Work and Occupations

I soon jumped over to my new team, composed of three fine individuals. Glen was a skinny man with experience working in Partners in Recovery—Mental Health (PHaMS) out of the country and had previously been an advocate as a pioneer of the Hearing Voices Movement. Daniel was a fine young man, working four days per week. He was well travelled, he was in his last year studying social work at the university and had a good grasp of the social determinants of health. Ruth was a dark woman from Kenya who was previously a personal trainer, and full of enthusiasm. Unfortunately, they had been smashed with work, and the early parts of the Connector Program had meant a considerable waiting list. 

 

The program was structured through one-on-one support, helping in all areas of the participants’ lives. I did a presentation of all the things that were expected of me in the role and quickly learned the structure of my administrative requirements. Still heavy in the swing of COVID-19, I was given a caseload of 10 to start with. 

 

I got to meet my participants on the first or second day. Some answered the phone, and I went through my spill, but many did not. We had a long waiting list, so it was not the end of the world if people did not want to engage. So, I worked out who on my list needed support and who had been told by someone else they should be on the program. Before long, I had a small group of participants requiring regular support. Some needed help with housing, and some needed someone to talk to. Regardless, I was seasoned with talking on the phone by now, and the days seemed to go by so quickly. I was on the phone most of the day and spent the rest of the day researching ways to improve various areas of their lives. Knowing things would be busy when we returned face-to-face, Glen was concerned that I was biting off more than I could chew. He was worried that I was trying to support too many participants. 

 

We eventually did return to face-to-face, which meant an hour-and-a bit of commute into the Grose Street Office in Parramatta. I visited participants face-to-face at their homes around Western Sydney, which meant a lot of driving. The only real expectation of being in Parramatta was the Thursday morning walking group, which was great. Everybody came for their coffee. Some walked. Some just talked. But we soon had an excellent atmosphere. 

 

Everything was going smoothly. Daniel and I decided that we would share our first visits. So, one week, we went around town meeting all my participants, while the succeeding week, I spent time meeting his participants. We thought this was a good approach, as it would mean that if one of us was sick or on a holiday, they could be supported by the other. We got to know each other in these weeks, and many of the participants we met during this period became highly involved and engaged in the program. 

 

One visit was entertaining. I did a lot of work on the phone with John, including getting him 'Emergency Payments' through the Salvation Army when he moved into his new house by having a three-way conversation over the phone. So, I knew a lot about John, and he knew a lot about me, but I had yet to see what he looked like. 

 

I met him at the 7-Eleven in Paramatta and asked a man if he was John. He said, 'Yes, I'm John.' So, I went on and bought him a cup of coffee. We then continued chatting about everything we had been working on over the phone and talked about Adelaide. John spent most of his life in Adelaide, but this ‘John’ had no idea about anything to do with Adelaide. He continued but became so disturbed by the conversation that he left us. Realising this was not the 'real John,' we returned to the 7-Eleven, where a man came running up to me and shook my hand. It was great to finally meet John, and this was the start of an enjoyable work relationship with him. 

 

As the program progressed, I decided to make the most of the big project budget left over from pandemic. Because we did not spend any funding during this period, we had a lot to spend. It would be wasted in the following year if we did not spend it, so I proposed a more in-depth program for the team. Initially, they were skeptical and thought it would take away from the individualised work, but I convinced them that it could work. So, they jumped on board, and the Connector Program came to life.

 

Mondays became guest speaker days. This was an opportunity to talk to Peer Work and Mental Health leaders. I got guest speakers like Maree Abunga from Cameroon, my mate and Peer Work leader Ryan D'Lima, the earlier Mental Health Advocate of the Year Matthew Jackman, global peer work leadership pioneer Marie O'Hagan, Australian Peer Work leader Fay Jackson, and lots more. Although the numbers and enthusiasm dwindled when I interviewed my heroes, Glenda Webb and Charlene Sunkel, we gave many opportunities for our participants to hear from, meet, and ask questions of some of the leaders in the mental health field. While I led most of the sessions, sometimes my peers took over, preparing and sharing the questions with the leaders before doing the question and answer (Q&A) sessions. 

