articles/lectures, Forgotten Australians

Children’s homes in the papers, 1920–50

by Cath on 21 April, 2010

Now that the National Library is serving out all the Australian newspapers from 1803, it’s easy to find historical reports on any topic, including children’s homes. You can help piece together the history of children’s homes by finding – and fixing – relevant stories.

What was reported in the papers?

As you might guess, mostly the news coverage of children’s homes  promoted their ‘good work’. For example, they might announce the opening of a new home; report on a visit by an important person; or try to drum up interest in a fundraising activity. In the story below, Lady Stradbroke visits the Children’s Welfare Depot at Royal Park.

Lady Stradbroke visits a children's home
Lady Stradbroke visits a children’s home

The edition of the Argus paper in which the photograph and caption about Lady Stradbroke’s visit appeared (3 June 1925, p. 17), included an article about her visit as well (p. 8).

There – and in many of the articles – you can find some deeper threads of stories about life in children’s homes.

For example, despite being a ‘good news’ story, the tone is darkened by the before/after comparisons the writer makes. So the news that the death rate has decreased includes the rather alarming previous rates:

in the last two years there were only eight deaths, while in 1920 the deaths were 58. Early records of the institution show that the rate was as high at one stage as 108, with five deaths in one day.

And the happy news that difficulties with the girls reformatory have been largely resolved is tempered by the method used. There is no mention of improving the lives of the girls. Rather, ‘when necessary, troublesome girls are sent either to the home at Riddell or to the Oakleigh Convent’.

In another story, there is this 1920 report of a breach by the manager of the Talbot Institute for the Protection of Women and Children. Martha Barnes had failed to notify the government that she had taken another child into her care. The story is mostly just about that – a basic breach of departmental requirements. But as you can see from the title – ‘Home for Children: Procedures Questioned’, the writer takes a broader view. And if you read the whole story, you get a strong sense of tension and dysfunction in the relationship between Martha Barnes and the Department for Neglected Children. The departmental officer was clearly concerned at the state of the premises:

Madeline Murray said that on November 27 she called at the institute, where she found five babies looking sickly and ill-nourished. The house was unsuitable for the number of children there, and the locality was not a healthy one. There was more work than one woman could possibly do, and there was also a lack of proper supervision.

In her defence, Martha Barnes stated that the rooms were airy and clean, that she was trained as a nurse, she was putting her own money into the care, and in 26 years she ‘had had only one death occur’.

The children themselves have no voice here – but as readers we can get a sense of the quality of the care they received.

You can help correct the news story text

Note that the news stories have been scanned and converted to text by machines – and machines are nowhere near as good as people at reading old, blotchy newsprint. You can help correct and enhance the text. For each article, there is a link to ‘Fix this text’. You can be anonymous or – if you register – you can gain recognition for your text correction work.

In case you have difficulty finding relevant articles yourself – and note that the search facility is not the easiest one to use – you could start by browsing these articles about children in homes:

art, Forgotten Australians, painting

Depression

by Mim Willson-Dekker (guest author) on 31 March, 2010

The painting ‘Depression: Abuse in Children’s Home and at Work as an Adult’ by artist Mim Willson-Dekker, depicts the events that triggered her suicide attempt in 1971.

Mim Willson-Dekker was born in 1929 in Toowoomba, Queensland. At the age of nine, her mother was widowed and went to work. As a result, Mim was placed in Dr Dill Mackay Home in Auburn, New South Wales. The abusive episodes in her painting took place at Dr Dill Mackay Home, her foster home and thoughout her work as a lab attendant in the Chemistry Department at the University of Queensland.

Depression: Abuse in Children’s Home and at Work as an Adult
Copyright Mim Willson-Dekker 2002
Child Migrants, memories, objects, photos

Belongings

by Adele on 30 March, 2010

See personal objects and find out what they mean to former Child Migrants Eddie Baker, Jan Barby, David Hill, Ian Bayliff and Gwen Cole via the Migration Heritage Centre’s Belongings website.

We, too, are interested in any objects that help to relate personal experiences of life in a children’s home. If you have an object that you would like to lend or donate to the Museum for our pending exhibition, then please contact us.

Forgotten Australians, memories

One-way ticket

by Graham Evans (guest author) on 26 March, 2010

The Journey

Here it is – 1958 – my first experience away from home, the big adventure into the wide-open spaces of life itself.

I was seven years old then; it was a glorious day, early morning sun shining brightly through the side window of my Dad’s old Plymouth, the sounds of birds whistling in the trees, and the sweet scent of wild country flowers.

I sat there pondering; it seemed like ages, wondering where this journey was taking me. We drove on when suddenly I realised something was wrong, then Mum said, “We won’t be long, we will pull over and have a picnic lunch”.

We had our lunch, it was by a stream, such beauty I’ve never seen. I suddenly thought, “Where was Dad?” Mum said, “Don’t worry son, you’re just a lad, and one day when you’re big and strong, I’ll tell you of things that went wrong”.

We sat there having this picnic lunch under a tall chestnut tree, I suddenly looked up and there was Mum, staring at me with tears I’d never seen, such beauty and radiance, just like a queen.

I ran to her side and embraced her tight, when she whispered “Son, it will be all right”. I looked again, and said, “I love you Mum”. She replied, “I hope so, you’re my youngest son”.

I couldn’t stop wondering, “Where was Dad?” It seemed a lifetime and I began to grow sad. So weary my eyes became, I fell asleep.

When I awoke, much to my dismay, we had entered this large school where children played. There were hundreds of them, women in black. My heart told me, I want to go back; to that country town by the dust track, to the place that I loved, to the fields and the trees and most of all to the birds that talked to me.

I stood there so scared and embraced my Mum, when suddenly this woman said, “Come here son, your Mother has to leave on her journey again”. My eyes filled with tears and I started to cry. As she drove off, I heard her say, “I love you son, I’ll be back one day, to take you out in the glorious sun, we’ll have a picnic and have lots of fun”.

As time went by my eyes still filled with tears, here it is now three long years. “I’m never going to see her again”, I said, when Sister Anne called, “It’s time for bed!”

Here is another day, a little schools and lots of play. With the friends that I made, time soon flew by, those tears I cried were deep inside, my heart grew strong, for that place that I loved, the trees, the birds and the stars above, to that country place I once called home, with my Mum and Dad, I was never alone.

As these lonely years rolled over again, I suddenly thought I’m nearly ten, those junior days will soon be gone, to another school, where I had to belong. Four years had gone by, and not once did I see the parents I loved, what was to be.

Sister Anne cried out, “Come have a feed”, then it’s off to the new school they called ‘Westmead”. This school was so different, there was no love, do this, come here, and given a shove, bend over and touch your toes, a whack with a stick or a hit on the nose.

Those Brothers I really started to hate, and they had the audacity to call me ‘mate’.

I never learnt much in all those years, but to stand up for your rights and show no tears.

It was not like the Nuns, I was the teacher’s pet and the love they showed, I soon had to forget. In this school, it was do or die, there was moments I remember I had to cry, to myself you see, that’s the way it had to be.

As time went on I joined the band, to do something to forget, if you could understand. The drums I played to my heart was content, I feel this time was worthwhile spent.

At times I wondered why these Brothers were so cruel, there was something not seen, hidden within this school. A brother of mine was expelled, he stood up for his rights, but didn’t tell, we all punished it was like a living hell.

It went on for years, no one could see, for this brother of mine, they punished me. He did not know, for he’d already gone, away from this place, where no one belonged.

It was 1966, and I loved to run, when all of a sudden this man said, “Son, we’re looking for a child around your size, we’ve been looking for ages, if you can’t realise. His name is Graham, and this is his Mum, if you know him, can you tell son?”

Briefly my heart stopped, much to my dismay. This couldn’t be the woman who put me away. When I turned around she was gone. But I heard her say, she won’t be long. I’ll be away next week, you won’t be alone. I will be back soon, I’m taking you home. Away from this school and their punishing eyes. I’m sorry son I never realised.

I was fourteen when I left and couldn’t look back. The man who spoke to me, his name was Jack. He was to replace the father I never had. I soon became to call him Dad.

As I grew older, we grew apart, but I loved that man with all my heart. He was always there to teach me right, and give me a hug and say goodnight. You know I loved this man called ‘Jack’.

I soon forgot that dusty track, the fields and the tress, and most of all, the birds that talked to me, and the scented breeze.

I went to a new school at Lithgow High, got into some fights, but didn’t cry. They said I was new in town, for this they tried to put me down.

They called me names, but they did not know the troubles I’ve seen down below. I got back up and stood my ground, they tried no more to push me around.

