WOMAN in LABOUR: WELFARE FOR THE COMMON YOUTH

IT'S 2015 and the Conservatives in the Commonwealth of Australia Parliament have been blunt with their knives as they hack away at the social fabric in Australia.

Every strata of society (except the well-off and comfortable and Super-Rich),

are being attacked by the Tory Abbott bovver boys on the Canberra hill.

Nothing has changed since I was down and out in Melbourne suburbia 1979.

The Liberal Party was in Power. Tight-arses with the undeserving poor, yet the Prime Minister Malcolm Frazer was a multi-cultural, anti-apatheid proponent.

I wonder if Hon. Malcolm Frazer got this quote when meeting with the "terrorist" Nelson Mandela in South Africa after his prison term - and shared it with his Treasurer John Howard!

Sweet 16 in 1979

I enjoyed school so much I had to leave home to complete it. Asian and Australian Studies, Legal Studies, Behavioural Psychology, Social Studies, History and English and Drama but my parents didn't think schooling was worthy of my attention or my forthcoming occupation, following my mother into the factories.During the school holidays I would last about 2 weeks in a job where mum worked in massive iron sheeted sheds where other migrant workers sweated with the summer heat and menopause.

My step-father was sponsored by the Australian company to share his skills in the cold-head screw manufacture, with free rent for 6months to aid ease of settlement.

Mum got a job in a factory quickly because she had years of experience labouring. They were the best wages they had ever had in England. Most parents would invest in a dream home, encourage their children's schooling and higher education.

I was to be schooled to be like them - their mirror image!

Home was a VB alcohol fueled roller-coaster and I wanted to STUDY not work in a factory at monotonous meaningless labour. One friend offered a room at his house.

The art of poetry spilled out of me, after a weekend camp at Wilson's Prom; The Waves revealed a life-enhancing therapy. Poetry was my salvation angel - a tool to emotional sanity and and intuitive wisdom.

Not long after my 17th birthday my friend's mum said she wasn't coping with somebody else in the house. She was fragile. I empathised.

Walking towards Oakleigh Railway Station I saw a sign saying Hon. Race Mathews was the State Member of Parliament. I'd been at the Student Union board looking for a room to rent at Caulfield Tech where there was a movie night - all night.

Hopeless and Fearing homelessness it occurred a politician should care about my education and security.

I wasn't old enough to vote, but I would be next year - he was my last hope to help me staying at school to complete High School Certificate and know where I could find a place to live.

MY ROOM AT THE TOP

I was right. The Labor MP got on the phone and dialled the local youth service. They found me a room in the home of a married couple, a teacher and social worker.

I was relieved to have a very nice roof over my head in a lovely leafy suburb. I could walk to the bus-stop in Ormond village and participate in the SRC as Student Representative for the school.

Disco was in, so I organised a live band to come to school to introduce the students to an alternative - live Australian music I had checked out in the Melbourne pubs...

LA FEMME - LINK TO

My new Landlady was entitled to a Government allowance of $15.00 a month to help pay for my meals, but she gave it to me for my bus to school and job search - I'd been sacked when I turned 17.

Venture couldn't afford me I was told, as I would be entitled to a wage rise. Unlike the previous Manager who had died of Cancer, this one didn't like the look of me from the day he arrived.

The Federal Treasurer Howard and cohorts wouldn't have given anybody like me a budget glance either.

I phoned my Dad in England who said he was having a rough patch and couldn't spare me any money. He said he didn't believe in hand-outs - made people lazy. Doing it for myself would be character building!

(This correlated with the ideology and attitude of Margaret Thatcher who he had voted for).

I found a job on Friday and Saturday night hawking leaflets for the Pancake Parlour in the city. We were in competition with the Pancake House adjacent but also some court case, something about Scientologists and we had to write any bad experiences we had with their hawkers on a note pad!
After a couple of weeks they didn't need me anymore...then I answered the door to my mother and step-father.
Come home they said, we've changed. Don't drink as much. Your dad was coming over to visit from England so it would be better if I was living back home, not all the way in Ormond.