 

Tuesdays were our outing days. This allowed our participants to explore places around Sydney, like The Three Sisters, Cockatoo Island, the Botanical Gardens, the museum, Manly Beach, Fagan Park, Taronga, The Rocks, and many more. When we went to Cockatoo Island, we had a big picnic for our new worker Fatima's birthday and explored the historical navy site. When we went to Manly Beach, we caught the train to Circular Quay, the ferry across to Manly, and had delightful fish and chips on the beach. We then split into two groups: one group walking along the beach and foreshore, and the other through Manly's mall and op shops. These days were full of fun and adventure and gave a fantastic opportunity for the participants to get to know us and each other. For many, even having an ice cream, a picnic, or other luxuries our budget could afford, was a novel experience for them and gave them a sense of connection to others. 

 

We also did fun activities such as barefoot bowling and 10-pin bowling that gave the participants other outlets to enjoy themselves. Costs were minimal, as they were mostly covered in One Door's budget, other than the costs for the trains and buses to get there. There were often reduced prices because Daniel had often bargained with the service providers to ensure no or little cost. Daniel did an excellent job preparing for these outings and ensuring these days were fun, well organised, and despite being informal, filled with joy, so everybody could get something out of them. These were fun days but also educational for the participants. 

 

Wednesday was BBQ Day. Initially, we had BBQs at Bungarribee before moving them to Blacktown Showground. Whilst the first group felt different enthusiasm than I did when I tried to encourage them to participate in games like cricket, we had a stable group of participants turn up each Wednesday when we transferred the group to the Blacktown Showground. We began playing card games that then transformed into longer walks around the Showground. Glen or I would quickly stop at Aldi on the way to the picnic to ensure there was enough food for everyone. At the picnic ground, everyone seemed to enjoy each other's company. For many, the decent meal was their most significant meal of the week, possibly even their only meal beyond a few boiled potatoes and eggs. Unfortunately, many were struggling with severe mental health challenges, so it was often difficult to give them enough motivation to cook a healthy meal.

 

Thursday was a chance for the participants to meet up in Parramatta Park for coffee, milkshake, or drink of their choice. Whilst the group's purpose was initially to go for a walk around the park, it became more of a chance to chat and get to know each other. Whilst some participants chose to walk around Parramatta Park, most preferred to exercise their conversation skills. This group climaxed with about 16 participants at one point, when two tables were not enough for everybody together without spilling out into the main part of the café. At one point, almost the whole café was full of One Door participants. By the end of the group, the numbers slowly dwindled, and there was barely any participant remaining. 

 

As the Thursday morning group dwindled, we found that many people could not make a face-to-face group meet-ups due to a range of issues. One was social anxiety, in which people lacked the confidence and social skills to make face-to-face groups beneficial. Other people had agoraphobia and found it difficult to venture out of their homes. Others were still in lockdown mode and had not regained the confidence to venture into the community again. They had lost their confidence. We decided to start running online groups to reach these people. 

 

Initially, the group thrived. The first two groups brought many of Daniel's participants online, sharing in different ways. We tried to get one of Daniel's participants to share her story. However, this was rather long and scared some other participants away from the online groups. Finally, after a few months, there were two regulars, Sharon, and Bill. 

 

Sharon was experiencing agoraphobia and had rarely ventured out of her home in 20 years. We had gone out to visit her at home, but she felt more confident online. Bill had turned up to several of our groups but struggled with social anxiety. We all connected with both, so the online groups were extremely enjoyable. We played Kahoot! most of the time and loved these trivia sessions. Sometimes it ventured into other online games, but there was a lot of laughter regardless of what game we played. Whilst it was hard to justify funding for two people, the social connection it gave them was worth every penny One Door was investing in them. Right up until our last session, Bill gave us his last drum roll. It never seemed to matter who won or lost. It seemed like we were all winners.

 

Friday was our activity day. I would come into the office after seeing one of my participants and often arrive at Fatima with one of the participants doing art with one of the workers. As a few more participants would come, I would take them down to the shopping centre to get the ingredients for lunch. I would then get a production line of participants chopping, cutting, mixing, grating, peeling, and preparing the ingredients. Finally, a whole group of participants would help me prepare and cook a delicious lunch before enjoying eating it together in the courtyard. The participants would often stay for a few hours, enjoying each other's company, before we finished up for the weekend, or I went to another participant.