I’m almost twenty-one now and out of play. I got a new job to pay my way. I stayed at Woolies for a couple of years, ‘til I met a girl, who brought me tears.

We all make mistakes, it happened to me. We had a baby and named her Sherie. This woman I love, but it wasn’t to be, a crucial mistake, what is happening to me.

I stayed in touch because I loved the girl, she didn’t want to go out into the great big world. She stayed with her Mum, something I never had, if I took her away, she would only be sad.

So off I went again, to sort out my feelings and get in touch with my brain. I knew I had done wrong, but what could it be, and couldn’t stop thinking of our daughter ‘Sherie’.

Almost twenty-two and I’ve travelled around trying to make ends and settle down. I bought a guitar and I sang around, here and there in these country towns. I was offered a job to pay my way, and this place I thought I’d stay. At least for a while ‘til I got my grips, I played for the love of it and got some tips.

I wrote songs from the heart, you know, and lots of feelings from down below.

I sit here in the loneliness of this room, a vision unveils itself from the gloom. Long red hair, a pretty face, skin as soft as lace. I recognised her instantly. She was a girl so dear to me but she would go and I would know. Yes! She’s gone and left me to the loneliness of this room.

Life goes on, and so must I, it sees the birth of a thousand unwanted lies, but she would stay embedded in my mind, so I could never forget her, and the loneliness of this room. Words like this stuck in my mind, I’d knew I’d forget, but it would take time.

Here it is now nearly December, you know these words I still remember. Now I’m twenty-two and life’s still cruel, I thought: ‘Why did Mum ever choose this school’. I had no friends, they were too far away, no one to talk to and too old to play. What did I do that was so bad, why do I feel empty and sad.

The big twenty-two, it’s a bright new day, I packed my things and on my way. I went back home to Mum and Jack, they were so pleased to see me back.

It was that very night that I had a drink, and I had some more, ‘til I couldn’t think. I started home ‘cause it was so far, in those days I never owned a car, and as I wandered down the lonely road, someone came by in a very slow mode. A cry called out, “Would you like a ride?” I said yes thanks and swallowed my pride. For there was not many people I really knew, you could count them on one hand, there was just a few.

There wasn’t a day that never went by that I didn’t stop and have a cry, or at least a tear, but what could you expect after seven long years. People would say ‘stop’ and ‘don’t be a fool’. I’d like to see them, just one day in that school.

I tried to look back on some good days we had, there wasn’t too many, which was rather sad. We were fostered out on weekends a lot, to different families, whether you liked it or not. I’ll go back to Westmead School and find out why they were so cruel, and why they treated us they like they did, because after all we were only kids. I’d like to see them do it in this day and age, I know you parents would put up a rage.

I’ve seen psychiatrists ‘cause I felt the need, something that was caused by that school ‘Westmead’. I’ve often thought; ‘what was in their mind? To treat us like they did most of the time. What benefit did they really get, to leave us with memories we can’t forget? I am not the only one who is in need, there were lots of us from that school ‘Westmead’.

articles/lectures, Child Migrants, Forgotten Australians, Stolen Generations

Child sex abuse and the church – how they got away with it

by Freda Briggs (guest author) on 26 March, 2010

Ninety-three percent of 4007 self-confessed child molesters claimed to be religious (Abel & Harlow, 2001, p39).

Predators in the Roman Catholic Church

It is now recognised that the sexual abuse of children by Roman Catholic clergy and monks is neither a new problem nor is it caused by ‘celibacy’; it has an extraordinary long history that goes back 2000 years as shown by Dominican priest Father Thomas Doyle, and two former Benedictines, celibacy historian A.W.R Sipe and theologian and canon law expert Patrick Wall in their meticulously researched book, Sex Priests and Secret Codes (2006) . They show that the Venerable Bede, (AD 672/3-735) decreed that clergy who committed sodomy with children should be given increasingly severe penances commensurate with their rank. Laymen would be ex-communicated and made to fast for three years while deacons, priests and bishops had to fast for seven, ten and twelve years respectively (p19). In the 12th and 13th centuries, the crime was labeled as sacrilege, then heresy. Penalties became harsher, including fines, castration, exile and even death. Accused clergy were dealt with by church courts then handed to secular jurisdictions for further punishment. That did not stop the crimes.

Celibacy was discussed from the C4th but only in the Western church. It wasn’t imposed until the second Lateran Council in 1139. One of the explanations presented for the introduction of celibacy was to prevent widows from inheriting church resources.

The introduction of celibacy removed legitimate outlets for sexual release and child abuse continued despite the threat of severe consequences. Reformers such as Martin Luther (1483–1546) and John Calvin (1509 –1564) rejected celibacy given that they could see no biblical or theological justification for it and there was widespread evidence that clergy were hypocritical sinners who violated their vows with men and young boys.

When face-to-face private confessionals were introduced, priests were allowed to hold them in their own homes. They were also given the authority to determine what constituted a sin. This increased the power that sex offenders needed to use young people for sex. Victims were threatened that they would not receive absolution if they were not compliant. It seems that they were afraid of the threat even more than they were afraid of being raped given the church’s teaching that without absolution they would go to everlasting purgatory. An additional hazard was that if victims reported the priest for abuse, they risked being accused of ‘false denunciation’ resulting in ex-communication and that, in turn, would send them to hell. The threat of ex-communication is still used by the Roman Catholic church to control the masses.

On May 30th 2008 it was reported that the Vatican newspaper L’Osservatore Romano proclaimed that the Pope would automatically ex-communicate bishops and anyone who attended or was involved in the Ordination of women. This was meant to control and silence, through fear, the growing number of Catholics who favour women being admitted to the priesthood.

The culture of ‘blame the victim’ evolved as priests became more powerful. The Code of Canon Law 982 contained a canon stipulating that if victims confessed to being sexually abused by priests, the penitents were not to be absolved of sin until a retraction had been made and ‘damages repaired’. This code did not suggest that the priests who coerced and blackmailed parishioners to provide sex should be punished.

Doyle and colleagues claim that, in 2000 years all that changed about child sexual abuse by clergy and monks was the emphasis on secrecy to protect the church hierarchy. They show that this began in earnest in the Vatican in 1922. In 1962, church legislation gave bishops the right to process cases of sex crimes committed by clergy. All those involved, including victims and witnesses, were committed to total and perpetual silence with automatic excommunication if they revealed the abuse to other authorities.

On April 24th 2005, The British newspaper The Observer reported that the Pope was facing allegations that, as Cardinal Ratzinger, he ‘obstructed justice’ by issuing an order to ensure that the church’s investigations into child sex abuse claims be carried out in secret. The order was said to have been sent in a confidential letter to every Catholic bishop by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. The letter extended the church’s jurisdiction and control over sex crimes. It was said to have been co-signed by Archbishop Bertone who, in 2003, said that the expectation that a bishop should contact police to report a priest who confessed to paedophilia was unfounded.

The letter allegedly stated that the church can claim jurisdiction in cases where abuse has been ‘perpetrated with a minor by a cleric’ and the church’s jurisdiction ‘begins to run from the day when the minor has completed the 18th year of age’ and lasts for 10 years. Ratzinger ordered that ‘preliminary investigations’ into any claims of abuse should be sent to his office, which has the option of referring them back to private tribunals in which the ‘functions of judge, promoter of justice, notary and legal representative can validly be performed for these cases only by priests’. ‘Cases of this kind are subject to the pontifical secret’ Breaching the pontifical secret at any time while the 10-year jurisdiction order is operating carries penalties that include excommunication. A lawyer acting for American victims criticised the letter. He said, ‘They are imposing procedures and secrecy on these cases. If law enforcement agencies find out about the case, they can deal with it. But you can’t investigate a case if you never find out about it. If you can manage to keep it secret for 18 years plus 10 the priest will get away with it’.

It is ironic that six months previously, Pope John Paul stated publicly that the church was seeking open and just procedures to respond to complaints of sexual abuse and was committed to compassionate and effective care for victims, their families and communities. This was obviously not taken seriously given that a year later, the Dean of Canon law stated that church leaders should resolve abuse cases themselves without involving police.

Roman Catholic predators in Canada

In the meantime vast numbers of allegations were made public in Canada. On January 12th, 1988, Father James Hickey pleaded guilty to twenty counts of sexual abuse against boys in the various towns where he served as a parish priest over an 18-year period. In the following year, several other clergy were charged. For generations there was an unwritten rule that crimes involving Catholic clergy were dealt with by bishops but when Hickey’s crimes appeared in the news day after day, more victims found the courage to speak out. The church’s response was described as one of ‘self-interested chicanery’ with no concern at all for the victims. As time went on it became increasingly obvious that bishops knew what was happening and had ignored many sexual crimes committed by clergy. This fuelled the anger of the community .

