Ever since I first left Darwin to seek my fortune and/or education at the University of Queensland, I’ve been simultaneously blessed and cursed with a life of eternal wandering. I never seem to be able to stay in one place for more than about eighteen months before I get up and shift everything, either through my own restlessness or through circumstances beyond my control. Even in the four years since I moved back to Darwin I’ve moved house three times.
Make that four.
I thought I had finally broken the curse after managing to live in Malak for two whole years before moving to a unit in town to be closer to work (hmmph) and church, but I’d been there less than a year when my housemates announced they were taking off for Wollongong, leaving me to either take on the lease myself or find somewhere else. So the long and the short of it is, after a mad scramble, I’m now writing to you from the sunny shores of Nightcliff, where I now live with a couple of friends from Happy Yess.
The curse lives on, but we’ll see how long I can stay in one place this time.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
28 November 2013
20 November 2013
The Big Smoke
And now for a little flagrant cross promotion:
Australia has a new opinion website up and running. And as one of Australia’s most opinionated people, it comes as no surprise that I’ve got an article on it.
Check it out, and check out the rest of the site while you’re there. It’s a pretty good effort.
Garry with 2 Rs
Garry with 2 Rs
10 November 2013
Human Services - Part Four
Monday 21 October
My promised confirmation letter never came. I fronted up to the Centrelink office again to make some noise about it. They took my Centrelink number and made sure all my details were up-to-date. They were.
I was assured that my claim was being processed and told to wait a few more days.
Thursday 24 October
My promised payment never came. I fronted up to the Centrelink Office to bang some heads together. They took my Centrelink number and made sure all my details were up-to-date. They were.
Once again, I received that pained, slightly lost expression from a Centrelink employee faced with everything she had asked for. She agreed it was strange that I hadn’t been paid and called up someone at DHS in Canberra to ask “what the hell?” I secretly imagined the Canberra people asking my Centrelink lady for her ID number and date of birth.
After squinting, nodding and saying “mm-hmm” for a few minutes, she hung up and informed me that my payments had been approved a week ago, but that they required a final sign-off from the team leader in the Darwin office, who hadn’t got around to it yet.
“I guarantee you that she will call you by tomorrow afternoon to sort it all out,” she promised me. I thanked her for her time and left.
Monday 28 October
My promised phone call never came. I fronted up to the Centrelink office again to burn the building down and scatter the ashes as a warning to others. They took my Centrelink number and made sure all my details were up-to-date. They were.
Today’s service provider informed me that my payment had been approved, but that I had to make a report of my employment details for the past two weeks in order to unlock it.
“I’ve been unemployed for almost four months,” I answered. Again.
“Okay,” he answered, “and in that time have you done any paid work?” I stared incredulously at the man for a few moments to figure out if he was kidding or not. He wasn’t.
“No,” I answered very slowly and carefully, “I haven’t done any paid work during my time of unemployment.”
“Okay,” said the man as he ticked a check box on his clipboard and entered my answer onto my Centrelink records. “Your pay will be processed overnight and will be in your account tomorrow.”
The Story Doesn’t End
Looking around at the faces of the other people waiting for attention from the Department of Human Services, I am acutely aware of how fortunate I am. Sure, I’m unemployed and banging my head against a wall, but I have the necessary education and cultural confidence to stand up for myself against what would otherwise be a bewildering and utterly devastating wall of needless bureaucracy and staggeringly ineffective communication. I have emergency funds on hand to keep myself from starving or losing the roof over my head. I have a blog on which to vent my frustrations and the knowledge that even when things go completely and utterly pear-shaped, I’ll probably be okay.
But what of the other dozen or so people waiting for service alongside me at any given hour of any given day who don’t share my privileged background? Those who don’t speak fluent English, or don’t understand why people will ask so many personal questions before agreeing to help you, or haven’t been educated to understand the processes the office is going through. Hell, I have an honours degree and some it still left me mystified.
