Is 45 too young to retire?

 

 

Image via Pixabay

 

That’s the dream isn’t it? Make a million dollars, which used to be considered quite substantial, but now is barely enough to purchase a home in Sydney. Then, stop working to live a life of leisure and creativity, self-worth intact. I mean, if I look at being forced out of the workforce this early, while still having a roof over my head and being able to eat from that perspective, I’m living the dream! Admittedly, I’m completely reliant on my partner financially. I’m resentful and grateful simultaneously. Is this the elusive middle way?

 

I started working when I was thirteen. I wasn’t legally old enough but hung out at a coffee shop after school and the owner made a sexist remark about washing his dishes. I mentioned he had to pay me and that was my first job interview. I worked consistently ever since until I embarked on motherhood. It’s not like I was unaware of gender inequality and the gender pay gap, the limitations of the gender binary construct aside, but I naively thought that I could overcome it. It’s only in retrospect that I see how deeply ingrained inequality is, particularly in the labour market.

 

In Australia, the gender pay gap is currently around 14% and is measured using Australian Bureau of Statistics figures, by calculating the difference between the average full-time weekly earnings of men and women. For the last couple of decades, it has been between 15% and 19%, and it can be affected by factors such as occupation, industry and sector; public or private. The two main drivers of the gender pay gap are occupational segregation and the undervaluing of feminised work. In Australia, women tend to congregate in roles that are incorrectly and degradingly considered to be less skilled, like those in the nurturing and care sector, the service industry, the humanities and the arts. For example, industries like education, nursing, aged care and childcare are dominated by women. In 2016, around 97% of childcare workers were women. Their average income was around $600 a week, ironically seeing many of them unable to work full-time and afford their own childcare fees. On the other hand, the stock market value for the sector at the time saw profits of around the $1b mark. Furthermore, even in skilled professions, women still tend to earn less compared to their male counterparts for the same work. Women who pursue successful careers, also tend to lean on other women to support them with domestic services; race and class exacerbating inequality. Additionally, women tend to do more invisible and uncredited labour including emotional labour. We grumble about its exploitation, but instead of valuing it as vital within a paid economy, which we have seen starkly during the current global pandemic, we dismiss it and continue to deny its remuneration.

 

Throughout high school and university, I had regular part-time work, mostly in food service. I was encouraged to earn an income, take on responsibility and have a strong work ethic. That’s the main reason my parents emigrated to Australia from Malta in the 70s and 80s. I was obligated. A contribution of hard work builds character and attains freedom for myself and others, I was taught. Menial work, a means to an end; education paramount.

 

So, I studied hard. I did well in high school and got a high score at the end. I got into university but had no direction or guidance about what my desires or strengths were, so I followed my heart. I did an Arts Degree. They were affordable and popular when I studied between 1993 – 1995 and we had HECS (Higher Education Contributions Scheme). I never worried about the cost because I knew I didn’t have to pay anything until I was required to pay it back through the taxation system once I started earning a decent wage over the threshold. I didn’t notice the debt, but I remember the relief when I’d paid it off. The system has gradually become more complex to navigate and Arts degrees themselves more expensive. I’d chosen essay subjects in high school; the easier road apparently. My choices were similar at university and while I didn’t fully participate in university life, I did have a few lightbulb moments.

 

My Anthropology Professor in first year was the only one that ever gave me a High Distinction. Another Anthropology tutor suggested I stay back after class to listen to Noel Pearson speak. Once in Sociology, a mature age student sat beside me in a lecture and suggested I choose Women’s Studies in second year. She thought I’d enjoy it. I took her advice and she was right. I failed English miserably in first year. I didn’t realise I’d failed until third year, when I was lining up (in person before the internet) to register, hoping to graduate. I had to pick a first year subject to make up the units to get my degree. I chose Government 101. Practical and useful I thought. I still don’t understand the Westminster System. I graduated and John Bell from the Shakespeare Theatre Company spoke at the ceremony. I hired a gown and got photos near the Jacaranda tree. My family came. We were like aliens on a foreign planet. Working class people from the western suburbs, a daughter of migrants, don’t belong in that world. But I got my piece of paper; it was currency. An example of intelligence, commitment and completion. An unattainable symbol of prestige in my family.

 

My first full-time job was in residential community support. It was the closest I got to feeling that dignity of having finished an Arts Degree at the University of Sydney, majoring in Women’s Studies, Anthropology and Sociology and putting it to good use. Doing my Masters or a Phd wasn’t really an option. I’d already strayed far enough out of my lane and I wasn’t about to push my luck. I certainly couldn’t afford to. I was eager to work and be debt free. I spent three years in a domestic violence refuge, doing important work that was shamefully undervalued. There were three generations of women working side by side and to my knowledge, I was the only one there with a degree. It felt superfluous in comparison to the abundance of wisdom and life experience of my co-workers, but it proved invaluable during the refuge’s transition from a grassroots shelter to a funded and operational service provider. I burnt out fast, three years in, feeling like the nature of the work and the lack of resources didn’t attract the compensation or appreciation it deserved. The older workers had more tenacity than me.

