Author: Catherine (Page 37 of 54)

Wearing Hijab in Coburg

October 11, 2014 / Catherine / 8 Comments

I’m not quite sure how to write this post. I do want to write about the day I’ve spent, but I definitely don’t want to be the white, non-Muslim woman who puts on Hijab for a day and suddenly thinks she understands what it’s like living as a Muslim woman in Australia. So I’m going to just treat this particular post (or posts, if I end up writing more than one) as a journal of sorts, and try my best to record without drawing conclusions. Which means it will probably be rambling and unpolished, so apologies in advance!

After my last post, and after depressing myself thoroughly by reading the comments sections in news articles about women in Hijab or Niqab being abused or attacked (never, ever read the comments sections if you want to retain any faith in your fellow humans. Here’s a handy Twitter feed to remind you of this.), I started looking around for ways to express solidarity and engage with the Muslim community. I’m actually much more shy than I seem (people are *terrifying*), and also afraid of doing the wrong thing and making things worse, so this was sort of difficult.

I did find a group on Facebook called Women in Solidarity with Hijabi, and it’s fairly easy to lurk in a non-confrontational way on Facebook and see what people are doing, so this seemed like a good place to start. The idea of this group is to encourage non-Muslim women to wear the Hijab for a day or a week, to show solidarity for their Muslim sisters.

I personally love this idea for many reasons, including the entirely vain one that I’ve always secretly thought that scarves look prettier than hair and have wanted to try wearing one… But more seriously, I do like the idea both of showing solidarity in this way, and of possibly confusing the bigots. I mean, wouldn’t it be cool if so many people started wearing headscarves that they no longer became a marker of religion (and thus, evidently, a way for nasty-minded and cowardly folk to identify people to pick on)? And… as a feminist, I get very nervous when people talk about banning the burqa or the niqab. I mean, yes, part of me does worry that some women are being forced to wear a garment which certainly circumscribes their freedom of action (I can’t see cycling or doing labwork in a niquab, frankly), and which may also reduce their ability to participate socially in society – but I think that banning these garments is likely to further isolate women who may not have a choice about their covering, or who are deeply conscientious about it – like the girls in France who simply stopped going to school when the hijab was banned, because they did not feel that they could be uncovered in public. But most of all, I really, really am not comfortable with the government telling women (and it’s always women) what they may or may not wear. I wouldn’t like it if the government forced me to wear a burqa, and I wouldn’t like it if the government forced me to go topless. What I wear should be nobody’s business but my own.

Of course, the obvious question that arises from this idea is – is wearing a hijab when I’m not Muslim offensive to Muslims?

Islamophobia comes to Coburg

October 1, 2014 / Catherine / 6 Comments

It seems that a Melbourne woman was attacked on a train last Thursday, apparently because she looked Muslim. According to the article, her head was bashed repeatedly against the wall of the train, and then she was shoved out at the next station. Police are calling for witnesses to the attack to come forward.

This is, alas, only one of a number of attacks on Muslims over the last few weeks, in response to the actions of the terrorist group calling itself the Islamic State, and the recent decision to raise our terror alert to high. Each of these attacks makes me feel both horrified and sad, but this one strikes particularly close to home, because the train line on which she was attacked was the Upfield line, and the attack occurred between my local station, Coburg, and the next one up the line, Batman – at which she was pushed out of the train. Charming.

And here is something you can do right now

September 26, 2014 / Catherine / 2 Comments

According to Amnesty International, a Bill is being debated right now that will make significant changes to the assessment process for asylum seekers. And these changes are not good ones. I especially like the part where the bill “calls for a number of provisions in the UN Refugee Convention – to which Australia is party – to be removed from the Migration Act.”

Not unexpectedly, number one on the Exciting List of Mean Things To Do To Refugees (yes, that’s flippant, but honestly, it’s flippancy or despair right now) is the reintroduction of Temporary Protection Visas, which puts people in a horrible position where their refugee status is reassessed every three years, with the threat of deportation at the end of each three year period if they are no longer deemed to be at risk.