 

While I prioritised the program that we had created and the group activities, I also worked with 15 other participants. I helped them with housing applications, NDIS applications, going for a walk to have a break from their daily routines, or just talking to them on the phone if needed. 

 

Zoe (pronounced Zo) was one of the participants who took full advantage of the program. She struggled with anxiety and depression most of her life, and her mobility was limited. She did not know why walking was getting more challenging, but her doctor, Doctor Nikki, saw a brochure of Connector and thought it might be a good thing for her to try. 

 

Zoe was not happy with her initial worker, Ruth, so she asked if I could take over as her worker. I met her at one of the Parramatta Park walking Thursday mornings when Ruth picked her up from Seven Hills, and we hit it off straight away. Soon, I was conducting capacity-building workshops with her on gut health before a regular Friday morning spot opened. Zoe became involved in the outings, came to nearly every BBQ, and tried to make as many Friday activity days as possible. So, she was making the most of the program. 

 

Our Friday morning sessions were regular at 9:30 a.m. at Seven Hills Shopping Centre. I would arrive early to get some of my other work done and buy her coffee on her arrival. Sometimes I bought her breakfast, as that was a luxury she could not afford. We did everything in these sessions, including her housing application, her NDIS application, a functional assessment for the NDIS, finding her a trauma counsellor who changed her life, and even spending a few weeks preparing a submission to the Deputy Housing Minister, who was going to be one of our guest speakers. Zoe found herself in her program. On the last Friday Activity Day, I caught Zoe saying, 'This is my family.' Zoe has since stayed friends and continuously told me that through One Door, 'she found her tribe.' 

 

John was sometimes a loose cannon, but I got to know him well throughout the COVID time. John had been through several foster homes throughout his life and never got to know his family. When I first contacted him when I first came on board with Connector, he had just moved into his first home after being homeless since arriving in Sydney. He had moved across from Adelaide to start a new life. He had nothing except a fridge and a few nick-knacks, so I helped him get a few appliances through the Salvation Army's 'Emergency Fund.'

 

After our adventurous meeting, I helped him move into a boarding house in Guildford. As he was new to the area, I would walk around the neighbourhood with him to help him feel safer in his community. John had borderline personality disorder from all the trauma and neglect he had experienced in his life. He would often talk, and I would listen. He often said, 'Not many people get me, but you really get me.'

 

Unfortunately, I could not be there twice for John when he did need me. The first time he had had an altercation, he had shown up at the Grose Street Office, hoping I would be there. Unfortunately, I was not there, and he had called the police, who took him to Cumberland Hospital. The second time, he had a bit of a psychotic episode and desperately needed to talk to me. I wanted to meet him halfway. Unfortunately, it had been raining for weeks, and I was working from home because I was flooded in. There was no way for me to go anywhere because the train line and the roads were blocked. John spent about six weeks in the hospital then and was fortunate to get released. 

 

I visited him two or three times per week whilst he was in the hospital. By the time of his release, John had had enough of Sydney and hoped to head home to Adelaide. However, he wanted to avoid returning to the Guildford guesthouse because he felt unsafe and needed somewhere else in Sydney to stay. He promised me he had somewhere to stay in Adelaide, so I spent weeks helping him get his birth certificate. This was challenging because we needed somewhere to send it, but eventually, we got it. I then helped John organise a flight home to his homeland and helped him get on the plane. I almost cried when he finally got on the plane because we had been on quite the journey together. 

 

Jeff was a Sri Lankan-born web developer who had been struggling with bipolar disorder for many years. He had a good sense of humour, and we had much in common. We had a range of adventures together, including playing badminton, having boxing sessions, grabbing our regular coffee at McDonald’s, going to the Lindt factory, exploring a Sri Lankan supermarket, and going on a few random drives. Sometimes we would work on Centrelink applications, but most of the time, we would chat about random things. We would talk a little bit about mental health, a little bit about his family situations, and a little bit about his experiences in the tech world.