In 1989, the Christian Brothers Mount Cashel Orphanage in St John’s, Newfoundland, was the subject of a state investigation (the Hughes Inquiry) over claims of severe physical and sexual abuse stretching back over decades. In 1975, detectives ‘bucked the system’ to uncover the abuse of the ninety-one young residents but higher authorities terminated their investigations and tried to have the words ‘sexual abuse’ removed from reports. Concerned adults who reported to police were allegedly shown the door with ‘How dare you make up such allegations about the good Brothers’. Fourteen years later, a clergy abuse survivor named Shane Earle called the newspaper office and met journalist Michael Harris. Shane was the first of many victims of the Christian Brothers’ Orphanage to go public. There was such an outcry that the state had little choice but to establish a Royal Commission.

The Hughes Commission proceedings became prime-time viewing throughout Canada. They laid bare a shining example of collective indifference, hypocrisy and failure of the police, judiciary, church and social services to protect the interests of hopelessly vulnerable children. It was revealed that over a 14-year period, 87 persons in positions of power had learned of the happenings at Mount Cashel and did nothing to stop the abuse of boys. Was this because these children, being without parents, were viewed as less than human or was it because, if their claims were taken seriously the state would have had to find alternative, more expensive accommodation; or was it because no one wanted to upset the monks who were held in high regard because they took in disadvantaged children?

In 1990, Harris published Unholy Orders, a best-selling detailed account of the widespread abuse and scandalous cover-ups of criminal behaviour by the Catholic Church and state government. Civil and criminal proceedings followed and 26 priests and Brothers were convicted of sex offences against children in Newfoundland alone, nine of them associated with Mount Cashel Orphanage. The Archbishop resigned and, over time, the provincial government arranged an out-of-court, $18C million settlement for victims and tried to recoup the money from the Brothers.

Roman Catholic predators in the USA

In the US, Catholic dioceses have paid millions of dollars in compensation settlements and some went bankrupt as a result of child sex abuse being covered up by bishops who simply moved accused priests to other parishes where they abused more children. It was reported that some dioceses had to sell schools in poor areas to pay compensation bills and even the poorest of parishioners were asked to contribute to the costs of the defence of clergy and contribute to the compensation bill.

It was reported that 600 children were known to have been abused during the period when Boston’s now notorious Cardinal Bernard Law was in office. He resolved the problem by moving paedophiles to other parishes. He allegedly assured concerned parents that these same priests had unblemished records. Although the Archdiocese closed 65 parishes before Cardinal Law stepped down, his name became synonymous with the nationwide church scandal. Law resigned on December 13th 2002. He moved out of the $20 million three-storey house and initially took a lowly position with Sisters of Mercy. In 2004 victims were further angered when Pope John Paul rewarded Law with a prestigious appointment in Rome which provided its previous incumbent with a salary of  US$12,000 a month. In addition to a long interview on ABC news and lots of photo opportunities, Law was invited to a US Embassy reception for President and Mrs Bush. He was even selected for a role at Pope John Paul II’s funeral. According to a report in the New York Times, when asked whether his concealment of child sex offences entered into the decision to give him new visibility, the Vatican spokesperson said: “I don’t think so.” Cardinal Law is now said to live in opulent surroundings far from unpleasant reminders of his past transgressions. Given the cost of compensation to victims, his successor in Boston had to be satisfied with more modest quarters. Those representing the victims of abuse tolerated by the Cardinal concluded that the Vatican either doesn’t understand the problem of clergy sex abuse or the damage inflicted on victims’ lives, or it simply doesn’t care.

Religious predators in Australia

In 1993–94, Briggs, Hawkins and Williams researched with 198 self-selected male victims of child sex abuse including 84 convicted sex offenders in seven Correctional Centres in Western Australia, New South Wales and South Australia. We asked them how old they were when they had their first sexual experience and overall 15% revealed that they were abused by Catholic priests. In the case of prisoners abused by religious figures when they were aged 11–15 years, one third said they were abused by house-masters in Christian Brothers’ schools and 17% by Catholic priests. In the group of men who had no convictions for sex offending, 29% of those abused between the ages of 11 and 15 years claimed to have been used for sex by Catholic priests, 10% by Christian Brothers, 10% by church youth leaders and 10% by clergy in other denominations. In other words, 59% of the 11–15 year old boys who were abused were the victims of religious figures. Prisoners were 23% more likely than non-offenders to have been abused by monks in school settings.

All those abused in institutions regarded the sex as one comparatively minor aspect of a totally violent and damaging environment that exposed boys to emotional and spiritual abuse, sadism, bestiality, violent and senseless punishments and a continuous process of dehumanisation. When this finding was published with sensationalist headlines a year later in The Australian, the Archbishop of Sydney’s media secretary Fr Brian Lewis told the media that he had conducted his own investigation and found that the researchers’ methodology was unscientific and only Roman Catholic subjects had been interviewed. This was a classic case of ‘dismiss the message and shoot the messengers’. First, it was physically impossible for Father Lewis to have checked out the subjects in three states between the arrival of his newspaper and going to air a few hours later given that interviews were one-hundred-percent anonymous and prisoners were interviewed when they were about to be released. Second, Father Lewis had clearly not read the report published a year earlier by the Australian Institute of Criminology (Criminology Research Council (CRC)) in July 2004 or he would have known that only 21% of subjects interviewed claimed to be Roman Catholics. Third, to receive CRC funding, the methodology obviously had to be approved not only by the university’s ethics committee but by Correctional Services in three states.

Fr Doyle et al (2006) noted that lying by Catholic clergy is supported if it is to protect the institution of the church.

Boarders in West Australian Christian Brothers schools said they were sexually abused from their day of arrival by both housemasters and older boys who, as a rite of passage, were required to become abusers at the age of twelve for the sexual and sadistic pleasure of the monks . Having served their apprenticeship as victims from age 5–12 years, they were required to sexually abuse younger children. In some boarding schools where there were farm animals, monks engaged in bestiality. Not surprisingly, we learned that brothers and priests recruited victims for the brotherhood and priesthood, thus ensuring that child abuse became inter-generational. At the age of eighteen, residents had no experience of relating to the opposite sex or the outside world and remaining in the organisation became an easy option. Some victims said that, after they left boarding school, they were shocked and disgusted to learn about heterosexual sex.

Western Australia’s Christian Brothers’ victims said that abuse was confined to residents who had no visitors. Day boys seemed to have been unharmed and, of course, they supported the Brothers when their crimes were eventually revealed.

The greatest confusion was experienced by boys who were subjected to appalling acts of sexual and physical violence and degradation in the name of God. Victims also carried a great deal of guilt because they experienced jealousy when they saw monks picking up other children from their beds to take to their offices for sex. Although they hated what happened, they said this was the only time they could please the monks and the boys were desperate for approval given that at other times they were beaten with belts with crucifixes until they bled. Some had elastic bands tied tightly around their penises overnight as a punishment for bed-wetting. This practice caused great pain and embarrassment. As adults they continued to suffer from flashbacks, low self-esteem, night-fears, nightmares, mental and physical ill health, depression, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, feelings of inadequacy and self-destruction. Some could not cope with tenderness or being touched and some became (convicted) child sex offenders.

Only 26 of the 198 Australian male victims interviewed by Briggs et al tried to report one of 1700 offenders. Only one succeeded. The parents reported a priest to a senior clergyman and, typically, the priest was sent to a retreat for a few months then moved to another parish. The remaining mothers disbelieved their sons and punished them for dirty talk. A trusted grandma told her grandson that God would rip off the victim’s arms and legs if he told anyone about what the priest had done. When a West Australian social worker reported the Christian Brothers to senior police, she received the same treatment as her Canadian counterparts. State wards in boarding schools were trapped and had no one to tell. A boy in a Catholic College confided in a friend and learned that he, too, was a victim. They reported this together but no action was taken.

On rare occasions, Brothers were moved to other schools in Western Australia then South Australia where they allegedly continued to abuse boys. If bishops knew that child sex offending is lifelong habitual behaviour, they ignored it. More recently, instead of sending them interstate, some have been sent to work with disadvantaged children in Papua New Guinea, Cambodia and developing countries where justice systems can sometimes be manipulated.

