What it's like to be homeless with mutual obligations
A single mother, living in a van in Melbourne's south-east, shares her experience dealing with a job service provider and the threat of payment suspensions.
The constant barrage of mutual obligation activities is difficult for everybody in the employment services system; but it’s especially punishing for the tens of thousands of people who are homeless or home insecure.
According to Departmental data, roughly 10% of the cohort of Workforce Australia employment services are homeless or home insecure. One job service provider recently reported that 15% of their “clients” are homeless.
In a six month period, job agencies inflicted 99, 938 payment suspensions on homeless participants for failing to meet their mutual obligation activities. This is egregiously cruel punishment of one of the most disadvantaged cohorts in the system. A humane government would immediately intervene.
Below, we publish a case study from Carolyn — a woman with significant health issues, living out of a van in Melbourne’s south-east — who talks, in her own words, about what it’s like dealing with her job service provider:
In the beginning of 2019, I lost my job. I had poor mental health, that I gave myself time to recover from. But by then Covid hit, and I couldn’t get another job. I had to sell my house and all my possessions and buy a van to live in. I’ve been living in my van now for close to 3 years. I have recently put my name down for public housing.
One thing I find extremely odd is that to engage with a job service provider, you must have a home address. Otherwise, you can’t receive your payment. I wonder: how do homeless people manage this? I made the local Centrelink my home address. Nobody has questioned me about that.The first time I went into my job agency, I asked for a private area to talk, because I’m homeless, live in a van, and I don’t want everyone knowing my business. How can I really honestly work living in a van? You can’t have a shower.
Because the offices are open-plan, there’s nothing personal or private about any conversations you’re having with your caseworker. I don’t want to walk around and say I’ve got mental health issues. I’ve had a full mastectomy in the last 12 months, I’ve had some pretty significant issues. But, if you ask for a private room, you’re seen as causing problems. I think I should be able to have a private conversation. I’ve only been able to get that once.
When I said I don’t have the petrol money to get to appointments, they told me to get a bus. If I didn’t come in they were going to have to look at cutting my pay. They said they could give me the bus fare, but I’d have to go into the bus station to get it – all for a five minute chat that I could’ve had on the phone, because the system said they had to see me that week.All appointments are about them just ticking the boxes. I shouldn’t have to go in every fortnight to explain my situation. You’re always repeating yourself. After my first appointment, I had to repeat my whole story to a new worker every two weeks. I think that the mutual obligation requirements of getting people like me to work are very outdated. It’s so ingrained that if you’re out of work, homeless, it’s because you’re a loser.
When I have phone appointments, they’re usually an hour late to call me, so I’m already a bit agitated. I find it difficult when there’s a 25 year old interviewing me about my personal stuff and they’re clearly uncomfortable, and/or have no idea what I’m talking about.
You have to justify your life to these random people. Depending on how they are that day, or how I come across, determines what my life is going to be for the next two weeks. It really shouldn’t be like that. I shouldn’t have to go to the doctor and get a certificate to say my mental health and living situation means I can’t apply for jobs. It’s detrimental to my sense of self. They made me apply for jobs when I had my mastectomy.
Centrelink told me that looking for a job in my situation isn’t viable. But my job agency says: “yeah well, we can put you in a course.” I ask them where the course is. Am I going to be able to park there in my van? How many days is it going to be?
You’re always reminded that your job agency is in control of your situation. I am just a means for that company to make money. They’re not interested in helping me. The agent has no idea what jobs I’ve done in my life, has no idea of my qualifications, has no idea whatsoever. Yet she said she’d put me in a computer skills course. I said to her: “I've got a degree in computing.” She said: “Oh you still might need an update.”
If I’m still homeless, putting me on a computer course is not going to change that. Getting me to apply for more jobs is not going to change that. If I had housing, I’d definitely be able to apply for jobs. I don’t have an aversion to work. But my situation isn’t that now.
Every single time I go to my JSP, they try to help me by comparing my problems to theirs. “You know, I’ve had this happen to me”, “Oh I had to find somewhere to rent and it’s really difficult”. I don’t want to hear their stories. I’m not there to be their sounding block. It’s like they’re saying: “But I’ve got a job and that happened to me, so what’s wrong with you?”
There’s no use to me whatsoever being in this system. They have not provided me with one thing that has helped me. The most they do is offer me a coffee when I come in. I have always found my own jobs.
It scares me that these people have so much power, not only over me, but others who may not stand up to them. The more they get away with, the worse they get.When we were on covid payments, we were lifted out of poverty, and out of a system that makes us feel shit about themselves. Once people are lifted they see their value. Once they’re under water, they can’t hear or see or stand up. It’s just a shame that our society needs the poor. It just shouldn’t be like that.