Only connect

I heard on ABC radio last week that anyone who spoke about class in Australia today is seen as an intellectual lepper.. an out of touch old Marxist with too simplistic an understanding of 'modern society'. Well I am sorry I do not agree. There is nothing simplistic about understanding the ramifications of an economic system based on profits and pure capitalism, when even Governments watch fiscal bottom lines rather than social responsibilities. It may have been naive to position Communism as the desirable social model but hey let's not throw the proverbial baby out with the bathwater!

This occurred in a week when at University my supervisor told me my writing was basically "all over the shop", disjointed and even random... or more precisely confused and disorganised.

Perhaps it is/was. But I cannot accept that speaking about class and social capital in the C21st century is outmoded. maybe if one lives a cossetted middle-class existence in a comfy gentrifying inner suburb with sufficient income to make ends meet, say six figures... it may appear that way.

But I live in a different milieu one that uncomfortably straddles two classes... the comfortable middle class bourgeoisie and the working poor and unemployed underclass. And whilst it is simplistic to claim that social problems are exclusively found in a particular class, there can be no denying that by having access to education and income life choices offer a greater choice of escape routes, chosen or not. It is having options that allow freedom, power and self-determination.

Many women, by virtue of holding the lesser financially stable (or even viable) position are constrained in their choices but by far the most severe cases where gender intersects with economics is in the area of class. I will never turn my back on this class war as a 70s style feminist. And whislt disagreeing with many women's choices I can at least understand them and empathise with their situations.

Does that make my novel's themes irrelevant today... or are they deemed passe, unacceptable or just plain unfashionable? So now we have 'acceptable victims of society' and 'unacceptable victims of society'.

It seems to play out like this in my mind; there are those who have 'had things done to them by society (usually in the name of good intentions), like the stolen generations and the forgotten children. These are the 'deserving victims of Australia'. In this camp are the 'good refugees', those fleeing war and persecution but arriving via the controlled screening methods. Then there are the 'undeserving victims'... the slackers, dole bludgers, dollar-driven welfare mothers and the queue jumpers.

How powerful is the rhetoric? But wait deconstruct it a bit further... especially the welfare recipients classification. Could not the term underlass be substituted? If this term is mobilised then society indeed has had an active role in constructing their position and power (or lack thereof). They too have been 'done unto' and not always in the guise of good intentions.

What happens when progressive Governments send manufacturing offshore where labor costs are significantly cheaper for Industry? We have a generation or two of workers who were content to work on the production lines... many even took pride in their labour, going home each day knowing that there was something solid to show for their exertion. Many even prided themselves on their dexterity and skill sets, along with a sense of purpose in financially providing for their families.

Now I am not speaking gender here... just what appears to me a middle-class devaluing of unskilled trades which drove our economic policies (and most other Western nations in the eighties, nineties and now).

Many female workers were exploited on factory floors and in machine shops but the Unions gave them a voice. We obtained (in theory) equal pay and maternity leave provisions, sick leave, hilday leave and the 38 hour week through the collective actions of bothe women and men unionists standing side by side to obtain a better work-life balance.

At the beginning of the C21st we have an emasculated Union movement and an exploited and fearful labourforce, with unskilled laborers confined to casualised and lowly paid service sector jobs. No-one works 38 hours as full-time employment these days... not even the boureoisie, many of whom are at their desks until well after 6pm at night, just to ensure they are perceived as taking their employment responsibilities seriously.

And what of those in our community whose parents cannot sustain employment for whatever reason.... housing instability due to suburban gentrification, negative gearing and escalating rental prices, reliance on poor public transport infrastructure or choices between affording and running a car and housing costs close to work opportunities?

When do the YUPPIES and DINKS recognise that not everybody has the same choices?

Just this week I attended a Magistrates Court and yet again the unequality is there in full view. The disenfranchised appear with monotonous regularity, their lives seemingly 'medicated' by booze and drugs. Next the downward spiral of legal costs, court hearings, records, bail, probation, criminal records, decreased employment opportunities whilst participating in Court Mandated 'mutual obligations' or ' community services' which in turn imapct negatively on Centrelink work diaries and 'preparedness for work'. Catch 22. Lack of employment due to track record.

Add in poor or little education, severe learning disabilities, mental illness, drug addiction and domestic violence and sexual abuse and then tell me that these people are 'underserving victims' of our society.

