There's much fear around. I'm generally concerned that the sky may fall in. I'm personally troubled that my super fund is going south. I'm particularly appalled by a recent report that 43 per cent of young people who became homeless in Australia before the age of 18 were formerly in the care of the State.
I work with abused and homeless young people. They are in the care of the State, usually because their family and other family options have fallen apart. We try to stay with them in their anger and chaos. They display a lot of what the professionals call 'oppositional behaviour'. Placements can easily break down.
We used to say we had to show 'unconditional positive regard', but now we try to build 'constructive alliances' which focus on 'strengths' rather than 'deficits': we respond 'to the person' rather than 'to their behaviour'. It's all a test of love really.
Even when a young person settles down and starts to rebuild relationships, there's nowhere for them to go after care that can get them out of the circle of disadvantage they are in. Imagine the chances of a young person who has been in care trying to get rental accommodation on the real market. No bank balance, few references, poor education and employment history, and there is no rental accommodation available in the first place. No chance.
It's good that homelessness is on the agenda again. I hope something happens. I need someone to buy a few bedsitter flats to give us an option for the 20 or or so young people who leave our houses each year. We will provide support and the young people can pay basic rent.
For privacy reasons, I can't tell you the true story of any of the young people. But I can tell the true story of Beryl, and there's a lesson in it somewhere I believe.
Nearly a year ago I brought home three French hens in a cardboard box with holes in the side. 'Which ones are the good ones?' I had asked the young man in the produce shop.
'They'r'allgood', he said bluntly with a half broken voice, 'D'youwannapickem?'
So I picked the only blonde in the group, and she became known as Cheryl. Then I picked the brownest one, and she became Beryl. Finally there was a beaky medium red one that looked