Christian Brothers were not the only Australian monks involved in hiding sex crimes. Court reports show that Marists allowed one of their Canberra teachers to continue teaching long after they knew that he was a sex offender. Documents tendered in court revealed that a teacher and one headmaster were told by victims that Brother Kostka had molested them, but the school allowed him to teach for many more years. One alleged victim told police that he reported Kostka because he was concerned that the monk was spending a lot of time with another young boy. He said he was told the next day that “nothing was going to be done regarding his allegation and concerns”. The victim said he returned to the school several years later and told the then-headmaster of the assault. Court reports show that the headmaster challenged the offender who denied the crime and the matter was passed on to Kostka’s “superiors”, not police. The alleged victim was so intent on preventing Kostka from re-offending that he met a senior Marist, Brother Alexis Turton, who became professional standards officer for the organisation. The witness said he was asked “what he wanted” from the Brothers, and was offered counselling. Brother Turton later informed him that Kostka had retired to the Marist’s Mittagong farmhouse. The alleged victim’s brother visited the farmhouse and found Kostka running a drop-in centre for boys. Victims told police he won their trust and confidence before developing a pattern of systemic abuse, some boys being molested on a daily basis. He would often put his hands down boys’ pants while other students were in the room. At other times, he exposed himself and forced boys to touch his genitals. One victim, who was molested in the school cinema, told his parents who, instead of reporting to police, told the headmaster. He is said to have offered to handle the matter “in-house” and Kostka taught for another seven years. Another victim, to whom six of the admitted eleven offences relate, said Kostka abused him for three years “almost daily” and sometimes in the classroom while other students were present. In turn, Kostka “showered him with kindness”. On one occasion, the teacher threatened another victim with expulsion if he told anyone. Kostka’s offences are also the subject of a civil claim for compensation. He pleaded guilty to offences committed in both his office and residence.

Patterns in offending

The sexual abuse of children by Catholic clergy and monks follows set patterns:

  • The priest is perceived as God’s representative on earth which places him in a uniquely powerful position, causing immense fear and confusion for the victim.
  • The child is powerless and under tremendous pressure to keep the abuse secret.
  • The child gains the impression that the abuse is his or her own fault and s/he is bad.
  • Abusers choose compliant children whose parents are devoted to their church and are unlikely to believe complaints or report to police.
  • When abuse has been revealed to church administrators, their response has seldom been responsible and sensitive to victims.
  • The parents’ trust in the bishop makes way for manipulation, intimidation and even deceit leading to further damage to children.
  • A community that is uninformed about child sex abuse supports offending clergy and church leaders and denigrates victims.

Naïve, trusting parents have allowed priests to occupy the same room and even the same bed as their sons when they’ve had too much whisky. Parents were flattered when priests chose their children to be altar boys. They were prouder still when their sons were chosen to accompany priests on outings to other parishes or have sleep-overs in seminaries . Parents did not listen when the boys said they didn’t want to go. Some hoped that the priests’ attention might lead to their children choosing a religious vocation. Others hoped it would provide them with a place in heaven.

Such is the power of the church that when parents in Adelaide and rural Victoria reported priests and monks for sex offences against their sons, the families were ostracised by their Catholic communities and they, not the offenders, were deemed to have brought the church into disrepute. Despite the publicity given to reports of child sex abuse, the idea that clergy can harm children is completely alien to those responsible for their safety, The author was present when a priest walked into a Catholic school at lunchtime, saw a group of eight year old boys in the corridor and asked them if they would like to go to McDonalds. He opened the staff-room door, called out that he was taking kids for Big Macs and away they went. Staff said, ‘Isn’t he cute’. When the author asked whether he had parents’ permission to remove children unsupervised and whether he was insured in case of an accident, the principal said she should conduct her research elsewhere.

Protestant predators

The author was co-author of the Inquiry into the Handling of Child Sex Abuse Cases by the Diocese of Brisbane and the then Governor-General Peter Hollingworth in his capacity as Archbishop. In addition, she acted as consultant to lawyers and professional witness for very large numbers of boys who were abused by clergy and teachers while attending elite church schools in Adelaide and Queensland. All except two cases involved the abuse of boys. We know from Abel and Harlow’s (2001) research with 4007 child sex offenders that men who abuse boys start at a younger age and abuse many more victims than those who abuse girls. The abusers were mostly single; colleagues thought they were gay. While Roman Catholic, Anglican priests and Christian Brothers used their authority to abuse children in state care and were often sadistic and violent, the Protestants tended to have less power than Roman Catholics and were more likely to have to resort to the grooming methods commonly associated with paedophilia.

Paedophile priests and church leaders typically befriended the parents of selected victims, choosing those most dedicated to their church. This improved their access to boys and greatly reduced the risk that parents would report them to police if their behaviour was discovered. They visited the families, stayed for dinner and found ways to involve prospective victims in activities outside their homes. Adelaide Anglicare worker Robert Brandenberg attended the author’s local church and ran the Church of England Boys’ Society (CEBS) for 37 years. The Society accommodated a tri-state paedophile network. The published history of CEBS in Tasmania includes the names of at least four men who were subsequently charged with child sexual abuse. Tasmania’s former Archdeacon Louis Daniels pleaded guilty to thirteen counts of sex offences against young boys between 1973 and 1993. Abuse survivor Steve Fisher said that priests would go to each other’s houses taking boys with them to be sexually assaulted. Victimised by the Rev. Garth Hawkins, Fisher alleged there was an organised paedophile ring in Tasmania involving doctors and MPs as well as clergy.

In 2003, the author was invited to provide seminars for clergy and parishioners in the Hobart Diocese. The request was made because, uninformed about the nature of sex offences and the grooming methods used, clergy and the church community found it difficult to believe that their beloved and highly respected Archdeacon led a double life.

Robert Brandenberg also gained everyone’s trust. He asked parents’ permission to take groups to football matches. Some parents were suspicious about a single man spending all his time with boys instead of adults and when their sons returned home, uneasy parents asked, ‘Is everything alright (or OK)?” They later learned that young people don’t associate ‘alright’ and ‘OK’ with sex. Assured that everything was alright, they gradually relaxed and when Brandenberg sought permission to take boys to a camp in the country, parents agreed, assuming (wrongly) that there was ‘safety in numbers’. Sadly it is as easy to abuse a group of boys as it is to abuse an individual .

Brandenberg made his home attractive to young people with poker and pinball machines, alcohol, pornography and popular music by the Clash, the Buzzcocks and Sex Pistols. He took kids to Chinese restaurants and let them drive his Datsun (illegally). He also had a spa pool that he used to persuade new victims to undress. A victim described him as being ‘really good if you did what he wanted but he would dump you if you didn’t’. Brandenberg routinely gave boys marijuana and alcohol before abusing them at home, in his Anglicare office and at three camps in South Australia and interstate. He displayed photographs of an estimated 200 victims on a 3m by 1m notice board in his home.

“It was a trophy room, there were about 200 photographs of boys,” a victim said. “He used to brag about how many boys he had done it to and then dumped.”

Brandenberg suicided (1999) after being charged with offences against 26 boys,) It was later estimated that he had abused and raped more than 200 boys aged from 7–15 years.

In 2003 the rector of the parish, the Reverend Donald Owers and the brother of a victim, the Reverend Andrew King were concerned that the authorities had known about Brandenberg’s crimes for several years and chose to ignore them and his victims. They called for an independent inquiry to investigate the response of the Church, saying they had raised concerns for the past four years, only to be ignored. Finally, the synod decided to establish a two-person board of inquiry to deal with the claims . One outcome of the public call for an inquiry was that the South Australian Police set up a task force to investigate 65 complaints involving 17 different child sex offenders connected with the Anglican church.

In the meantime, it was alleged that, despite mandatory reporting legislation, an accused chaplain at Adelaide’s prestigious St. Peter’s College, the Rev. Mountford, had been given the opportunity to leave the country before police were informed of reports of sexual crimes involving students.

In 2003, Governor-General Peter Hollingworth submitted to pressures to resign one month after the publication of the report by O’Callaghan and Briggs on the handling of child sex abuse by his diocese when he was Archbishop of Brisbane. It was widely thought that Hollingworth ‘shot himself in the foot’ in media interviews where he was perceived as blaming victims. A year later, Adelaide’s Archbishop George also took early retirement following pressure to resign.

So why did sex offenders get away with their crimes?

First, according to Doyle et al (2006) Catholic church was only interested in the preservation of the institution and its assets. They saw the wave of bankruptcy as a means of concealing assets and the colossal sums spent on defending criminal clergy. Legislation dating back to 1517, provides an interesting definition of the roles of priests presented in the following order:

  • preserving the image of the church
  • protecting the finances of the church
  • protecting the property of the church
  • to hear confessions, distribute communion, administer last rites and instruct the flock
  • to ‘function as an agent of the bishop, transmitting and receiving information concerning the desired diocesan order”

The diocese ‘had no need for laity interference’ (Doyle et al p280)

Second, too many bishops and clergy were seen to have violated the celibacy rule and through their violations, they relinquished moral credibility in every aspect of sexuality. Evidence also shows that clerical candidates were often subjected to homosexual sex in seminaries – both Catholic and Anglican. Corruption does not stem from the bottom up; it rains down from the top (Doyle et al, p278). However it is not celibacy that causes paedophilia; rather it is that paedophiles are unaffected by the ban on marriage and are attracted to positions that give them power over people and children in particular. Third, the grooming process targets devout families. Parents who felt honoured that their children had been chosen for special attention unwittingly facilitated the abuse by permitting overnight stays and encouraging their children to take on a role beyond that of the alter boy.