Today I have had a phone conversation with an acquaintance who is a single mother of two beautiful little girls. She is trying to study part-time to gain better employment opportunities whilst using the amount of child care she can afford on her Centrelink payment whilst paying private rental and trying to keep her car on the road. She is a single mother as a result of living in an abusive relationship (where the girls' father abused alcohol and drugs). He also threatened her many times with a registered fire arm kept in the house... as the gun must be kept at the house of the license holder (suburbia) even when it is deemed necessary for shooting feral animals and vermin on his family's farm some two hours drive away.

Yep, that's a safe home in this circumstance isn't it?

This man had his gun license suspended whilst having an alcohol interlock device fitted to his car... but now that his family have left him through fear, the Courts have deemed it safe to return his gun license! He has threatened his ex-wife's life with the bloody thing. She has an intervention order which he willfully ignores and the local police (who are frantically busy) ignore repeated calls to address his intervention breaches... as he is usually gone by the time they get there and there is no evidence! So no police action, no paperwork trail, no evidence for Court... only a woman in fear of her life and waiting for him to murder both herself and their daughters.

Is this a class issue? He also has no employment because if he holds a job he would have to pay maintenance. On welfare he doesn't have to... and he can keep paying his mortgage by living with another working single mother and her children, whilst he receives Centrelink benefits. No proof as they keep a separate bedroon for his new 'housemate' who as a sole parent couldn't afford to live in a house near her employment otherwise. It also allows her children stability of schooling to stay in the area.

Choices?

Options?

As if!

Then let's look at another acquaintances twenty-one year old daughter. Left school at Year 9 because she is functionally illiterate and very disruptive. Like many young women her focus is on gaining a boyfriend, who just might be Prince Charming and bring with him the possibility of a home and family. She studies at TAFE, gets a low level qualifiaction in a service Industry and works very long hours for very little pay. From her perspective her friends (unemployed and students) are having a much better time socialising each weekend whilst she is salving away in a kitchen.

It does not take a rocket scientist to realise that she will be tempted away from her employment which is not stable anyway to go back on welfare and party with her friends... after all that's where a Prince Charming might emerge. Sometimes it happens. She has friends who have met and coupled with young male apprentice tradespeople who have a solid future ahead. That's what she longs for... but again alcohol and binge drinking are part of the environs. Very soon she fails her 'job readiness' test through breaches due to hang overs and day-time sleeping in. Then the job offers are worse. More casual, reliant on non-standard working hours (meaning need for own transport). She can only afford an unreliable car which does not allow for a solid work attendance and major financial burdons to keep the thing going.

Inevitably, this young woman perceives pregnancy as a 'career option'. She wants a family and sees that being home with children might be the answer. The government pension looks good through her eyes, as she has never tried to provide a home for her family on such a sum, and the baby bonus does appear generous. Ah but where does she and her baby live? Her mother has re-partnered and lives in her step-father's home with his family. Her boyfriend is drinking, gambling and totally unreliable. She begins to fear his outbursts and rage. There is a ten year waiting list at the Ministry for Housing in this area and even longer further away from Melbourne.

Are we as a society not culpable in this situation also? How can we have an education system that allows 14 and 15 year olds to finish and enter a competitive labourmarket with no skills and no functional literacy? Would this have happened if her parents had paid for a Private Education? I think not... or if she was functionally illiterate, her family could have at least supported her through levels of TAFE studies until she was employable and skilled... by paying the fees.

I despair, when I am constantly told that my outlook on life is 'outmoded'. Is this not examples of class in all these scenarios? Working-poor, Howard's battlers... call them what you will, but I say they are the new Australian underclass. Whilst our society is so unequal in opportunity the issue of class will continue to underpin my writing... and to deny the importance of class demonstrates to me the degree of disconnect between the lived experiences of the educated boureoisie and the rest of us.

Only connect, that's all I ask of my peers.

Thoughtful Thursday

Yep, another recap... sorry.

After spending some time on the PhD (yep that's right... I worked on it at last), and attending a hypnotherapy session with Dr Caroline, I had to change hotels. I had decided to stay in Melbourne on Thursday night after attending either (or both) the Alumni Chancellors lecture and/or a colleague, Geoff's book launch.

I was able to rest my feet as the new shoes I purchased in the sales killed me and gave me the usual new-shoe blisters. I had decided that I would do more than window shop and that new boots would be great when I met my two 'oldest friends' fo dinner at the Casino on Wednesday night.

I had hoped to eat at a trendy celebrity chef restaurant there or at Southbank and had justified it by saying we could use a pre-dinner special of two courses and wine, so that we would eat at reasonable prices. It was good in theory, until I forgot to do my research and arrived at the Casino without any clear directions.

