Forgotten Australians, memories

Just a day in Adelaide

by Sconey (guest author) on 20 January, 2010

It was one of those days when I didn’t want to talk to people. I just wanted to be left alone. It was a grey cold day in the city of churches. I walked down Hindley Street. The place has changed. It has been many years since I said I would never come here again. All my old squats are gone. New shops are everywhere; all the old hang outs are long gone, just their shells remain with different faces. But the memories are so strong. It feels like the street is still a part off my blood. The doorways I used to sleep in, the smells and aromas set off flashbacks and instincts in my brain. I felt like a homing pigeon coming home. I had a lot of good times living here as a kid and many bad times. I was a ward of the State, on the run most of the time and in those days I was not the only kid hanging out there. Many kids were there. All surviving in one street, living any way they could. We were there through family and systems abuse.

We all had our tricks to getting money to survive. Begging was one of them. A pie or pasty was under a dollar then. Some nights the street had kids on every corner begging for food, cigarettes, drugs or money. Many kids sold their souls there as well. The street was a meat market for the predators and pimps.

The things we did to survive! We were so young. We did not know how we were being abused by those who so cunningly took advantage of our situation. We could not even fathom how it would leave scars so deep in us; that the nightmares and memories would last a life time. This street had all of the seven deadly sins in it. It took many lives in many ways.

Strolling past the big M on corner of Hindley and Bank Streets, I turned towards the railway station and an old friend walked past. This blew me away. He was still walking the street after thirty plus years and going through bins. He was hanging out in town many years before my time in the street. This just saddened me even more. I walked up to him and called his name. I was one of only a few that this person ever spoke to. No one ever knew his name except me. He turned and looked shocked that someone recognized him. He realized who I was after a good long stare at me. The feelings were racing through my mind. I quickly opened my wallet and said to him, ‘My friend, the system is still failing you. You can have what ever is in my wallet’. I had two fifty dollar notes. He took both of them. Immediately after that my eyes hit the ground. I was in tears and I couldn’t even look him in the face as I did not want him to see my tears running down my face. I mumbled, ‘Take care of yourself, my friend’, and turned towards the railway station.

The day rapidly went from grey to very dark after that. I walked over the River Torrens bridge on King William Road and looked at the toilet block in Jolley’s Lane. Many kids hung around there in the old days, trying find places to sleep late at night. This was a dangerous place to sleep. You were often woken by men playing with themselves, enticing you with money to come with them to their houses and with cold frozen backs most of us went with them.

Well, with all those old memories I really needed something I gave away a long time ago – alcohol. So I quickly found the nearest pub with an auto teller machine and started drinking heavily. I found the need to gamble and sat at a poker machine and a started playing. However, losing was more like it.

Sitting besides me were three old fellows yakking away. I have big ears and don’t mind old fellow stories, so I listened to what they were saying. The subject was the Mullighan Inquiry and the wards of the State. They were also talking about things that happened to them in the past. Their stories were not too bad. They had homes and families in their day, whereas we did not. Some of their comments were along the lines of, ‘They expect us tax payers to pay for those rotten criminal kids; I would have snotted my kids if they were like that; They’re still alive today so they must have been treated all right; The joke of it!’ This subject went for another ten minutes with them knocking us wards. The last comment was, ‘I reckon they are all liars!’

After this I was boiling. I had to say something to these silly old fools and I had to keep my cool in my intoxicated state. Still I stood up proudly and said, ‘I am one of the Forgotten Australians you are talking about. You think because of what happened to you, we do not deserve retribution or compensation some how. Well let me tell you something fellows? Your generation denied what was happening to us; you closed your eyes and let it happen and you say you are not to blame as well. You are idiots and you should be ashamed. Until you have walked in our shoes and walked down our paths, you know little about us and our lives. You are here in the pub spending your government pension, with obviously not a worry in the world, knocking the disadvantaged and underprivileged’, I went on to tell them, ‘It was in papers many times back then and in your face, when you could have done something about it. But what did most of the public do? They closed their eyes and looked the other way or abused us. Yes old fellows, you are to blame too, along with the Government’.

