Homelessness
Without Prejudice
I know the delight of having your own space and being able to be yourself, the essential self. In the International Charter of Human rights, every human being is entitled to that, to be safely housed.
Once they are, the difference in people is amazing. It gives them pride and a safe haven against the world and when you have happier people it has to be better for Society on the whole, Yes?
I know that it is too simplistic and probably an unpopular view to Mr and Mrs conservative who don't want their tax dollars being spent on people who they regard as " Losers ". But in every society there is going to be a certain percentage of the disaffected and the vulnerable, especially the elderly.
I have seen the elderly living in squalid conditions and being turfed out from private accommodation, leaving them no where to go. They treat the elderly far better in the UK and Ireland than they do here, they are more revered and contribute to Society more and have lots more fun, I am sure.
My Aunts certainly did, one especially who has just turned 90 and is hale and chipper and full of a curiosity at the world. When I remember her as a 16 year old and again the year I turned 30, I was always intimidated by her. My other Aunt, Auntie Pat was fat and jolly and a bit of a girl.
Auntie Bet was austere, not unlike Mrs Danvers In Rebecca, hair severe, schoolmarmish ways, and she used to look me up and down and I just knew I was never going to measure up. I was the bright one, but Jackie was the good girl.
I hung out with Auntie Pat.
Then the year after Lauren died Auntie bet rang to say that Uncle Ernest, her husband had died. He had stomach cancer and died within 6 weeks of diagnosis. She cried and said she knew I was going through my own heartache, but she said,
"Janette, I'm just so lonely"
So I rang my wealthier sibs and asked if there was something we could do for her and they brought her out from the UK for 3 months. And when she arrived in Melbourne my ex and I were going through the War of The Roses, Divorce from Hell.
She didn't complain though as we sat on the floor as all the furniture was gone. We just laughed and made the best of it. Aunt Bet was old school and had been through the real war and had no fear. It was sad for her, missing her husband of 50 years, but brave. She had never been on a plane in her life and flew half way around the world at 70, her first flight and certainly not her last.
She spent some time with my exes Mum and Dad, as her and My old Mother In Law were firm friends and still are. She came back to us and we said goodbyes and she always shakes and cries and says she will never see me again and she always does.
She was wonderful company, love personified and down to earth Yorkshireness mixing with her new found widowhood. Auntie Pat was still alive then and she and Auntie Bet formed a good friendship rather than rivalry any more.
Auntie Pat was outrageous, the classic Auntie Mame, figure, gorgeous black curly hair and black wicked eyes just like my Grandma, Lucy. I am sure there had to have been a bit of the gypsy thrown into the gene pool somewhere in the past, with those black eyes and curls. And one of my Grand mas had been blessed with the power of second sight, a mystic or a witch, depending on your point of view.
I discovered I was quite psychic too and often times it scared me to death, so spookily accurate some of the things could be. Laced heavily with womens intuition and being a Mother to many.
There's not too many surprises in Human behaviour and we can all be easily predictable. But sometimes and it's only a tiny bit, I can see a flash of something or just "know" something. And it's unpredictable and comes either when I am emotional or tipsy, or both. I have predicted babies and weddings and engagements, affairs, deaths, (That is usually not good and just consists of a general unease)
Animals are very psychic too, usually or just instinctive. I know when Kyle was locked up, Bonnie kept whining and running in and out of my unit, the night before. Whenever there is the slightest hint of something about to happen, the dogs always picked up on it and started acting "weird".
Kayko our Husky has just come out of an 8 week depression over Bonnie dying. She knew something was wrong and tailed Bonnie for days before she died. Nudging her in the end when Bonnie collapsed on the concrete, as if to say,'Get up, come on, lets's go play"
Her devotion to her lost playmate was extreme and heart felt and we mourned with her. In the end we let her work it out for herself and she did and now she bounds around the yard like the demented eternal pup she is.
It was hard to tell when she was in full mourning as she was already slothful and just lay around all the time, anyway. The boys exercised her daily and we all made a big fuss of her but still she lay prone as soon as we left her alone. She just needed time, just like us humans I guess, there are times in our life when we just need time.