Fourth, when the cleric introduces sex, victims typically freeze and are paralysed or stunned into cooperation and disbelief. Moral and spiritual confusion are inevitable when a child has been reared in an environment that teaches that any form of sexual expression outside marriage, (especially homosexuality), is a sin. And yet here we have the priest – God’s representative and the personification of strict sexual morality – demanding sinful sexual acts. Confusion, guilt and shame are especially toxic if victims’ bodies respond to sexual touch… as most do. An additional dilemma is that the sinner is expected to confess to the priest who, being supposedly the very source of relief from sin is also the cause of it.

Fifth: Many victims felt powerless as they became trapped in ongoing abuse that often lasted for years. They could not report it because they thought (often rightly) that they wouldn’t be believed or, when in orphanages, there was no one to report it to. Those who tried to make reports were disbelieved, returned to the monks and beaten. They had to accept abuse as normal because they had to live with it. Unfortunately acceptance is linked to victims becoming victimizers.

Sixth: Apart from fear and shame, victims had to deal with the church hierarchy. Those who made reports to bishops were often treated as the victimizers and sinners. In other religious organizations (eg Jehovah’s Witness), some victims were made to forgive their abusers in public but the latter did not have to apologise to them.

Seventh: Some abuse, such as that experienced in some Christian Brother Orphanages, met the definitions of terrorism and torture. Victims were terrified into submission.

Eighth: There were often strong traumatic emotional ties based on an imbalance of power. The victim suffered intimidation, threats and violence combined with awe and fear.

Finally, when abusers were church organists, choirmasters and teachers, they provided something that victims needed such as a mastery of music, a place in a coveted team or they professed to love their victims.

In Anglican church schools there appears to have been a great deal of ignorance relating to the habitual nature of abuse and its damaging effects. Church responses were typically directed by insurers’ lawyers who instructed bishops and archbishops not to apologise to victims. Happily, the current Anglican Primate chose to ignore this tradition that caused so much distress and anger.

When child sex abuse occurred in religious schools, it was invariably facilitated by unsafe practices. The schools lacked child protection policies and child protection/personal safety curriculum that has been available in some state schools since 1985. Uninformed staff and principals seem to have been ignorant of grooming methods and the harmful effects of abuse on victims’ lives. Perpetrators gained their trust so that they missed or ignored the cues. The counsellor who abused hundreds of boys over many years was not monitored. With 50 minute lessons, he was able to remove students for hours at a time because teachers did not talk to each other and check absences. He was able to lock his room. When victims exhibited angry behaviours and were suspended he was able to provide counselling in his home where he lived alone and, of course the abuse continued. Being a counsellor he saw the most vulnerable children. He indicated to staff and victims that he was a friend of the headmaster and that gave him power. Teachers didn’t report their suspicions. When he suicided after being charged, the school held a memorial service that angered victims because it lauded him and ignored the circumstances of his death.

Ignorant head teachers often give evidence in court that the accused was the most enthusiastic and popular teacher the school ever had. They then describe the typical paedophile/pederast. He provided a range of out of school activities that gave him unsupervised contact with students at camps, drama and choir rehearsals and weekend sport. He related to the children at their own level. Kids vied to go on his camps; of course they did, he provided alcohol, dirty-talk, cigarettes and porn. When offenders present the image of being dedicated to the community, colleagues and parents support them even when they have been apprehended.

At a world conference in 2007 the author chaired the presentation of American research findings showing that child sexual abuse by clergy causes more long-term psychological harm than intrafamilial or stranger abuse because of the spiritual dimension and the fact that when they disclosed abuse to trusted people, they were not believed or supported. In a survey of 342 male victims 34% said that the person to whom they turned for help ignored them and only 7% experienced any action to protect them from religious offenders.

Are we there yet?

Have the churches learned their lesson from the massive compensation payments they have had to pay – the buildings they had to sell and the schools they had to close? Abuse survivors are under the impression that church authorities ‘still don’t get it’. There is evidence to suggest that complacency quickly returned. Last year when the author was invited to present child protection seminars for schools that paid out vast sums in compensation, staff didn’t think they needed to attend because ‘it happened a long time ago and he’s dead (or moved on)’. Some of the offender’s peers didn’t believe he was guilty anyway so child protection wasn’t perceived as relevant. Although child protection protocols had been introduced, child protection curriculum for children had not.

Since 2004, dioceses have been adopting policies for the reintegration of convicted sex offenders. The rationale is that they cannot prevent people from attending church other than by obtaining restraining orders via the courts and someone banned from one church could join another. A convicted priest who sought the retention of Holy Orders, had received no treatment in prison and continued to blame the victim but was welcomed into a church choir that included children and, from the responses on the Internet, he quickly groomed the congregation. Other parolees suggested that he had not been rehabilitated because treatment helps offenders to avoid places of temptation, not return to them.

Churches are wonderful places for paedophiles because they attract good-hearted people who believe in forgiveness and give others the benefit of the doubt. Offenders can say sorry on Sunday and re-offend on Monday confident that God will forgive them again next week. We know that offenders are highly skilled manipulators who will groom whole congregations. Some church leaders don’t seem to realise that paedophilia is not akin to a traffic offence or even robbing a bank; convicted paedophiles and pederasts may have paid their debt to society according to law but that doesn’t mean that they won’t re-offend. There is no evidence to show that religion cures paedophilia – to the contrary – and the church’s eagerness to follow the teaching of Jesus and forgive offenders could prove to be yet another costly exercise, placing it and children at further risk.

It seems that we have a long way to go before those responsible for church communities have a sound understanding of child sex offending. Quite clearly, there needs to be an educational programme of substance for church leaders of all denominations as well as for new recruits in theological colleges. All schools need child protection curriculum for children from pre-school through to secondary as has been available in New Zealand and, to a lesser extent, in state schools in New South Wales since 1985 and now in South Australia. All teachers need to be trained to recognise abuse and the grooming methods used by abusers. Community education would also be helpful.

On June 17th, 2008 the Premier of South Australia and heads of all the churches apologised to victims of abuse that happened while in their care. The Premier said that ‘sorry’ is not enough. There has to be action too. The families of victims made it clear that they are a forgotten constituency and there needs to be church-sponsored research into their needs. In terms of possible re-connection with their faith and the possibility of finding healing in that re-connection, there needs to be research into what abuse victims, family members and other ‘church damaged’ people would find helpful.

Four years ago, church leaders saw the need for research into the methods used by convicted clergy and church personnel in both Anglican and Roman Catholic churches to seduce children and their families. They needed to know what power structures helped to perpetuate abuse and how the church could re-organise itself in order to prevent a re-occurrence in the future. Has that research been done? If not, why not?

No doubt some think that churches have moved on… that there is an awareness of the prevalence and destructiveness of abuse and that protocols are in place to make children safer. The churches can’t take credit for that. In Queensland it was the persistence and courage of journalist Amanda Gearing, Bravehearts’ Hetty Johnston and survivors such as Beth Heinrich, who, often at great personal cost, led to the Inquiry into the church’s handling of abuse. In SA it was the Rev. Don Owers and (now deceased) the Rev. Andrew King, survivors and the media who forced the church to live up to its values.

Recent changes and new measures must not be seen as an end in themselves but as an intermediate stage in an organisational process. The next stage must be to ensure that espoused aims in responding to victims are adopted in church culture. Owers points out that there is little evidence of the Anglican church being willing to engage realistically with survivors, their families or advocates. Despite the apology, the Healing Steps protocol was launched in Adelaide without any consultation with survivors . Despite protests there was no attempt to create structures that would allow stakeholders to have any input into relevant church policy. Owers found that, at best survivors were only asked to comment on documents already written. And were survivors involved in the production of the draft on the reintegration of convicted sex offenders into their parishes.

Sadly, from the victim’s perspective the church response is characterised by controlling, paternalistic attitudes that assume the right to impose solutions, thus continuing the pattern of disempowerment that contributed to their victimisation in the first place. This creates barriers to healing and deprives the church of unique opportunities for learning. Genuine and committed dialogue between survivors and church leaders would offer the promise of new knowledge, better prevention and capacities for healing. Church leaders could then hold up their heads and truthfully say that they have taken the complaints seriously.