 

The next six years were an attempt to figure out where I could be productive and valued in the private sector, because as I’d learned, the community sector was potentially harmful to workers; neglected by government, funding bodies and society at large. It was underfunded, underpaid and traumatic work. I have regrets about giving up too soon, but my body and mind’s deterioration gave me little choice at the age of 23. My parents had been recently married and had had me at that age, but I dreamed of doing more with my life, given the opportunity to delay settling down. The private sector, I assumed, would have boundaries, safety nets and a pathway to a ladder to climb. With a degree under my belt and several years of experience doing the gritty work, a fancy office and people in tailored clothes would welcome me with open arms and help mold me into something befitting my intellect and compassion, I thought. I discovered that the opposite was true. To make it in the corporate world, I soon learned I had to be callous and compromise some of my values. Empathy and collaboration wasn’t encouraged, competitiveness and individualism was. I had learned about the structures that demanded my subordination in that world. Evidently unionised menial employment, an Arts degree with a feminist angle and supporting diverse survivors of family violence were useful and empowering eye openers. I did my best but without vocational qualifications and unrelated experience, it was only possible to start at the bottom in a private company. Receptionist, secretarial or mail room and casualised. No perks, bare minimum. I was expected to work my way up and I was motivated at first.

 

One of my first private sector jobs was in a fashion warehouse of a small-scale designer as the receptionist at head office and the designer’s personal assistant. I cringed at the stored carcasses of fox stoles, I prepared lunch for the staff every day and picked up her son from school.  A couple of the men in the office were a bit too aggressive for my liking but I knew my assertiveness wouldn’t be welcome. It was a four-hour return commute each day by car and it proved unsustainable. I felt ungrateful and oversensitive, but I knew toxic when I saw it, so I quit.

 

Shortly after, I found a job at another corporate company, an engineering firm comprised of five smaller businesses. My “office” was a dark room surrounded by compactus shelving units. I had a huge bowl of lollies on my desk, that I was responsible for keeping full for the staff to nibble on when they came to return files to my in-tray. I bound documents with the coil binder machine and went to the post office to send and retrieve mail. Sometimes I relieved at reception and took calls. I recall supporting and advocating for a co-worker that was being abused and stalked by her parents, my refuge skills resurfacing. A senior staff member raised his voice at me once and I didn’t hold back like before. I shouted back with no inhibition to never speak to me that way again. A female senior staff member made him apologise but it was the beginning of the end. Once, we were having an office celebration. I went out to the balcony for a cigarette and in the meantime, someone had closed the glass sliding door. On my way back in, I walked into it like a budgie flying into a mirror. The office erupted into laughter and quickly refrained to save me embarrassment, but I didn’t feel the humiliation. I realised that even walking into a glass door with full force while everyone snickered at my expense didn’t make me feel any less worthless than I already did working there. I started planning my exit.

 

I began working in a call center selling insurance products for a conglomerate of financial institutions. It was an opportunity I probably blew to be honest. They let casual staff turn up every day if they were keen. We sat in a large open plan office at rows of desks, behind computers, wearing headsets. Calls dropped in as we cold called existing bank customers, offering them life and accident insurance products with free coverage for three months. We signed them up and gave them details about how to cancel before the billing kicked in. It was easy and I learned to sell quickly. I had a knack for connecting with people in a non-threatening and nurturing way. I didn’t pressure them and if there was no interest, I empowered their decision making and didn’t waste either of our time. I made them feel like they were in control, that they were getting something for nothing if they only remembered to cancel, but if the price suited them, they would wind up with a great product. If there was strong resistance, I wished them a good day and promptly hung up. I got so good at selling they used me to test out phone lines. Once, I spoke to so many customers in one day, the system looped back around to the first person I’d called that morning, then the second and third and so on. It baffled the IT guys, I’d clocked it. So, they promoted me. When I say promoted, I mean the pay and casual status remained the same, but I got to sit at a different desk and process cancellations. There was less volume and more responsibility. I sat in a more private room, away from the entry level plebs, among the second and third-year plebs. With one foot on a possible rung, I had a moment of self-righteous doubt about working for banks and insurance companies. I’d been looking for an out, a return to dignified, ethical work in the care industry and scored a job in a disability support service just as the “promotion” kicked in. It was a huge mistake. I went straight back to that feeling of powerlessness and grief that had sunk me at the refuge and I lasted as long as the probation period before finding something else.