But being able to hide yourself away in your own place when you want to shut out the world from it's senselessness or cruelties is the best feeling in the world. The very epitome of safety, and the first rung of the ladder of Maslows Heirarchy of needs.
God, I would so love to get to the top of that pyramid, a self actualised Human Being, having no care for the opinion of others, so absorbed in their own happiness they have no time for whingers or complainers and don't judge them either. I would love to be like that.
I wonder how many people ever are? I just looked it up on Google, One percent or less than, so that leaves most of us as just "normal". And that's a good thing but can't be reached unless all our physical and physiological needs have been met, food, shelter self esteem, belonginess, intimate relations and then Self Actualisation, "Reaching your full potential"
We all aspire to that.
So back to homelessness I have seen the real stuff, the real homeless and it is not a life you would want to be living. I remember watching a documentary on the work, one man was doing with the homeless in Sydney. A simple Salvation Army worker, and he was the most amazing man. He was down to earth and a realist but the miracles he could work with some of them were gob smacking to watch.
My wealthy businessman brother in law watching it and me joining him. He loved it. he wanted to help and said he would pledge $500,000.00 if he felt it was going to the homeless. We had watched the documentary from start to finish and he had taped it so we watched it again.
It was confronting and gritty and there were failures, but over and above anything else was the successes of men, mostly, that were given their own place, affordable and theirs for life. they couldn't be thrown out. And the difference in self esteem of people who were properly housed had to be seen to be believed.
Not even families can provide permanent housing for the disaffected but this man and the funding by the private sector, men like my Brother In Law, was so appreciated. The cause not a popular one as there were no cute kids or appealing babies in their campaign. Just down and outers you would think, But it wasn't so.
Once they had an abode all of them kept them spotless and decorated. Proud of their places and there were so few and so many people, homeless. But the wins were wins and that made up for the losses. He did good work this man.
And I had wrongly assumed my brother in law would not be interested in that type of show in the first place but it was his pick. He having reached the elder statesman of man's journey through life, and he wanted to practically help others.
I have been homeless as have girlfriends and friends and male friends and kids and babies. I have known how that feels as have many. And when you are given the keys to your own place that you know is yours, there is no better feeling. your sanctuary, your haven, the place where you feel safe and comforted. Without fear.
No better feeling in the world and because we , me and my girls have all been homeless at some stage or another we want others to have a safe place as well. Some like ever in human nature don't want help but the true souls follow us and do get housed. we have done so many now and we don't go around advertising it but just do it as quickly as we can.
It's easy when you know how and it comes down to how hard you are prepared to fight. And those successes urge us on even when we get exhausted and fed up, one of us will pick up the ball till we are all happy. It comes down to working towards a common goal and being prepared to roll up your sleeves.
There's no moving fairy on moving days, just shoulders to the grindstone and sheer grunt work but the delight in peoples eyes is worth it as are their heartfelt thanks. Down the track we watch to make sure they are fine and happy and they always are, always.
Alena has probably housed the most, she is like a walking encyclopedia for information on help and is glad to give of her time and expertise. She has set so many people on their feet, Debbie too, Mara, Yvette, me, Kyle, the 2nd generation coming along now and giving back.
No Gucci watch or Mercedes can ever make you feel as good as getting someone into their own haven and making sure it stays safe, especially if kids are involved. we have all had to face many a violent man or woman not happy with what they see as our "interference".
Its usually women with kids we help, or single dads, pregnant females and older people. The neediest first. I don't even know when it began. My ex husband and I used to take in kids and people down on their luck. He usually would end up employing them for shit wages but that was him.
He once said to me f he ever ran a milk bar he would just short change people all the time and make money that way. He loved money, he worshipped at the altar of dollar notes, and would proudly display fat rolls of cash from his home safe.
Show it and put it back, we never ever got to see any of it of course. He was a miserly man in many ways and overly generous in others. If he ate a meal, he had enjoyed it, I did not need to ask his opinion of it. The girls were not to be praised for good things as they might get "big headed", they were expected to do as they were told and shut up the rest of the time.