That shut them up.

Forgotten Australians, poetry

Bidura memory – she was only 6

by Debbie Day (guest author) on 20 January, 2010

Shush close your eyes look sound asleep,
Hear him moving in the shadows so deep,
Yes he passed by not my turn tonight
But who will he pick?
Will she put up a fight?
She was only 6

We hope he will leave and choose none tonight
We know what he will do to the one he picks
Yes we know the pain he will put on her
We know it all
She was only 6

It morning get up and make the bed
Bed number 4 is missing a girl
It was her first time, in sick bay she will stay,
We know why, we know who
We keep silent speaking won’t help
She was only 6

We wait for her to come back to us
So we can hug her and hold her close
Tell her we know, tell her we care
She never came back she left we are told
To a family who wants her, its lies so bold
It’s just not fair.
She was only 6.

Now I wish he had picked me
I know what to do
I wouldn’t fight or cry the night through
If I had be chosen me she would still be here
I wish he picked me
Cause I am older
I am 7

articles/lectures, Forgotten Australians

Forgiven and Forgotten? A public lecture

by Dr Sharon Bessell (guest author) on 20 January, 2010

Dr Sharon Bessell, Senior Lecturer in Public Policy at ANU’s Crawford School of Economics and Government, College of Asia and the Pacific

Presented at The Australian National University on 9 December 2009.

I would like to begin with a quote from Nelson Mandela. He has said:

There can be no keener revelation of a society’s soul than the way in which it treats its children.

I would add, that revelation is particularly acute and accurate when the children involved are those without parents or family to care for them. The way in which a society allows children in the care of the state to be treated is indeed a revelation of its soul.

In reflecting on the experiences of the Forgotten Australians, two questions are important to ask ourselves today:

First, what allowed these terrible abuses to occur?

Second, what is the situation of children who are in the care of the state today?

First, what allowed these terrible abuses to occur? The terrible experiences of those who we have come to know as the Forgotten Australians were first and foremost gross violations of human rights. They occurred at a time when children were not considered to be bearers of human rights. Children’s generally were considered chattels of their parents. Those children who were placed in institutions were often considered not as people – as human beings with human rights – but as social problems to be dealt with.

Over the past two decades the concept of children’s human rights has gained ground. This year we celebrate the 20th anniversary of the adoption by the UN General Assembly of the Convention on the Rights of the Child. What do children’s rights mean? The Convention – which provides the foundation for children’s rights, and which Australia ratified in 1990 – obliges governments to take proactive measures to uphold children’s rights. Children have the right – and governments have an obligation to uphold the right – to protection against all forms of abuse and neglect; to full development (including health care, education and schooling, shelter and leisure); and children have the right to have their say on matters affecting them. Under the Convention, governments are obliged to take serious account of a child’s best interests and to act in a way that does not discriminate against individual children. From a rights perspective, the treatment of the Forgotten Australians was – as I have said – gross violations of human rights.

Today, governments are taking the human rights of children more seriously. All jurisdictions in Australia, excepting the Northern Territory, have now adopted Charters of Rights for Children in Out of Home Care, and all have a Children’s Commissioner. The language and principles of children’s rights are influential in a range of policies, including the new National Child Protection Framework.

So we now have policies and frameworks to protect children – and to protect their human rights – that did not exist even a decade ago. We have non-government organisations and statutory bodies with a mandate to watch over children’s rights. The absence of a concept of children’s rights is one part of a very complex – and very disturbing – explanation of how terrible abuses were able to occur in the past. Children were placed in the care of institutions that were accountable to no-one and society was unconcerned so long as a potential social problem was dealt with.

