There’s a common assumption amongst society that homeless people have brought it on themselves — they must be a poor tenant, they must drink, they must do drugs, or have done something wrong.
Unfortunately for so many, this is far from the truth. For me, the past few months have revealed a hell I had no idea existed. I’m proud to say that I have never assumed the worst of those impacted by homelessness. However, I was very naïve not to realise that anyone could experience homelessness — that hell — at any time.
Until recently, I had always felt safe and secure when it came to providing a roof over my children’s heads. I have always been able to secure a property. I have always maintained and kept a clean and tidy home — and I have lived in our current rental property for over seven years.
But in June this year, I received a 90-day no grounds termination. Me, and my three children, have until September to find a new home.
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Facing homelessness
Why did we receive a no grounds termination? I have no idea**.
I can only assume it was due to the repairs I had requested. The repairs I had once paid for myself and decided I shouldn’t have to continue to wear the costs. All reasonable repairs — broken toilets, leaking showers… nothing crazy.
In fact, we had completely renovated and installed a hydrotherapy spa for Monroe, my daughter, at our own cost. The spa helped manage her aggravated eczema and solar urticaria, reliving the symptoms. The owner convincing us, and assuring us that we would not be evicted, and in fact, would have the option to purchase the house in the future.
The landlord-tenant power shift
When our roof kept leaking, the owner asked us to fundraise to cover the cost of repairs. I declined. And from there on, the relationship shifted. Several days after the repairs were finally done to the shower, we received an eviction notice. It’s not hard to join the dots.
Nevertheless, I chose to see it as a positive. I had wanted to move for so long to be closer to the constant therapy appointments. I was sick of the drama in our neighbourhood and was looking forward to a fresh start — but I had previously felt stuck, because of the spa investment and need for Monroe. I was also nervous at the cost of rentals, but confident the universe would provide.
I began searching and noticed very limited rentals available, and even less that would suit our needs. We need a yard for our therapy equipment, enough space for three autistic children to have their own space to diffuse meltdowns culture, pets allowed, and a fenced yard for a toddler that runs away. I applied for what I could. Confident that three months was plenty of time to find a suitable house.
Unhoused: the stark reality
I thought, as a prospective tenant and my past long-term tenancy, that I would stand out positively. How wrong I was. With every inspection I was shocked to see 30-50 other people also viewing. This was certainly a different rental market to those I’d previously experienced. Application after application, I was constantly rejected.
As our eviction date crept closer, I asked the real estate for an extension. They scolded me and reluctantly offered an extra 14 days. I happily accepted, still confident we’d get our house. But more rejections came, and I grew scared. I reached out again and they extended another 14 days, with the warning they’d take action if I didn’t vacate before the final date offered.
Drastic measures
I have continually applied and have only been met with rejection. I reached out to available services, including the Department of Housing. Because we are a high-needs family — the children’s needs, plus my own health issues ¬—we meet the ‘urgent list’ requirements.
The wait time on that?
Two to four years. That is correct. It is two to four years before community services can secure accommodation for myself and my babies. Another agency told me there’s nothing they can do until the day we are ‘homeless’. From there, they can put us in a motel for two nights.
Bleak options
We now have 10 days until we are officially homeless. We will move between friends and families lounges and stay in motels. When there are availabilities that is. Today we placed most of our belongings in storage and I will spend the next few days attending house inspections and packing the last of our things, while attempting to do a bond clean and trying to keep the children entertained.
I don’t think there’s a lower feeling than standing in your children’s rooms and placing their favourite things in a box, unsure of when they’ll see them again. Or looking in their eyes, unable to comfort their fears about having no home or being able to reassure them it’s only temporary.
My story isn’t rare. I reached out to families struggling in our area. The number of homeless families is disturbing. Single mums, Single dads, married families, couples without children. All walks of life living in cars, motels, friend’s places… All scared. All broken. All unsure of what to do. And all incredibly embarrassed that this is now their reality. Now judged by society as being ‘irresponsible’.
The bigger issue
One person I spoke with has applied between 100-150 times with no success. Many have been enduring this battle for over a year. The scary part for this area is the road works coming next year. That means less rentals for locals, as the workers will secure accommodation.
What I can’t figure out is why no one is speaking about this. I can’t work out why the local politicians aren’t doing more. We’re all out here moving heaven and hell to fight a virus with a survival rate of 99.98% for those aged 20-49, while thousands of families can’t secure basic accommodation.
Why?
Australia is one of the world’s wealthiest nations yet has the OECD’s third highest homeless rate, with NSW being the state with the highest growth in homelessness.
The Australian Bureau of Statistics counts nearly 117,000 Australians in some form of homelessness, with more than an estimated 7,000 living on the streets.
Gerry Georgatos, who works at poverty’s coalfaces, would argue that homelessness is in excess of 300,000 Australians and closer to 15,000 sleeping on the streets. Nearly one-fifth of Australia’s homeless are children aged 12 years and under. If that doesn’t terrify you, it should.
It could be you, it could be me
If you’re renting, you are simply one eviction from having nowhere to go. I don’t know the answers but I know someone needs to start talking about this. Someone needs to stand up and help the innocent families wondering where they’ll sleep tonight. I’m thankful that we have a car to sleep in. I’m thankful I have funds for now to get a motel. I’m thankful I have friends and family with a lounge for us to sleep on… but this can’t go on forever. In the meantime I’ll hold my babies close while we soak up the last few days we have our own space. I’ll keep trying, and I’ll keep praying that someone out there can see we are a good family, trying to do the right thing. For everyone facing this battle, I see you. Please don’t feel embarrassed, please don’t give up. Share your story. Speak your truth. Maybe if we scream loud enough, someone will listen.
Update:
After seven months of homelessness we now have a home – almost 12 months since we’ve first signed the lease and still recovering from the ordeal. I estimate we spent well over $18,000 whilst homeless, often paying between $1000-1500 per week in motel fees. The mental toll has been harder than I ever imagined when I first wrote this article. That woman still had faith. I very much lost who I was during that period. I became a shell, just moving through the motions. Until you experience homelessness, you just can not imagine the complete and utter exhaustion you feel. It’s very easy to see how that experience could lead to people making poor choices. and never recovering. Towards the end of our journey I became very suicidal. I’m grateful I somehow found the strength to survive, but I feel sad knowing someone else may not find that strength. I hope these stories get heard
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