026, 2027

• ACiQ V.9 The Arts – Years 9-10 Band (Drama) - Australian Identity
• ACiQ V.9 The Arts Years 7-8 and 9-10 Band (Drama) - Exploring and responding, Developing practices and skills.
• ACiQ V.9 Cross-curriculum priorities: Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Histories and Cultures.
• Additionally: Dance, Media, Music, Humanities (Geography, History), Ancient and Modern History

PURPOSE & CONTEXT

PERFORMANCE STYLE

Contemporary Indigenous Theatre

“Contemporary Indigenous Theatre is theatre made by First Nations artists regardless of the form and style of their work. As with many other contemporary theatre forms, Contemporary Indigenous Theatre is otherwise eclectic in its influences and conventions.”

— Bell-Wykes, Forgasz and Hradsky (2020)
Teaching First Nations Content and Concepts in the Drama Classroom, p. 38

Additional information on Contemporary Indigenous Theatre:

• Contemporary Indigenous Theatre is produced by First Nations artists for First Nations and non-Indigenous audiences. While it may incorporate or reference traditional songs, dances, music and stories, it is just as likely to tell contemporary stories through contemporary performance practices and cutting-edge theatre technologies.
• First Nations histories are complex and multifaceted, beginning tens of thousands of years ago with pre-Invasion ancient history and continuing on to the post-Invasion modern history we are living and writing today. Drama can be a powerful way to explore these histories with your students. First Nations cultures are ancient, contemporary, complex and constantly evolving.

Bell-Wykes, Forgasz and Hradsky (2020), Teaching First Nations Content and Concepts in the Drama Classroom, p. 13

Theatre of Social Comment - refers to dramatic styles that are united by social commentary, and that question their world and advocate change, e.g. Contemporary Political Theatre, Epic Theatre

Associated theatrical conventions in Dear Son include but are not limited to:

• First Nations traditional and contemporary songs, dance, music and stories

“Song has always been married with movement and dance as a way of sharing knowledge and story in our culture, and continues to in this contemporary format.” Dear Son, Choreography and Movement Director and Cast Member, Waangenga Blanco

• Episodic structure
• Chorus
• Retellings - Letters
• Unison
• Motif
• Allegory
• Hybridity
• Monologue
• Soliloquy
• Direct Address
• Comedic timing and exaggeration
• Parallel action
• Montage
• Juxtaposition
• Gestural movement
• Mirrored movement
• Poetic image

THEMES, IDEAS & CONCEPTS

Fatherhood and Masculinity: Exploration of what it means to be a father and a man, challenging toxic masculinity. Diverse expressions of Indigenous fatherhood.

Intergenerational Trauma and Healing: Addressing the inherited pain of colonisation, Stolen Generations, racism, and the struggle for healing through cultural continuity.

Cultural Identity and Connection to Country: Celebrating First Nations heritage, language, and cultural practices as sources of strength.

Truth-telling and Vulnerability: The courage to share personal truths through letters, breaking cycles of silence, and how to model emotional openness.

Legacy and Guidance: What fathers wish to leave behind for their sons— wisdom, culture, and unconditional love.

IN-DEPTH CONTENT ADVISORIES

Educators may find the Spoiler Sheet document useful in preparing students for some of the culturally sensitive content in Dear Son.

Below is the Scene Breakdown Spoiler Sheet. Please note some changes to technical elements of the production may be subject to change.

ABOUT THE PRODUCTION DEAR SON

This play is an episodic collection of stories; retellings of real letters written by real Indigenous Dads to their fathers and sons. These are retold by a cast of five men who embody these storytellers, their reflections and memories.

These men meet at a ‘cook haus,’ a traditional place of gathering, sharing of food and time together – a familiar setting for these men. Their costumes are simple and realistic. Their storytelling is punctuated by projection, theatrical lighting and sound.

Scene by Scene

ACT I – Letters of Longing Scene

1: He Tried to Take My Hand

Men gather at a traditional public space called the Cook Haus after a storm where a MAN struggles to write a letter to his son, remembering a painful moment when he rejected affection. The men support him, leading to reflections on fatherhood, missed chances, and personal failings.

Scene 2: Dreams of My Childhood

A MAN recalls growing up without his father and his vow to break that cycle. He sings “Some Days” by Troy Cassar-Daley, celebrating his commitment to love, family, and partnership.

Scene 3: I Think of You, My Sons

A MAN shares cultural memories and rites of passage, drawing on his Islander heritage. The metaphor of the arrowhead bird, Yathai kuik, illustrates leadership and responsibility among siblings and future generations.