So, to the second question, what is the situation of children in the care of the state today? First, as I’ve said, we’ve made considerable progress in putting in place a framework for human rights – it is not perfect, but it is progress. But there is a significant gap between rhetoric and reality.

Today, there are about 30,000 children in the care of the state across Australia. We have moved away from large-scale institutuionalisation and today over 90% of children in the care of the state are in home-based care. So how are we doing in terms of protecting their human rights? Well, in practice, not terribly well. It is well documented that children in care commonly experience placement instability. Placement instability – a nice, value neutral term. What this means, is that children are moved regularly from one living arrangement to another, one foster family to another, one group of strangers to another. Sometimes several times in a year, every year. A major problem here is that there simply are not enough carers to look after children – but there are other problems too. In the research I have done with children who have experienced out of home care, a common story is inadequate access to medical care, to dental care, and to adequate clothing and footwear. Often because of overly complicated and slow bureaucratic processes. One boy told me that the best thing about his current care placement was that his foster carer had been able to secure dental care for him – before that he has experienced over 12 months of pain, caused by a severely decayed tooth, but had no access to a dentist. Many children feel that they are not listened to and not valued. When asked who she turned to for support, one young women replied ‘The rape crisis centre helps.’ I could go on for a very long time – and the story is not a very pretty one.

We have, importantly, had a focus in recent years on the situation for children in out of home care. CREATE Foundation has been very important in drawing public attention to the issues. Generally, however, the focus is on what happens to children when the leave care. The story here is alarming – and demands attention! State care is a pathway to homelessness for many young people, and almost one third of young people leaving state care then experience homelessness. Many have inadequate education and few life skills. Early pregnancy and drug and alcohol issues are above the norm. We need to focus on what happens to these children as they grow up and leave care.

But we also need to focus on the situation of children who are in care now. And this is where attention is still inadequate. Too often, the focus is still on social needs and children can be represented all too easily as social problems. Too often, the focus is on children as human becomings (who will one day grow up and be fully human) rather than as human beings now.

During the very welcome and long ovedue apology to the Forgotten Australians, the Prime Minister said

If you hurt a child, a harmed adult will often result. Aggregate those adults who are harmed in care and the social, the economic and the personal cost is huge.

This is of course true. But it is also true that there is harm to a child – not only a future adult – and the cost to that child is great. From a human rights perspective, we must recognise, value and protect the human rights of children as human beings today – not only as future adults.

So, today we have a human rights framework, with potential to protect and support children in the care of the state. But we have much to do in practice.

In closing, I want to just reflect on the term the Forgotten Australians. I wonder if people, like Wilma and so many others, were actually forgotten. Perhaps they were ignored. I was talking with a colleague in the lead up to this evening and she said that she recalled as a child, her friends parents threatening that they would be sent to ‘reform school’ if they were naughty. Society knew institutions for children existed, and society knew they were not nice places. If society forgot, it was because society chose to forget. Today, we know about that life is often very unhappy for children in care, we know that their needs are often unfulfilled and their rights violated. If we forget them – and those who care for them – it is because we choose to forget. As a society, we cannot, I think, be forgiven for forgetting twice!

Forgotten Australians, memories

Cold grey orphanage in Goulburn

by Fran Yule (guest author) on 20 January, 2010

In 1947, Fran, aged three and her sister, aged five, were taken to St Joseph’s Orphanage, Goulburn.

It was a cold grey building run by cold grey nuns who mercilessly controlled the children in their care. When a child cried, or laughed out of turn, or stumbled over their prayers, or wet their bed, they were punished. Children in the orphanage were not allowed to be children. There was no compassion, no love, no nurturing. The rage I feel when I recall my time there is also cold and grey. How could human beings treat innocent children as if they were criminals? These women were “brides of Christ” dedicated to serving Him through good charitable works?!! I remember one particular nun, Sister M, who looked after the under-5 children. She was cruel. There will never be another way of describing her. It was as if she hated children. She hated their neediness. I hope she went to hell. I hope Christ turned His face from her.

