Police say Federal Government moves to slash Australia’s intake of African-born refugees could drive a wedge between Sudanese residents and the wider community.
Join the debate here.
It used to be that stations on the border of zone 2 and 3 was where the big crush came on peak hour trains. The car parks at these stations – like Heatherdale on the Lilydale line for example – were chockers from before 7am as commuters drove from past their nearest zone 3 station to take advantage of the cheaper fair.
Now, we’ve heard tell that, since the abolition of zone 3, the crush has moved out – that the guaranteed seat on a city-bound train at Croydon is not so guaranteed any more and that commuters at Heatherdale are lucky to get on at all.
What say you? True or no? Has anyone got any similar or contradictory stories to tell?
- is this happening at a station near you?
Thousands are homeless: Why? And what can we possibly do to help?
7 Answers Published 1 year, 7 months ago in My life.Every night in every suburb of Melbourne there are people sleeping rough - in cars, in drains, in delapitated, abandoned buildings. Every now and then one dies just trying to keep warm.
I can’t help wondering how have they fallen through the gaps and how I, and you, can possibly help.
Any thoughts?
In sight, out of mind and in the queue for understanding
1 Comment Published 1 year, 8 months ago in My life.
CRAIG Boxshall rolls up his hand-knitted beanie and leans forward to show me a crooked 10cm scar on his scalp.
He is keen for me to see the injury marking the spot where everything fell apart, the moment that triggered mental illness and cost him everything the first brick on the road to Maroondah Lodge, a SRS at Ringwood East.
In 1993 he worked as a telephone technician until he was assaulted in his sleep, bludgeoned with a chair and left for dead. His injuries healed but a debilitating fear grew into full-blown paranoid schizophrenia.
“I felt like I was being watched the entire time,'’ Mr Boxshall says, leaning forward to watch me write, talking slowly to make sure I get all the details down.
Three or four other residents sit around the brown laminex table in the dining room as he talks, waiting their turn, an unofficial queue of people eager to tell their stories. It seems they want people to understand what caused their lives to change and what keeps them in the rut.
Maroondah Lodge assistant manager Wilma Reid says her charges are often abused; her eyes flash as she tells of confronting carloads of drunks that chased residents back to the lodge, intent on violence.
Poverty makes it almost impossible for them to integrate into the community. After paying an average $470 a fortnight for food and lodging, they have about $25 a week for toiletries, clothes, transport and medication. Mr Boxshall has recently returned to work a couple of days a month in the communication industry, but says that his clothes, which come from op shops or donations, make it hard for him to fit in.
Another resident, Dave Simms, 53, says that if he had more money he would go to the movies, which he hasn’t been able to afford for five years.
Boredom is obvious. Residents move restlessly between dining room, TV room, porch and their bedrooms furnished with whatever they can carry home from hard rubbish collections.
Some try to lighten the mood and one prankster, Ian Laister, leans across to Maroondah Leader journalist Brigid O’Connell. “Marry me, Brigid,'’ he says, his eyes glinting with the joke. Next day I return on my own for a few more photos and Ian is having a bad day. Hunched over his instant coffee, he calls me close so that no one else can hear. He looks tired.
“Can you please do something for me?'’ His voice is serious. The joke is over. “Can you please ask Brigid to get me out of this place?'’
A special report by Andy Drewitt and his colleague Brigid O’Connell was published in this week’s Maroondah Leader. Read it and tell us what you think.
MM
THE homeless are there for all to see, but we never stop to see them.
2 Comments Published 1 year, 8 months ago in My life.
Over the past month I have visited some of the places where Maroondah’s homeless meet to eat, sleep and live. In a small way, and for the first time in my life, I have seen them.
Some fit the stereotype of the middle-aged alcoholic male, but most don’t. They are elderly women, teenage couples, fallen businessmen and fervent football fans. They are families with young children and bare cupboards, single mothers working two jobs, paint-sniffing teenagers with addled brains and the just plain lonely.
They have a different way of walking, different priorities and have trouble keeping time with the social etiquettes, niceties and responsibilities of life. Many are victims of alcohol and drug abuse, but the problem is not as simple as that.
The road to homelessness is as complex and varied as the faces on the street, paved by mental illness and physical disability, road trauma and acquired brain injury, domestic violence and financial strife, soaring rents and a lack of public housing. But as I have stopped to look, I have also seen hope.
Many, like Eastern Access Community Health social worker Dan Flynn, are doing what they can with what they’ve got to make life a little better for these vulnerable people. Armed with a tambourine, I sat in on a jam session led by Mr Flynn at Maroondah Lodge, a pension-level Supported Residential Service in Ringwood East.
Sebastian, a painfully quiet and seemingly emotionless character, owned the microphone and morphed into a hilarious and eloquent performer, leading renditions of Mary Had a Leg of Lamb and Stairway to Heaven. He was skilfully supported on drums and acoustic guitar by Ian.
“They’re much more complex than people think and music brings that out over time,'’ Mr Flynn told me. “They need an honest space . . .'’ I have stopped and looked and I have seen there is very little separating the homeless from everyone else.
A special report by Brigid O’Connell and her colleague Andy Drewitt was published in this week’s Maroondah Leader. Read it and tell us what you think.
MM
