My early years weren’t up to much with my parents falling to alcohol and drug addiction. They did their best I suppose. They didn’t have the best start in life themselves. All I know is that at age 6 my life turned upside down when I was taken into foster care.
Those years were rough with many changes in foster placements. Things got better though when I went to stay at an Agricultural college. That gave me stability and a qualification and eventually a job. The boss wasn’t much good though. He didn’t have the right safety processes in place and when I hurt my back, I could no longer work.
I stayed with friends for a while but when I could no longer afford the rent, there were no more options for me and I ended up on the streets.
I want to feel safe, to have a stable roof over my head, have purpose in my life once more, and feel connected to my community. I don’t want to feel invisible or like an outsider anymore.
Sam packs up his room. He can’t take too much as he has to fit it into his two bags and also, his back injury means he can’t carry too much weight. He fits as much of his life as he can into the bags, before walking out the door for good.
Standing on the pavement he feels like there is nowhere to turn. That feeling isn’t unfamiliar to Sam but it doesn’t get any less painful.
Sam starts thinking about where he is going to sleep tonight.
I start walking. It doesn’t really matter which direction, I have no place to be. Carrying these bags is so tiring, especially with my bad back.
I need a safe place to sleep for the night so I walk to a house that I know no one lives in. I jump the fence and go to the back porch. I don’t have a blanket or anything so I curl up on the floor and eventually drift off to sleep.
I wake to the sound of the police. Someone saw me jump the fence. They arrest me for ‘unlawfully being on the premises’. They are rough with me even though I tell them about my back. I cop a $500 fine that I know I wont be able to pay off. At least they linked me to a service who can put me up for couple of nights.
I am feeling pretty numb about the whole thing.
The next morning, whilst walking around the city, Sam is approached by Dan, an outreach worker from a homelessness support service.
Dan tells him about some crisis supports he could access. He also tells Sam about some accommodation options he can look into.
The last few days have really gotten to me but I know if my situation is going to improve, I need to get a safe roof over my head.
I go to a crisis accommodation place Dan told me about. After telling them my story, I get lucky and they tell me a bed will soon become available. They also link me to Alice, a caseworker who they say can talk to me about long-term housing options.
When Alice and I meet up I can see from her face that she doesn’t have good news. She says that although they have links to different housing options, there is limited availability at the moment. She says I can stay in the crisis accommodation for the next couple of days but that’s all they can offer me for now.
My worse fears are confirmed, I will be going back on the streets.
Over one third (38%) of family members accessed housing pathway or housing support services (multiple times).
On average, families accessed almost three services, with 29% accessing almost three emergency accommodation services
Not sleeping on the street for two nights has given Sam some needed headspace to make a plan. On Monday when services open back up, he is going to seek some support. He doesn’t want to spend any more time on the street.
He decides he needs two things to help get him back on his feet; register for job seeker payments and explore work opportunities.
He waits outside the library until it opens so he can use their free WiFi. After writing down all of the numbers and addresses he needs, he sets off…
By the time I arrive at Centrelink at 9am it is already busy. It’s so embarrassing to be carrying around my bags but where can I put them?
Standing near the entrance I am approached by a staff member who asks how she can help. I ask to speak with a social worker but am told none are available so instead, I take my number, sit down, and wait to be called up.
After waiting for an hour, I finally sit down with a staff member but after 10 minutes she tells me bluntly that she can’t offer me any financial help. Instead, she gives me a list of places I can go to get free food. As she walks away from me she checks her hair in the reflection of the window. She doesn’t care about me or my situation and has no idea what I am going through.
I leave feeling angry but mostly, just sad. What am I going to do now?
The system and services not designed from perspective of lived experience
Most families (82%) on Newstart (now Jobseeker) have at least one one chronic health condition and at least one mental health condition (76%)
Sam has been living on the streets for several weeks now. His phone was stolen over a week ago so no one can get hold of him, including the job network provider.
He is bored and the futility of his situation is starting to get to him.
Sam manages to use a computer at his local homeless drop-in centre only to get some more bad news through his email. He is in debt.
Where does honesty and being upfront get you? After I went to Centrelink last month to try and get some support, they now are telling me I owe them money. Apparently, their fancy computer system worked it out.
I’ve done that many casual jobs, they think based on my average income that I’ve been collecting income support at the same time as earning personal income. It’s a mistake! Despite my situation, I have always been honest. Being homeless doesn’t make me a bad person and giving me a debt now is like kicking me while I am down – it’s only going to push me lower.
I really need something to take my mind off of all this stress. I have met a few people on the streets with who I’ve become pals. I’ll see if they are around, maybe have a drink.
Families reported they experienced an inability to sleep (65%) and stress-related illness (60%) as a result of debt.
Homeless, jobless, carrying debt and without any formal support, Sam feels like his chances of getting off the streets get smaller each week.
He has made a small group of friends and although he knows he can’t fully trust them, they understand and look out for him.
That means a lot.
Sam still wants help but sometimes it feels like the system has been built to keep him down.
For the first couple of weeks, I didn’t speak to anyone else on the streets. It wasn’t until I met James that I started talking. James has a similar story to me.
He took me under his wing, introduced me to a few of his mates. He also looks out for me if things get a bit crazy. The streets can be a very violent place.
There are some drugs and drinking in the group, which can cause problems, but at least we can talk about our problems and make each other feel like we matter, like we exist. They know how the streets work and can be a good source of advice.
That sometimes is the only thing that gets me through.
Unstructured social engagement is valued more highly than structured interventions. Agencies could consider how to encourage and support these existing networks and preferences
Families repeatedly asked us before, during and after their engagement; ‘how will my information be used to make a difference? It is through this lens and in the context of your own influence and responsibility that these calls to action should be viewed.
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