Forgotten Australians

Open letter to Prime Minister Kevin Rudd

by Darlene McKay (guest author) on 21 December, 2009

Darlene McKay spent her childhood in many homes, including Allambie Reception Centre in Burwood, Victoria. Here she shares a letter she wrote to Prime Minister Kevin Rudd.

Darlene McKay with the letter she wrote to Prime Minister Kevin Rudd
Darlene McKay, Suzanne Brown and James McKay at the National Apology

30th October 2009

Mr Rudd, PM

One Forgotten Child

Everyone of us has a story and we all have that one BIG question!!

What happened Mr Rudd, that the Government took our innocence, our security and our families? And why did the Nuns treat us that way Mr Rudd?

Didn’t they know we were scared!

Why did that Man at Allambie think that I would trade a bag of spearmint leaves for a feel of his penis?

Why DID the Government feel that they could trade my obedience for 2 cigarettes a day?

Mr Rudd why couldn’t I see my family, WHO made that decision?
Why Mr Rudd didn’t the Government protect me at 14 years old when a boy I lived with felt it wasn’t my right to be a virgin?

And Mr Rudd why couldn’t that Government nurture me into a whole person.

It’s those mistakes our Government made took me 50 years of confusion, insecurity, shame and humiliation, but I’ve learnt those lessons Mr Rudd that has me here today still asking those questions.

Do you think SORRY covers it? It doesn’t cover it for my sister or my brother either!

We had to teach ourselves how to love and be loved, to be a good parent to undo those mistakes the Government made, and to also forgive.

Mr Rudd Do you have any answers?

Thank You Mr Rudd for listening to one forgotten child. Thank you for the invitation I’ll see you on the 16th November at Parliament House.

Yours Sincerely
Darlene McKay nee Warren

art, Forgotten Australians, music

Will Carroll’s song

by Will Carroll (guest author) on 21 December, 2009

Will Carroll is a folk singer–song writer from Texas who wrote and recorded the following song, ‘Magpies’, to honour Forgotten Australians.

Magpies

Lyrics for ‘Magpies’

Out of sight out of mind,
forget about them, we don’t want you here…
We are one… but we are many…
and from all the states in Oz we come…
I am, I am. You are the magpies that fly above it all…
Fly to show us all you fly on, you fly on…

Bad motivation to solve the situation,
it was manipulation to hide you away…
To send you down under to save us the shame,
of our failures, just shift the blame.
I am, I am. You are the magpies that fly above it all…
Fly to show us all you fly on, you fly on…

And now to say you’re sorry, only says you waited too long,
hoping no one would remember.
But from all the states in Oz we come,
we share a dream, and sing with one voice…
I am, I am. You are the magpies that fly above it all…
Fly to show us all you fly on,you fly on…
Fly to show us all you fly on, you fly on…
Fly to show us all you fly on, you fly on…

art, Forgotten Australians, poetry

A neglected child

by Bob McGuire (guest author) on 21 December, 2009

At age ten Bob was taken from his mother as a neglected child and placed in Parkerville Children’s Home. Below is his poem.

‘Wearne Centre’ at Parkerville Children’s Home
Dining room at Parkerville Children’s Home

to be taken as a neglected child
to be told you were going to be put some where safe
to always remember the evil man with the cane and all ways wild
this is the darkness in my dreams, the horror in my life
this place was not safe but a place of horror for this waif

art, Forgotten Australians, Stolen Generations, theatre

The Fence – a portrait of love, belonging and dispossession

by Adele on 15 December, 2009

Coming up in January in Sydney – live theatre performance of The Fence, a story close to the hearts of Forgotten Australians and Stolen Generations. Here’s the announcement from Urban Theatre Projects:

Urban Theatre Projects and Sydney Festival 2010 present

THE FENCE

A portrait of love, belonging and dispossession.

