Show Me The Money!!!!

  

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Today (25th November) is the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women. Everyone is talking about it. We are very good at talking about violence against women. We click our tongues and shake our heads at how awful it is and send love and light and prayers (vom). We like the memes, we pin the ribbon on our shirts and we all agree that violence against women is a tragedy and an epidemic. The statistics are appalling. Around one woman is killed each week in Australia, at the hands of someone she knows, most often her partner. The statistics are also inaccurate. Many cases of violence go unreported and unrecorded. What we know for sure is that most women, I daresay all, will have at one time or another, experienced some form of violence in their lifetime, perpetrated by a man, BECAUSE THEY ARE A WOMAN.

What many people refuse to do is to connect the dots. To see how so many things contribute to the idea that women are less than men. That they deserve to be mistreated and bring it on themselves. That they are not people, that they are not human and that they are not worthy of living a completely free, self determining and whole life, that while living in a differently sex defined body (and that's a huge bloody spectrum anyway) still deserve to be equal.

What I'm saying is that so many things around us are lies and historical power abuses that position women in a compromised place, leaving us open to marginalisation, disadvantage and abuse. Here are two things that happened to me yesterday, just in time for me to write this today, a day when we should be fighting to end this shit once and for all.

First I went to the toy section of Big W. What a farce. 

Apparently, children can only play with certain toys depending on what they have between their legs. Penis children get the mostly blue things. Things with wheels and guns and scary faces and aggro. Vagina children get mostly the pink things. The sparkly, fluffy, smiley and nice things. Boys get violence and power. They also get construction, noise, muscles, weapons. Girls get cleaning equipment, dollies (mummy or bust), makeup and hair accessories. Of course the reality is different. Most kids I see in the toy section run through all the aisles and want to look at everything. Watch the parents though. Are they guiding them to look in "their" aisle or away from the "other" aisle? 

Then this happened. As you may know if you've read my previous posts, I quit my job to look after my children, like I'd planned all along. I had three under two and childcare simply wasn't affordable. It was too far to travel to work. I also wanted to be present in my children's lives for the first couple of years. Having worked since I was thirteen, I decided I'd earned it and was lucky enough to have a partner who could financially support us. He wasn't a financial plan, our partnership was. I also wanted to pursue my writing, start a self-publishing business and embark on a new adventure. It hasn't been easy, but nothing ever is. It would have been harder to continue in a job I wasn't all that satisfied in, traveling into the city and back each day on public transport for sometimes three hours in total and being rushed off my feet to get everything done. I reasoned that it wouldn't be forever and having had extensive education and work experience, I could get back into the workforce pretty easily when the kids were all in care, even if only part-time. All three children will be in childcare for two days of the week as of next year. I hope to work those two days. It won't pay for daycare, but it will contribute and working isn't just about the money. It's about so much more. Like, you know, me being a person and that! 

The rude awakening, while not unexpected, has begun and I'm already livid. I was alerted to a NSW public service position in my local area! What!! First cab off the rank and it's potentially a dream scenario. I was in the public service for eight years before resigning. This new position was part-time; four hour shifts spread across a five day working week and maybe some Saturdays. I knew when I applied that I would only be available on Mondays, Tuesdays and Saturdays, but I could make up the required twenty hours easily. Two lots of eight hour shifts on Monday and Tuesday and four hours on Saturday. I applied anyway, hoping for flexibility. I got none. 

I was called by one of the recruiters to be told that my application was shortlisted. Of course it was. I have nearly a decade of experience in the public service and numerous years of experience in a range of other industries and positions. Mostly service focused. I have a degree and an extensive list of education and training. I am skilled, capable, efficient and have a strong work ethic. So what! She clarified my availability and apologised for wasting my time. She cut me from the list. 

The abruptness of it all was a shock. Again, I will tell you I wasn't surprised, but my hope and optimism was dashed so aggressively and swiftly that it left me furious. I tried to argue a case with her, but she wasn't prepared to even listen. So I wrote a complaint. Here is an excerpt below. Back to the drawing board and back to writing. 

".......My question is, how are women who are forced to give up their employment to raise their children, due to unaffordable and inaccessible childcare options, ever to hope to get their foot back in the door. You would think that the state government would be accommodating and supportive of women who sacrifice their livelihood to provide care for their children without burdening already struggling and competitive systems.

I can't understand these employment practices that demand women be available to provide free labour and free care, and then make absolutely no allowances to support them to ease back into the workforce until they can either afford full-time childcare or their children are of school age. It is misogynist, economically unsound and regressive policy that disadvantages women, children, the public service and their clients. In doing so, experience and expertise is discarded in favour of outdated ideas about workplace policy.

I hope you will consider my experience and make your employment practices more flexible and accommodating for women to ensure better services."

 

Cherry on the cake? Just then, a page I used to follow on Facebook called Bay Retro, a radio station in Malta, posted about Johnny Depp visiting the island. I commented on his history of abuse, particularly considering that today is dedicated to eliminating violence against women. They promptly deleted my comments and blocked me from commenting further. Admittedly, I did tell another commentor to fuck off when she suggested Amber Herd lied, so in their defense they had every right. Not everyone wants to talk about violence against women. Actually maybe I don't. I'm sick of talking. We know the facts. I want action. And it has never ruined a perpetrator's career. Check out the video of Johnny Depp abusing his ex girlfriend in the TMZ video here.