Spring
2015
After
the briefing session last Friday, camp became somewhat confrontational and to
put it bluntly, difficult. I was overwhelmed by the background of the campers
that we’d be working with and the effort my friends had put in to make the
event a success. The early morning starts, 4-5 hours of sleep each night, and
the fact that they had completely raised the bar to create an environment where
these girls could feel comfortable enough to just be themselves. Even though I
was present, observant, and assisting where required, it was both physically
and emotionally draining. So much so that by the time Sunday afternoon came
around, in between bump-out, lunch, and watching these girls leave to go back
to their foster homes and reality, for the next hour and two, I just couldn't
quite contain the tears.
Before
this, I’d had one experience with DOCS when
they had called to see if my sister was safe. It had been after the ‘beer
bottle incident’ and I had been studying at the UNSW.
Autumn
2011
My
father who opens all my mail, had had a few drinks with one of his mates, and
after he’d left, I'd gotten into trouble and things quickly escalated.
I
had been working in the payroll office for a non government organisation and decided that I was going
to take on some extra shifts and study part time so when the student
administration fee bill arrived for a full time study load naturally I was
waiting for the correct bill to come along. By not paying the bill however and
cutting back on my studies my father saw this as being disrespectful. I was
clearly disinterested in my studies and after all that my migrant parents had
done for my life and to put me through private school the least that I could
have done was take my studies seriously.
In
the midst of my father yelling and cursing, he had also thrown his beer across
my room – and his aim was on point! The VB bottle had
grazed the left side of my head and cut it open and for a brief moment, I
wasn't quite sure what had actually happened. Fear had left me desensitised,
and I don't recall feeling blood rushing down the side of my head before my mum
started screaming. My sister had gone into the room next door to call the
ambulance. They came with the police and off to Liverpool Hospital I went. I
had no idea that the ride to hospital would cost me an absolute fortune, and it
was only after I started working in health insurance did I put two and two
together! Note to self: Take out health insurance or ambulance coverage!
Back
in those days, having been extremely sheltered, I had an emotional cloud over
my head and to even consider taking out a restraining order on my own father
was unheard of or even a thought I could fathom. Whether it was cultural or
generational, most people I knew seemed to treat it like it was nothing and no
one ever wanted to get involved in anyone else’s business. But perhaps that
only happened in my world because even the cute doctor in ED was baffled as to
why a 20-year-old grown woman was still living at home.
I
still remember that moment and the days following clear as day. I can count all
the things I did wrong, how I could've better handled the situation, how I
could have lied, all the stories I could have made up, how I could have been
smarter in my approach and not so stupid to let that incident happen. I’m sure
from my parent’s perspective and as a 20-year-old, it was my fault for getting
myself into that situation knowing full well what I was dealing with. Even my
mum was frustrated with me for not standing up for myself.
As
a 34-year-old woman looking back I was scared shitless to breathe when in the
same room as my father. And whilst I now understand the concept of not being
responsible for someone else’s actions, it’s challenging not to feel
responsible. After all I was always the one that instigated arguments and
fights between my parents because of something I’d done, intentionally or
unintentionally, for getting my sister into trouble, for consistently creating
unpleasant situations by just being plain clumsy and opening my mouth but most
of all for just being me.
Spring
2016
I'm
returning to camp this month as the Atmosphere (Creative) Director. Ironically
the theme is ‘be you’. I have no idea as to how broken these teen girls are, where
they’ve been, what they’ve gone through, or where their life’s journey will
take them. All I know is that every person who ever set foot into this world
deserves to at the very least be loved and accepted for who they are. And in
doing so, I hope that I can use my creativity to inspire confidence and freedom
in these girls to be exactly who they are, so that they may come to know that
that is enough in and of itself.