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.

Sydney biennale and laying to rest the past.

Today has been a wonderful day, filled with sadness and extreme happiness. The day began with a sweet/sour goodbye to my dear friend N in Sydney as i boarded a plane to make it back to another dear friend's big day. My friend Kerry was to perform her one -woman show at a local theatre in front of selected guests and a camera crew from the ABC's Australian story. For Kerry, a great stand-up but no trained actor this was a major event, despite it being somefour months prior to her scheduled opening at a Melbourne Fringe venue. To have a film crew in the audience was something a seasoned pro would find daunting, especially given the script was still in workshop stage.

I am proud to say she nailed it. The material is so strong. Everyone is caught up in the moment; a friend doing the extraordinary. I am proud of her, just conquering the nerves and having the strength to face her demons publicly, especially considering her nearest and dearest were hearing events from her perspective for the very first time. Emotionally this was a momentous occasion for Kerry, her daughters and her ex-husband. There were tears shed in the auditorium as complete strangers were given a privileged insight into the Victorian justice system.

Even Kerry and her director, underestimate the potential power of this piece. As my friends know only too well, the acting teacher/director/performer and professional theatre reviewer still cannot sit inside a theatre auditorium and shut down the critics voice. Yet, today I became the dramaturg... another role I am comfortable in. However, this was not the role expected of me. I was to be the friend, caterer and general support crew.

I just find this impossible to do. I cannot switch off the producer/marketing head space. I know Kerry is sitting on a hit. Big time! It could do a national run easily.
But how do you speak to people so invested in a project? My dear friend asked my opinion as everyone (and that is literally everyone... oh yes except one regular theatre goer) gave Kerry such glowing feed back. We were all caught up in the emotion and success of the achievement.

Stupid me. I managed to avoid giving feedback at the venue when I discovered her director had very set opinions about the style the piece should take. In one sense she is correct, especially if Kerry is the 'talent'. However, I know this is bigger than that and needs a professional hand guiding the tiller. How can you discuss a project objectively when everybody ibvolved is too invested (and amateur).

Later when all the 'normal' people, the non-theatre people had returned home to their comfy suburban existence, Kerry and I sat together toasting a successful event.

I state again here that I am so proud of her accomplishement.


But then I made the mistake of being honest when she asked for my input. I was very cautious, trying to explain my point of view, but the moment I even hinted that the piece needed a dramaturg and professional actor.... well I lost my friend. The whole ownership issue and creative products is a fraught issue. Only the most successful palywrights (like Joanne Murray-Smith) know that for the piece to 'fly' the mother has to let go.

Only then in workshop can the writer see just what a gem she has created. How many great works falter at this first hurdle because writers/performers think that they alone can make the work 'fly'. I would say this is true at every level of the Industry, from Melbourne fringe to Hollywood blockbusters.

I guess this is why I no longer work as a theatre critic. I have made too many enemies by trying to be faithful to the potential of the work rather than the individuals involved.

I learned many years ago that no matter how good I thought I was, there was always someone better than me.... even with my own stories. I have learned the skill of letting go. It is painful but a necessary severing for the art to happen.

I want this piece to make its presence felt nationally, but I do not want my friend hurt or feeling inadequate. I am so conflicted. It really is none of my business... but basically I am still the woman prepared to mortgage her house to option a script, as I did in the eighties. I was defeated then... (Neil Armfield did the film, and unsuccessfully in box-office terms) but am too timid to take on the heartache again.

I guess I value my friendship with Kerry more... does that mean I am finally growing up?

The early hours of the new day.

I dont actualy recall how time was so mucked up today (yesterday). The day began with the usual lack of motivation to rise, despite a respite on the positive axis on Sunday. I didn't even rush to turn on the computer. I did check my emails and not having found the response I had expected from my current book editor, was as if someone had removed the plug and all the air was being sucked out and I was deflating. And what do I do when I am feeling like crap? I do a koad of washing... gee that sure motivates a person...NOT. Coming back into my study I realised that I have noy doen what I promised myse;f upon leaving hospital. I have not decluttered my desk space or created an 'inspiration wall' in front of me. The excuse as usual no spare cash. What for I hear you ask? Well how about a large hopper outside for trash, a tin of paint and a few new plastic boxes large enough to take A4 lever arch files. Add to my shopping list a wall of square pigeon holes and shelves behind me to move my actual hard copy articles and work from my Post Grad studies, let alone my much desired shopping spree to the wonderful storage solution stores for colourful archive boxes, pencil cups,stationery organisers etc... Ah simple dreams, no designer dresses for me at present.