Given how very bad our government has been at assessing risk to asylum seekers, both within our system and in terms of deporting people back to their countries of origin where they are trapped in war zones, killed, ‘disappeared‘, or otherwise persecuted, exactly as they told us they would be, this is a pretty frightening thought. Bad enough to have to go through this harrowing process once, but to have to roll the dice for your life every three years seems cruel and unusual – and not conducive to mental health.

Let’s be clear – a temporary protection visa tells people: “You are not one of us. You are not welcome.” It says “Don’t get too comfortable here.” On a practical level, it also says “Don’t bring your family, and don’t go home to visit them,” which is another cruelty designed to make people give up.

These are all, quite frankly, terrible things to do to people who have already suffered from persecution in their home countries.

But it’s also a pretty terrible thing to do to Australia. Setting aside the burden on our collective conscience – which I think is immense – the temporary protection visa weakens us as a country. Whether you take the protectionist view that people who come here from other cultures need to assimilate, or the multiculturalist view that people who come here from other cultures enrich us, the temporary protection visa undermines this, because the other thing this visa tells people is: “You have no stake in this country.”

If we are serious about being worried about terrorism, this is a really stupid thing to do. And if we just want to be decent human beings, it’s a deeply unkind thing to do.

Either way, we need to stop doing it.

The High Court of Australia recently ruled that we could not prevent people from applying for permanent protection. I’m guessing that the new Bill is designed to counter this.

So. Here’s what we can do today.

Amnesty International is encouraging you to call your Senator today, and provides some scripts you can use to do so. You can find a list of Senators for your state here – click on the map to find the ones for your state.

This is horribly intimidating, I know. Frankly, I always feel as though I sound like a complete idiot when I ring a politician, so I’ll probably use Amnesty’s script, or something very like it. And still sound like a complete idiot.

You can also send emails or letters, which is a bit less scary. I’m going to try to draft something over the weekend and post it here, just in case that is useful to anyone.

If you are more of a rally sort of person, there is also a Walk for Refugees coming up on October 25th in a city near you.

If you’d rather run than walk, the Asylum Seeker Resource Centre has a Run for Refugees fundraiser coming up in conjunction with the Melbourne Marathon.

If, on the other hand, you prefer to sit, Love Makes A Way is an ecumenical Christian organisation that does training in non-violent direct action and does sit-ins at the offices of politicians. (They definitely have non-Christians involved in the sit-ins – I’ve spotted at least one Rabbi in photos – but I suspect you’d need to be pretty comfortable with prayer to participate, regardless of your affiliation.)

And if you know about any other actions that can be taken on this, please let me know, and I’ll add them to the list.

Now, I’m off to spend the rest of my lunchbreak ringing a Senator. Wish me luck!

PS – another item on this bill is the new Fast Track Processing, which sounds really great on the surface, but tends to greatly disadvantage people who have been traumatised by torture or sexual violence if they are unable to talk about this immediately (essentially because there’s no real time to build any sort of rapport with the interviewer, and these sorts of things can be incredibly difficult to talk about and tend to be revealed over a longer period of time). And of course ‘greatly disadvantage’ can mean getting deported when they really are at risk.

Edited to update: I have now rung six senators – Senators Di Natale (Greens), Conroy (Labor), Muir (Motoring Lobby), McKenzie (Nationals) Madigan (Independent) and Fifield (Liberal). In that order, I might add, because I figured that I’d leave the scary ones and the ones who might actually be on the fence until last. So the Greens were basically my practice run, because I find this terribly intimidating, but I pretty much know which way the Greens will vote, so there’s no way that phone call can go badly! My script was similar to the one from Amnesty – though when I was speaking to the Coalition offices, I expressed my awareness that this was Coalition policy, but that I wanted to let the Senators know that I was against it. I also mentioned my concerns that TPVs are counterproductive if we are seriously concerned about terrorism, because they don’t give people a stake in our community.