 

I secured casual employment with future potential at a labour hire company. They advertised the position as temp to perm, as was becoming the trend. The incentive was that if you proved yourself over a twelve-month period, you would then become full-time staff. It was one of the more unusual experiences I had. For instance, only Capricorns were promoted to management – I’m a Gemini, I was already out of the running. I don’t recall ever doing any substantial or relevant work. I took calls from labourers and airport baggage handlers, usually giving them scripted answers about when they could expect to be paid. I sorted timesheets, shuffling them into alphabetical order in a wooden sorter. I remember emptying boxes, retyping something that had already been typed, returning files to shelving, meeting with an angry man who hadn’t been paid. My refuge experience and training dealing with possible aggression and violence saw me draw that short straw. They tried to include me socially, but I had nothing in common with my co-workers. A team building weekend in the Blue Mountains was organised by the company. We had to trek through the bush and work in teams to find a mock plane wreckage. I located the wreckage in a tree but none of my teammates believed me. They told me I was going “bush mad”. I tried to explain that if they followed me a few meters and looked up they’d see it too, but they refused. The other team won. I quit before the Christmas party having lined up another casual role.

 

I knew the corporate world was not going to ever feel safe or right for my interests or skillset. I had one last attempt at a private vascular clinic. Medical administration felt like care. Another temp to perm role, it also didn’t work out. I contributed high quality work but at the end of the twelve months the manager cut my shifts instead of making me permanent, so I quit. It was the first time I was truly unemployed with nothing to go to. I spent November to February of 2004/2005 unemployed and on Newstart, barely covering rent, job hunting over the holiday period. Centerlink forgot to send me a group certificate and the taxation office audited me. I had to pay them back $300.

 

I eventually landed in the public service in workers’ compensation health administration and stayed for a decade. It was unionised, a permanent role with Award protections and stability. I had never been ambitious for power or wealth. I only wanted security, a decent income, camaraderie and to be of service. I finally felt like I was making a difference to people’s lives and it allowed me to embark on adulthood with the self-respect and independence I’d always strived for, even though career progression was corporatised and near impossible. In that role I was able to travel, I met my partner, we bought our first home and started a family. I wasn’t fully prepared for the interruption to my working life that having children was going to bring.

 

I had my first child and while on unpaid maternity leave, conceived two more; twins. Suddenly we were responsible for three young children. Returning to full-time work was not an option until they were in daycare, around the age of two which was our personal preference. Privatised childcare is expensive and even with the rebate and my partner’s uninterrupted income, we could only afford a couple of days. Sydney is cursed with the tyranny of distance, traffic, and inadequate parking and public transport. Not working in my local area felt overwhelming. My partner and I agreed that we’d only access school hours at daycare to get accustomed to a routine as early as possible, knowing how short the school day is and how unaccommodating full-time employment and workplaces are to these limitations. If I was going to return to work, it was only going to be a couple of days a week with daycare restricted to school hours.

 

I had a total of four years out of the workforce and watched as my superannuation plummeted compared to my partner’s and as soon as the twins joined their older sibling at daycare two days a week, I started looking for work. Seven months and over 60 applications later I found another public service administration role in health. I persevered for almost three years, but then Covid-19 hit. The kids had started primary school by then and I was required to home school. It was a short-lived return to the workforce.

 

After lockdown ended, I didn’t go back to work. The risks felt too high, the uncertainty of further adjustments related to the pandemic too distracting. The casualisation of my role, the culture of devaluation of administrative work in general, the travel, and the lack of working from home options, which we needed a pandemic to even begin to talk about as a nation, didn’t provide enough incentive to balance the demands of a young family with paid employment. So, for now, I guess I’m semi-retired and hope to have a decent income again someday. Or not.

 

Big Ideas Forum - Beyond COVID Northern Beaches Council Webinar

Image via fertilityroad.com

Last night I attended the online Big Ideas Forum Webinar through the Northern Beaches Council called Beyond COVID. It was initially an interview with Dr Norman Swan, a health journalist and physician, then went on to a panel discussion which included Lucinda Brogden AM, Chair of the National Mental Health Commission, Dr Sean Turnell, Associate Professor of Economics at Macquarie University and Greg Jones, former school principal and executive member of Community Co-op Northern Beaches. It is available to watch here.