Scene 4: Scars of Survival

A MAN confronts his father’s mortality and trauma. Despite the scars from colonisation, boxing, and emotional suppression, his father’s legacy lives on through the survival of Wiradjuri language and culture.

Scene 5: Shorts and Thongs

A MAN recounts a wild, emotionally charged road trip to say goodbye to his Uncle. The journey veers into dark comedy (a mistaken home invasion) and heartfelt reflection about time, connection, and father-son bonds.

Scene 6: The Greatest Love Story Ever Told

A MAN remembers his father’s epic bike ride across Australia and how he fell in love with an Aboriginal woman. It’s a whimsical yet tender story about legacy, love, and admiration.

Scene 7: Letters on the Tree

The men reflect on the purpose of the letters: transforming the clay of the past into a future gift. They attach their letters to a symbolic “ever-listening” tree and sing “Windradyne” by Troy Cassar-Daley – the story of a Wiradjuri warrior.

ACT II – Letters of Loss Scene 8:

Perhaps in Heaven A MAN reflects on his father’s life, his blue eyes, their complicated relationship, and a powerful scene with a metallic-green station wagon. Affection was taboo, but love was evident. He hangs his letter on the tree.

Scene 9: The Talk

A MAN comes out as gay to his son. To his surprise, his son accepts it without issue. This unlocks a deep honesty among the group and opens space for broader discussions of identity and self-love.

Scene 10: Keep Loving Mate

A MAN, a former NRL player and boxer, recounts his battle with alcoholism and the loss of his family. He stages a brutal metaphorical boxing match with his inner demons, eventually rising from the mat to pursue healing and love.

Scene 11: Somehow the Sun Was Off Centre

A MAN washes his father’s feet in death, recalls a defiant Mabo-related incident at a footy game, and a tree that embodied his father's spirit. The story blends humour and grief with reverence.

Scene 12: A Single Image

A MAN speaks of losing his mother while holding his baby. He reflects on systemic racism, abuse at the Don Dale Youth Detention Centre, the Northern Territory Intervention, and how media images dehumanise Blak fathers. A powerful indictment of how stereotypes injure families.

Scene 13: It Spread Like Wildfire

A deeply emotional testimony of Stolen Generations trauma, cultural survival, and resistance through the viral #IndigenousDads campaign—a defiant reclaiming of identity and fatherhood in the face of vilification. Real social media posts and photographs are projected across the entire stage signifying the scale and spread of this powerful moment.

ACT III – Letters of Love Scene 14: Heart of the Community

The men share their real names and hopes for their children. Jimi Bani, Waangenga Blanco, Trevor Jamieson, Kirk Page and Aaron Pedersen deliver moving declarations. They speak of language, connection, blended families, and the strength of their legacies. END.

RESEARCH TASK

Research the 12 contributors to Dear Son, Letters and reflections from First Nations fathers and sons, by Thomas Mayo:

Stan Grant

Troy Casser-Daley

Yessie Mosby

Charlie King

Blak Douglas

Daniel Morrison

Jack Latimore

Joel Bayliss

Johnny Liddle

Joe William

Daniel James

Tim Sculthorpe

PHOTO GALLERY: DEAR SON CAST IN REHEARSAL WITH DIRECTOR AND CO-ADAPTOR, ISAAC DRANDIC

“They are not just playing characters. They are standing in a long line of warriors and workers, of fathers who did their best with what they had, and sons who are trying to do better. This work is an offering. A ceremony. A letter back in time and forward again.”

— Isaac Drandic
Dear Son Director and Co-Adaptor

CONSIDER AND DISCUSS this statement in relation to the actors in the production depicting the real-life contributors of Dear Son.

VIDEO FEATURE

"The significance of bringing these letters and these stories to the stage now is that we as men have to be able to talk about what’s going on for us. For too long I think, we’ve been told that it’s not manly or it’s not masculine to speak about your feelings."

— Isaac Drandic
Dear Son Director and Co-Adaptor

CONSIDER AND DISCUSS this statement, also in relation to the below video features on masculinity and memory.

ISAAC DRANDIC ON DEAR SON: Crafting a Theatrical Love Letter to First Nations Men

News Article in The Scoop: Isaac Drandic on Dear Son: Crafting a Theatrical Love Letter to First Nations Men • The Scoop

Dear Son is such a personal and powerful collection of stories. What drew you to adapt it for the stage?

There’s a defiance that is implied in these letters in regards to reclaiming and shifting the image of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander men. Through these acts of writing these letters to our sons, and some to our fathers, there’s a responsibility there that these men have taken towards their sons. They start to change the image that has been outside of our control of who Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander men are. It’s loaded with what really attracted me to this work. And of course, there’s the beautiful writing and the beautiful deep expression that can only, I think, be articulated through the form of writing letters.