Everyone I spoke to was very friendly and helpful, especially the woman from Senator McKenzie’s office (who took notes while I was speaking – and when I apologised for speaking fast, because I was nervous, said that they always want to hear from people and know what they think about what the government is doing, and I shouldn’t worry, which was kind of her), and the man from Madigan’s office (who seemed struck by my argument about terrorism, which he said wasn’t one he had considered, and also informed me that Madigan was absolutely against TPVs, which was good to hear). I left a message on Senator Muir’s voicemail, which I suspect was pretty much the only phonecall where I managed to sound like a grownup.

But, intimidating as it was, it has been done, and hopefully it will have some weight. I was heartened by the fact that even the Coalition offices made an effort to be approachable and were clearly taking notes.

(I still prefer letters, though. It’s so much easier not to sound like a twit in a letter.)

Another manifesto

September 25, 2014 / Catherine / 4 Comments

Right now, I don’t like the shape of politics in this country. In fact, I feel quite literally sick to my stomach when I think about it. I feel as though we are all being deliberately encouraged to be afraid, to be anxious, to view people who are different from us as other, and as a threat. The current target of our collective fear and anger is Muslims, but to be honest, I think our politicians and our media have been training us to fear and mistrust each other for some time – asylum seekers, the unemployed, people on disability pensions, young people – all of these have been presented to us recently as the source of our problems, a threat to our financial well-being, or even to our physical security. It’s an excellent distraction from an unpopular budget, and also works nicely to justify inequitable social policies.

After all, we are told, In Times Like These, we must all make sacrifices.

The problem is that sometimes what we are sacrificing is our sense of compassion and our common humanity.

I don’t think this is a sacrifice worth making. In fact, I believe that there is absolutely nothing we can buy which is worth such a cost.

Sample letters – and some replies

May 21, 2014 / Catherine / 1 Comment

I’m taking a break from being a walking, talking, one-woman letter-writing campaign to post a few sample letters for people who are completely stuck. A big part of this exercise is once again to show you that you don’t have to write something brilliant, so long as you write something and send it. Because I really don’t know how good these letters are (it’s hard to produce a quality product in bulk!).

Good or bad, they are getting replies.

Canned replies from Labor, mostly, which is a bit disappointing, but not surprising. I suspect that the ALP is hearing from quite a lot of people right now, and the precise content is probably less important than being able to scan the letter and putting it in the ‘for’ or ‘against’ pile. (Please bear in mind, I have absolutely no knowledge of the inner workings of political parties – I’m just basing this on the fact that I am getting very standardised ‘your call is important to us and will be answered by the next available operator’ sorts of letters.) Though it wouldn’t surprise me to that they have some sort of spreadsheet where they tick off what particular issues were raised in the letter so that they can get some idea of which particular bits of the budget are causing the most conniptions. It’s what I’d do if I were them, frankly.

(Actually, if I were them and I were very clever, I might even keep a file of people who were interested in particular issues and contact them when I was campaigning or doing something about a particular issue and wanted either donations or a show of public support. Tailored marketing, in fact. On second thoughts, I think I’m glad they don’t seem to be that clever yet.)

The Greens are sending me very sweet emails thanking me for my support, and earnestly assuring me that they will keep fighting the good fight. I liked the one who suggested that I could follow the Greens on Facebook, and in the same breath added ‘but you are probably doing that already’. No flies on her… In general, though, I’m getting the impression that these particular emails are being read by actual people and replied to briefly but personally. Incidentally, I also get the sense that very few people ever contact politicians thanking them for what they are currently doing or saying and encouraging them to keep doing it. There is a tone of astonished delight in these responses that is quite unmistakeable. It’s quite fun. (And then you get added to their mailing lists FOREVER.)