Before I delve into it, I just want to comment on the Acknowledgement of Country that takes place at the start of these gatherings and how disappointed I always am at the irreverence and insincerity. I know it's an awkward forced protocol that many simply read off a piece of paper without actually thinking about the meaning of what they're saying, but it has become so tokenistic that it feels like an insult to even bother. I refuse to accept that in the whole of the northern beaches, the council can not find one Traditional Owner or First Nations person or group to do a genuine and heartfelt Welcome to Country - particularly NOW, with everything that is going on around the world. My guess is that there has been absolutely no attempt to connect or collaborate. If indeed there has been no progress, then the Acknowledgement itself needs to be better. It's not just something you rattle off, it's something you feel and make people feel and understand so that we can all start off on the right foot. This needs to change. It's confronting, but it needs to happen. We need to acknowledge that we are on stolen and unceded land, we need to address sovereignty, the lack of treaty and pay our respects genuinely to elders past, present and emerging. This is a significant step forward that requires honesty and truth, many are not yet ready to face.

The interview with Dr Swan, as always was informative and evidence based. If you haven't already, get acquainted with The ABC podcast he does called Coronacast. They are short 10 minute episodes released daily, covering the basic updates of what is happening around the country and around the world. 

Dr Swan explained many aspects of the Australian experience with COVID 19 and commented on why we did so well as a country. The main thing we got right was that we closed borders, particularly to China early, back in February 2020 - the first case being discovered on the 25th January. The pandemic was then managed collaboratively by government, particularly the states, business/workplaces and the community. It became a unified movement, largely communicated through social and digital media which forced people to act and the federal government to respond on an evidence based approach. This was to act strongly and intervene as early as possible. The World Health Organisation (WHO) urged immediate lockdown action, as it is impossible to make these decisions retrospectively and undo harm. Australia's early response and heeding of this advice was able to maintain COVID related deaths to just over 100, which while extremely regrettable and tragic, are comparatively good. Locking down early, closing borders and taking advantage of being islands, insisting on physical distancing and later extensive testing to identify clusters saw Australia and New Zealand become world leaders in flattening the curve and keeping numbers down. It gave us time to prepare health services and hospitals for possible case increase and slowed the spread of the virus. In comparison, the US and UK waited much longer and are bearing the tragic consequences now.

The discussion then turned to the recent increase in numbers in Victoria. Dr Swan stated that referring to COVID cases in terms of 'waves' isn't very accurate and applies more to illnesses like Influenza as there are things in place like vaccinations and herd immunity. With COVID it is more accurate to refer to spikes in cases, whereby transmission rates tend to double daily with no cure, no vaccine and still very little predictability about how the disease will impact people, taking into consideration things like co-morbidities, age, and social/economic factors. While Victoria is experiencing high numbers, Dr Swan mentioned the case in Balmain in Sydney which indicates the disease is still present in NSW and it is not yet time to relax.

He talked at length about the difference between NSW and Victoria in terms of the way health services are structured. In NSW we have Area Health Services which include the local hospitals, but also health service provision on the ground in each geographical location. This structure allows bigger areas to be covered in order for the population of that area to receive health services aside from the local hospitals. This infrastructure is not present in Victoria which seems to only have stand alone hospitals and GP/Specialist services. This impacts testing, treatment and service provision.

Locally, Dr Swan discussed the cases around Manly and Dee Why early on in the pandemic and how immediate lockdown and extensive testing was able to contain the clusters, area health and hospitals were able to oversee treatment, isolation and recovery, and this prevented community transmission. This did not work as well in Bondi where community transmission was allowed to travel a little further out. 

It is evident that social distancing has a huge impact on community transmission. Dr Swan talked about the demographic of people who contract COVID and while globally, for example in places like Italy, there was a lot of publicity around the elderly, it is a much younger demographic that can contract the disease, show few symptoms and then transmit through large gatherings and socialisation. In Italy, for example, there was the tragic circumstances around cut off ages for access to ventilators being around the age of 40 mark, when the hospitals were bombarded with extreme cases. Big social networks, which young people are more likely to have, pose the biggest threat, particularly in gatherings that take place indoors, with lots of people and over an extended period of time.

In regards to a vaccine, Dr Swan thinks this is a long way away and while there is promising research coming out of Oxford University, there are many barriers to a vaccine for a respiratory illness due to the nature of the membranes and organs involved and how they function. Usually treatment relies on activating an immune system response and then needs to be administered annually. In some cases like with SARS, vaccines were found to create a hyper immune response which can cause autoimmune disease. The good thing is that any vaccine progress coming out of the UK will likely be publicly funded and therefore widely available and shared. The opposite is happening in the US where research and funding will likely be privately conducted and therefore not shared. Finding a vaccine is condensing 10 years of research into 1. It's obviously urgent.