Feeling decidely poverty stricken (unable to afford a double shot soy latte at Coast should I have somehow been able to summon up the energy to walk there) I began to notice all the cobwebs and dust having gathered during my time away. This simply made me feel even more of a failure and a slattern, hence no productive work mood at all.

Money.. yep solution to all problems (please just let me try it for once). On the emails was the latest update for the ASAL (Association for the Study of Australian Literature) July Conference at UNSW. There was the offer of relatively cheap accommodation that needed to be booked already. Well I am expected to be attending given I am the PostGrad rep for the organisation. I always look forward to this Conference.

Thought I should check out the closing dates for papers.. yep you guessed it whilst I was in total meltdown and new hospital admission. There goes that one. Bugger I really wanted to present a good postgrad paper in my last (hopefully) year. Damn, so much for the $1000 prize. Not even in the running.

Desperately turned to Beyond Blue to see if their grants were listed (as I had been previously advised... it's still April after all). No sign of anything remotely encouraging. My Oxford paper is looking decidedly unlikely at this stage. I noticed on the site a link to a Swinburne Opinio survey on Depression, anxiety, eating disorders and obsessive compulsivity. I thought at least I could fill it out and help my research colleagues.

Answering the questions was exhausting, like a full-on new patient interview. I was also very aware of how answers are validated by being phrased differently throughout the survey as a check on earlier responses, and I became quite anxious that my answers differed on the same questions in the different sections and my responses would invalidate my survey. This ridiculous level of anxiety and dare i say it, obsession drained any last vestiges of energy I could muster. How tiring to constantly revisit one's attitudes to self, relationships, parents attiudes and interactions, together with honesty about self-esteem, self-image and percieved character flaws. Also how confonting to even tick boxes anonymously online when not trying to deceive oneself or the researchers. I am definitely feeling like a basket case today after that little activity.

I noticed how when whipper snipping began (again) outside I felt anxious and a need to draw the curtains and hide from view. Every car, every dog bark made my nerves jangle. Even the sunlight when checking the washing was too bright and my hands began trembling (even more than usual). If I had had a box of chocolates, or tub of ice-cream it would have been demolished. Again I was equating food with emotional comfort.

Back to the emails... try to work. Get mind focused. There was THE email. My much anticipated praise for Sunday's new take on the book chapter again 'off the mark'. I re-read my earlier ideas (one way of the mark and one of some merit I suppose). Why does the editor think I can write this material? I am so rusty and so out of the loop. The whole of 2009 seems a lifetime away and everything has changed. My writing seemd very outdated now in 2010. An O/S publisher would surely agree with my sentiments on this... It's all getting too hard again.

Next came the complete exhausted collapse even when I had promised myself a relaxing regenerative 'nanna nap'. I only just woke before my son arrived home from TAFE and was able to put on the 'normal' mask for a few hours, Now everyone is in bed except me. I can't turn off my brain. I have tried guided relaxation tapes, lavender essential oils, a warm shower, 3MBS, PBS and Classic FM. No good. Reading is definitely out as I cannot concentrate or recall sentences recently read. I just want to walk along the ocean beach listening to the waves crashing on the rocks but am too frightened to even contemplate this alone. Nor can I summon the energy to drive to the front beach and just enjoy the moonlight and occasional ship passing in the channel.

And if all of this seems an over-reaction, there are many contributing fators to this state at present. My problem is, as Glenice and I often joke, that LIFE interrupts the smooth progress of PhD studies sometimes. I would love to lay out all the factors here but there are events and issues in life that one is not free to write about or record in blogs. They are other people's stories, trials and tribulations and not mine to share (or plum for self-justifications). Friends who know me well will understand what I am speaking of and those who know me a bit less will undersyamd if I say it is yet another crisis to be surmounted. There are also those who note (quite rightly) that my life has more dramatic plot twists than any episode of Neighbours. Life is definitely stranger than fiction and one person can live through everything I have encountered and endured through my adult life.

Suffice to say, I need yoga tomorrow. And thank you Mark for your phone call wishing me well and expressing your concern. It was very much appreciated. I must remember when things are blackest, I really am a glass half-full person. Every day I have been lucky to have had reassuring texts, emails and calls from friends and colleagues. I am truly blessed and not journeying alone... You would think sleep may come more easily now that I have 'downloaded' my brain's RAM?