Palmer United seemed incredibly excited to hear from me. Something tells me that they don’t get many letters. They also clearly decided that I am a good letter-writing sort of soul, and thus encouraged me to share my views with my local MP and my newspaper. And to join the Palmer United Party. I reckon the letter was about half form letter and half not.

Oh, and I’ve got a reply from Joe Hockey’s office from my last round of letters about Medicare. He is aware of the concerns of the community and appreciates that I have taken the time to write to him. It’s so nice to know that he cares…

On to the letters!

A restorative post

May 20, 2014 / Catherine / 0 Comments

One of the most painful things, I think, about this entire budget situation is that awful fear that this is what Australians want. That they really would put the budget ahead of people’s livelihoods. That they would rather spend huge sums of money locking up refugees in cruel conditions than allow them to be processed more cheaply and humanely in Australia. That they actually do think that certain people are so undeserving that they should receive no help at all.

In other words, I’m afraid that many people really did vote for this government on purpose and in full knowledge of what they were likely to do.

I find this heartbreaking.

There is reason to hope that my pessimism is excessive. Opnion polls suggest that the Australian public do, in fact, find this budget unfair and are (at least currently) inclined to punish the government for it.

And there is hope to be found in the number of people who turned out to the rallies on the weekend – ten thousand people in Melbourne alone, and that on three days notice.

I can’t stop reading about this stuff. And I still have letters to write. But I think, both for me and for a lot of people I know, and perhaps for you, too, there is a point at which you have to give yourself a mental break. You have to look at something that doesn’t make you want to cry.

Maintaining one’s rage is important – but it’s also exhausting.

So today, I want to write about some of the people who are helping restore my faith in my fellow Australians just now. Not politicians, just people who are going about their lives in ways that I, personally, find inspiring. I’ll be back to writing letters tomorrow, have no fear, but just now, I want to contemplate the fact that there *are* people in this country – many people, even – who are full of intelligence and compassion and are doing what they can, no matter how small their circle, to make the world a better place.

People like my friend R, who, when she found that her health issues limited her ability to participate in political action, used the internet to set up a group designed to “provide support and respite at actions to marginalised and vulnerable people so they will feel empowered to come protest.” Pretty awesome, don’t you think?

People like A, the minister at the main church I sing at, who was one of the organisers of the rally to welcome refugees, who attends budget protests, and who spent yesterday in a prayer vigil at Bill Shorten’s office as part of the Love Makes A Way movement. They and the group sitting-in at Tony Abbott’s office were both eventually removed by police. The group intends to continue with their non-violent direct action until both major parties commit to releasing the 1023 children in detention. I suspect that this will take a long time. And I suspect that they will keep on going back, no matter how long it takes.

People like my sister in law, T, who has the most amazing passion for the environment and expresses it in this incredibly welcoming, inclusive, non-judgmental way that invites collaboration. One of the things she does (and I hope I’m describing this properly) is work with farmers to help them figure out how to manage their environmental impact while still being able to farm in a way that is functional and works economically. I love the way she can combine her drive to make the world a better place with so much practicality and willingness to meet people half way.

People like my colleagues, who are honestly one of the most amazing groups of people anyone could work with – not just intelligent, but thoughtful and generous. Their support during my Living Below the Line Challenge was incredible – and the number of them who have expressed discomfort that medical research (the field they work in) is getting funding while everything else is getting cut is a timely reminder that there are people in Australia who have the imagination and compassion to consider how policies will affect people who are not like them. (Also, they are probably going to cure cancer, which I think we can all agree is a very good thing, too.)

People like my little brother, who is far more cynical about the political process than I will ever let myself be, but who also does pro-bono work with asylum seekers whose cases require legal aid.

People like my friend F, with whom I have almost nothing in common politically, but who actually does really useful development work with micro-loans and helping people set up self-supporting businesses in Tunisia.