About the author

Emeritus Professor Freda Briggs AO is a researcher and lecturer in child development at the University of South Australia, Magill Campus. In 2003 she was co-inquirer into the handing of sex abuse cases by the Diocese of Brisbane. She is the author of 17 books relating to child protection and has researched in Australia with child sex offenders, victims, their families and professionals reporting abuse. Her awards include:

  • Order of Australia, 2005
  • Rotary International Service Award, 2005
  • Queen’s Centenary Medal, 2003
  • Senior Australian of the Year, 2000–01
  • inaugural Australian Humanitarian Award, 1998
  • ANZAC Scholarship for research of value to Australia and New Zealand, 1997
art, Forgotten Australians, memories, poetry

Finding the answer

by Leigh Westin (guest author) on 25 March, 2010

Mummy passed away when I was four
Sent to Scarba where they closed the door.
My family was taken
My heart is breaking
Too young to know WHY!!!
Mummy is in heaven, so high in the sky.
Not given a chance to say good-bye.
Through a thick glass wall,
I could see my sisters.
I try to reach them, my hands have blisters.
Daddy brought my brothers to see us,
Then they were gone
Blown away like dust.
No-one to talk to about my pain,
wanting my family back to-gether again.
Little birds flying high in the sky,
‘Send Mummy back, I don’t want her to die’
The birds flew up and flew so high,
Mummy didn’t come back
I don’t know why!!

I’m older now and understand,
why god took my mum to live in the sky.
She’s an angel and watching over me
easing the pain so I can get by.

Forgotten Australians, memories

Our story

by Carmel Durant (guest author) on 5 March, 2010

LOST CHILDHOOD

The Great Depression of the late 1920s–1930s not only deprived hundreds out of work but also redundancy. This had a flow on effect of poverty and sickness.

Both our parents were very sick, due to poverty and malnutrition. To help out families with children, soup kitchens were established at the schools.

Indelibly etched in my memory was seeing my Mother very sick in hospital. Within a few days of this visit, my two sisters and myself and a very small suitcase were put on a train with woman we did not know, nor did we know where we were going, and that would be the last we would ever see of our home for life. We were now ‘STATE WARDS’. I was eleven years old.

We arrived at ‘Bidura’Home in Glebe. It was all so different, as we had never been to the City or away from our country town. On arrival our small suitcase was taken, were issued with blue uniforms and black stockings. We were chastised for not saying ‘thank you’ to the person in charge when we received our outfits. Most embarrassing, was having to strip in front of at least six complete strangers … walk up three steps to the bath and, as a matter of routine, having your head ‘treated’, no matter what your age.

Within a week or so we were taken to Camperdown Hospital to have our Tonsils and Adenoids removed.

Chores were allocated in the Home. My job was to make numerous beds in the dormitory, sweep and scrub the floor, then asked the supervisor to inspect it and if passed then you could go to ‘SCHOOL’. This was one room in the grounds with no qualified teacher. We did craft, mainly puppets.

Saturday came and we would be fitted out from the ‘clothes cupboard’, containing frocks, shoes etc. What looked OK, is what you wore to Church on Sunday. Another child would have that outfit next Sunday. We were marched in line to the church, then back to the Home and back in uniform.

We hadn’t been in the Home very long when our Dad came, and talking us onto the Black and White tiled verandah, at the front of the Home, he told us our Mum had died. She was only thirty six. There was no support or gentleness from those in charge!

Came the day and down to the ‘store room’ we went to be fitted out with a new set of clothing and off to our ‘Guardian’ [or ‘foster mother’]. She was a lady with her grown son, at Waverley. Her husband was a train driver up Newcastle way.

We three shared a double bed and on Saturdays we would spend the day burning the bed bugs with a lighted candle. We did not sit at the dining table; we sat at a small table in the laundry. The drink that we had was made from discarded tea leaves with hot water poured over them.

I remember the cases of tomatoes kept under the bed. They were kept so long they were unfit for consumption, but they were good enough as far as our Guardian was concerned to be put in our sandwiches for school. The Nuns, at Holy Cross, noticed that we were not eating lunch and throwing the sandwiches in the garbage. They gave me money to buy either a pie or a sandwich, which I broke in three and shared with my sister, so that we all had a small amount to sustain us. The episode was reported to the then called Child Welfare, with the result that we were returned to ‘Bidura’.

My next job at the Home was to help in the kitchen. I spread bread with Golden syrup (no butter) for the children coming back from ‘School’, help prepare meals, help feed the small children, help prepare the food and to do the washing up.

It was time to go back to the ‘store room’ for a new set of clothing. This time we were headed off to Mittagong. Our ‘Guardian’ this time, in my opinion, was a very caring person. We all worked together in our little garden. She took us up to see our Dad, who was in Randwick Hospital. We could only see him from a distance as he had a contagious disease.  She let us be children. However, this was short-lived. I came home from school one afternoon to find her lying on the bedroom floor, she had had a Stroke and later passed away.

Back to ‘Bidura’ … we knew the routine by now. My allocated work at this time was, wake up at 5.30 am and wake the staff with their morning tea. 6am, set the table in their dining room, bring their meals, clear the tables, clear the dining room and wash their dishes. Then there was the Black and White tiled verandah out in front to be scrubbed. This was the daily routine, then go to the ‘School’.

Back to the ‘store room’ for another outfit, this time we were off to Mascot.

We were not allowed to go inside the house only for meals and to sleep. We spent the majority of our time in a little tin shed in the backyard that had a piece of hessian covering the entrance. We were there even when it was raining. We occupied ourselves by making small craft. My youngest sister had been given a small toy which she loved, she dressed it. One afternoon after arriving back from school we were devastated to find the toy and the little bits of craft had been burnt or thrown away. You daren’t ask ‘why?’.

Saturdays were spent cutting the lawn down on our hands and knees, as all we had to cut it with was a pair of hand shears and scissors. Also down on our knees we swept the kitchen floor with a dust pan and brush, and then we had to scrub it. We also had to make sure there was enough coal inside for a fire.

Our Dad, who was ill in Randwick, sent us lollies from time to time. These would be rationed out to us; also the letters he wrote would be opened and censored. Then came the day when the ‘Guardian’ told us there would be no more sweets or letters as our Father had died … There were no hugs or soothing words.

On my sister’s tenth birthday we were sent out to the Cemetery, out Malabar way, to place on our ‘Guardian’s’ husband’s grave. He had passed away three weeks after we arrived. While we were there the wild yellow flowers were out, so we picked some and went around putting them on other graves. What child has ever spent a birthday like that?

During all these years we were not encouraged to have friends around or go to anyone else’s place. No one to play with nor did have any celebrations such as birthdays or Christmas. We were at ‘Bidura’ for one Christmas and we were given two boiled lollies … no toys or anything we could cherish.

Our younger brother was placed in a different Home; he was only five years old. Then he was placed in a Remand Home (only five) … he had not done anything wrong.  He was then place in the care of a very wealthy family in Bellevue Hill. We did not see him for some years. At this family home (who entertained a lot) he was expected to carry chairs and down flights of stairs. He had contracted TB of the ankle and had one leg in a caliper, so this was difficult for him. Our Grandmother who came down from the country to see him was horrified and eventually gained ‘Guardianship’ of him and took him back to our country town. He was now seven years old.

For me, all this Trauma came to an end the day I turned eighteen, but my two sisters remained on for a while. My second sister went back to ‘Bidura’ and my youngest sister entered the Convent.

Through our adversities, we all achieved our ambitions. My second sister and I became Trained Nurses and our youngest sister became a Teacher, also helping out the homeless and a mentor to many. Myself, I became an In-charge Nurse of the Operating Theatres and Emergency Department for many years. Our youngest brother became a Motor Mechanic.

Our Parents would have been proud of what we achieved.

I am now Eighty-Two years old and these memories remain very clear. What happened to our Childhood?

My young brother was fortunate enough to go to the Apology given by the Prime Minister Mr Kevin Rudd.

These are not just stories, they are FACT and now all of these events will be believed!

Written by Carmel Durant (nee Green) January 2010

Child Migrants, memories, photos

Dhurringile boys

by Hugh McGowan (guest author) on 2 March, 2010

Dhurringile Rural Training Farm for Boys opened in Tatura, Victoria, in 1947. The photograph below, taken on 12 September 1961, depicts five boys from the Quarriers Home near Glasgow, Scotland, leaving to travel to London on the “Flying Scotsman” where they boarded the SS Orion to travel to Australia. The boys are saying farewell to their cottage mothers and the superintendent who were responsible for their care in Quarriers Homes.