I also think about the act of writing these letters. I often think that in a lifetime, I’m not sure that we would sit down with our sons or with our fathers and talk about our experiences. About our lives, about our wisdoms, about how it is we pass on those teachings and those learnings over generations.

I’m not sure that we would actually sit there and do that without being distracted or disturbed by life. By a phone call. And I imagine that through the process of writing, things would have come up for these men that they might not have expected.

How did you approach translating such deeply personal letters into a theatrical experience?

John Harvey and I, as co-adapters, one of the first things we did was talk about how we wanted to stay really true to the letters. We wanted to be able to represent these writers in the most authentic way possible. We did this by keeping the text and their stories really accurate in terms of what they wrote in the book.

We were also really aware that a lot of the letters sit in this reflective space and that reflection doesn’t necessarily work for theatre. Certainly some reflection can work in theatre. But if it’s all reflective then there’s no dramatic action that’s driving the stories. So a big part of our job was to bring some of the language and some of the letters into the present tense. And by doing that we were able to make these letters and the men, the actors, active in the storytelling.

The other significant moment in terms of what shaped how we put this stage adaptation together was during the first workshop that we did in Cairns. We invited four of the actors from the cast and we actually didn’t read from the book. We spent those two or three days actually just talking about our own experiences as fathers and sons.

And the workshop really turned into this sort of men’s group. A lot of us had known each other for over 20 years and we learned things about each other’s lives, personal lives, that we’d never known about each other before.

So this book, Dear Son, was an invitation for us as men to start to open up and talk about what was happening and going on in our own lives. Which is a beautiful invitation that Thomas and the other writers of the book have given us. There were plenty of tears in this workshop and there was lots of laughter.

And so John and I then, we set the story in this space that is known as a Cook Haus. These are places where people gather, community gathers and they conclude and they talk. There’ll be fire. This is a meeting place where people can come and feel safe. So the premise of this work is that it’s set at a Cook Haus and this is a men’s group that are meeting.

How does Dear Son connect to the broader conversation around truth-telling and reconciliation in Australia today?

The act of these letter writers, our source material, it’s their intent to stop the demonisation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander men. The letters in themselves are a form of truth-telling. And what makes them so powerful is that while they are inherently political, they are absolutely personal. They’re not trying to be political in writing these letters. They’re giving us access to their own truth and their own experiences.

And I think that through that generosity and through that access, Aboriginal, non-Aboriginal, everybody can find a way into these stories and have a sort of deeper understanding. Not just of these men’s experiences, but of their own experiences.

How does this stage adaptation explore that bond of fatherhood, especially from a First Nations perspective?

What’s really interesting in this work is there’s a letter written by Yessie Mosby. He’s a Kulkalgal fella from the Torres Strait Islands. He’s a dad and he wrote his letter from the burial grounds of his sixth-generation grandfather. He talks about the different stages from boyhood into manhood. About the children growing up as turtles and then growing into goannas and then growing into the man stage of life.

And he talks about the many dads that are involved in the bringing up of children. How we consider all the uncles our dads as well. So it’s not just one man’s, it’s not just the dad’s responsibility. It’s the uncle’s responsibility to take them through law. So in cultural and traditional societies that role and responsibility is a shared role between the uncles. I hope that sort of answers your question.

Yes, that’s fantastic. Thank you. I also wondered what conversations are you hoping this production sparks between fathers and sons, or perhaps families more broadly?

I go back to what I was saying before, when we were invited by the letter writers of this book to start to open up and actually talk about what matters to us. What are the things that we need to be talking about right now? I hope that these men, through their vulnerability, their strength, through the performer’s strength and their courage to tell these stories and the courage of the letter writers, that it redefines this idea of what masculinity is. It is okay to talk, and it is okay to cry and it is okay to ask for help. It’s okay to talk about more than just sport, right?

Especially in Australia.

Yeah, especially in Australia. That’s right.

What do you hope that audiences, both Indigenous and non-Indigenous, will take away from this work when they see it?

That what we’ve been taught to believe about masculinity and what being a man is, black or white, is flawed. And that there are other versions of what being a man is. We can be tender, we can be loving, we can be soft. We are vulnerable, we are all these things. And that’s okay.

How have the cast contributed to shaping the emotional tone or direction of the production?