One friend saw a sign advertising half a kilo of prawns for $19.50.

We decided that if our other friend wanted seafood we would dine at "The Pub", a horrid American style chain version of a British Pub.

Yep, you got it... and absolute horror in my eyes.

It used to be where Planet Hollywood once was and even that was bad enough but this one had cheap and nasty oozing from every hard wood surface! I scanned the menu... not a great option for a post lap-bander despite listing around 50 mains! Horrid old-style pub stodge. What's the bet that everything came with "fries" and the soup de jour would be seafood based or bad pumpkin? Panic set in. Our friendship has only just blossomed in all its former glory in the last twelve months and honesty is still an issue... as are budget concerns for two of us. The third has less of a problem with dollars but here common sense and practicality rule out impulsive spending like we used to indulge as younger women.

Suddenly, my mind remembered that Crown had two Buffet's and from my memory of taking my son there as a fussy eating pre-teen we always found suitable cuisine for both him and I, and at what I remembered were reasonable prices. We could at least check that out first before succumbing to The Pub.

So I had finally conquered my own impulsivity and thought through the options and decided the celeb chef bistros (Maze grill, GA&S, Nobu, Phillipe Mouchel's Brasseries or even Tutto Bene in Southbank, or MaHa Bar and Grill were off the list of options. Bugger!)

Hate this thing called common sense.

Anyway things turned out fine. The bloody buffet, Sante had the same prawn deal but with full buffet also included. Thus my dear friends could share 1.5 kilos of prawns courtesy of my share, and I could search amongst the traditional fare. ( I found mushroom soup, an old favourite, and some rice with tofu, salad and an Indian curry puff... so I was okay). The roasts and fried foods looked horrendously over-cooked and mass produced, but what sealed the deal, apart from the prawns was the dessert station... a girl's heaven. My friends had two large dinner plate assietes of mixed desserts before I had even risen for my main. Even the wine was reasonable, a $15 Sauv Blanc... just what two drivers and one hotel guest required.

A mandatory visit to the chocolate box, and one friend's ciggy break rounded off a great evening.

The conversation was again thought provoking after the fact.

Where both women friends were in sms contact with respective daughters, I too had a very brief call to my son, which was strange. I am usually totally footloose and detached from my domestic life when I am in the City. Son and I were actually discussing the fact that he could meet up with arranged service people and I could stay another night in town, given that I had not blown a fortune on alcohol and fine dining (or boots for that matter).

My feet would be so grateful for a comfy bed and a chance to get blister pads on Thursday morning.

Once back in my hotel room, I realised how very far our lives have travelled. One friend is widowed and working very hard but slowly building a solid wealth base for retirement once she has been able to stop supporting her two adult kids. The other is in pain. She actually needs us together now like no other time in the past.

Just in this one year, she has lost her mother, thus embarking on that frightening life stage as the adult orphaned 'child'. After dealing with Estate matters and family war zones over the will and inheritances, her former familial ties have unravelled. Add to this a final move to end her unhappy marriage and a tempting possible affair with an old first love (who won't leave his marriage), she has come to see that her life is suddenly very different. She has to face being on her own as her adult kids grow up and eventually fly the nest. And in a totally C20-21st century dilemma her mind is turning to her oldest daughters forthcoming wedding. The loneliness of the parents of the bride table, is the stuff of Hollwod B grade comedy movies. She beseeched us both to be with her on this fraught day.

So you get the picture, one widow, one divorcee and a bitter and twisted old feminist sharing this "joyous occasion" (yeah sure)... with the ex-husband from hell. Please let this next stage in our friendship be as fruitful as I am already imagining it to be... an Australian version of the Golden Girls rather than Sex and the City!

ASIDE: Vale, Rue McLanahan!

What a performance and six marriages... wow, move over Liz Taylor, why can't American women learn from their mistakes??

So Thursday was to be another Melbourne night... more material for booktwo or screenplay, and more chance at deep friendships with new colleagues.

The only whinge about Thursday was that I had to move hotels. Mine was fully booked and there had been no cancellation when I had returned from Crown. So whilst surfing and looking for the best last minute deals that would fit my remaining budget, I was drawn to the firey spectacle refelcted in the calm black Yarra waters.