 

Jeff had had some difficult experiences with his bipolar disorder, including trying to top himself with a tie when he was at St. John of God. At times, Jess called me in crisis; however, because of his history with the public and private mental health systems, I had to try other approaches when he was suicidal. He did not need me to call an ambulance, but I often suggested ideas like text crisis lines. This would allow Jeff to think about his responses instead of just reacting. He would have called me three or four times in an emergency, and we always found an alternative solution. The reality is that I like Jeff, and although he had a pretty shitty father, he was a rather good bloke. 

 

Donna was an agoraphobic who had barely been out of her home for the last 20 years. She was morbidly obese but did her best to lose weight and perform a regular workout routine. I began working with Donna during COVID over the phone and continued working with her until my last day at One Door. In our time together, I only visited her twice; the rest were our weekly one-hour conversations over the phone. 

 

The first time I visited her at her home, her daughter was there with her support worker and her challenged grandchildren. As I knew Donna loved affirmations, we took turns for each person in the room to find an affirmation on their phone or computer, one they had already thought of themselves. I collaborated on all these affirmations in a presentation that is very dear to me. I later gave Donna a book by Donna Hay, famous for writing amazing affirmations. Donna read it cover to cover, and this was often one of many discussion points in our chats. Donna spoke sternly to the executive when I lost my position at One Door because our sessions made a big difference in her life.   

 

Like John, Sribimo was a troubled participant who was a bit of a pest to some of the other programs. To me, he was an absolute gentleman. Daniel and I visited him in his home, and he spoiled us with Lebanese treats. He was in a break-and-enter situation when he was high on Xanax, and I accompanied him to a range of court proceedings. We put together a presentation of all the happenings in his life. This was enough to get him out of prison and continue living with his family, whom he was trying to look after. He turned his life around, and found a decent job, and I was able to get him out of the program. I called him every now and then to see how he was going, but his mental health was under control. 

 

Arren was the success story of the program. He was not engaging with Daniel, so I gave him one last shot. We met at Blacktown Shopping Centre and sat down, where he told me about his schizophrenia. Arren was able to describe his symptoms and experiences vividly. I was impressed. He came from the Philippines to care for his father, who was dying of cancer. He was living on boiled potatoes, boiled eggs, and not much else. He began coming to all the outings and all the BBQs and helping me cook lunch on Friday afternoons. He participated as much as he could and started making wonderful friends. It was such a joy to see his confidence grow as he developed his life skills and his social skills.

 

One day, our Executive Manager came into the Grose Street office at about 2:00 p.m. He was expecting things to be winding down and for us to prepare for the weekend, like he was willing to do from Tuesday onward. But the place was buzzing. We had a small handful of people in the kitchen cooking lunch and another group enjoying each other's company in the courtyard. 

 

At that point, we were proud of how the program was going and expected our contracts to be extended for at least another three years. In addition, we were training three new employees to be part of the team. Finally, we were expecting the other program that was running, the Service Navigation Program, to be combined to create a unified Psychosocial Services Program (PSP). 

 

The reality was that we only got half of the contract. What was going to be 12 positions became six. We were all asked to apply for our positions, knowing that six of us would not get them. I applied for my position and was unsuccessful. I was offered redundancy and told I had two weeks left in the position. A position that I loved. A program we had created from scratch. A program anyone would be proud of. To the Executive Manager, we were not getting the KPIs he wanted by doing useless K-10s that show no real measure of whether a service is achieving its aims. We were getting results. We were changing lives. People were enjoying themselves and learning valuable life skills. That should be the objective measure that determines whether a service is meeting its objectives. 

 

Our last day of Daniels' time at One Door was buzzing. As usual, we had 15 or 16 people in the centre, who put on a magnificent show. We had a wonderful time and enjoyed singing happy birthday to him before giving him his card and gifts. We spent a momentous day in the courtyard, having a wonderful time and enjoying everyone's company one last time. The company that had found 'Zoe's tribe,' and gave Arren a new lease on life. 

 

Daniel and Glenn also took redundancies, as Daniel was already leaving for six months to pursue his Social Worker Placement in Alice Springs. Glen was uncertain what he would do with his life, as the position had burnt him out long before I came on board. I, too, was left on the drawing board, thinking about what I was going to do next. I was again in a hole, not knowing what I had done wrong and thinking I was again making a difference. Only to be left unemployed again.