The Sydney-born batter discovered her sense of self in Brisbane, where as well as leading her WBBL club's involvement in First Nations round, she is busy passing on lessons to the next generation of Indigenous kids
Identity heft: Hinkley, Heat blaze Indigenous trail
Mikayla Hinkley was 16 when she first signed on to become a professional cricketer with the Sydney Thunder. She understood the game, of course, but well beyond the bat-and-ball fundamentals, she knew nothing of the wider world she was about to enter. She didn't even know herself.
"I struggled to find my feet in the cricket scene – I was a kid in an adult industry," Hinkley, now 23, tells cricket.com.au.
"I look back to that time and I was so young, and so unaware of who and what I was.
"They were very trying times for me. I struggled severely with anxiety and depression.
"In elite sport, you learn to grow up pretty quickly."
Two interstate moves, four Big Bash clubs, and six years later, the Brisbane Heat's lone Indigenous representative has emerged with a definitive sense of self.
And it was on the bridge from then to now that she learned to be comfortable with who she is, to be proud of who she is, and the many happy traits she possesses.
"I got to a point where I thought: I can continue to take the easy road and just kind of hide this, or I can have real pride in who and what I am, regardless of what anybody has to say to that," she says.
"It would be easier to just not be questioned, but that's not who I am."
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Image Id: 559D4BBF96D54003BD0FFB553A65FF2E Image Caption: The front and back of the Heat shirt being worn for First Nations round // Brisbane HeatLook closely and you'll spot the footprints dotted along the edge of the Brisbane River. Squint just a little and that meandering body of water transforms into the rainbow serpent, those footprints now kangaroo and emu tracks as they shift with the sands of time. On the other side, the billabongs of Woolloongabba merge with the flames of the Brisbane Heat logo, a harmonious union of water and fire. Travel lines of teams and fans emanate to and from the circular pattern that details the Gabba, the players sitting around its edges and the colours of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander flags displayed proudly. Pushing back through time, a depiction of the 87 wickets taken by Queensland and Indigenous icon Eddie Gilbert offers quiet recognition of a challenging past, on a shirt that peers with optimism towards a better future.
It is all there, if you look hard enough. The Brisbane Heat's shirt for the WBBL's inaugural First Nations round is much more than simply a shirt; beyond the beautiful design from local Indigenous artist and Mandandanji woman 'Auntie' Delly McDonald, and past even the stories her brushstrokes represent, lies hope.
"It visualises where we want to take cricket within the Indigenous community in Queensland," explains Hinkley, who is part of a long line of Kunja people, from near Cunnamulla, Paroo and Warrego on either side of the Queensland-NSW border, some 900 kilometres due west of Byron Bay.
"We're all about connection to culture, connecting to country … and connecting with communities.
"The history of our culture is pretty harsh. It's something that needs to be reconciled. Our elders' stories need to be heard, and continue to be heard.
"The fact we've been able to visualise such an amazing story, and an amazing history of culture in this city, gives these kids something to aspire to, and encourages them to keep connecting with culture, and doing that through playing cricket, which is pretty awesome.
"So rather than just being an art piece, I think it's a real statement, and a conversation starter."
Hinkley would know. As an Indigenous support officer at Wellington Point State High School on the eastern outskirts of Brisbane, she has a first-hand connection to the city's Indigenous youth. Once upon a time, not so long ago, she was walking in their shoes. She can empathise with their problems, their grievances, and their insecurities.
"I often think that's the reason why I'm so passionate about the job," she says, "because I didn't have that going through school.
"Sometimes I think kids are a bit ashamed to admit they're Indigenous. They don't have that connection around them, (or anyone) providing a culturally safe space.
"It's something I'm really honoured to do in my daily job. It's definitely brought my connection to culture back, and made me reconnect even stronger, just through being able to advocate for these kids.
"There are still massive gaps in our education and health systems that need to be closed.
"Aunty Delly and I, we see it in our own families, in the community, everywhere in our culture.
"There are so many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people out there – in particular youth – that don't get opportunities … because of these gaps, whether that's in a sporting, education or health context.
"And that's not just mob business – it's everybody's business. That's the message I want to bring across.
"I think that's where reconciliation comes in, and it's great we're living in a time where that's being really closely looked at.
"It's being pushed in communities and workplaces, so it's really exciting to see how bright the future looks for our Indigenous youth and our communities in general."
Image Id: 854674468EFD479590F712CAA50D8B5B Image Caption: WBBL|07 has been Hinkley's best campaign with the bat // GettyHinkley, who has struck a nice vein of form during WBBL|07 to almost double her T20 career runs tally, hails from Penrith in Sydney's far west – the same stomping ground as another up-and-coming Indigenous cricketer, Hannah Darlington. And like Darlington, she was a beyond-her-years talent, signing with the Thunder as a teenager and making her debut before she had turned 18.
The Thunder won the inaugural WBBL title during her maiden season, though Hinkley didn't appear in the final, and her journey in the intervening years was complicated by matters away from cricket, leading her to take a mental health break from the game.
As she attests, those issues revolved around depression and anxiety, and a large part of that came back to identity.
Just as she has witnessed in the generation of kids she now works with, there was a sense of shame in her family regarding its Aboriginality, which traces back to her mother's father who was adopted at an early age after losing his mother.
"My grandfather wasn't really open about his Aboriginality," she remembers, "so we didn't grow up being proud, or overly aware of it, either."
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Life began to change for Hinkley when she moved to Queensland in May 2019. Her cricketing potential had taken her briefly to Perth, and then for a four-match stint with the Hurricanes, but it was in Brisbane that she came to feel settled off the field.
