They say a change is as good as a break. But what if that change collides with memories of holidays past?
Last month, One Nation’s Pauline Hanson hit the airwaves to angrily protest a proposal to rename Great Keppel Island, once the site of a hedonistic resort with the slogan “get wrecked on Great Keppel”.
The island received its English name from Captain James Cook in April 1770 in honour of the then First Lord of the Admiralty, Admiral Augustus Keppel.
But for thousands of years before that, the Woppaburra people of the Darumbal nation knew their island home as Wop-pa.
Ms Hanson vehemently objected to the Queensland Government's consideration of the name Woppa for the island in recognition of its Indigenous heritage.
There was a similar outcry in February over a proposal to change the name of Magnetic Island National Park to Yunbenun National Park, reflecting the preference of the Wulgurukaba Traditional Owners.
It is an all too familiar debate: Ayers Rock/Uluru, Fraser Island/K’gari, Kunanyi/Mount Wellington and King Leopold/Wunaamin Miliwundi Ranges.
Each name restoration has been met with furious public and political debate instead of rational, informed community discussion. And this is why I think that is.
Covid-19 gave us hundreds, maybe thousands of learnings, but from my own professional view, a handful remain.
Key amongst these is the idea that people don’t adapt easily to change.
To flourish, we need certainty and consistency in our lives, something the pandemic took away in an instant.
Change came in the form of new rules and regulations, and confusion and scepticism resulted. Sound coping strategies that had served many people well in previous stressful times were suddenly inadequate.
Change is hard; change is harder when you have little choice and influence over the outcome, and revolution often occurs when change is wanted.
This brings us back to the uproar that ensues whenever proposals arise to replace colonial place names with traditional Aboriginal designations, relinquishing claims dating back to the 1700s and 1800s.
Each instance has shown that when people feel connected to a place or its name, the mere suggestion of change can evoke strong emotions, regardless of its significance in reconciling our present with the past.
Some argue that European names carry historical significance and changing them erases a part of the region's history.
The flip side is the argument that Indigenous names are a way to acknowledge and respect the rights and contributions of our Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures.
Indeed, they can also be seen as steps toward reconciliation and correcting historical injustices.
So if it’s true that we have nothing to fear except fear itself, why do we let change scare us so much?
At the core of it all is that we all have a fundamental human need for consistency and certainty.
In other words, we’re not hardwired for things around us to suddenly be different.
People have an inherent desire for stability and predictability in their lives which can lead to apprehension and discomfort when it’s not the case.
And according to many studies on human behaviour, the brain's preference for familiar patterns and routines is deeply rooted in the need to reduce uncertainty and maintain a sense of control, and safety.
The challenge of adapting can be difficult as it involves navigating the tension between the comfort of the familiar and the potential benefits of embracing new circumstances.
Or in this case, place names that people might have grown up with and associate with good times, family holidays or even an imprinted childhood association with the labels in their school atlas.
At the end of the day, the debate reflects broader discussions about cultural representation, historical recognition, and the ongoing relationship between Indigenous and non-Indigenous communities.
It is essential to consider the diverse perspectives involved in these discussions and work towards solutions that respect the rights and histories of all - and ponder how we can embrace change, rather than reject it, as an opportunity for adaptation, growth and advancement.
Associate Professor Peta Stapleton is a registered clinical and health psychologist with 30 years experience in the field.