“As a resident of the Atherton Gardens Estate Fitzroy for 7 years, from a background of privileges until circumstances made me change my lifestyle. I admit it is very different and harder in a sense that you have to be evaluated for your daily living environment to an establishment who monitor your every move and also impose as your primary benefactor”.

Nevertheless, I had to change and the changes are enormous and gratifying for my personal satisfaction. I am employed with Jesuit Social Services, who’s mission statement is “Social Justice” and “to form communities of solidarity with those in need” and “to cross boundaries of culture”.

“My neighbours on the level I live are from different nations, but we live harmoniously together. Drugs are an issue and you would expect racism to prop up and social behaviour activities when these people come from war-torn countries and are then dragged into a completely different way of life”.

“The private communities need to realise that circumstantial issues made people exit from their former homes, lives and countries, to evade poverty, conflict, homelessness and genocide”.

I quote “don’t judge a book by its cover” in unison with my fellow student Julie Amore.

“There will be challenges, and also rewards. In the end, your success will depend on your own efforts…”
(Beginning a Life in Australia, Department of Immigration and Citizenship, January 2009).

“Education is the only way we can change people’s ideas about residents, we have families, bills, jobs and lives to live too”. Gabrielle, single mother, new Australian and resident of the Atherton Gardens Public Housing Estate. Why is there such a stigma attached to people who live in housing commission flats?

Ok I admit it. Born and bred east-sider, only ever travelled past Brunswick Street Fitzroy to bargain shop. Sadly I’ve never taken much notice of the four large, looming brick high-rise flats or the blossoming garden in autumn glory sprouting along the old fashioned cobbled streets.

I’m leaving the warmth of the 112 tram as I walk towards the large brick high-rise, I gasp at the sheer size & starkness of the brown bricks against the softening light. I turn to take a picture as I want this moment to stay with me, for this visit to the flats (little was I to know) started me on a journey of change and self discovery.

On my first visit, I’m planning to meet “Gabrielle**” a single mum who lives on the estate. My interest in her story is what issues she faces as not just a single woman, but a mother of a teenage child.

As I walk up to visit Gabrielle (I note this building has vast colour, life and laughter is apparent here) there is happiness in the air - almost like an aura as I approach the flat.

I knock several times as there’s no bell or glass – everything is sealed, hard, cold behind prison like mesh. I hear laughter, voices and a family inside the unit.

After a couple of minutes someone comes to the door – it’s a friendly warm lady in her early 30’s, she greets me with half straightened hair – the curling iron going hard and fast in an attempt to get ready to go out.

“Ouch, bloody stupid thing” she wails as she burns her forehead with the hot tongs. There have been a few crossed wires and the timing is off. She was expecting me earlier, but she’s not fussed, excited she’s just landed herself a new job.

Education, racism and security according to Gabrielle are the three biggest issues on the estate. She informs me warily that drugs are also a problem, but its more about stopping junkies from entering the estate, which she links straight back to security.

“Hey I’m a single mother with a daughter to raise. I want her to feel safe and happy here”. I’m sick to death of finding junkies in the laundry and stairwells shooting up”.  “I realise security are doing all they can, but it’s not residents, it’s “visitors”. We need to stamp out drug dealing once and for all on the estate, it’s a real concern.”

“They’ve also been a number of incidents for my daughter, yes security is a big issue for me.  Racism for example, has always been an issue. The concept of someone new to these shores being housed in a high-rise building and basically told to fend for themselves is definitely a major problem facing new Australians.”

Education programs offered by private and government agencies however there is still a level of unawareness for the feeling of isolation of someone new to this country with a lifetime of their own customs and traditions.

Our conversation moves to a discussion about success acceptance, understanding and compassion? Does it really matter where we live, suburb, house, unit or tent? To me, what matters is the community, family and ability to be the best person you can be?

According to Gabrielle and many others there is still a stigma attached to living in public housing, especially on an estate.

Historically, Fitzroy has a reputation of being “a bit rough round the edges”, not somewhere you’d feel safe and secure, especially if you’re raising a family. In testing this theory I have found this suburb bustling with shops, trams and cars and good people. Life on the estate has many issues, but many of them are common to all people.