Image Id: 6D45B9A2AF724EBF95DB7C27A0651107 Image Caption: Hinkley had brief stints at the Hurricanes and Scorchers // Getty
Ironically, it was cricket that helped bring her closer to her heritage, when she decided to take part in the National Indigenous Cricket Championships in Alice Springs just a few months earlier.
"Playing Indigenous cricket and chatting to elders and just reconnecting … that's what enabled me to be more proud, and more open about (her Aboriginality)," she says.
"I really connected with some of the older and even the younger players, and I got really into culture, and it got me thinking more about family history, and actually how to have those conversations with elders, and also how to be proud and not feel shame about my culture.
"That was of massive importance, and something that sport is really special and significant in doing – it can actually bring our youth back into culture and reconnect them … (by) yarning with those elders and with other sportspeople who have been through the same thing.
"I know there's a lot of girls who have been through the same pathway, and it's helped them be proud about their culture and open about their experiences with that."
Image Id: 721F67EF8F0E4106BE96899599E0F4AC Image Caption: Hinkley with Hannah Darlington at the 2019 National Indigenous Cricket Championships // GettyWhat also helped Hinkley reach that point in her own path of self-discovery was a retracing of family lines in Queensland. As kids, she and her brothers used to visit their grandparents in Brisbane often, so there was an air of familiarity to sections of the city from the moment she arrived.
"Some parts of Brissie became like our second home," she remembers. "So by revisiting some of the places Pop used to take us – Victoria Point, Wellington Point, Cleveland and Wynnum jetty – even though he's passed away, it felt like I could, and can still, connect with him and our memories together through going to these places."
Geographically, too, she soon gained a better understanding of where their ancestors had lived, which again left Hinkley with a feeling that, in Queensland, she had found her home.
That sense was compounded further when she met and soon became good friends with Claudia Moodoonuthi, a young Indigenous woman and world-renowned artist who was brought up on Bentinck Island in the Gulf of Carpentaria.
"Our upbringings were from completely different ends of the spectrum," Hinkley says. "I grew up very away from culture, and Claudia was born and raised out bush until the age of 14.
"She's really introduced me to what it means to be an Aboriginal – and a proud Aboriginal woman. She's a great human."
Hinkley's connection with Indigenous art doesn't end there, as her involvement with this Heat shirt illustrates. Having met Brisbane artist Delly McDonald through a mutual relative at a family gathering, Hinkley approached her late last year to come up with a design for the First Nations round shirt.
"Brisbane Heat asked what ideas I had around an Indigenous jersey," she explains. "I went over to Delly's, she showed me some more of her art, and I was mesmerised.
"We had a chat about culture, a bit about our backgrounds, and then the message that the Heat wanted to get across as well – so collaborating all those factors into some wonderful art.
"I did a lot of talking, and Delly did a lot of listening and writing, and mocking things up.
"Everything Delly put to paper just really worked, and the story we wanted to illustrate, she's gone above and beyond in explaining that and more."
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For Hinkley, being one of the faces of the WBBL's First Nations round has served as another means of enhancing the pride she has in her family history, as well as her sense of self.
She talks about the inter-generational trauma many Indigenous families in Australia face and how a feeling of shame is conditioned into many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islanders.
Hinkley has learned to overcome this, and while it might initially seem an unusual comparison, she sees similarities with that evolution and the way she has also handled the process of coming out as a gay woman.
"I think both really have a lot of shame attached to them, don't they?" she asks rhetorically. "For me it comes down to having a solid base, and a solid support system.
"I'm quite open about (her sexuality) these days, and it feels so much better to be. And my family have just been amazing through that process; I'm totally and completely blessed by my mum, my dad and my three brothers – they have just been absolute rocks for me.
"And at the end of the day, it comes down to an identity thing."
Which is part of what she'd love to tell her 16-year-old self, the Mikayla Hinkley who was excited, but daunted – and completely unprepared – for what lay ahead.
"Take life as it comes, and be fearless in doing that," she offers by way of such advice. "Embracing what's thrown at you – from a sexuality point of view, from a cultural point of view, from a study point of view, a work point of view.
"It's all a journey and embrace it as that.
"That's the big takeaway I'd probably give myself now in hindsight, and I know that the journey still going – there's a long way to go, I'm only 23."
Right now that journey has brought Hinkley back to Wynnum Jetty. On the same land she stood as a little girl with her Pop two decades ago, she is now advocating for the Indigenous cause via the sport she loves.
The setting holds special memories for McDonald too, who not only has work on display in the area but family ties to the land, with her mother having been born on Quandamooka (Stradbroke Island), which is visible from the jetty.
And beyond the scene in front of her, Hinkley knows she now has the support of not only the governing bodies but the sport itself, as well as some likeminded Indigenous individuals whose stories can be neatly compared with her own: Darlington (Kamilaroi) and Anika Learoyd (Gumbaynggir) at the Thunder, Ashleigh Gardner (Muruwari) at the Sixers, and Ella Hayward (Jawoyn) at the Renegades.
Image Id: 044197CCDE7043CB8A783EE6F0B173D4 Image Caption: Hinkley (left) with the WBBL's four other Indigenous players // Getty"We would all love, as Aboriginal women, to go back in time and right wrongs, but we can't, and that's why we do what we do," she says.
"That's why we play cricket and we're proud, and there's no better feeling than being a proud Aboriginal woman, because we're bringing to light our ancestors who didn't have the opportunity to be proud, who didn't feel they had the space or the platform to be proud Aboriginal people.
"For me that's the biggest thing at the moment – embracing who I am and where I'm from, and then helping kids to do the same thing."