We are talking about a senior cast of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander men. Each come from a lot of experience in the theatre but a lot of life experience as well. We have Jimi Bani, who is the chief of the Wadagadum people in the Torres Strait. And we’ve got Trevor Jamieson, who’s an initiated man. We’ve got all of their experiences of life, life learnings, and wisdoms to draw from. They’ve been so generous to bring that part of themselves to the work because each of them are fathers and each of them are sons.

REFLECT:

“The act of these letter writers, our source material, it’s their intent to stop the demonisation of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander men. The letters in themselves are a form of truth-telling. And what makes them so powerful is that while they are inherently political, they are absolutely personal.”

• Consider Isaac’s words in relation to the ‘Act of writing these letters’. In what way do you think that the form of letters enabled the ‘beautiful deep expression’, the truth-telling and the letters being ‘inherently political and absolutely personal’?
• In what way was the workshop and co-adaptation process critical in shaping the direction of the theatrical production of Dear Son from the outset?
• How does director Isaac Drandic shape dramatic languages of Dear Son to dispel the stereotype around what masculinity is for First Nations men, particularly in relation to Fatherhood?
• Consider the significance of the Cook Haus as the setting for the play. How does the choice of this environment, selected by Dear Son Co-Adaptors Isaac Drandic and John Harvey with Set Design by Kevin O’Brien, resonate with and extend the themes, ideas and concepts of the production?
• Consider the co-adaption process with John Harvey that Isaac speaks of “to bring some of the language and some of the letters into the present tense. And by doing that we were able to make these letters and the men, the actors, active in the storytelling.” How are the dramatic languages manipulated in the production for example, the physical language, sonic (sound) language, design languages of video, set, costume and lighting to achieve this? See the below statements from the Dear Son Design Team.

CREATIVE STATEMENTS FROM THE DEAR SON DESIGN TEAM – FROM THE DEAR SON PLAY BRIEFING

“The Design Team is open and responsive to the energy of the work. It’s an ever-evolving work, and each work has something else – we think we know what it is, then the show reveals itself.”

— Isaac Drandic
Dear Son Director and Co-Adaptor

“It’s about staying true to who they are as people – these are Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people – we know them. It’s also about giving broad brush strokes, and not getting too into the nitty gritty.”

— Delvene Cockatoo-Collins
Dear Son Costume Designer

“People collect under shade, and men would gravitate to the shed, particularly at sunset. Sunset is the condition of the show. The tree is extraordinary, and plays an old, bearing witness character.”

— Kevin O'Brien
Dear Son Set Designer

“This is a new work, and in terms of shaping this work, it’s about digging into the tone of the work. It’s also about blending video in a way that supports the form and structure of the work and world building – Kevin’s set sits in Realism, and the back of the space is where we see the projection.”

— Craig Wilkinson
Dear Son Video Designer

“It has been a really organic process and sound and music has been built on the rehearsal room floor. This is a really exciting and fun way to work and it is great to play a supporting role to this work."

— Wil Hughes
Dear Son Composer and Sound Designer

“Listening and learning new ways, listening and learning through new eyes. It’s a process of teaching and of learning – it’s a privilege.”

— David Walters
Dear Son Lighting Designer

REFLECT: How have the Dear Son Creative Team contributed to the layers of dramatic languages in Dear Son?

DEAR SON FROM PAGE TO STAGE: WITNESS THE CO-ADAPTION FIRSTHAND

Please see an example of the page to stage co-adaptation of Dear Son by Isaac Drandic and John Harvey:

An excerpt from the letter written by Yessie Mosby entitled ‘Kulkalgal’ in the Dear Son book, by Thomas Mayo. This is a First Nations story from the Torres Strait. In this excerpt, Yessie writes about ‘Yathai kuik’.

“When you see a flock of birds flying in an arrowhead in the sky, you will see the leader at the front; that leader is called Yathai kuik. Where that bird turns, the flock follows. If that bird goes in the wrong direction, he had an impact on the flock. My father was the Yathai kuik of the Mosby clan. The first son is the Yathai kuik, the leader of the flock. My father and his father’s descendants were the Yathai kuik; a long legacy that stretched back over generations. When my father died, it was my responsibility to become the Yathai kuik of our clan. Genia, as my eldest son you are the first in line. One day you will be the Yathai kuik. You will be the bird that flies directly behind me in that arrowhead. If anything happens to me, you will replace me as the Yathai kuik. If I die tomorrow, regardless of the fact that you are ten years old, you will become the Yathai kuik for our clan and you will be guided by your wadhuwam.”

— Yessie Mosby in Dear Son by Thomas Mayo

Please find an excerpt from the Dear Son script to see how Yessie Mosby’s letter about the Yathai kuik has been adapted into a play script by Co-Adaptors Isaac Drandic and John Harvey.