Don’t judge, and listen

Jim had a long history of alcohol use, but he has been sober for the past two years.

He spent several years in prison for various family violence and alcohol-related offences, including driving under the influence. He is now required to perform community service to be allowed to drive again.

Jim’s priority is to find a job and secure an income for his family. Finding a job has been difficult without a driver’s licence and certificates for specific trades. He has experienced discrimination from potential employers who ask him to disclose his past imprisonment.

“I just want a job, but I can’t get one… The first thing they ask is ‘Have you been to prison?’. How am I to get a job then?”

When he was using alcohol, Jim was unaware of its impact on him and his family. He did not perceive his drinking as problematic and did not seek support from relevant service providers. He now realises and regrets the harm that he may have caused with his drinking.

“I didn’t want the support when I was drinking. I didn’t think it was a problem. I thought I was bullet-proof… but I wasn’t.

I know it affected my family… I couldn’t really support them, even for food… I know I was a bad father… It hurts now to know this.”

Jim was in prison when he realised he needed to change his life. He found out that his daughter was pregnant, and decided to take on responsibilities to ensure the wellbeing of his grandchildren.

“When I learned (my daughter) was pregnant I thought I need to think about my grandchild now, I can’t be like that.

I need to focus now to pay my bills… I got to put my kids through education.”

Jim faces stigma and discrimination in his interactions with government services and potential employers.

“They feel shame when I talk to them. They put their head down like they are ashamed. They look guilty… But they won’t pass my CV when I give it to them… All I need is honesty… I want to be treated equally.”

Jim feels that services in his community fail to understand him and his culture.

“They don’t know the culture, the background. They can’t connect to me…

They don’t understand how I am living, how I am paying my bills…

I want services that are honest and understand my culture. They need to understand us, what we do and how we do it… Some don’t even understand when there’s sorry business going on.”

Jim visits a local community service organisation daily to socialise and participate in yarning groups. He values the consistency and reliability of the support he receives.

“I come here every day because I know they will be here. They are always here... There’s no surprises.”

Jim wants to be useful to his community and would welcome opportunities to teach younger Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people and service providers about his culture. At the end of the interview he was optimistic and talked about an appointment for a job interview the following day.

One of the communities invited us to attend a yarn with a group of women who meet regularly at a local service provider. The women attending the group had either lived experience of alcohol and other drug use or were the main carer of a person with lived experience.

The women acknowledged that drinking alcohol and using other drugs was a ‘way to cope’ with pain and trauma in their lives.

The women shared experiences of racism in their everyday lives.

“Oh you see it on people. They don’t want to touch you, they put the money on the counter, so they don’t have to touch your hand.”

“People look at you like you got germs or smell.”

“People treat me like I am no good, they ignore me.”

“Some people cross the road so not be near me, and don’t talk to me.”

“Always people think you must be drunk, even if you just old or sick.”

Most women in the group sought support with their alcohol and other drug use either in times of crisis or after being ordered by the court or the police.

The women with lived experience of alcohol and other drug use received ongoing support from family members, Elders in the community and the service provider that organised their meetings. Support from other women in their families and communities was an important shared experience.

“Strong ones, aunties and others, look out for us and get us help.”

The women distrusted most service providers and the police, seeing them as culturally inappropriate and unsafe.

“I don’t go to service ’cause they don’t listen.”

“They got no cultural healer, just (western medicine).”

“There’s no cultural support, just feel like we are filling out surveys.”

Matthew has always lived in his community.

“I had a good upbringing. My parents were hard working but there was no love or attachment. I had to seek for my own self, my own identity... I left home when I was 17 but stayed around same area.”

When growing up, Matthew experienced problematic use of alcohol in his family that discouraged him from using alcohol.

“I am not a drinker, I’ve seen violence around with drinking and that put me off… Everyone drinks in my family.”

From an early age and throughout his school years, Matthew has experienced fear and violence in his family and in his community.

“In high school I used to play Street Fighter at the arcade… All that violence, everything that was in the game, was happening in the streets. Everything was the product of our environments.

Growing up in (community) was a test… School was all knives, guns and heroin… I was at a shooting with my cousins when I was 11… I am always conscious who is around… You need to be tough out there.”