I always felt like we were creeping around to not disturb the sleeping giant. It was a game we soon got used to and realised it was our lot in life at that time. We had tried to outsmart him so many times, it was becoming monotonous and desperate.
He wasn't normal. As simple as that, we knew it, he didn't. And try to outsmart a cunning desperate man who was physically threatening was no picnic. He liked the control he thought he had over us, the games and the alliances he tried to form. He had no bother telling the girls anything that he thought of about me, he was untrustworthy, a notorious gossip, loved to hurt people, physically and emotionally.
He was also as cunning as a shit house rat (one of his terms ), disparaged us, threatened us and still we came out smiling. We had each other, once again, when one would fall down, the others would pick her up. he only had him. he often said he could hold his birthday party in a telephone box, so unpopular he was.
He was just a frigging nightmare most of the time. Loud, and aggressive, hated everyone, everyone was an idiot, dick head, loser, all except him, he alone had no faults and loved to tell me I was 99.9 percent wrong. My family was fucked, his family was fucked, his lists went on and on.
He like to rant at us and was a complete control freak and darkly jealous of me. he loved me, I was everything he was not. Educated, pampered, loved and loving and sexy once I found out what it was all about and I was a virginal girl of 16 when I first met him.
It took us ages to go out together, but I knew he was attracted to me and he was a "bad Boy", how delicious for s "good girl". He teased me unmercifully about my accent and snobby ways and I thought he was rude, crude and too black looking. Black hair, bushy black eyebrows and an Abe Lincoln beard, how revolting.
I realised after I was married and had Deb what he was really like and I still somehow saw it as a challenge to get him to like or love me and I knew he did but he was funny about it all. he hated affection, hated it. Roughly pushing me away if I went to kiss my new husband, he loathed it, even being touched like any normal human would want to be touched.
He would only hold my hand if I was pregnant and likely to tumble over and then drop it straight away as if it was dirty. He talked openly of his other girlfriends he had and they were all still madly in love with him. He had done nothing wrong he was the broken hearted one.
Right!
To be continued.....
Love Janette
I know the delight of having your own space and being able to be yourself, the essential self. In the International Charter of Human rights, every human being is entitled to that, to be safely housed.
Once they are, the difference in people is amazing. It gives them pride and a safe haven against the world and when you have happier people it has to be better for Society on the whole, Yes?
I know that it is too simplistic and probably an unpopular view to Mr and Mrs conservative who don't want their tax dollars being spent on people who they regard as " Losers ". But in every society there is going to be a certain percentage of the disaffected and the vulnerable, especially the elderly.
I have seen the elderly living in squalid conditions and being turfed out from private accommodation, leaving them no where to go. They treat the elderly far better in the UK and Ireland than they do here, they are more revered and contribute to Society more and have lots more fun, I am sure.
My Aunts certainly did, one especially who has just turned 90 and is hale and chipper and full of a curiosity at the world. When I remember her as a 16 year old and again the year I turned 30, I was always intimidated by her. My other Aunt, Auntie Pat was fat and jolly and a bit of a girl.
Auntie Bet was austere, not unlike Mrs Danvers In Rebecca, hair severe, schoolmarmish ways, and she used to look me up and down and I just knew I was never going to measure up. I was the bright one, but Jackie was the good girl.
I hung out with Auntie Pat.
Then the year after Lauren died Auntie bet rang to say that Uncle Ernest, her husband had died. He had stomach cancer and died within 6 weeks of diagnosis. She cried and said she knew I was going through my own heartache, but she said,
"Janette, I'm just so lonely"
So I rang my wealthier sibs and asked if there was something we could do for her and they brought her out from the UK for 3 months. And when she arrived in Melbourne my ex and I were going through the War of The Roses, Divorce from Hell.
She didn't complain though as we sat on the floor as all the furniture was gone. We just laughed and made the best of it. Aunt Bet was old school and had been through the real war and had no fear. It was sad for her, missing her husband of 50 years, but brave. She had never been on a plane in her life and flew half way around the world at 70, her first flight and certainly not her last.
