The chasm between rich and poor - Homeless in the wealthy West | DW Documentary

This house, on the right hand side, is where our house was. This same tree, actually, the same tree, that has always been here. And that big gum tree behind it used to be full of fruit bats. They came and screamed all night and I was very happy. And life was pretty good. It was pretty good. It happens suddenly. Basically, my partner told me one day: we have no money left. And, um, it's too hard to even really understand. He kept telling me “don't worry about the money, don't worry about the money.” It's all under control. “Keep doing your thing.” But then, that day he said: it was Saturday and he said: we have no money left.

The movers came and basically took everything. Homelessness wasn't even on my radar. I had never, ever considered that I would be

homeless

. Never. For many years, owning a home was known as the Great Australian Dream. The belief was that home ownership would lead to a better life. A house represents more than just bricks and mortar. More than a roof over your head. It is a refuge. A safe place to live. Giving us security and a sense of belonging. Australia was considered the lucky country: a land of hope and opportunity. The myth was that if you worked hard enough, you could achieve anything.

The goal was, for many, to own a quarter-acre block in the suburbs with a clothesline in the back. There were housing developments everywhere. New suburbs were spreading and the real estate market was booming. We are selling! For a time, the future looked bright. Politics and economics change everything. As time has passed, the great Australian dream has been eroded little by little. And for many people, that dream has been shattered. I'm getting a little rant now, but it's absolutely crazy, vile and reprehensible how our society treats

homeless

people. There is something about the current neoliberal agenda of wanting everyone to think that people are homeless because it is their own fault.

Technically homeless just means I don't have a home. That can happen to anyone. Anyone could be homeless in two weeks. Everyone who looks down on homeless people thinks: these homeless people have done something wrong, or they deserve it, or they just need to work hard, or they should, shouldn't, be on drugs or whatever, not realizing that they could be the ones. next homeless person. I didn't think I could end up homeless and I did. I was homeless for over 10 years. I was fired from my job and my relationship fell apart the same day. And then two weeks later, because I couldn't pay the rent, I lost my house too.

So I went through the loss of a partner, the loss of a home, the loss of a job, which are 3 of the 5 most stressful things you can have in your life, they all happened at once. So from there I ended up on the street. I had a generic white truck, I stopped in a park and went to sleep in the back. In fact, I slept in a particular park for almost a year in my car. I want to introduce you to Claire G. Coleman. I heard Claire speak with moving insight about her experiences as a homeless person.

Claire's novel, Terra Nullius, won the Norma K. Hemming Award, which is a science fiction award named after Australia's first major science fiction writer. It is a powerful story of colonial dispossession, oppression, and resistance to invading settlers. I may offend some of you. That's not a surprise, I always offend someone. “This land was taken by force in a violent genocidal war. Every square inch of the Australian continent is unceded Indigenous land and everyone should always remember that. Australia is not the country you think it is. Australia is racist, sexist, xenophobic and homophobic. So don't make me choose what cause to fight for.

Because I am both, I am more: black and queer. Aboriginal and LGBTIQ ABCDEFG. I have been a resident of the region for 20 years. I came from Germany to escape the cold of the German winter. I found a studio in Myocum. Decent rental, not too much for me. After 3 years and 3 months, my landlord turned to me and said, “Nothing, I think I have to let you know due to lack of spiritual alignment.” He didn't like that I didn't join him in meditating in his little meditation hut. I had other harassment from other owners, mainly men. They would show up at dinner time with a bouquet of flowers at my door, uninvited. "No, I pay you rent, so leave me alone, okay?" In fact, I have been living in a car for almost three years.

Today is a lucky day. It's not raining so far. It's already a little dark. But I won't tempt any more “mozzies” by turning on a light. Here we go! I feel like the car is actually my armor, I don't even need curtains. I refused to put curtains on my windows because when I wake up in the morning I can look straight at the sky. At night and see the night sky. I'm not bored, but sometimes I feel lonely. I just want to curl up in the fetal position and disappear; I don't feel it anymore, because it feels very sad.