The boys arrived in Australia on 15 October 1961 and were taken to Dhurringile Rural Training Farm for Boys until it closed in 1964. Those who were left were transferred to Kilmany Park Home for Boys in 1964. Hugh McGowan stayed there until early 1966 when he left the institution system for good.

Robert Galt (top left), Richard McAllister (top centre), Edward Curran (top right), Hugh McGowan (bottom left) and Matthew Robert Smith (deceased) (bottom right)
art, Forgotten Australians, poetry

Coming together

by Leigh Westin (guest author) on 2 March, 2010

We are “The Forgotten Australians”,
Whose childhood was taken from us.
Put in homes and orphanages
for doing “NO” wrong.
Some of us became state wards,
The welfare and the government
treated us like scum.
A lot were abused in all shapes &
forms & could tell no-one.

We are worthy we are strong
coming together, we are “ONE”.

We were called “liars and thieves”.
government authorities we could never
please.
Our minds & bodies were broken,
by people who didn’t care.
No play! No love! To us it wasn’t fair.
We had NO voice, we had NO choice!
& nothing to rejoice.
No birthdays! No christmas! No toys!
we were lost little girls and boys.
Who were our families?
We were left with horrendous memories.
We prayed to god to help us,
but his followers let us down.
On our own, abandoned and put down.

We are worthy, we are strong
coming together, we are “ONE”.

We are troubled & tormented
our lives forever changed.
We are proud & free to agree.
Childhood memories are forever
tattooed in our hearts.
With our strength & friendship the
tattoos will hopefully fade from our
pasts.

We are worthy, we are strong
coming together we are “ONE”.

We are “The Forgotten Australians”
& together we will sing out loud.
Now we hold our heads up high
& together we are proud.
People will remember “us” & all that we
have been through.
We could be your neighbours or even
your best friend.
So remember us until we reach the end.

We are worthy, we are strong
coming together we are “ONE”.

Forgotten Australians, memories, photos

Winlaton file photos

by Lynn Meyers (guest author) on 1 March, 2010

I was admitted to Winlaton on the 14th of Sept 1959. I was on remand for a few months in Goonyah – the lock up block at Winlaton. I travelled to Bendigo court a few times, then I was made a ward of the state until I turned 18. I was committed under my stepfather’s name which was Koplick. I only found out when I went to court that my real name (birth certificate) is Meyers. I was there until 3/2/1962 when I was sent to QLD to my stepfather, who was deemed unsuitable in my files. I still do not know why they sent me to him. All the reports about him including the accommodation were unsuitable. I was given a tiny room at the back of his farm house, it did not have a real bed only boards supported by small stumps of wood. For bed covers he gave me an old army great coat. In fact he did not pick me up from the airport, he sent the local publican to get me. I had to stay with them at their hotel until he picked me up.

I ran away to find my mother who was living about 80 km away at Parckridge. I hitchhiked to her place and when I got there she was not there, so I waited in her house until she finely came home. She was amazed to see me. She did not want me to stay with her as she said she had made a new life and family. So she and Bob took me back to Waterford to my stepfather. I was not there long when I hitched back to Melbourne, to girls I really did know from the home. It did not take long for the police to pick me up and I was back in Winlaton again in 1963. I can not remember how long, but I am sure it was only for a few months, then off to Fairlea Women’s Prison. Another revolving door, for the next few years.

Goonyah is the first block that I was sent to in Winlaton, it was the secure lock up block. We never went outside from this block until we were deemed fit and behaving to the screws’ liking, and then we would earn the privilige to be transferred to Warrina, the second block. There we were always locked in at night. However we were allowed to go to school or do chores during the day. The next block was Karingal, this was the last block that we went to if we were behaving at Warrina. This was called the open block,where we were groomed to be sent home or to Leawarra hostel or foster parents.

I was sent to Leawarra twice, but I absconded with 3 other girls.We were caught at Wodonga and sent back to Goonyah.

Forgotten Australians, memories

A chilling account

by Junita Lyon (guest author) on 1 March, 2010

Junita Lyon, a resident of  Parramatta Girls Home in 1970–71, remembers her time in the institution.

During my childhood I was committed to Parramatta Girls Training School where many degrading acts were part of Policy and Procedures.

On arriving at Parramatta I was held for hours in a holding room. Taken away and given a number and fitted for various types of clothing such as shoes, twinsets tartan skirts, underwear smocks and socks. My long hair was cut like a page boy, it devastated me and I was taken to dormitory 2 to start my 12 months committal period.

Every morning we were woken early and had to stand at the end of our beds and display our sheets to an officer, to make sure that we had not soiled or wet them. We would then make the bed to procedure and head of to our pre breakfast work.

We started our hard working day early, some went off to yard duty to pick up rubbish or sweep, others cleaned and scrubbed the dormitories before breakfast muster.

We would muster each time the bell rang and would stand to attention while being yelled at or belittled. Left Right Left Right Left Right we marched, we didn’t go anywhere with out some officer marking time.

In the morning we would be marched to breakfast to porridge with weevils, sweet warm white tea and white bread that every one said was made at the prison next door and they had ejaculated in it.

If we needed medical assistance or had our periods and wanted a pad, we would have to wait for help then it was a public ordeal, having to show the pads to prove if we were having a heavy period or not. There was no privacy at all.

After breakfast and a quick recreation break we were assigned to a variety of Jobs a few were able to continue their education but nearly all were trundled off to the kitchen sewing room or laundry to Iron, wash, scrub or fold, a thankless task as was anything we did at Parramatta, I never heard praise for a job well done.

The laundry was a hard place to work we worked at the same pace as adults, it was hard on your legs and back and the temperature was unbearable, if you behaved you could get the opportunity to change jobs. Generally most of the girls were standing at ironing boards ironing from morning till late afternoon the work was repetitive and caused aches and pains to the body.

While in the laundry the job that I aspired to was to use the large industrial washing machines as I was bad at ironing, this was also hard work lifting heavy bundles of clothes.

After my time in the laundry I got a job painting the dormitories and other areas of the home, we worked in a small group and I painted one dormitory after another. It was sad to have to paint over the written history the girls had scratched on to the dungeon walls.

The painting job saved me from more trouble as I had to behave to keep the job and the officer that was with us was a very old lady who gave us a bit more freedom to talk, than anyone else there.

We were given chocolate cake and milk to absorb the lead paint we used.

I often heard my name called “under the bell” that would mean punishment either Isolation or scrubbing.

I spent time in Isolation; I actually liked the 24 hour stint, time to be on my own, I vented my anger, pain, frustration and confusion in written form on a blackboard which was the only thing in the room.

It was during these times I would think about the events that lead me to Parramatta and my drug addiction, why after so much pain, why more was being inflicted, Isolation was where I cried.

Scrubbing was the most common punishment and we often scrubbed the pigeon loft or cover way in groups called scrubbing parties.

The pigeon loft and I were common companions I remember the bird poo running down my arms and upsetting my eyes, kneeling scrubbing boards then standing scrubbing rafters, till my knees were raw for days on end from early morning till late at night depending on which officer I upset. Often we were set to work scrubbing the cover way with a scrubbing brush or toothbrush.

This cold lonely punishment was quite frightening at night for a 14-15 year old; often a girl could be left there scrubbing and almost forgotten about.

Punishment seemed to be given out at random, one time I spent 3 days with steel wool shining a rubbish bin with no cover during winter and another time I had to stand face to face with another girl and not smile or laugh for a whole day.

One time I was grabbed by the ears and my head was bashed up against a wall, this was a regular occurrence for many of us girls.

One cold night I was scrubbing on my own on the cover way and was called into the office I then had my head bashed into the wall till I cried.

That night I decided I wasn’t going to be bashed again so set up a devious plan.
The first chance I got I found a rock and smashed my head with it, so there was blood dripping down my face, I screamed and yelled, that It was caused by the bashing.
I had been pushed too far and my time as a street kid had taught me to protect myself.

I get sad when I think of this moment the fact, that I had to inflict self harm to myself to protect myself from my carer still gives me a chill to this day.

We lacked any privacy to undergo personal hygiene the toilets had no doors and we were given only a few sheets of toilet paper, a humiliating event.

I also remember the fear that welled up, during the time we would stand naked in a cubicle and an officer would walk around and have us drop our towels and inspect our naked bodies for tattoos, scratching and pins.

Some officers were creepier than others in the way they did this task and made you feel very uncomfortable or quite terrified.

Before we had a shower of an evening we also had to scrub the crutch of our underwear and show it to an officer.

