Ronald ‘broke’ when his partner of 27 years had a heart attack. His best friend pulled him through

Melissa Jackson, 60, and her colleague and “bestie” Ronald Briggs, 58, are senior Indigenous librarians and collection curators at the State Library of NSW. Their boss calls them The Giggle Twins.

Melissa: We met on December 9, 1991, in the human resources room at the library. He was a country boy in the big smoke for the first time. I thought he was a very handsome man; I had no idea he was gay. I quickly found out when we began eyeing off the same men.

We started hanging out from day one. I said to him, “You’re going to be my best friend” and he said, “All right, then.” Our first jobs were collecting books and putting them on shelves; we were the only Aboriginal librarians in the library.

Damien, our boss, calls us The Giggle Twins because we laugh all the time and we’re loud. We had a mentor named Janice. She’d hear us coming a mile away; we’d yarn away next to her. One day, Janice said, “Please. I sit here, too. I can’t concentrate.” We were literally shushed by a librarian!

There was a door that led up to the library rooftop where we used to sit in the sun and hide. We were young. One day, we opened the wrong door and the fire alarm went off! We legged it and got away. This was pre-surveillance cameras; they never knew it was us.

I was a single parent when we first met and am very much a homebody; Ronald was a young gay man hitting the party scene. In the 1990s, when AIDS was a thing, I said something horribly thoughtless to him once – about the need to be sexually responsible. He said, “I can’t believe you said that!” The look on his face; I knew I’d screwed up. We didn’t speak for a couple of days. Then he bought me a bunch of flowers and we were besties again. That’s how beautiful he is.

Ronald is decolonising our collection by buying material that’s been created by Aboriginal people; he has this great empathy and understanding. In 2020, the library’s Indigenous Engagement Branch held an exhibition commemorating 250 years since Captain Cook arrived. Instead of looking from the boat to the shore, we looked from the shore to the boat, which is the Aboriginal perspective. Mark Latham said he was appalled at our lack of reverence and wrote a scathing email, calling us “historical barbarians”. Ronald thought it was so hilarious that we got “historical barbarian” badges made up and wear them with pride.

Four years ago, Ronald lost his partner, David, to a massive heart attack. They were together for 27 years. Poor darling, it broke him. He hit the piss really hard and got liver damage. When he came out of hospital, he was emaciated. I said, “We’ll get through this, darling. Be strong.”

In a couple of months, we’re going to Melbourne for a girls’ weekend. We’ll take in a Neil Diamond show and go shopping for clothes. He’s very generous. We spent my last birthday shopping on King Street [in Sydney’s Newtown], then went back to our Airbnb and watched movies all night. It was wholesome and fun. I wish he wasn’t gay: we’d be the perfect couple!

We’ve said that, one day, we might live together and become little, old, librarian cat ladies. We’ll have a little Federation house and crochet. I love him very much.

Ronald: I was doing casual teaching in western Sydney when I saw an ad on a noticeboard for a traineeship at the library. I turned up and saw Melissa; I could tell straight away she was fun. She’d also done a teaching degree, but realised she didn’t like kids!

We have a lot of fun at work while knowing that aspects of our job are deadly serious. We’re dealing with stolen generations, dispossession and trauma, things that go to the core of who we are as First Nations people. It’s a shared experience for us, even though we’re from different Country: I’m from Kamilaroi [in western NSW] and Melissa’s from Bundjalung [on the North Coast]. She handles a lot of the women’s business material. As president of the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Library, Information and Resource Network, she even attends international conferences. I’m not jealous at all!

We support each other professionally and personally. I can really only remember one argument – a full-blown one at work – when she tried to lecture me about being sexually responsible. We got over it, though.

We used to really knock back in our younger days. I miss that. Nowadays, Melissa doesn’t drink and is always the first to leave the party, but I know it’s because she’s had major health challenges. She won’t even have a piece of cake.

Since I’ve known her, she’s been in a couple of long-term relationships. She went through a break-up quite recently and it’s still raw for her. That would be one of the things I wouldn’t talk about with her; too much like picking at a scab. But I do listen. Then we look at travel websites together so she can plan something nice to look forward to. I give her a cuddle and say, “I’m here for you” – like she was for me when my partner died. David and I had been together for a long time. I coped the only way I knew how – by hitting the bottle – but Melissa called me every day. I could always rely on her for a hug or a knowing look. Thank God she was there.

She’s my bestie. Recently, we went day-trekking in the city, exploring stuff we liked, trying things on, chatting with shop staff, laughing. Before we realised it, the whole day had passed. Not many people know this, but she used to be a member of the Bay City Rollers Fan Club and occasionally wears …tartan underwear, particularly when she’s giving a big speech. I may even have bought her some over the years.

Do I ever imagine a time at the library when she’s no longer there? Well, no, that’d be weird. She’s just there. I mean, she’s part of the furniture. And what’s a work environment without a good bitch session every now and then? I think you need it.

Neither of us drives, so I can foresee us doing lots of public transport trips together and visiting each other. Maybe we won’t live in the same nursing home, but we’ll still see each other. I don’t wish I wasn’t gay, but I do think – in a different time – we would probably have ended up together. Who knows?

Jackson and Briggs will appear in an episode of new ABC podcast History or Hoarding?, hosted by Annabel Crabb, on May 20.

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