Discussion turned to the effectiveness of wearing masks. Dr Swan is of the opinion that masks are a good idea when there are high rates of community transmission, as is happening in Victoria. Wearing a mask is not about protecting yourself from getting infected, although that's a bonus. It's about preventing transmission of the disease to others if you are carrying it and have no symptoms or if you are indeed ill. Masks are particularly useful indoors, for example whilst shopping and on public transport. The main factors to consider are things like the quality of the mask and availability. Both issues are easily addressed, but the culture of wearing masks is a bit harder to change. 

The health implications during this pandemic are complex, particularly in relation to how each individual is likely to recover from infection and all the factors that contribute to their well-being before and after having COVID. Another matter to consider is how people have responded to healthcare generally during lockdown to minimise risk. Telehealth in Australia has been particularly effective as people have been able to consult with GPs remotely and continue any ongoing or chronic health issue management. An area of concern was the decrease in cancer screening numbers whereby people have avoided going to routine screening while in lockdown. There is some unease around people delaying testing for early detection and risking delayed diagnosis. 

The impact of the pandemic has not only been on public health but also the economy. Dr Swan mentioned that data from the 1918 influenza pandemic demonstrated that places where lockdown happened earlier were able to recover economically much quicker. It focuses on the idea that in the long run prevention is better than cure and the impact on the economy will happen either way but will have more long term consequences and will be harder to recover from if we allow people to get sick, overwhelm our health services and create more trauma.

At this point the panel joined the discussion. I was disappointed but not surprised that it consisted of four white men, including Dr Swan and the facilitator and one white woman. Until we allow diverse voices in these discussions we continue to assume that the majority of people are white and middle class. This is simply not the case and while divergent groups are often referred to as 'minorities', they are not in fact less than in number and importance but instead are marginalised as such. This is prevalent in the local area.

The panel discussion was mainly an exchange of ideas about community support, focusing on mental health and connection. There were some examples of the local community exchanging material necessities like donations of food, volunteering of time and provision of support to those impacted by lockdown. It's nice to live in a community where everyone is doing great and can help those doing a little bit less than great and then taking comfort in the ease with which we got through hardship working together. However there was no mention of people who may fall through the cracks and the reasons why, which can erase the experience of many people. 

At one point there was mention of the suffering experienced by self-funded retirees. How they have paid taxes all their lives and never needed government assistance and now suddenly their investments might be worth less and they may be embarrassed or ashamed to ask for assistance. It is important to express empathy and to consider anyone who may be impacted by this pandemic in a substantial way. We just need to truthfully define what substantial means. Not having enough money to pay rent or feed your children is very different to a decrease in wealth that does not impact your day to day survival.

Mental health was discussed extensively, particularly community connection and loneliness, but the discussion stopped short of addressing issues like individualism, capitalism, cultural diversity and wealth inequality. There is still a long way to go in facing some of these issues in this demographic.

Some talk centered on things like working from home, how this has been a necessity and many have adapted well, but for so many businesses and organisations, there needs to be a face-to-face market place and people are social animals that need human interaction. All this is true, however it shouldn't take a pandemic to provide people with flexibility and work/life balance. There was brief mention of people who benefit from the ability to work from home occasionally, but it wasn't discussed adequately. Parents/guardians of young children for example can benefit greatly from flexibility in the workplace. Current employment structures and culture can increase the exclusion of women from the workforce and public life when they have very young children and this inflexibility can also prevent men from spending quality time with their children. Many people take care of aged parents, family members with disabilities or themselves experience mental health issues that are alleviated with working from home options. It's important to maintain a functioning economy but not at the expense of a healthy and balanced society. There was no acknowledgement of front line workers who never had the option to stay home; doctors, nurses, teachers, community workers, supermarket staff, delivery drivers. Essential workers were not mentioned at all. There was also no recognition that for many, online options are still unavailable and inaccessible due to cost, access to devices and reception issues. Connectivity was a big local issue. Just ask anyone who worked from home or home schooled.

It was a valuable webinar, and I appreciate the limitations of time that don't allow every single aspect to be covered, but the panel discussion fell short. It was out of touch and outdated, particularly in the face of the global sociopolitical movements that have emerged rapidly in response to and simultaneously with the pandemic. The ideas seemed to come from very traditionalist and conservative perspectives that are no longer relevant or are only true for some people. We now have the information and technology to question the systems and structures that are only serving a small number of people and it isn't justified for those people to declare that everything is working, when it clearly isn't for many. It was a missed opportunity to address broader issues and failed to acknowledge that to come out of this pandemic relatively well is to have access to immense privilege.

Tracey Spicer with Anne Summers at Warringah Library

Last night I went to Warringah Library to see Tracey Spicer talk to Anne Summers about her new biography Unfettered and Alive. I've been an admirer of Anne Summers since I was in my 20s and working in the Women's Refuge Movement of NSW, for which she was partially responsible for establishing through founding the first women's refuge in Glebe called Elsie. 