Homelessness is often seen as a man's problem. What comes to mind is a man sleeping rough on a park bench. You don't tend to think about someone's daughter, mother, or grandmother. As new data emerges, 405,000 women aged 50 and over have been identified as homeless or on the verge of homelessness in Australia. These women are all over the country, they are all over the world. It is a crisis at our doors. It has always been a struggle for women to have equality in Australia. Although there has been some progress, the fight for equality in the so-called “lucky country” continues to this day.

Women may have raised children, had reduced earning capacity, cared for aging parents, put their careers on hold, and had little or no retirement. Now, as they age and with no prospects of returning to the workforce, they find themselves part of the growing and shameful statistic of homelessness. They are often hidden, out of sight and out of mind. You won't see many women sleeping on the street, because they will sleep in their car. They will sleep out of public view. The women don't even tell their families what they are going through. You know, I think everyone would have been very surprised if we had said that "women in their 50s" are the fastest group of homeless people in Australia.

You know, in the 21st century, no one expected that. And the reasons for this are complicated. Retirement, family violence, pay equity, a whole range of issues that have led to what we see as a crisis. Good morning Pedro. Good morning how are you? Good, good, good, good, and are the photos already uploaded? Already up. Sometimes it seems so fucking big when we see that, you know, hundreds of thousands of people are homeless or on the brink of poverty. Well, it really started with a conversation with my daughter. It was around the time the big hall at Flinders St station was on the news, how it had been empty for 10 years and people were sleeping rough underneath.

And I said, "How many other buildings in Melbourne are empty?" and from there, Housing All Australians really evolved. The pop-up shelter is a short-term solution. It is not a solution for long-term housing, because it is only temporary. But why not use buildings that are empty to house people who are really suffering from housing stress? It was an old house that was converted into an office and now we are converting it into a home. With the goodwill of the real estate industry, we can restore these buildings for short-term use with an appropriate non-profit organization such as the YWCA or the Salvation Army and there are many others.

It is not a total solution. We must build many more homes. Well, it's a great space. Yes, and it's big enough that we can, as you said, take people into training and upskill them, if they want to re-educate, so that they can then also get back into the workforce. Thanks Rob, that's fantastic. You are already past a certain age, experience apparently counts for nothing. It's about disposability. Burn them. It's consumerist in the same way, young and new: use it until the next newer, younger thing comes along. So you think, who are you anymore? I'm not even… I'm not the me I always knew or thought I was.

I didn't know those places existed. I didn't know anything about Women's Housing, because that wasn't in my experience or relevant to me; that was for

poor

women in terrible situations who had to leave, you know, domestic violence, or

poor

single mothers who were trying to raise their children and barely liked to cope. It was for people like that, it wasn't for me. I was never going to receive benefits, welfare or a disability benefit. It will never happen, ever. Retirement? Sure, maybe. But, of course, that's how it was. You can go from being incredibly successful, having everything in place, and then, wow, a few little quirks, a couple of stumbles that you never expected, that you really hadn't allowed for, and there you are, on the verge of being homeless. .

I lived in Sydney for 13 years, I was in advertising for many years, I was a creative director, very intense work, very successful, a lot of pressure. But I was an unmedicated bipolar depressive. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 20 years old. I spent years taking virtually every antidepressant on the market and trying them. He was taking antipsychotics. I have been taking anti-epilepsy medications. I've been in all kinds of things. I have been sleeping 17 hours a day taking Seroquel and Risperidone. And that finally caught up with me when I had a hell of a year.

I lost my mother, my brother and my lover in a 12 month period. I have no money. I had to return to Melbourne and find a place to live. I started working again and got an apartment. I lost my job in retail and couldn't get another one. I just couldn't. I could no longer afford to pay $400 a week in rent. I went through super (annuity), I went through all that, and then you get to the stage where your stasis stage, where you can't move forward, you can't go back, I couldn't afford to live there and I couldn't afford to move.

And I honestly didn't know what I was going to do. And somehow this lovely friend had a friend of hers that she referred to at a place called Women's Housing. Only then did I find out about Women's Housing, which came to my rescue. I found a place to live, that was a major turning point. I feel safe. They told me I have this apartment as long as I want it or need it. If, by chance, George Clooney breaks up with Amal and, you know, we finally connect properly, he can move into my apartment with me, but he'll still have my apartment in my name.

