How to Be a Real Boy: Pinocchio and Yindyamarra Winhanganha
Stories have a way of teaching us about ourselves. They invite us to reflect—not through rigid rules or moral absolutes, but by showing us the consequences of choices, the importance of relationships, and the potential for growth. For Wiradjuri people, yindyamarra winhanganha—to live with respect in a world worth living in—offers a similar invitation. It teaches that respect is not a fixed rule but emerges through connection, care, and thoughtfulness. Similarly, Carlo Collodi’s Pinocchio—often dismissed as a simple children’s tale—reveals profound lessons about transformation and responsibility when viewed through the lens of yindyamarra winhanganha. Rooted in a rich cultural context, yindyamarra winhanganha offers principles that resonate far beyond its origins, reminding us that learning to live well is an ongoing process shaped by the relationships we nurture and the respect we carry for the world around us.
Reflecting on these stories, I find myself asking: how often do we, like Pinocchio, stumble through life unaware of the impact of our actions on others? And what would it mean to approach life with the respect and care embodied by yindyamarra winhanganha? These questions invite us to consider how the lessons from stories—cultural teachings or literary narratives—can challenge how we think and live.
At the start, Pinocchio is impulsive and selfish, chasing immediate gratification without regard for the harm he causes. I am struck by how universal this stage of growth feels. Like many, Pinocchio’s early selfishness reflects a time in life when we prioritise our desires over the needs of others, often learning the value of relationships only through the consequences of our mistakes. His actions hurt Geppetto, who sacrifices everything to care for him. When Geppetto sells his coat to buy schoolbooks, Pinocchio thoughtlessly abandons the gesture, leaving Geppetto to suffer in the cold. Geppetto’s care prompts me to ask: how can we honour those who sacrifice for us, even when we fail to notice? Relationships are built on mutual respect, where care and guidance flow both ways, enriching all who participate.
The role of the Talking Cricket in Pinocchio offers another moment of reflection. As a moral guide, the Cricket provides wisdom that Pinocchio repeatedly ignores. At first, this feels frustrating—why won’t Pinocchio listen? But his impulsiveness and immaturity remind me of how often we resist advice, even when it comes from a place of care. How frequently have you been so focused on forging your path that you brushed aside advice from someone you trusted? Only later, after facing the consequences of your choices, does their wisdom finally click, leaving you to reflect on the lessons you could have learned earlier. This mirrors the relational nature of learning in yindyamarra winhanganha: wisdom isn’t imposed; it’s absorbed through experience and the reflection it prompts.
Pinocchio’s journey takes a darker turn on Pleasure Island, where the promise of endless fun and freedom seduces him into thoughtless consumption. This moment feels profoundly relevant today. In a world that prioritises personal gratification over collective well-being, how do materialism and excess usually tempt us? Pleasure Island represents more than just Pinocchio’s failure; it critiques how individualism can disrupt community and mutual care. Reflecting on this through the lens of yindyamarra winhanganha, I am reminded of the Wiradjuri teaching that respect is about balance—taking only what is needed and caring for the relationships that sustain us. For example, Indigenous-led land stewardship programs embody relational ethics and demonstrate how respecting traditional knowledge can foster environmental balance and intergenerational well-being.
The heart of Pinocchio’s transformation lies in his relationship with Geppetto. Though selfless, Geppetto’s sacrifices evolve throughout the story as he balances love with the patience required to guide Pinocchio toward accountability. I think about how this dynamic parallels the wisdom of Elders in yindyamarra winhanganha. Elders provide guidance not through control but by sharing lived experiences, nurturing intergenerational relationships, and offering a space for growth. Listening to Elders is not a passive act but a reciprocal one. By listening attentively, individuals honour their wisdom while affirming their role in shaping cultural continuity. For the Wiradjuri people, this listening is essential to maintaining ngurambang—connection to Country—and ensuring knowledge is carried forward with respect.
Pinocchio’s transformation culminates when he risks his own life to save Geppetto from the belly of the whale. This courage and selflessness reflects his growth into someone who values relationships over personal gain. As I reflect on this moment, I think about times in my own life when I have been called to put others first. It isn’t always easy, but these acts of care and responsibility remind us of what it means to live with respect. In this way, Pinocchio’s journey feels like a reflection of yindyamarra winhanganha: to grow into someone who respects and honours the relationships that sustain us. His journey to becoming “real” reminds us that our humanity is shaped not by perfection but by our relationships and the lessons they teach us.
These lessons are not just about Pinocchio or yindyamarra winhanganha. They are about us. How do we approach the people and communities in our lives with patience, care, and thoughtfulness? How often do we pause to reflect on the sacrifices made for us, the wisdom offered to us, or the responsibilities we hold toward others? Carrying these lessons forward might mean pausing to acknowledge the sacrifices others have made for us, listening attentively to those who offer wisdom, or finding ways to contribute to our communities with care and thoughtfulness. Through these small acts, we nurture relationships and contribute to a larger culture of respect and care, shaping a world that honours all its connections.
Reflecting on yindyamarra, winhanganha and Pinocchio together offer a vision of morality that is dynamic and relational. It challenges the rigid frameworks often imposed on us, instead inviting us to consider how we can live thoughtfully, with respect for the relationships that sustain us. As I think about these stories, I am reminded of how much we can learn from reflection—our lives and the stories we carry. At their heart, stories connect us. They connect us, our cultures, and ways of living that help us grow.
The lessons of yindyamarra winhanganha and Pinocchio remind us to weave respect, care, and connection into the fabric of our daily lives. What if we committed to small, thoughtful acts that honour our relationships and responsibilities instead of striving for perfection? This reflection is an invitation to live not only thoughtfully but also with purpose—an invitation to imagine and act toward a world worth living in.
Clinton Hayden is a Wiradjuri Blak queer artist and writer based in Melbourne. His practice spans photography, AI image creation, print media, drawing, and bricolage, exploring the intersections of personal and collective histories. Clinton’s work is deeply informed by his commitment to preserving and promoting Wiradjuri language and engaging with Indigenous Queer Futurism.