When I walked in the room my first thought was the same thought I have in most places in this geographical area where I've lived for the last decade, but also in this type of gathering of white feminism - it's a thing. Everyone was white. Myself included of course. I pass as white, mostly. I avoid the scrutiny that people of colour face that attracts erasure, racism, victimisation and incarceration, but I'm not fair enough to pass as a 'real' Aussie for some people, because I'm not Anglo.

I looked around trying not to look too conspicuous, to see if I could spot some diversity - there was a smattering. I was born and have lived in Australia most of my life, but my background is Maltese, and if you don't know me, it's hard to tell if I'm European or Middle Eastern. I interpret all frowns in my direction as suspicion, so I work hard to adjust my standing bitch face and smile, even though I enjoy my SBF as my neutral face. It's comfortable. I made the assessment that most people were white and past middle age, mostly women, some men, and a few young people.

I looked up at the projection of the cover of the book on the wall and instantly thought to myself 'oh look that's white too, with blonde writing'...

Image via: Allen and Unwin

Then Tracey and Anne walked in and I thought 'Barbies'. That's my childish reference, what we all grew up with as the ideal girl; tall, thin, blonde, in a pants suit. I do respect both women immensely, but they don't reflect myself back. I read Tracey Spicer's book The Good Girl Stripped Bare and enjoyed it, but I couldn't relate to a lot of it. She had the Barbie life I would never have as a child of migrants. As removed as her life experience is from mine, I found some commonalities about her experiences in the workplace, but mine were not in elite news rooms or like Anne, in academia or offices of government. My experiences were in take away shops, factories, offices and the public service. It's hard to relate to someone when their life, while being portrayed as ordinary, is actually kind of extraordinary to someone from my own background - migrant and working class.

Anne and Tracey talked about a number of issues and experiences that Anne has covered in her book. They discussed the gender pay gap and the necessity for equal pay to be legislated, like in countries such as Iceland. Anne said it's no use leaving this issue in the hands of tribunals like Fair Work. It doesn't work. It complicates the matter and makes equality not only too difficult to access, but too complex to establish in the workplace. While I've never really worked on a professional basis, so was never really comparing my wage to my male counterparts, I've certainly experienced sexism in the workplace. They wouldn't let me get my forklift driver's licence in the factory I worked at with my dad while I was at Uni and I've worked with more incompetent and mediocre men who excelled while their female counterparts worked twice as hard for half the recognition, than I can count. My refuge experience was my link to Anne. I only spent three years there, because the pay was terrible compared to the risk and stress I was experiencing. Some types of work are simply not valued because they are considered feminine and are largely occupied by women - nursing, teaching, community support, early childhood, aged care. That influences the pay gap too.

I worked in a refuge named Bonnie in the western suburbs of Sydney, after graduating from my Arts degree at Sydney Uni, where I spent three invisible years, floating through the old buildings and gargoyles, not really making any friends, overwhelmed by the social pace, barely able to raise my voice above a husky whisper. Bonnie was established around the same time as Elsie. Folklore among the three generations of women I worked with was that Bonnie may have preceded Elsie but the attention was always focused on the city refuge not the one out in the sticks. The demographic was different too and may have contributed to Bonnie's obscurity. In the 1970s and 80s the western suburbs became home to a large number of Vietnamese and Cambodian refugees following the exodus of people at the end of the Vietnam war, but the western suburbs were and still are largely populated by migrants from all over the globe.

Customs Officer Frank Dalton holding a Vietnamese refugee child, Xye Than Hueon the deck of the Tu Do in Darwin, November, 1977. Courtesy National Library of Australia - Image via: Migration Heritage NSW (site no longer active)

It was the 90s and I worked with women in their 60s who'd been there in the 70s when the refuge was established. There were also the baby boomers who secured funding, assets and corporatisation and me and my peers who began the process of digitising our newly created systems including policies, procedures, values and mission statements. The refuge is still in operation today as an advanced network of support services, thanks to the tireless work of the women who insisted on networking with the community and running the organisation efficiently whilst maintaining its independence. Elsie was taken over by St Vincent De Paul, (religious organisations tend to be preferenced for funding these days) in 2014 and while it still operates today, it can be argued that it lost its feminist principles by having to adhere to the NSW government's Going Home Staying Home policy, a problematic concept for women experiencing domestic violence and those supporting them to leave an abusive relationship. 

I was keen to hear about the establishment of Elsie, how local women squatted in a disused house and turned it into a safe haven for battered women and wanted to ask Anne about the value of grassroots movements today. She talked a little bit about 'hitting the barricades' again and using social media as a tool for activism and I would have loved her to elaborate. I was too shy to speak up, still the intimidated migrant in a room full of Anglos.