This truck is called Rosie. And I... it took me a while to decide on a name, but I always felt very close to my grandmother and that's the name that came to me. I've been homeless, not homeless, since 2018 and I bought the bus in December 2018 so I've pretty much lived in it since then. This is my home. I don't want to live in the suburbs. I don't want to be stuck in one place. My dad was a homeless man. You know, my kids are there, but they're busy with their lives. So this is my home and my little life and life is good.

I used to think: I need a home. I need stability. I need a house. And then after 17 years of marriage, it was no more. I was a housewife, so I had no money and had to fight for child support. I still remember a moment when I realized I was alone. I thought, how do I do this? Yes, one day I thought, well, this is it, this is my life now and I think from then on I started to recover. I probably thought too: there has to be more to life than this. It was a real game changer.

I decided I didn't want to stay still or live in a house. So I went on a great trip. This bus has been the best thing ever. I guess I haven't found "home" apart from this bus. They are the decisions you make and sometimes the fear of the unknown prevents those decisions. Like I've used a good chunk of my super (annuity) to buy this bus, so you might be thinking, "Wow, it's done a lot of miles. Maybe something will go wrong with the engine." But I talk to her all the time and she gets the best oil, the best diesel.

She receives service regularly. She gets the new tires from her, you know? So with all those things you think, "Well, that might kill me." Well, don't think about it, you know? Much of it is just here. As long as I can drive, I will continue to do so. In addition to state and federal governments, there are hundreds of organizations, charities, non-profits and individuals working across the country to help and find housing for the growing number of women in housing stress. Even if a woman is lucky enough to receive a place to live, it is not a gift, it is not free.

She must use a portion of her pension to pay the rent. This type of accommodation may seem fancy, but it is often located far from the woman's social network and has little or no connection to the life she once had. I'm from England, I came when I was sixteen and in that period of time since I've been in Australia I've moved 25 times. My house in Brighton no longer exists for me, but Icomes to mind a lot more than I really realize. I think I must have passed by a construction site. So I'm here, in Newport. I'm not 100% happy living here in women's housing and while it was wonderful to have a roof over my head, it wasn't in my comfort zone.

It's scary. In fact, I didn't realize that all of this homelessness affects women 55 and older. I know I'm not in my comfort zone. But hey, I already have my apartment. I hope I never have to move from there. I don't have the emotional strength to move again. I don't want to. I want to make the most of everything I have now. My mother died in 2018. I later found out from the lawyer that she had made it quite clear in her will that my brother and I would have nothing of her at all. And the house has been left in the hands of the neighbors.

She was my mom. And she really hated us. I'm not really sure why, but she did. Many Christmases I was alone. I just feel like it's a family moment and since I don't have a family, I'd probably prefer not to acknowledge it too much or think about it too much and probably treat it like just another day. Here I am at 71 years old and I don't think I've yet woken up to the fact that, you know what, sometimes life just doesn't turn out the way you think it will. I finished my third novel and wrote a commissioned play.

I wrote it entirely during confinement. It is about four people, two of them homeless, two of them middle class, trapped in a disused train tunnel during an apocalypse due to a pandemic outbreak. And I proposed it before COVID happened. I always thought there was a possibility of getting off the streets again. What kept me doing what I was doing more than anything else was the hope that things would get better one day. If anything, being homeless has left me a little paranoid that something will go wrong again. You have this kind of paranoia that if... I could make a mistake and my life could go to shit again, so I tend to look for things that are disaster safety.

It's like being, in a way, constantly with heightened paranoia about being homeless. The writing that has lifted me out of homelessness and poverty began while I was riding in this car. "I think subconsciously I don't want to get rid of the positivity that this car has given me, in the sense that I built it from nothing to get it right, from experiences, while traveling in this old piece of shit." Her name is Helga Hogarse. She is also known as Helga Hogarse the Unstoppable. But she now she's really dying. She's not well um. She's rusty, so... But yeah, this is my old car.

The enormous real estate boom of recent decades has driven up housing prices. And the cost of rent has skyrocketed. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights states: “Everyone has the right to an adequate standard of living, including housing.” Whether it is a utopian vision or not, at its core, homelessness is the responsibility of governments. But also, as a society, we cannot continue ignoring this situation. There's just not enough affordable housing, there's not enough public housing. Without governments taking charge, non-governmental support services are buckling under pressure. For many people, owning a home is a dream out of reach.