I gave them the benefit of the doubt, so I moved back home.

It lasted 2 weeks after Dad went back to Birmingham, saying he couldn't offer us kids much of a life so just hang in there.

I was looking for lodgings again. Another teenager had my old room, but as Helen was working for Citizens Advice she found me a bungalow to rent for $20.00 a week in Hampton - a 15 minute walk to Moorabbin train station and the Commonwealth Employment Service(CES).

This meant I would have $16.00 left for food and bus fares.

Smith St. Hampton

MY ROOM OUT THE BACK.

It hasn't changed in 30 years! Though now the whole place is rented out for $300.00 per week.

1980 Disapointing results. IT WAS THE SUMMER OF MY DISCONTENT - Reflecting on a WHOLE YEAR...a poverty of loneliness, homelessness, joblessness.

I submitted a poem and prose, and they were published, but people were too busy to notice me hanging around, and when I asked if there was anything I could do there was really nothing, so I left.

On my 18th birthday I splashed out my food money on a bottle of Port. Cried and crashed. Another day and I was insignificant and insomniac - the Summer of listening to cricket over the back fence. Boring. Loneliest ever.

The CES said there was a job at Highett - full-time factory work - at least I'd have 4-6weeks wages. They gave me my train fare because I didn't have any money left until 4 days when my cheque arrived.

It was a large warehouse made of corrugated iron, and full of large cardboard boxes. They were moving to another factory. We were given sign-on cards and how to clock on and off. The job was packing coat-hangars in cardboard boxes - 8 hours a day. I persevered until 2 weeks later we had accomplished our task and signed off.

My letter would have gone something like this:

I began to listen to the political rhetoric in the media. Another Left politician and Leader of the Federal Labor Opposition, Bill Hayden was creating policies to pursue the public good:

http://electionspeeches.moadoph.gov.au/speeches/1980-bill-hayden

Dear Mr. Matheson,

I am applying for the job of sales assistant at the Duty Free Stores in Melbourne. Whilst I was studying Year 11 and High School Certificate I
was employed in the Women's Fashion and Toys department at Venture in Clayton.

I have also worked for the Pancake Parlour and factory work as diverse as packing coat hangars, and shoe laces to attaching wires to electric blanket sockets during school holidays.

I now require full-time work, something which can appreciate the talents I have and work to my potential. Having this job would enable me to move closer to work.

I got the phone-call from Mr. Don Matheson who spoke in a friendly Scots accent. My interview was in another 19th century building,(I'd previously been to an interview by three old men in a dark wooden and leather seated room for Sales at the Melbourne Age).

Finding something to wear was a problem as the Chinese cheap clothes hadn't saturated the market then, so I had to find something smart-like at St. Vincent de Paul Opportunity Shop. It wasn't ideal but I had nothing else. I didn't even think or dare to ask anybody for a loan to buy clothes and shoes.

We talked quite naturally - he was a person who wore a smile on his face. Plus he was interested to hear how I had only been in Australia for 2 years having emigrated with my family. He remarked about my unusual blazer ( it was a man's evening jacket if I recall right), but I thought was quite dapper with a modest punky look!

I was honest - hinted that I didn't live at home, and one big reason why I needed a wage. He said even though I didn't have the experience, my letter shone out including my handwriting! I said that was thanks to our Headmistress in England who taught us handwriting once a week - in fountain pens!

So I was sent on to the Manager of the Swanston Street store. He was sure we'd get on. The store was all shiny and mirrored. I knew I didn't fit in as I sat on the store and looked at the female assistants caked in make-up, quality wear and jewellery.

He knew too. I was odd. That night Don called and said he was sorry. OMG it was the end of the world. I was never going to to get on. He said to me something would turn up for an intelligent girl like me. The tears were going to pour out of me - I had to get off the phone, quickly.

Monday morning Don phoned and asked if I could work as a Girl Friday in Accounts Payable - a kind of general help, wherever I was needed. It was better, so much more suited for me. YES!

My unemployed Summer was over. I had a job. Just in time for preparing for the colder Melbourne weather catching the train and the bus, up early and home late. I'd have to move.