I decided that I need some more context and arrange to meet with another resident of the Estate, “Oliver**” a single man in his early forties who’s been living on the estate for seven years. A long time advocate of the neighbourhood, he is former president of the Atherton Gardens Residents Association.

I press the flat number at the door and hear a friendly voice crackle over the speaker, “come on up…I’ll buzz you in”. Before I’ve walked all but three steps inside the door I am greeted by a security guard and quickly informed of the protocol for entering and leaving.

I’m told that “police, tenants, everyone, we’re really trying to eliminate drugs and maximise the safety of residents. You must advise the level & location of the tenants I’m visiting and why”. The time in and out of each building is noted.

Fitzroy police station is only minutes away and the estate has a permanent private security firm which patrols all-day everyday. Rather than feeling secure it actually makes me quite nervous – as I walk quickly towards the lift, the old fashioned lighting flickers and cracks.

As I enter the long dark corridor after a quick ride in the lift, I’m captivated as I glance across the hallway and see the city lights – they almost blind me with their intensity and distinct beauty. Against the harness of the chrome, chilled hallway, I could be anywhere in the city.

Approaching the flat I am warmly greeted by the same friendly voice I heard over the intercom. We shake hands - I’m intrigued by the building, the people and the untold stories.

Quickly I’m invited in and offered a seat at a large table in the lounge room. I note the distinct warmth and brightness of the room. There are pictures and photos from Oliver’s life and as he boils the kettle, I ask him about one particular piece that catches my eye.

It’s a large photo of a bronze statue, I am intrigued and Oliver explains he used to co-own an art gallery and this is one of the pieces, a friend of mine made. “A long time ago”, his voice tapers off.

Always thoughtful and honest he answers my questions with great effort and attention to detail.

“There are many issues effecting life on the estate, but I don’t think they’re exclusive to housing estates like this one, issues like drugs and social isolation are universal in this current society”.

“Security on the estate to me is the biggest issue currently facing residents” He also tells me earlier in the day he’s been interviewed by a large news publication and local politician. I ask him if he’s fazed by all the attention, he waves his hand & assures me he’s unfazed.

“It all started for me a couple of years ago when there was a huge media storm over gang fights on the estate, since this time security has been stepped up, with a private security firm employed on the grounds”.

It’s becoming evident that it takes a major incident for anyone to react to the issue of security on the estate. It appears gang related attacks are fuelling racial tensions. I am reminded that the flats are home to over three-thousand residents from a broad range of backgrounds, a real melting pot.

Oliver believes there’s so much we can learn from other cultures and people. It’s just like the story of “Tom”….Oliver has now become quite animated and has joined me in the lounge room at the large wooden table.

There was a recent dedication made to a resident of Atherton Gardens Estate – “it wasn’t until he’d passed away that we realised what an amazing life he had lead. There were many dignitaries at his funeral…he was such a humble man (and) in his own way he made such a difference to people’s lives on the estate”.

Trying to break through the stigma attached to the estate is difficult. According to sources, including residents and employees of the many not-for-profit organisations in the local area (they advise), we are very quick to “brand” people living on the estate.

What we really need is to educate people both residents and the general public alike. It’s about the human interaction and delicate balance of life within your own “four walls”. We humans materialise and “buy” our way to a better life a bigger car, house, boat and better clothes, but these do not truly matter unless you have the fundamental ingredient – human love & compassion.

How you treat and care for yourself and your family that counts. You could live in the biggest castle in the world, but have no concept of how to treat others. In a few short hours the people I interview restored my faith in human nature and cemented my belief in the goodness of the human spirit.

As I exit the building I’m greeted by a gale of autumn leaves, turning up the collar on my coat  suddenly I’m swept up again in the sights and smells of Brunswick street….the drum beat of a busker, winking at me I throw him some loose change as I make my way home.

Soaking up the cold air the warmth I feel inside inspires me. The residents, their passion, drive and commitment is nothing short of inspirational. I’ll be forever grateful I stepped foot inside the Estate. Thank you for opening my eyes and heart to different possibilities.

** Oliver & Gabrielle’s identities have been withheld at their request. 

This article is the result of cooperation between yarraReporter with Swinburne media and communications unit.