The story takes place in the family home of Mel and Joy in Sydney’s western suburbs. It investigates the resilience and wisdom of five middle-aged Australians, four of whom grew up in care as part of the Forgotten Australians and Stolen Generations.

The audience will be seated in the backyard of a purpose-built house on-site in Parramatta, The Fence is the latest site-specific work from Urban Theatre Projects created in public dialogue with communities.

In developing The Fence, Urban Theatre Projects Artistic Director Alicia Talbot and cast spent have been working with 25 Indigenous and non-Indigenous Australian men and women who, like the characters, have had experiences of growing up in orphanages, foster homes and welfare institutions. Alicia acknowledges the community consultants as experts and together they have engaged in open dialogue that has informed the development of The Fence.

Community partners include Alliance Forgotten Australians, Stolen Generations Alliance, Origins HARP, Mens Shed – Emerton, Parra Girls, CLAN & Link-Up.

The Fence season runs from 14 to 30 January 2010 at 8.30pm as part of the Sydney Festival.

For more information, see the Urban Theatre Projects page about The Fence.

art, Forgotten Australians, poetry

Born

by Nicole Troccoli-Dennis (guest author) on 14 December, 2009

Nicole Troccoli-Dennis wrote the following poem in 1988, at Winlaton Detention Centre, Victoria.

Born

The petals of my roses are merely wiltering away,

Dreams forever becoming destroyed right here in my face.

Freedom flew away without a thought for me,

My confidence now my enemy.

Love is too much of a burden,

Happiness merely a verb.

Psychotic thoughts come as freely as taking a breath “Aaahhh!!!”

I thought it was all around me,

Surprise, Surprise, I found it.

Way down inside of me,

Within the deepest realms of my soul.

Yep! Rage, Hatred, Mania and compulsive anxiety,

Let me out of this cold wet cage-like existence.

Disease and scars my proof,

Rejected from day one.

Some call this survival,

I say it’s a battle never won.

Agony, fright and all things nice,

That’s what I ended up made of.

Nicole Troccoli-Dennis at the National Apology to Forgotten Australians
Nicole Troccoli-Dennis at the National Apology to Forgotten Australians
Nicole Troccoli-Dennis at the National Apology to Forgotten Australians
art, Forgotten Australians, painting

Wilma’s painting

by Wilma Robb (guest author) on 9 December, 2009

Wilma Robb was incarcerated in Parramatta Girls Home and Hay Institution for Girls. One way she tells her story is through painting.

Wilma with her painting
Black, Blue and Raw

Black, Blue and Raw
Wilma Robb (Cassidy) 2005
This hung in an exhibition “Forgotten Australians” at NSW Parliament house from 11 April-28 April 2005. Supported and Arranged by Forgotten Australians Jools Graeme, Melody Mandena, John Murray

Black, Blue and Raw depicts my time in Parramatta and Hay.

At Hay, I experienced a sadistic, martial discipline the (Silent Treatment outlawed in the late 1800s) designed to break the human spirit. These days we would describe it as a form of ‘programming’. At Parramatta, I experienced psychological abuse, rape, neglect and other forms of violent torture at the hands of state employees.

My torso
No-one sees what is hidden inside me. Here are the memories I have tried to suppress. Here is the sub-conscious record of life-destroying events, festering.
The little girl at the centre is me. The eyes overseeing the evil are those of one of my abusers, captured by camera from a television screen.

My baby
When I was 18, my baby was taken from me by Welfare, within minutes of his birth.

The colours
To me, yellow and purple signalled hope. At Hay, we experienced regular solitary confinement, enforced silence and regimentation. Also, they took our eyes.

The mask
At Hay, they tried to turn us into unthinking robots by brainwashing and deprivation. The Hay mask has a robotic expression and a head that has been messed with severely. My memory of Parramatta is dominated by the violence of the staff – I lost my teeth and had my face smashed. The mask has had its features flattened and is flesh softened by fists.