All these sanctioned acts were degrading and have haunted me all my life…

Our escape from misery and brutality as young girls was to each other; our friendships were often intense and emotional. We crocheted hankies and wrapped soap in them as gifts to our special friends.

During our short recreation time, records and dancing under the cover way was how we spent our time, being careful not to be caught doing anything against the rules.
We danced the Parramatta Jive to songs such as blue angel and band of gold.
During this time we almost felt normal.

During dinner if you dropped your peas off your plate, talked or did anything menial you washed all the dishes, when everyone had finished.

There was always an officer on the prowl to look for someone to punish.

After dinner, if a dormitory had behaved overall 1 to 5, except 3, were able to use the recreation or TV room sitting on cold hard metal chairs in a cold hall watching a show that you never got to see the end. Usually dormitory 3 were standing at the end of their beds; during my time there this was the group punishment.

I only got to go in the rec room once, so we lost privileges easy.

Not many girls had visitors as many girls had spent there lives institutionalised or in foster care.

Those that did have visitors would meet them, on the cover way on a Sunday and many girls were randomly body searched after the visit.

There were certain girls that officers would take a dislike too, if you were singled out for punishment you would most likely end up at Hay. So the threat of more brutality was always hanging over our heads.

During my stay I spent time in  dormitory’s  2,4,3,5,6 I saw  a lot of injustice.

We as children needed protection and nurturing we were not given that protection and were often abused and degraded by the officers and treated like hardened criminals. Most girls in Parramatta were committed because they were neglected, abused or unloved.

The courts would then charge the girls with exposed to moral danger and commit them to a 3,6,9 or 12 months committal period. I saw many girls return after a few weeks of being let out as they were sent back to their abusers and didn’t cope. Life was tough and unjust for a Parragirl.

On the 16th of November Prime Minister Kevin Rudd made an apology to the “Forgotten Australians”

I welcomed this apology as my time in care has haunted me my whole life.
For me this apology is life changing, it validates the abuses of my child rights that occurred and gives me back my self worth.

I was a small child subjected to harsh punishment; criticism and lack of nurturing that affected my development and sent me spiralling into despair for many years.

It created family disengagement, lack of education and left me with low self esteem, and the inability to feel any belonging.

It created in me an outcast a loner, hiding in shame that did not fit in with others.
An apology cannot fix the damage already done but it creates in me a feeling of relief because it removes the feeling of guilt and shame I have lived with.

Forgotten Australians, memories

Britain apologises to former child migrants

by Adele on 1 March, 2010

On February 24, 2010, at a reception in Westminster Britain’s Prime Minister Gordon Brown apologised on behalf of the nation for Britain’s role in sending thousands of children overseas until the late 1960s.

Child Migrant Apology

Mr Harold Haig, the secretary of the International Child Migrants Association, responded to the Prime Minister’s apology on behalf of child migrants and their families.

Child Migrant Apology – Response
Forgotten Australians, memories, poetry

Memories

by Beth Pinkerton (guest author) on 22 February, 2010

I didn’t really have any memories until I saw the ad in the paper for the Parragirls Reunion and Hay trip.
I wasn’t in Hay, but I went.
Sitting in that bus with all the women, was the first time I have ever felt I fit in.
I remember the girls coming back from Hay.
The way they came to attention and the way they looked at the floor.

The Hay girls were the best bit of advertising Parramatta ever did.
Their behaviour terrified me.
What had happened to them to make them like that?

I kept that in mind when I was sent out to work from Bethal.
I had seen the superintendent so many times ‘visiting’ a girl in Bethal.
So when I refused to go back out to work, because the man I worked for was assaulting me. Our superintendent made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Either go back out to work and let that man have sex with me, or, go to Hay.
I took the first option.

I came out of that place broken.
I stayed that way until I gave up using when I was 48.
I am now 58.
My life only really started when I turned 50.
All those years wasted in violent relationships and addiction.

I went to the apology on the bus with the Parragirls.
I cried because I saw so many men and women like me, broken and ill.
I cried because finally we had been acknowledged.
But for me sorry isn’t enough.

But it’s a start.

articles/lectures, Child Migrants, Forgotten Australians, Stolen Generations

Sorry seems to be an easier word

by Adele on 10 February, 2010

The following article was published online on openDemocracy, a British website dedicated to the discussion of human rights and democracy. ‘Sorry seems to be an easier word’: Brown and the politics of apology reveals the issues raised, for Britain, by Mr Rudd’s National Apology to Forgotten Australians and former Child Migrants.

art, Forgotten Australians, memories, painting

Bonney’s paintings

by Bonney Djuric (guest author) on 20 January, 2010

Bonney Djuric  is the Founder of Parragirls – Parramatta Female Factory Precinct Inc. Parragirls is a contact register and support group for Forgotten Australians committed to State Welfare Institutions.

Born in Victoria, Bonney spent her childhood years in rural Gippsland. She is the second eldest of six siblings and divorced mother/foster mother of five children.

By the time she was 9 her father had deserted the family leaving them in poverty and driven by shame and desperation her mother relocated the family in Sydney. In those days women’s wages were low and government benefits were well below the poverty line. Evicted from their home help came in the form of public housing in Sydney’s far western suburbs. Bonney continued at school until 14 leaving to take work as a junior office assistant. Again tragedy struck when she was picked up on her way to work one morning and raped. A court hearing ensued and the offenders were exonerated. For months following the case Bonney and her family were harassed by the offenders and others and in desperation she ran away trying to make her way back to her grandmother in Victoria. Eventually picked up by the welfare she was charged with Exposed to Moral Danger and committed to Parramatta Girls Home by the time she was 15.

Married at 20, her life settled and she became a mother of two, however the legacy of her childhood remained unresolved and her marriage broke down in her mid thirties. A decade later she lost two sisters, one of whom was a single parent of three. Taking the children, Bonney once again became involved with the welfare system. Facing an uncertain future Bonney was determined to make changes and it was from this that her engagement with other Forgotten Australians began.

Bonney’s reflections on the federal apology to the Forgotten Australians and Lost Innocents

What does it mean to be a Forgotten Australian?

Firstly, it gives me a sense of belonging – this may seem rather strange – but for me like so many others we’ve had to grapple with a sense of being invisible and also a sense of powerlessness. In practical terms this affects all aspects of our lives and presents difficulties in expressing our needs to authority figures such as doctors, Centrelink, legal people, police etc.. for instance when my sister died back in 2000 I took care of her 3 young children, twins aged 9 and elder boy 10 years. This brought me in contact with the “WELFARE” department for the first time since 1970 when I left Parramatta Girls Home where I had been thoroughly convinced that I was worthless – and worse that I had a criminal record which of course I didn’t.

As I had always worked I had no experience in dealing with Centrelink and after 18 months of supporting the children I was informed by a Children’s Court solicitor that from the outset I was entitled to a foster carer’s allowance.

Irrational as it seems,  I also feared that the welfare would take the kids if they knew who I really was and as a result I was reluctant to ask DoCs for the help and support needed. This fear is shared by many Forgotten Australians who learnt at a young age that there were always consequences if you dared to ask. Rather like Oliver Twist’s request for more porridge!

With my new circumstances came a resolve that I would do everything I could to break the cycle that had been my experience, my mother’s and those of my sister and her children. I began to examine my past, ask questions and confront my fears. My first point of call was Parramatta Girls Home – now the Norma Parker Detention centre for Women. Now many years later I no longer have a sense of fear and apprehension when visiting the site and through personal experience have learnt a way to dispel the ghosts of the past.

Throughout the years I’ve engaged with the issues facing many Forgotten Australians and in 2006 formalised my activities in forming Parragirls.

What does the apology mean to me?

Really there’s no easy answer but I can say that for some it has brought a sense of closure and increased awareness of a ‘hidden’ history in Australia. It’s one step in what I feel will be a long journey to an unknown destination. On a personal level I was touched by Kevin Rudd’s acknowledgment  that many Forgotten Australians did not survive to see this day – those who had died ‘forgotten’ or by their own hand like my sister.

The apology brought together so many people in one place, yet each of us was in that very ‘alone’ place – the place of a child’s nightmare with our memories and those of all who we remember. I recall Kevin Rudd saying “today you are no longer the forgotten Australians but rather the remembered Australians”,  and perhaps just for that moment we were.

But what of the future?

However well intentioned or well received the apology may be it does not equate to forgiveness – that is a side of the equation which each of us must find alone.

I’ve learnt that I have to be the change I want and will continue to lobby for the preservation and dedication of Parramatta Girls Home and the adjacent Female Factory as a Living Memorial to the Forgotten Australians and others who have been marginalised by society.

Bonney Djuric
November 2009