Will truth finally have its day?

Photo by Bruno van der Kraan on Unsplash
Oh, craven shadow
Can you draw your eyes away
And fix your gaze?
Can you ignore that 
In front of you?
A truth
In its fierce intensity 
Demanding your attention
Refusing to go away.
The inevitable is finally 
Leaking out 
Of the locked box 
You’ve squirrelled away
Oozing out 
From cracks and crevices
To show you 
Your enduring shame.
Oh, craven shadow
A cancer that has been eating 
At your soul
Invisibly doing its damage 
Your suit of armour helpless
As your rotting corpse 
A stench proceeding you
Growing stronger
More noticeable 
Each and every 
Passing day.
And even though 
You control the airways
And set a nation’s agenda
Some truths are too big
To be contained
And this truth is one
That must be told
Your slights of hand
Cannot distract from this day.
There must be consequences
For those that shamed
And also, what of justice 
For those silenced
For the depravities 
On bodies soiled
For those whose very souls 
Have fragmented 
Living quiet lives burdened
Lives full of shame
Tortured lives
Oh, craven shadow
Time for truth 
Your truth
The victim’s truth 
To finally have 
Their day. 

Viral petition reveals more than 500 allegations of sexual assault in Australian private schools – The Guardian

Viral petition reveals more than 500 allegations of sexual assault in Australian private schools – The Guardian

We have finally arrived at a moment in history where our nation is finally listening and if we are honest with our dismal track record and willing to do more than provide media friendly genuflections, we can change the culture of Australia and protect our daughters, sisters, mothers and others of assault and rape. It’s time to listen, be angry, and act with purpose.

Viral petition reveals more than 500 allegations of sexual assault in Australian private schools – The Guardian


Domestic Violence and Homeless Study

What do we know about the domestic violence situation of people who are also homeless? What other issues do they deal with? Can we improve support methods?

What do we know about the domestic violence situation of people who are also homeless? What other issues do they deal with? Can we improve support methods?

Jewish House collected and analysed 774 clients in a recently released study during Homelessness Week.

In the age of COVID this situation is only going to become more acute. Housing stress will affect more and more individuals and families. How can our support services – already stretched to the limit cope? How will government agencies and NFP’s successfully prioritise? Having better tools to understand the risk of homelessness will be key. That’s a journey that Jewish House is on.

Media release on study:

This is a video on domestic violence and homelessness I produced for Jewish House.

Myriam – independence a foreign state

A life without her dignity,
Without expression of her own unique identity,
Independence a foreign state

For forty years she had endured

For this had been her constant state

Subjugation her present fate

A life without

A life without her dignity

Without expression of her own unique identity

Independence a foreign state

Voice stolen

Half living


Flickering in the shadows

A life without a cause

With a history steeped in years of indoctrinating tradition

Conditioned to merely obey

The role of a woman

Of duty.

At home.

To stay.

There is no end to her husband’s torment

Her lord and master’s shrieking from his majestic throne

And it is from his threadbare and decrepit armchair

One imbued it seems with mystic properties


Emanating dread and fear

For there — the alpha dog sits



With all his arrogance on show.

And so her treatment continues

Oblivious of what’s right

An unequivocal dismissal

Made worse by an unfailing maniacal suspicion

An underlying contempt

Of someone that is not equal

A culture past, that expected submission

A constant demand to justify her inferior position

Ignoring the world outside

One that has moved on

Grasping to a past

A made up fantasy


A fictitious memory


She shakes her head in sorrow and grief

And heavily she sobs

She shudders

Hands taunt in supplication

Reaching upwards

Following a path repeated a hundred times before

Pleading to the heavens for answers

“Why has this been my fate?”

And then a thought

Unbidden… enters…

And does not leave.

“No. No more.”

For now her daughter has fully grown

Safely, forging her own path

Free to explore

Able to make mistakes and missteps her own

Leaving our forlorn protagonist so full of pride

But also so so achingly alone.

Alone to face her nightmares

One that lasts from dawn to dusk

Every waking hour brings acknowledgement


A way of life

Repeating endlessly


No escape.

“No. No more.”

Emboldened by her meek displays

Again he asserts

Again, a refusal of any permission

To simply allow her to wander outdoors alone

“A woman’s place is at home!”

But inside, coalesces a thought

Getting stronger and more certain.

“No. No more!”

A chasm to cross in darkness

One that she had to take alone

Summoning up reserves of strength

That she did not ever know

To renounce her life with her tormentor

To leave her family home

And all her worldly possessions

And their memories of a lifetime ago

To a cold and foreign Australian court

For a simple piece of paper

A stamped piece of officialdom

To file for her divorce.

“Yes. No more.”

So hurriedly with bags packed and nowhere else to go

To her daughter’s did she flee

Her life now perched in limbo

Dependent on a son-in-law indifferent to her cause

An impatience plain to see

Mark his face with troubled countenance

For her untimely imposition

That’s upset the tranquility of her new sanctuary

His home

“How long will your mother be here?” he whispers

“I understand, but I never did agree.”

“I know she is your mother…”

“This long? Really?”

“I have reasonable limits on my charity!”

But even away from home she felt constrained

For her journey was not yet complete

For in the eyes of her religion

She was not yet free

Her angry, ex-husband could justify

That he could lay claim on her

That it was his right

That sanctioned abuse could continue

For in his eyes he still owned her

To do so as he desired.

“But no. No more.”

The next step was the hardest

A painstaking and disagreeable process

That incredulously caused more terror

By putting her in a room again with her tyrant

Treated as a third party

An object for those far brighter

Who knew better

To seal her destiny

And though she nearly did break

Give up



Somehow, somehow

Her quiet voice

Remained firm

Did carry

And her case was finally made

Though it took twelve months for the Imans to grudgingly agree

What was painfully obvious for all to see

That there was no room for reconciliation

Love and duty no more than a fallacy

That the intervention order was real

That finally in God’s eye

She. was. free.

Surviving now on an old aged pension

Scrimping and scraping at the edges of modern society

She cannot afford modest housing

A future uncertain has she.

But it is a life that is now oh so different

At TAFE she helps in English language classes

To help others who face the same perilous journey

To help provide safe passage

To be their shining beacon

Against a darkening landscape

That threatens to stop the faint hearted

From withdrawing from their future

To succumbing

To their perilous fate.

This wonderful woman of the ages

Has found an inner peace

Though fate has made her journey long and arduous

That finally she feels so unfettered

That finally she feels so free.

Oh! Our heroine!

Our inspiration!

Oh gaze upon her now

Our beautiful, independent woman

For her voice has finally been found

As laughter lines now crease her aged face.

As she shares delightful, playful stories with her friends

To break bread

To live what is left of life to its fullest

To battle for her causes

To stand proud and with dignity

And now with her own identity restored

It is time perhaps

For her

To give a little nudge

To what will be her fate.