People like M, who writes what I think of as a ‘real’ political blog – she is incredibly engaged with and knowledgeable about the political process, and has an absolute gift for breaking it down into something that makes sense for the rest of us.

People like J, and R, and E, and all the other people who have told me this week that they’ve never written to a politician before but that they are going to do so now, even though they find the idea totally intimidating, because they don’t want to see their country become a harsher, less generous place.

And this is only the beginning of a list, really. I haven’t included any politicians on this list, though in fact there are some who inspire me quite a bit. I haven’t included anyone I don’t know personally, in fact, because otherwise one just ends up with a litany of amazing charities and causes, which are pleasing to know about, but which misses the point. And I’m fairly sure I have missed lots and lots of people who I should have mentioned above, even so.

One of the best things about going to the rally this weekend was looking around me and being reminded that there are plenty of Australians out there who want to make our country more just, more compassionate, more generous.

But I don’t even have to look as far as that to find people who care – people who inspire me.

I doubt that you do, either.

So, just to cheer us all up a bit, let’s have a little party in the comments to this post celebrating the people around us who give us hope in life. We can write our letters again tomorrow, but let’s give ourselves a little break today, and remember that we are not alone.

But who is going to pay for all this?

May 19, 2014 / Catherine / 0 Comments

I, personally, feel that it is a moral imperative to fund affordable medical care, education, and pensions that support those who are unable to work by reason of age, disability, illness, caring responsibilities, or sheer misfortune (and seriously, the government’s own budget forecast says that unemployment is going to rise next year – tell me again how this is the fault of job seekers?). These, to my mind, should be the absolute first things that a country’s budget funds, because they are the basics that allow people to participate in society. We don’t have any declarations about ‘life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness’ in our constitution, but I think that, as a rule, these are things Australians feel people should be entitled to, and they are pretty much dependent on being able to remain fed, clothed, in good health, and educated enough to pursue a career.

I’ve read a bit of commentary around the place that says, essentially, that while these things are all very well, someone has to pay for them, and we simply can’t afford them. And it’s irresponsible to spend these huge sums of money that we can’t afford during a budget emergency.

Look, I’m no economist. (And thank heavens for that – both I and the world are improved by that little piece of luck, frankly) I can’t tell whether there is a budget emergency or not. Charts like this one incline me to think not. But I’m a rabid loony lefty, so what would I know?

Anyway, I have no intention of discussing whether we are in a budget emergency or not, because as far as I can see, the conversation breaks down entirely along political lines anyway. What I want to address is whether it is fiscally responsible to cut the pension and add a co-pay to Medicare, because I don’t think it is. I think that leaving these two pillars of the social safety net alone is in fact a financial imperative as well as a moral one.

Ah yes, but who is going to pay for all this?

I think the point is – who will pay for it if we don’t. And the answer, in very real terms, is – the future.

(Hello, Budget Twilight Zone!)

Quite seriously, though, the Medicare co-payment will stop some people from going to the doctor. It will mean people will make their own judgment calls about how sick they are, and sometimes, because they are not qualified medical practitioners, they will get it wrong. By the time people do seek medical care, they will be sicker, and the costs of treatment for them will be higher. (Alternatively, they might not get to seek medical care at all because they will be dead, which probably is cheaper to treat, and also decreases the surplus population, but I don’t think anyone seriously wants to be cast in the role of Scrooge, here)

Other people might decide to delay or avoid vaccinations, because of the expense. Or they might choose to take their infectious disease in to work, because they can’t afford the doctor’s visit to get a sick certificate that day. I worked in a lab a few years ago where everyone got conjunctivitis again and again, because people kept coming back to work early and reinfecting everyone. (This was the fault of people having absolutely no common sense about infection despite working in medical research, and not the fault of medicare, and sadly, one cannot legislate against people being idiots, but one can certainly avoid putting barriers in the way of people who want to be sensible.) This resulted in a lot more doctor’s visits and prescriptions than would otherwise have been needed. And conjunctivitis is a relatively mild medical issue. There are plenty of other nasty infectious diseases that start off looking like a cold, and a lot of people are not going to see the doctor for a cold, especially if it’s the end of the pay cycle and they are low on money.

