I Stepped Back. Now I’m Stepping In.

Over the last year, I stepped back from public speaking, from big rooms, from visibility. Not because I didn’t care, but because I needed space. Space to heal, to listen, to reset.

It started with serious burnout. A good friend told me — bluntly, but lovingly, that I needed to pause and reassess my priorities. Some of the businesses I was part of were struggling. I felt shame, frustration, and a lot of anger that was often directed at things completely outside my control. I needed time out. I shut down my social media accounts and planned to take three months off. It ended up being six.

Those months were hard. Emotionally, financially, spiritually. I’d lost my rhythm and didn’t really know where I fit anymore. But three things brought me back to myself.

The first was a Kinaway Indigenous Business Exchange trip to the U.S. To be honest, I didn’t love the business side of that journey. I wasn’t in the headspace to be pitching or selling. I didn’t feel culturally safe and nearly came home more than once. But what held me there  and what ultimately made it worth it were the people. The other mob on the trip. And a deep, unexpected connection I made with First Nations people in Wichita. The conversations, the care, and one particular friendship from that trip helped shape my next 12 months. It was the first moment I felt safe again — personally, not just professionally.

Around the same time, I graduated with my MBA. That might sound like a straight-up win, but the path to that graduation was rough. We were living on one income, and I didn’t know what direction I was heading in. But UNSW and AGSM supported me through it, and I’ll never forget the joy on my daughters’ faces when I walked out in my graduation get up, or the go dad cheers as I walked across the stage.  Even now they look at my degree and say Dad that was a fun a day!

Shortly after, I joined DEECA as Senior Policy Advisor for First Peoples Energy. I needed something different, and I got it. Writing the First Peoples Renewable Energy Strategy gave me insight into how government systems work and how people within those systems are trying to do better. I met some amazing, passionate people. And I began to understand how systems shift — slowly, but meaningfully.

At the same time, I continued to reflect. I worked on myself. I exercised, I meditated, I journaled. And I kept working in the background quietly with organisations like the Bunurong Land Council Aboriginal Corporation to support truth-telling and healing as they rebuilt after special administration.

None of this was perfectly planned. It wasn’t a comeback campaign. It was a personal rebuild. And as I listened to myself, to community, to what was happening around me — I realised the space I want to work in: creating safe spaces through systems change.

I came to understand that real safety, the kind that creates long-term change starts with being safe in ourselves. Then in our families. Our communities. Our organisations. And finally, in the systems around us. But safety also requires agency — the power to change those systems.

That’s when the SAFE Method began to take shape.

I mapped my own healing onto the bigger picture and the patterns were obvious. Every time I asked myself what would make the biggest difference for our mob, I came back to one answer: employment in real jobs. But the problem isn’t just a lack of opportunity it’s that the systems those jobs exist in are often unsafe for our people. That’s the real barrier. That’s the real work.

The more time I spent listening to myself, to Country, to community the clearer it became. I didn’t need a new brand. I didn’t need a big relaunch. What I needed was a home for the work I’ve always been called to do.

Over the years, I’ve walked in and out of many spaces business, government, community, classrooms, boardrooms. Sometimes leading, sometimes learning. Sometimes struggling to stay grounded in systems that weren’t designed for us. But through all of it, I carried the same question:

How do we create real safety for our people — not just in crisis, but in everyday life?

The answer came slowly. Safety isn’t something you can create in isolation. It must exist at every level: within us, in our families, in our communities, in the organisations that employ us, and in the systems that govern us.

That’s where the SAFE Method was born.
And from that, Buneen Group began to take shape.

Buneen Group isn’t a company. It’s a collective vision — a response to everything I’ve seen, lived, and worked through. It brings together three entities, all walking the same path from different directions.

Buneen is the consultancy — the part of the work that speaks directly to organisations ready to do better. We support truth-telling, design cultural frameworks, and help leaders transform their systems from the inside out.

Buneen Employment focuses on the workplace — helping mob find meaningful, long-term jobs while preparing employers to become places where our people can thrive, not just survive.

And Dreaming Futures is where my heart really sits — with our kids. It’s a charity that walks beside Aboriginal young people in care, providing cultural connection, mentoring, and life skills to help them grow strong, proud, and ready for whatever comes next.

Each one of these exists on its own, but together they form something bigger: a way forward. A future where Indigenous disadvantage isn’t inevitable — because the systems around us are designed with our safety, dignity, and leadership in mind.

Now that’s a future we can all get behind.

Stay Deadly Shawn Andrews Director Buneen Group