She spent some time with my exes Mum and Dad, as her and My old Mother In Law were firm friends and still are. She came back to us and we said goodbyes and she always shakes and cries and says she will never see me again and she always does.
She was wonderful company, love personified and down to earth Yorkshireness mixing with her new found widowhood. Auntie Pat was still alive then and she and Auntie Bet formed a good friendship rather than rivalry any more.
Auntie Pat was outrageous, the classic Auntie Mame, figure, gorgeous black curly hair and black wicked eyes just like my Grandma, Lucy. I am sure there had to have been a bit of the gypsy thrown into the gene pool somewhere in the past, with those black eyes and curls. And one of my Grand mas had been blessed with the power of second sight, a mystic or a witch, depending on your point of view.
I discovered I was quite psychic too and often times it scared me to death, so spookily accurate some of the things could be. Laced heavily with womens intuition and being a Mother to many.
There's not too many surprises in Human behaviour and we can all be easily predictable. But sometimes and it's only a tiny bit, I can see a flash of something or just "know" something. And it's unpredictable and comes either when I am emotional or tipsy, or both. I have predicted babies and weddings and engagements, affairs, deaths, (That is usually not good and just consists of a general unease)
Animals are very psychic too, usually or just instinctive. I know when Kyle was locked up, Bonnie kept whining and running in and out of my unit, the night before. Whenever there is the slightest hint of something about to happen, the dogs always picked up on it and started acting "weird".
Kayko our Husky has just come out of an 8 week depression over Bonnie dying. She knew something was wrong and tailed Bonnie for days before she died. Nudging her in the end when Bonnie collapsed on the concrete, as if to say,'Get up, come on, lets's go play"
Her devotion to her lost playmate was extreme and heart felt and we mourned with her. In the end we let her work it out for herself and she did and now she bounds around the yard like the demented eternal pup she is.
It was hard to tell when she was in full mourning as she was already slothful and just lay around all the time, anyway. The boys exercised her daily and we all made a big fuss of her but still she lay prone as soon as we left her alone. She just needed time, just like us humans I guess, there are times in our life when we just need time.
But being able to hide yourself away in your own place when you want to shut out the world from it's senselessness or cruelties is the best feeling in the world. The very epitome of safety, and the first rung of the ladder of Maslows Heirarchy of needs.
God, I would so love to get to the top of that pyramid, a self actualised Human Being, having no care for the opinion of others, so absorbed in their own happiness they have no time for whingers or complainers and don't judge them either. I would love to be like that.
I wonder how many people ever are? I just looked it up on Google, One percent or less than, so that leaves most of us as just "normal". And that's a good thing but can't be reached unless all our physical and physiological needs have been met, food, shelter self esteem, belonginess, intimate relations and then Self Actualisation, "Reaching your full potential"
We all aspire to that.
So back to homelessness I have seen the real stuff, the real homeless and it is not a life you would want to be living. I remember watching a documentary on the work, one man was doing with the homeless in Sydney. A simple Salvation Army worker, and he was the most amazing man. He was down to earth and a realist but the miracles he could work with some of them were gob smacking to watch.
My wealthy businessman brother in law watching it and me joining him. He loved it. he wanted to help and said he would pledge $500,000.00 if he felt it was going to the homeless. We had watched the documentary from start to finish and he had taped it so we watched it again.
It was confronting and gritty and there were failures, but over and above anything else was the successes of men, mostly, that were given their own place, affordable and theirs for life. they couldn't be thrown out. And the difference in self esteem of people who were properly housed had to be seen to be believed.
Not even families can provide permanent housing for the disaffected but this man and the funding by the private sector, men like my Brother In Law, was so appreciated. The cause not a popular one as there were no cute kids or appealing babies in their campaign. Just down and outers you would think, But it wasn't so.
Once they had an abode all of them kept them spotless and decorated. Proud of their places and there were so few and so many people, homeless. But the wins were wins and that made up for the losses. He did good work this man.
And I had wrongly assumed my brother in law would not be interested in that type of show in the first place but it was his pick. He having reached the elder statesman of man's journey through life, and he wanted to practically help others.