Chronic diseases will also be a growing problem. Fewer people going for checkups means fewer diseases being identified early – and so people will be sicker before they even start treatment for things like diabetes or heart disease or cancers. Setting aside that this is a horrible thing to do to people, this is going to burden both the health and the social security system, as breadwinners find themselves too sick to work, and reliant on the pensions that we are currently busy cutting. The entire new pension system now seems to rely on families supporting young people potentially up to the age of 30 while their parents work until 70 – but with reduced access to medical care, fewer people are going to be able to remain in full-time work for this long.

I don’t know whether it will be five years down the track or ten, but make no mistake – we will inevitably find ourselves with greater per capita medical costs, and two options: either the common purse pays for it, or we go down the American route of treating only people who can afford to cover the costs of their medical treatment. Given that America is currently trying to dismantle their own system because it is so destructive to individuals, families, and society generally, I don’t think we want to go down that route.

On the social security side, I’ve already mentioned the way health will impact on the pensions, but let me return again to the policy of leaving young people with absolutely no income for their first six months of joblessness. Young people whose families cannot or will not support them (and yes, this really does happen) are going to find themselves dependent on charity – which is itself dependent on enough people having enough spare resources to donate. We will see, inevitably, a rise in homelessness, as most landlords won’t be understanding of a six-month rent-free period, and we are also likely to see a rise in the crime rate, as people have nowhere else to turn. (Aha! Finally I see it – this is a job creation strategy! Law enforcement jobs will be on the rise!)

This, too, will have enormous costs to the community, both in terms of treating and helping the victims of crime, and, frankly, of the futures stolen from those who commit them through no other choice. A criminal record is not generally considered a good addition to one’s CV when job hunting.

Setting aside all ethics (as, indeed, this government appears to have done), this budget may possibly decrease our debt today, but it does so in the most dishonest way possible.

We are saving money today by borrowing from the future, and the interest rates are going to be high.

Letters, and who to send them to

May 18, 2014 / Catherine / 5 Comments

I’m having a big letter-writing weekend this weekend, though I’ll probably also go to the protest later this afternoon.

I’ve been chatting to a few people about who to write to, and what to say when you do. Let me start by saying that I am absolutely not an expert on this. But having said that, here’s who I think is worth a shot (note that these links all lead either to contact forms or to email addresses):

your local lower house representative. It’s his or her job to read your letters!
The leader and deputy leaders of the Opposition (Bill Shorten and Tanya Plibersek), and shadow ministry members who have portfolios that are relevant to your concerns. So I’m writing to Chris Bowen (treasurer), Mark Butler (environment), Catherine King (health), Senator Jan McLucas (housing, homelessness, mental illness), Jenny Macklin (families, disability), Senator Penny Wong (senate leader, who wrote a pretty good article about the budget a few days ago)
Your state senators, of every flavour except Liberal. I’d include the Nationals in this one, because country people are getting the short end of the stick in this budget, too.
The Green senators.
Edited to add: The Palmer United Party. Clive Palmer has said he will oppose this budget because of the changes to Medicare and the pension, and we want him to stand firm on this! Palmer doesn’t seem to have a standard APH email address or contact form, but you can reach Palmer United through this link.
For bonus points, and I’d save this one for last, minor party and independent senators from other states.

Yeah, that’s a huge amount of people. You really don’t have to write to all of them. Start with your local lower house rep, Bill Shorten and your local Greens Senators – I think everyone has at least one by now – or the Greens Leader, Senator Christine Milne.