Oh, this is so beautiful. There is a feeling of security and a feeling of being home. I want to thank you all for attending the opening of Garden House. In the last year, more than two-thirds of people accessing homeless services were women, and the main reason for accessing those services was as a result of family and domestic violence. In most cases, women must choose between staying in an unsafe home or becoming homeless. And while transitional housing like this doesn't solve homelessness, it really does provide a lifeline for those who need it right now. For forty-six years of marriage, I struggled.

Then when I came here, I'm safe, I feel safe and everything is fine.” I got married when I was 21 years old. We were very safe, we had properties, cars, maids and all that. We have a lot, but from the beginning my husband kept me like in a prison. He was like a military man, applying military rules in the house. He used to attack me and he used to push me out of doors and all of that stays outside the house for a long time. All my life I was with a family. And this is the first time I came without family and living alone.

But I still feel like all my residents are my family, I'm sorry. I became independent, I freed myself from everything, from all the ties and all the struggles of life, and together we shared and supported each other. So I'm happy here. I don't really feel alone as such, but it hasn't been the same. I've lost a bit of my passion for it and I think that creates a bit of fatigue. It's like I'm tired of this by now. I just don't feel like I used to, so I don't know if that's what's happening this year with more people traveling or if I'm going to go back to places I've already been and seen, but I don't think so. is that.

It just doesn't feel the same. I don't think too much about that, about what I'll do when I'm older. I imagine living in a van will have its difficulties. You know, I'll get a step up here, just little things like that. Yes, I honestly don't know. Hopefully I'd find a quiet place to be... I have this tendency to romanticize my situation. It kind of motivates me to get up every morning to make my tea and keep moving. But there is another side, obviously. A part of the society we live in is simply not happy with the choice I made to live in a car.

Do not leave the area. Where I just want to stay here where my home is, where my friends are. I look at other people's cars, who live in their cars, and I wouldn't want to share them with them, because some people are very messy and some people are clean and tidy like me. I managed to live full time, 24/7, in my car for 1000 nights, then I got this first offer, basically, to move into a place with my own bathroom. That is a very important factor for me. I have no problem sleeping in my car and I have no problem preparing my meals in the car.

The bathroom is a problem. I always missed the bathroom. That's the only thing that's... I don't know... there's just not much in the “county” that's actually anything more than disgusting, in the utilities. This place is often used as a retreat center. Due to the COVID-19 shutdown, the person who normally runs this retreat center kept receiving cancellations, so he was empty and offered to let us stay here due to the shutdown. I was the last to arrive of 5 women and 2 children. I immediately started unpacking everything from my car, sorting things into what was truly essential to me, and giving away other things.

So the fact is, I have room here to reorganize. It's pretty clear that there will come a day when I will have to move again. What I don't know is when it will be. They have given me almost three more weeks. That's a lot of uncertainty. I'm a little afraid of the day when I have to leave again, have to put everything back in my car and put it away. So I spend my time here when the weather is bad. I couldn't leave even if I wanted to. If I don't really take care of the inside of my vehicle to stay dry, it can get smelly.

I had that once and I don't risk it anymore. That means I have to have a meticulous plan, like not putting a wet umbrella in the car. I wouldn't put my wet solar panel on the car. The candle gives me an idea of ​​warmth and comfort. The unpredictable nature of living without a roof over your head is just one of the many complications homeless women face. Whether you're sleeping rough or short-term or in temporary accommodation, without stable housing, it's a rollercoaster of emotions: anxiety, trauma, fear and trying to survive every day. A new Australian vision needs to be reimagined with the political will to rebuild the hopes we once had.

The great Australian dream could be over. Maybe it's time to build a new dream. Well, next I'm heading to Brisbane to see my kids and grandkids. So I'll probably stay there for a while and catch up. And after that I'm not sure. No established plans. I kind of fly by the seat of my pants and intuition also comes into play. It's like I know what to do, when to do it, and I trust it. I will travel as much as I can. Home is where I park my bus!