I have been homeless as have girlfriends and friends and male friends and kids and babies. I have known how that feels as have many. And when you are given the keys to your own place that you know is yours, there is no better feeling. your sanctuary, your haven, the place where you feel safe and comforted. Without fear.
No better feeling in the world and because we , me and my girls have all been homeless at some stage or another we want others to have a safe place as well. Some like ever in human nature don't want help but the true souls follow us and do get housed. we have done so many now and we don't go around advertising it but just do it as quickly as we can.
It's easy when you know how and it comes down to how hard you are prepared to fight. And those successes urge us on even when we get exhausted and fed up, one of us will pick up the ball till we are all happy. It comes down to working towards a common goal and being prepared to roll up your sleeves.
There's no moving fairy on moving days, just shoulders to the grindstone and sheer grunt work but the delight in peoples eyes is worth it as are their heartfelt thanks. Down the track we watch to make sure they are fine and happy and they always are, always.
Alena has probably housed the most, she is like a walking encyclopedia for information on help and is glad to give of her time and expertise. She has set so many people on their feet, Debbie too, Mara, Yvette, me, Kyle, the 2nd generation coming along now and giving back.
No Gucci watch or Mercedes can ever make you feel as good as getting someone into their own haven and making sure it stays safe, especially if kids are involved. we have all had to face many a violent man or woman not happy with what they see as our "interference".
Its usually women with kids we help, or single dads, pregnant females and older people. The neediest first. I don't even know when it began. My ex husband and I used to take in kids and people down on their luck. He usually would end up employing them for shit wages but that was him.
He once said to me f he ever ran a milk bar he would just short change people all the time and make money that way. He loved money, he worshipped at the altar of dollar notes, and would proudly display fat rolls of cash from his home safe.
Show it and put it back, we never ever got to see any of it of course. He was a miserly man in many ways and overly generous in others. If he ate a meal, he had enjoyed it, I did not need to ask his opinion of it. The girls were not to be praised for good things as they might get "big headed", they were expected to do as they were told and shut up the rest of the time.
I always felt like we were creeping around to not disturb the sleeping giant. It was a game we soon got used to and realised it was our lot in life at that time. We had tried to outsmart him so many times, it was becoming monotonous and desperate.
He wasn't normal. As simple as that, we knew it, he didn't. And try to outsmart a cunning desperate man who was physically threatening was no picnic. He liked the control he thought he had over us, the games and the alliances he tried to form. He had no bother telling the girls anything that he thought of about me, he was untrustworthy, a notorious gossip, loved to hurt people, physically and emotionally.
He was also as cunning as a shit house rat (one of his terms ), disparaged us, threatened us and still we came out smiling. We had each other, once again, when one would fall down, the others would pick her up. he only had him. he often said he could hold his birthday party in a telephone box, so unpopular he was.
He was just a frigging nightmare most of the time. Loud, and aggressive, hated everyone, everyone was an idiot, dick head, loser, all except him, he alone had no faults and loved to tell me I was 99.9 percent wrong. My family was fucked, his family was fucked, his lists went on and on.
He like to rant at us and was a complete control freak and darkly jealous of me. he loved me, I was everything he was not. Educated, pampered, loved and loving and sexy once I found out what it was all about and I was a virginal girl of 16 when I first met him.
It took us ages to go out together, but I knew he was attracted to me and he was a "bad Boy", how delicious for s "good girl". He teased me unmercifully about my accent and snobby ways and I thought he was rude, crude and too black looking. Black hair, bushy black eyebrows and an Abe Lincoln beard, how revolting.
I realised after I was married and had Deb what he was really like and I still somehow saw it as a challenge to get him to like or love me and I knew he did but he was funny about it all. he hated affection, hated it. Roughly pushing me away if I went to kiss my new husband, he loathed it, even being touched like any normal human would want to be touched.
He would only hold my hand if I was pregnant and likely to tumble over and then drop it straight away as if it was dirty. He talked openly of his other girlfriends he had and they were all still madly in love with him. He had done nothing wrong he was the broken hearted one.
Right!
To be continued.....
Love Janette