Tracey and Anne mentioned briefly the factionalism that can happen in feminism, almost as though women are all individuals with different backgrounds, experiences, thoughts and lives. Go figure! This idea that women can't disagree or experience the world from opposing views and ideologies is one of the problems that keeps us subjugated and all lumped in together as 'other'. Men can be valued as individuals, but as a women's movement, we've often had to homogenise to maintain our solidarity, which almost always reverts back to white and middle class. They briefly touched on this with discussion about Anne's experience working with Gloria Steinem on Ms. Magazine in New York and the disagreements they had which she elaborates on in her book. But more than that it was palpable in the room that discussion about women being different to one another and having different needs, agendas and disadvantages was only going to remain on the surface. What white women tend to do is hold onto their perceived superiority at all costs, for the good of unity they say, by erasing the intersectional needs of marginalised women. We need a balance of both. We need to refrain from attacking each other, but reverse racism isn't a thing. When you're white, your skin colour isn't the thing that marginalises you and yes, we still need affirmative action. Anne talked about being criticised as being Anglo and commented that it wasn't something she could help or change about herself, but she could be vigilantly aware of her given identity, (at least as much as non-white women are) and white women need to learn the art of stepping aside. They need to stop stealing the work and achievements of women of colour and passing it off as their own, give them credit when it's due and by using their privilege help non-white women to be self-determining and independent so that they can strengthen their own communities. And they need to let them disagree with their brand of feminism, which doesn't always serve everybody equally. For more on this, start following Ruby Hamad on Twitter and her experience as a journalist who is constantly ignored when she writes something, only to have her work plagiarised, discredited and celebrated as the work of someone else. I see it all the time, particularly at work. They'll talk to you when they need something, but it's really hard to break the white barrier! That invisible wall that not only denies you credit where it's due, but I've witnessed and experienced the existence of women of colour literally being ignored, being othered by white women, the same way men other women generally.

The discussion was interesting, anecdotal and covered many issues including abortion and how important it is to achieve reproductive rights in the form of safe, legal and accessible abortion, and to keep talking openly about our experiences, all good introductions to the content of her book. Check out the Shout Your Abortion movement. 

I was a bit distracted to be honest, missing some of the content because I wanted to pay more attention to the audience's responses. Like, nobody booed like I wanted to stand up and do when Tony Abbott was mentioned, of course not, it's his town. People wriggled in their seats a bit though, it was hard to tell what the feeling was as it is definitely shifting. Anne didn't defend or criticise any politician too much or unfairly. She talked about both sides of government on merit and spoke fondly and honestly about Julia Gillard and her horrendous experiences as our first female PM, even mentioning that her speech in Parliament directed at Tony about sexism is still talked about globally to this day. 

My interest was piqued when discussion turned to childcare. I have three kids under five in daycare two days a week and it costs us an arm and a leg. It has meant that I could only return to work two days a week and as a result my career prospects and superannuation have suffered the most. Anne talked about the childcare rebate and the change in culture that has seen childcare places and their funding go from in the thousands to in the millions over the last decade or so. She talked about the Liberal government's push to privatise everything, including childcare and the impact this will have not only on cost for families, but on women, their agency, their place in the workforce and public life and children's learning.

Anne argued that she has always noticed that Australians have a particular kind of disdain for women without children - a distrust or judgement that she herself has suffered alongside women like Julia Gillard. She also said however, that on one hand we exalt the value of mothers, but then punish them by expecting they withdraw from life to care for their young children (and the aged too by the way). Anne has always advocated for childcare to be absorbed into the education system. In many countries this already happens (including Malta), making childcare, like primary and high school free, paid for by the taxes of the population to benefit everyone equally. It pushes the quality of the service to higher standards, ensures qualified providers and promotes access across the board. How awesome would it be if childcare was of excellent quality and free! The trouble is there is an attitude that is growing in Australia that public services are not an entitlement. I work in public health and I have heard it from staff and clinicians alike that the public get the service they pay for (in other words, if it's free it's crap), and use this idea to deny or give sub-par service. I find it concerning that people don't understand the importance of public service, in particular public health. I challenge them to consider the situation in countries like the US where people go bankrupt when faced with unexpected health crises or ordinary health events like childbirth, unless they have expensive health insurance that not everyone can access or afford. I am tempted to tell them that if they don't believe in public health, they should cut up their Medicare card immediately and go and work in a shoe shop! It's the same with education. I wholeheartedly agree with Anne's notion that childcare is an important aspect of a child's education. It's not baby sitting. My kids get the attention, activities, learning and specialised guidance that only a trained early childhood educator can provide. As much as I love and care for them, the daycare staff do it better in some respects and it enhances their development. It also benefits them to see me happy and working, living the same kind of life that my partner is entitled to and the family benefits financially as well. I send my kids to daycare so that I can work and have a break and a life, yes, but I also send them for the same reasons I will send them to school. They need it and it's good for them. That is why it is the norm now. The majority of children attend daycare because its importance has become incredibly obvious. In my childhood it wasn't as prevalent. 

