If there were, Aboriginal mum Casey Tennyson would deserve a medal the size of her large, loving heart.

The solo parent of her three-year-old son Djural, the Palowa woman is also the fulltime foster mum of two Aboriginal boys, aged three and nine (who can't be identified).

Both came to her deeply traumatised by their early lives. One was born drug-affected, and both have complex health and disability challenges to navigate.

Managing their medical appointments, enormous meltdowns and behaviour became her daily lot. But – like many foster carers – Tennyson, 29, had no trauma training and little support.

Overwhelmed, she turned to Bubup Wilam, a purpose-built Aboriginal child and family centre in Thomastown.

"I wouldn't be where I am today without this place," says Tennyson. "Everything was just a mess, but they helped me work out who else needed to be involved with the boys and brought everyone to the table."

Bubup Wilam, "Children's Place" in Woi Wurrung language, is one of 35 Aboriginal early childhood centres built around Australia through a national "Close the Gap" funding agreement.

Lauded as a model of the holistic support Aboriginal families so desperately need, the four-year-old centre offers long daycare, kindergarten and educator training. It is also a community space for Indigenous people in Melbourne's outer north who are unable to afford life in gentrified areas like Fitzroy.

But despite its glowing reputation, Bubup Wilam faces an uncertain future.

Federal funding ran out two years ago, and neither the federal nor state government will stump up more.

"Governments talk about investing in the early years but someone needs to do more than just talk. These kids can't wait," says chief executive officer Lisa Thorpe.

About 40 per cent of Bubup's children live in out-of-home care. The vast majority have experienced family violence and intergenerational trauma. About 60 per cent of its staff are Aboriginal.

Children are encouraged to be proud of their Indigenous culture through smoking ceremonies, "on country" outdoor play in local bushland, and marking special events like NAIDOC week.

But vulnerable children also need extra support. Bubup Wilam runs a unique model that provides a higher ratio of educators to children in rooms (about one educator to three kids), Thorpe says.

The 75 Aboriginal families who use the centre are all charged a fee based on their ability to pay.

But without the centre securing more funding – about $800,000 a year – it will have little option but to cut staff numbers and charge full rates. This will push families out, says Thorpe.

"In four years we've established a very good, self-determining organisation that has met every requirement and every need. What more do we have to do?"

Bubup Wilam has the backing of the local Whittlesea Council, Victoria's Aboriginal Children's Commissioner Andrew Jackomos, and local federal member Andrew Giles.

This week Victoria launched its new Aboriginal education strategy, which emphasises the importance of early-year education for Indigenous children.

"This policy is terrific, and has been developed in partnership with the local community. But if we let Bubup fail, that says a lot," says Jackomos.

Casey Tennyson grew up as one of seven children in a family marred by violence. She is now studying community services and wants her sons to be brought up within their culture.

"After these kids have gone through, the cycle has to stop. This is how you close the gap."

The Age contacted the Victorian Department of Education, the Minister for Families Jenny Mikakos, and the federal Department of Prime Minister and Cabinet. No one provided a comment before deadline.

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