My point isn’t “Thank God I’m not like that tax collector over there,” but more to wonder how many people in much worse circumstances than me never manage to get the help they need because they don’t have what it takes to be more belligerent than the computer system. My unemployment support eventually did come through. But I’ve worked for an Indigenous credit union. I know how many cases come through every week from people expecting financial support that never comes. I’m sure there are a booklets and booklets of reasons why we can’t have a slightly more efficient welfare system. I just can’t think of a single one right now.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
My promised confirmation letter never came. I fronted up to the Centrelink office again to make some noise about it. They took my Centrelink number and made sure all my details were up-to-date. They were.
I was assured that my claim was being processed and told to wait a few more days.
Thursday 24 October
My promised payment never came. I fronted up to the Centrelink Office to bang some heads together. They took my Centrelink number and made sure all my details were up-to-date. They were.
Once again, I received that pained, slightly lost expression from a Centrelink employee faced with everything she had asked for. She agreed it was strange that I hadn’t been paid and called up someone at DHS in Canberra to ask “what the hell?” I secretly imagined the Canberra people asking my Centrelink lady for her ID number and date of birth.
After squinting, nodding and saying “mm-hmm” for a few minutes, she hung up and informed me that my payments had been approved a week ago, but that they required a final sign-off from the team leader in the Darwin office, who hadn’t got around to it yet.
“I guarantee you that she will call you by tomorrow afternoon to sort it all out,” she promised me. I thanked her for her time and left.
Monday 28 October
My promised phone call never came. I fronted up to the Centrelink office again to burn the building down and scatter the ashes as a warning to others. They took my Centrelink number and made sure all my details were up-to-date. They were.
Today’s service provider informed me that my payment had been approved, but that I had to make a report of my employment details for the past two weeks in order to unlock it.
“I’ve been unemployed for almost four months,” I answered. Again.
“Okay,” he answered, “and in that time have you done any paid work?” I stared incredulously at the man for a few moments to figure out if he was kidding or not. He wasn’t.
“No,” I answered very slowly and carefully, “I haven’t done any paid work during my time of unemployment.”
“Okay,” said the man as he ticked a check box on his clipboard and entered my answer onto my Centrelink records. “Your pay will be processed overnight and will be in your account tomorrow.”
The Story Doesn’t End
Looking around at the faces of the other people waiting for attention from the Department of Human Services, I am acutely aware of how fortunate I am. Sure, I’m unemployed and banging my head against a wall, but I have the necessary education and cultural confidence to stand up for myself against what would otherwise be a bewildering and utterly devastating wall of needless bureaucracy and staggeringly ineffective communication. I have emergency funds on hand to keep myself from starving or losing the roof over my head. I have a blog on which to vent my frustrations and the knowledge that even when things go completely and utterly pear-shaped, I’ll probably be okay.
But what of the other dozen or so people waiting for service alongside me at any given hour of any given day who don’t share my privileged background? Those who don’t speak fluent English, or don’t understand why people will ask so many personal questions before agreeing to help you, or haven’t been educated to understand the processes the office is going through. Hell, I have an honours degree and some it still left me mystified.
My point isn’t “Thank God I’m not like that tax collector over there,” but more to wonder how many people in much worse circumstances than me never manage to get the help they need because they don’t have what it takes to be more belligerent than the computer system. My unemployment support eventually did come through. But I’ve worked for an Indigenous credit union. I know how many cases come through every week from people expecting financial support that never comes. I’m sure there are a booklets and booklets of reasons why we can’t have a slightly more efficient welfare system. I just can’t think of a single one right now.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
05 November 2013
On Detention
When you’re unemployed you suddenly find yourself with enough time to do some of the stuff you’d always thought you’d do if you had enough time (obviously keeping my blog up-to-date is not included in this paradigm). So last week and for no-apparent reason I decided I’d go down to the weekly meeting outside the immigrant detention centre at the airport and check out what’s going on there.
For context, I will at the outset acknowledge that I have written before about supporting the off-shore processing scheme, and that I am generally in favour of keeping tabs on people who have arrived in some way other than by official channels.
I also know what it’s like to be locked upon attempting to enter a supposedly civilised country, albeit only a few hours, not months or years like the detainees experience here.