What should you write in these letters? Well, honestly, that’s up to you. Personally, I’m writing a brief letter of thanks and encouragement to the Greens – on the whole, they are covering the things I care about and can probably be relied on to oppose the budget no matter what I do, but encouragement is never a bad thing. My local MP, Kelvin Thomson, has a blog, and he wrote a few things about the budget in it, so my letter to him picks up on the themes he wrote about. Bill Shorten’s Budget Reply is available online, and I’ll take the same approach there. For everyone else, I’m googling their name and ‘2014 budget’, to see what they’ve said about it. Or looking them up on Facebook and Twitter, where they put their bite-sized responses to the budget. (Hi, I’m Catherine and I’ll be your political stalker for today!)

The general structure I’m using is starting by thanking them for their opposition to the budget, a paragraph or two expressing my thoughts feelings about the issues on which we agree, and a final sentence urging them to keep opposing the budget.

I’ll post a few examples later, if anyone is interested.

Is this effective? I have no idea. But if, like me, you want the various opposition parties to block this budget to the best of their ability, I think it’s a good idea to let them know that the voters are behind them if they do. Abbott is doing his best to scare the minor party senators, at least, into compliance. I have no idea if a letter can change this or not, but I don’t think it can possibly be a bad thing to let people we agree with know that we are on their side.

Happy letter-writing! And remember – your letter doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be sent.

For a full list of Members of Parliament and the Senate, visit the APH website here – you can find your local MP (start by finding your electorate), or sort senators by state or party, or find a list of incoming senators, or the shadow ministry, or more. Contact details can be found through individual upper and lower house members’ pages, or you can find a general directory here, once you know who you are looking for.

The Budget and the Cross-Benchers

May 15, 2014 / Catherine / 0 Comments

I still don’t know what to do. This is one of those weeks when it’s very hard to believe that ordinary Australians have any power at all to influence the government, or even politics in general.

But that’s only half true. I have to believe that.

At this point, I don’t see that there is much to be gained from writing to Tony Abbott, to Joe Hockey, or to any other members of the Coalition. From everything I’ve read in the last day or so, they really believe in this budget, and they aren’t going to change their minds about that.

But the Coalition is not the only party in the Senate, and frankly, they aren’t the majority, either.

In fact, if this graphic from the Australian is to be believed, the Coalition is going to have a lot of trouble getting some of its policies through the Senate at all. It’s a giant game of chicken, and we just have to hope that the ALP, the Greens, the Independents and the micro-parties don’t blink first.

(well, except the LDP. They can blink as much as they like. But I think we all know I was never going to have much in common with them – in fact, their sole issue with this budget is that some of the taxes have gone up.)

Let’s have a look at what they are saying, shall we?

Poverty, Unemployment and the Budget

May 14, 2014 / Catherine / 4 Comments

I don’t think it will come as a surprise to anyone reading this that I am horrified by the proposed budget.

Horrified doesn’t really cover it, actually. I feel quite literally sick to my stomach at the thought of it. It makes me want to cry.

There is so much not to like about it that it’s hard to know where to start, but the part I want to focus on today is the changes to unemployment benefits for people under thirty. The reason I want to focus on these changes is because I don’t see any way that it won’t result in people becoming homeless and possibly starving.

Under the new rules, if you are under thirty and become unemployed, you will receive no benefits whatsoever for six months. During this time, you will be expected, during these six months, to participate in government-funded job search and employment services activities, whatever these are. (I wonder how they expect people to get to these? Neither petrol nor tram tickets are free. Are they going to provide free public transport to job seekers?) After that, you get six months on the pension – which, if you are under 24, will now be substantially lower – during which time you must also work for the dole for 25 hours a week. And if that doesn’t work, you are back to nothing.

The government says that this is about getting young people to ‘earn or learn’. Setting aside the fact that they have just deregulated university fees and de-funded most forms of research that aren’t medical research (and hey, I work in the industry, I’m very happy that medical research didn’t get cut, but I do think there are other areas of research that are just as important), a combination that is likely to raise university fees to unaffordable levels, there are a number of problems with this approach.