In Australia we have seen years of cuts and neglect for public education. Private schools are given precedence without a shred of evidence that students perform any better, in fact the opposite is true. I was interested in the response of the demographic in Warringah last night given there are so many private schools in the area and while the public schools are fantastic, because they are supported by privileged communities (through corporate and small business sponsorship, no less) and do better than public schools in other parts of Sydney, they are still overshadowed by the prevalence of the private schools, particularly those marred by religious indoctrination, which in my opinion has no place in education or public life. But we know all this, surely, and the opposite is happening. When we privatise education and make it expensive and exclusive to access quality schools, we risk dumbing down the population and ending up with someone like Trump in charge - we're not far off. The same happens when we privatise public services. The quality diminishes when the goal is profit not service provision. Public service should be the benchmark for private industry to aspire to, not the other way around. Better still, we should encourage community style organisations and co-operatives that are relevant to the communities and people using them. I kept thinking to myself, I hope Jane Caro runs as an Independent and with her wealth of knowledge about and advocacy for public education, I hope she wins and makes changes in Warringah! I hope the audience remember that next time they vote.

Finally, I want to address a question by one of the audience members. An older man asked Anne what she believed the genesis of violence, particularly against women was. She'd talked about her knowledge of domestic violence and the reasons why she'd established Elsie, and mentioned the 61 women that have been killed this year already, 8 up on last year and only 40 odd weeks into the year. These are some very confronting numbers and there is no presser from the PM about this kind of terrorism. The audience member lamented about the prevalence of violent images in our media, film, television, video games and social media and how desensitised young people are, as though violence is a new phenomenon in Australia. I wanted to answer the question. I wanted to say that we live on a continent that was colonised violently and that same violence continues today. We have not faced that history properly as a country. Tokenistic government apologies achieve nothing when First Nations children are still being removed disproportionately from their families, at greater numbers than the first stolen generations and when child protection legislation is about to change to force adoptions within two years, with no provision for extended family to have any input and to make these rash decisions largely outside the courts. Add to that mix the establishment of a My Health Record with the necessity to opt out (I believe the cut off date has been extended to January 2019) and the risks FN people in particular face of being monitored and judged based on prior health experiences in child protection matters is terrifying. Tokenistic acknowledgements of country as was performed in passing at the beginning of the night are meaningless when there is not enough visibility of FN culture in our mainstream. And not just in this area. Throughout Sydney and Australia I'm sure, we use a lot of FN culture - place names, animal names, concepts without allowing leadership and acknowledging origin and ownership. We don't have treaties. It's blatant erasure, complicity and continuation of colonial violence.

As a country we still haven't reconciled our past. We haven't owned it properly and until we do, violence is an acceptable means to an end. We also need to address toxic masculinity, the notion that aggression, conquest, exploitation and destruction - human traits which are masculine and not necessarily exclusively present in men, that these traits are superior and desirable to feminine traits, again prevalent in both sexes that are deemed inferior: nurture, kindness, creativity, humanity, honesty, integrity.

I also wanted to point out that while it is a concern that people, particularly young people, become desensitised to violence, we can't allow violence to be cloaked in secrecy and remain in the shadows. The world changed when the Vietnam war was televised. It was no longer the words of surviving soldiers, journalists and historians we relied on to imagine the details, we could watch it with our own eyes on TV. Same now with the democratisation of information via social media. We get to witness wars, atrocities, violence, corrupt governments and militaries, and violent crime in real time on our phones. Yes it desensitises us to some extent, but what if it also allows us to confront it head on and nurture the desire to stop it. Check out the #ThisISMyLane hashtag on Twitter where doctors in the US are answering the NRAs appalling comments to stay out of the gun debate by sharing pictures of gun trauma they deal with daily. The images are confronting, but necessary.

It was a really valuable night and got me thinking about so many things. Sometimes we forget that the purpose of feminism is to change lenses and see/move through the world with a feminine gaze and that gaze is diverse. Feminism isn't about aspiring to conform to a masculine world, by becoming the tyrants we abhor. It's about deconstructing and dismantling the patriarchal, and in our case, colonial systems that oppress us and damage people regardless of their gendered bodies and sexuality. The questions we need to start asking within the feminist movement must include the intersections of race, class, sexuality, gender and lived experience. We need feminism to lead us away from white supremacy, the cost of which is not only our humanity and our planet, but our future.