I am alone and wishing I had someone to share this beauty with, and a good bottle of red whilst snuggled in fluffy white towelling robes I contemplate what the future would bring for me as a single woman. Would I become a career woman in the near future? Would I ever meet a companion who could look beyond my mental illness or my physical attributes and age?

Do I really have to become Bea Arthur?

Pretty in Pink

Just when I thought I was in for one of those weekends, I wake to a wonderful image on the front of the newspapers. To see 14,000 people prepared to pay $50 and brave the Melbourne winter to raise money and awareness for breast cancer just re-affirms to me there are wonderful people in our community. How I would like to know more of such people. They are self-less and caring and prepared to back their beliefs all the way.

It takes some doing to travel to, parkthe car and attend the MCG on a cold Friday night. Well done all.

I should have joined you instead of sitting home and weeping because my plans went awry.I'm sure that the evening at work was quite entertaining but perhaps it would not have been as uplifting as going by train to the MCG. I'm sure they would have accepted a cheque and I could have covered it on Monday. Thus I would not have had to sit at home being berated for my selfishness and falling into a childish sulk.

I would willingly have spent this $50, as I probably would have had to spend that just to go to the work 'do' ($25 fuel, $10 tolls, $20 alcohol and then perhaps some food to soak up the damage.)

The thing that sticks in my craw [what's a bloody craw???] is that despite my tears and tantrum last night at missing the 'do', I would not have been missed.

It was more about me reaching out to feel connected than actually celebrating the occasion.

Perhaps I need to disconnect even further, emotionally.

Whilst my work colleagues have been supportive, there is room for only the occasional 'basket case' moment per friendship group. It is tiresome to always be worrying about an acquaintance, and that is all I will ever be out there. Deeper friendships require a common belief system, common social and political views and intrinsic ethical similarities. I can now honestly say, apart from sharing a work space and numerous laughs, I am often the odd-one out. AGAIN!!

I seem to take life 'too seriously', and do not adhere to the Aussie drinking and smoking culture. I am more happy sitting in a restaurant/ bistro sharing a good bottle of wine over stimulating conversation than sitting chugging down drinks whilst seeing who can come up with the sharpest put-down lines. Whereas lately I have happily worn being the brunt of many jokes... I am getting over that. I need to feel valued for who I am.

My body, illness and age are not going to be the subject of cheap jibes any more. Yes my calves are large but hey, I am working on it! Are you similarly striving to improve your health? How long have I sat on this little hurt? Months!

So in the cold hard light of a new day, I can see another chapter of my life drawing to a close. I just wish I had a sneak preview of what lies ahead. Is a new door beginning to creak open? If so where?

It is so hard to trust that all your efforts are not wasted and that the time spent will come together.

It certainly felt like all my skills were going to be recognised in the communications dept at work but that did not happen. I was caught up in the excitement of the promises and possibilities but there was no actual existing emloyment.

Also, I feel that my work skills remain undervalued within the public sector, yet I am too frightened to step outside the comfort zone of 'the ivory tower'.... and a regional one at that.


It is surprising just how much my self-esteem has fallen since being an 'at-home' Mum. is it any wonder I became morbidly obese... I hated myself. I wanted this 'no-body' to just disappear or die.

I am aware how dangerous it is to attach one's self-worth to employment and career, having made this mistake before in the '80s, but it seems to be a lesson I am very slow to learn.

In the same way I must take care not to define myself through a lack also, the lack of a significant other. Interestin this lack of partner is also held up in sharp focus at work... hmmmm, I wonder what that is telling me? Economically, I mean?

When I venture down the Main Street of Sorrento I get sharp pangs of jealousy as I see the 50ish couples sharing their Saturday morning lattes in the sunshine at the various cafes. These people dress well, in casual chique leisure-wear, read the broadsheets and generally seem so comfortable in their skin and with each other.

It is my fantasy, to have such a relationship, and the economic freedom to indulge in this past-time in one of my favourite locations (out of holiday season).

How can I become comfortable with who I am and not focus on what I do not have?

My wellness routine must find a way to deal with loneliness and I need to develop more resiliance. I have spent the last 30 odd years defining myself by what I do, or by the role I have... "sole-parent, welfare-Mum, single-mother, fat-Centrelink slob" , failure at relationships". Yet I want to be seen for who I am. Caring, giving, concerned, with a social conscience, commitment to equity and justice, and above all.. FEMININE!

Am I asking too much?

Why does this not seen 'enough'... after all I am physically healthy.

Unlike the people at the MCG last night whose lives have been touched by illness and tragedy, at least with my illness I am a survivor.