It was a very strange experience for me. A few locals go down to the centre quite regularly, and a number of detainees come down to the fences with their children to meet and talk about what’s going on. It’s great to put a human face on the issue and to hear what the detainees have to say. It’s clear they are desperate to get out and under a lot of stress from the uncertainty of their situation. And in a number of cases their detention is probably unnecessary, but it’s just so difficult to know the whole story.
One of the most frustrating things about being intelligent is the tension that constantly comes from holding two competing and even mutually exclusive ideas in your head at the same time. I would have to say I’m still in favour of mandatory detention while refugee claims are verified, but I’m sure there has to be a better way to accommodate families than the facilities being operated at the moment. I would encourage anyone who is interested in the issue, whatever your opinion on the matter, to get down to a centre and see the situation for yourself.
Except that now that opportunity is probably gone. The last time I was there, a news team from the ABC came with a camera and documented the stories from a number of detainees. And just like that, the visits at the fence stopped. There are still locals outside wanting to meet detainees, but none are coming to the fence.
Why not?
The Darwin Asylum Seeker Support and Advocacy Network (DASSAN) reports it has received communication from inside the detention centre that Serco (the company that runs the centres) employees have told detainees that they aren’t to talk to people at the fence, and that if they go down and talk, it could endanger their application status.
If it’s true, this is appalling.
Serco have repeatedly insisted that the facilities they run are not prisons. They’re facilities that people are locked up in and which they are not permitted to leave, but they’re not prisons. Also the detainees are not criminals. To tell the detainees that they can’t interact with the people outside, and to use people's asylum applications as blackmail, is either a blatant admission that Serco’s attitude doesn’t match its public rhetoric, or it’s just a massive and flagrant case of bullying the defenseless. Either way, it’s not acceptable.
I’m still in favour of keeping tabs on new arrivals while their identity and background are confirmed. But there’s got to be a better way to do it. And there’s got to be a better company to do it through.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
For context, I will at the outset acknowledge that I have written before about supporting the off-shore processing scheme, and that I am generally in favour of keeping tabs on people who have arrived in some way other than by official channels.
I also know what it’s like to be locked upon attempting to enter a supposedly civilised country, albeit only a few hours, not months or years like the detainees experience here.
It was a very strange experience for me. A few locals go down to the centre quite regularly, and a number of detainees come down to the fences with their children to meet and talk about what’s going on. It’s great to put a human face on the issue and to hear what the detainees have to say. It’s clear they are desperate to get out and under a lot of stress from the uncertainty of their situation. And in a number of cases their detention is probably unnecessary, but it’s just so difficult to know the whole story.
One of the most frustrating things about being intelligent is the tension that constantly comes from holding two competing and even mutually exclusive ideas in your head at the same time. I would have to say I’m still in favour of mandatory detention while refugee claims are verified, but I’m sure there has to be a better way to accommodate families than the facilities being operated at the moment. I would encourage anyone who is interested in the issue, whatever your opinion on the matter, to get down to a centre and see the situation for yourself.
Except that now that opportunity is probably gone. The last time I was there, a news team from the ABC came with a camera and documented the stories from a number of detainees. And just like that, the visits at the fence stopped. There are still locals outside wanting to meet detainees, but none are coming to the fence.
Why not?
The Darwin Asylum Seeker Support and Advocacy Network (DASSAN) reports it has received communication from inside the detention centre that Serco (the company that runs the centres) employees have told detainees that they aren’t to talk to people at the fence, and that if they go down and talk, it could endanger their application status.
If it’s true, this is appalling.
Serco have repeatedly insisted that the facilities they run are not prisons. They’re facilities that people are locked up in and which they are not permitted to leave, but they’re not prisons. Also the detainees are not criminals. To tell the detainees that they can’t interact with the people outside, and to use people's asylum applications as blackmail, is either a blatant admission that Serco’s attitude doesn’t match its public rhetoric, or it’s just a massive and flagrant case of bullying the defenseless. Either way, it’s not acceptable.
I’m still in favour of keeping tabs on new arrivals while their identity and background are confirmed. But there’s got to be a better way to do it. And there’s got to be a better company to do it through.
Make of that what you will.
Garry with 2 Rs
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)