Link-ups and Lockdowns

            While many of us have become accustomed to being constantly connected, plugged-in, never far from a wireless hotspot, radio remains a hugely important factor in connecting people both across vast spaces and within small communities. Both in the case of Northern Australia’s sprawling settlements and the separation of Aboriginal kin by distance, and often imprisonment, and in the case of a tiny town of 766 people in the Northwest Territories, radio broadcasts are crucial in fostering close-knit communities that transcend distance and isolation.

            Daniel Fisher’s article on radio request shows in Northern Australia reveals a sad truth about the indigenous population there in that they are overrepresented in Northern Territory prisons due, usually, to being incarcerated for minor crimes most white Australians pay fines for (2009:285). The area is particularly fractured beyond simple distance because of this, and because most do not own home phones, radio becomes an excellent mode of communication between kin. The idea of “linking people up” (Fisher 2009:282) is encouraged by DJs who want to facilitate a universal system of communication that can traverse the disconnectedness that comes with imprisonment. Fisher notes that the radio request shows, while positive, “evoke distance, loss, and longing” (2009:285), which directly reflect the nature of the messages communicated and the songs requested, which are often Aboriginal country songs that lament about loss of freedom.

            Northern Australia’s Indigenous community is in part constructed by radio broadcasts, specifically the aforementioned request shows that allow people to call in to dedicate songs, deliver messages of love and solidarity, and simply to let their friends and loved ones know they’re thinking of them. Calling in to make a request makes a story and a relationship public – this method of communication is a means for families to grow and to stay close even when there are multiple factors standing in the way (Fisher 2009:286). Without the ability to communicate with each other in this fashion, families and “mobs” are at risk of losing contact and potentially falling apart, and so the DJs are instrumental in keeping those ties strong, as “linking people up” is as much a part of their jobs as spinning records (Fisher 2009:288).

            Contrarily to the radio stations of Northern Australia, CBQM does not connect people living in different places, but serves as the heart of the tightly knit town of Fort McPherson. The role of radio host is informal – at various points, prominent figures of the town are featured, such as their lone police officer or the pastor of the local church. CBQM’s content ranges from recipes to Biblical readings, from weather and traffic warnings to live country music. When one member of the community can’t reach someone, they can always call into the station and have their message broadcasted for everyone to hear in hopes it will find the intended friend or relative.

            CBQM unifies Fort McPherson’s residents because it represents something they are all passionate about: their community. Throughout the film, people are depicted listening to the station in their cars, their homes, and wherever else there is a signal. The radio station acts as a source of entertainment, information, and spirituality, thus cultivating a stronger bond between residents who are otherwise bound only by geographic isolation. Due to being constantly tuned in to the radio, the townsfolk are also tuned in to each other, and this fosters an exceptionally compassionate and involved community.