Matthew has a long history of drugs use, predominately as part of his social interactions with male peers at school, in prison and in the community.

“I’ve done all drugs… Sniffed toilet spray, chroming, heroin, now ice. I smoked bongs since I was 11, had my first needle at 14, speed at 15.

When I started sniffing… it was about belonging in a group... bonding with the brothers.

Sometimes I take the drugs from others, ’cause if I don’t they’ll overdose. And then I take them myself…”

Matthew feels that, like him, many people in his community have had traumatic experiences and have disconnected from their families and social networks.

“People lose themselves here. They don’t know who they are… I feel like I am a torn man.”

Matthew has several children from different partners. In the past, he did not voluntarily seek support for his drug use, but has been ordered to attend programs for rehabilitation and detoxification as a condition for maintaining contact with his children and partners.

“I didn’t think I needed to go (for support). I wouldn’t go for help unless I was forced to.”

Matthew has recently acknowledged that his drug use is problematic, but his past experiences with service providers and stigma associated with drug use are discouraging him from seeking help. He perceives that the mainstream service provider for alcohol and other drugs use support in his community is not culturally appropriate. He hesitates to visit the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander provider because he knows the people who work there. Matthew feels there is nowhere for him to go where he can be heard and that he can trust.

“The drugs are a problem for me… It stops me from being the person I can become.

I tried to see a counsellor but did not get a good reaction from them... I never connected with the ATODs (Alcohol, Tobacco and Other Drugs) place. I wouldn’t go there. They are too clinical, too professional… Organisations are not genuine. We need someone to be there. We need to be consistent, to connect to the person.

I’ve slept on a lot of things. There’s been no avenue for me to lay my thoughts off.”

Matthew occasionally reaches out to his neighbours for help.

“I’ll go to my neighbours if I need help… they have more routine… they are more stable. It’s bad if you don’t have that…”

Matthew longs for stability. He is now trying to re-connect with his family and wants to create a home where all his children can be raised together.

“I need to work and have all of my kids under one roof… I need stability.

I could have straightened up with family… cultural interactions… rather than losing myself as a person.”

Gavin’s parents and grandparents had been affected by policies relating to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people in Queensland, including those giving rise to the stolen generation and to birthing being disallowed in Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities. Gavin came to his current community as a teenager because of his link to his grandmother.

“My grandma was one of the first born here but taken (to another place) as soon as she was born. I had a good relationship with my grandma so came to this place and didn’t leave.”

Gavin’s use of alcohol was a way of coping with his depression.

“I was able to hide my depression real good. I self-medicated with alcohol and hid within the stereotype of ‘black fella, he’s just drunk’…The drink gave me a sense of euphoria and took away the pain. I drank for 15 years from the age of 17.”

Gavin’s mother had ensured that he obtained an education. Gavin was employed for much of the time that he used alcohol.

“I didn’t think I had a problem even when I was losing friends and family. With education, I was able to work so could afford alcohol. Everyone was around me because I could afford it. Some days I would turn up to work and couldn’t think or I would take sick days. Nothing was said at work.”

Gavin had some experience of support services during this period but they were in response to emergency events and had failed to engage him.

“No-one came to us to talk about harm, we would need to go to the service. I had two visits to the hospital for alcohol poisoning. Staff in the hospital reminded me of growing up on a mission where someone of privilege would talk down to me. The hospital staff did not really care about me – my support group was my drinking mates – they were there to put me down. They don’t know the life experience, they have no experience. They were talking about the physical body, not the impact mentally and spiritually…Separating the person from the problem is a big issue.”

Gavin wants services with staff who understand the ways in which pain has been experienced by Aboriginal and Torres Strait islander people. He believes that effective support requires an understanding about a cultural approach to disconnecting pain.

“Services are not culturally relevant. Even Indigenous people (as co-facilitators or liaison officers) if they have not lived the life we have lived, become like the oppressor, taking their side and advocating for them, not for us….As a kid, could go to school all day and not have food or water. It was a constant thing that we would go without. Taught culturally how to disconnect from pain, but not taught that until I gave up alcohol.”

Gavin perceived that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people lack confidence in mainstream services because of the negative impact of past policies and practices.

“History plays a big role in the lack of faith in mainstream services. The conspiracy theorists would say that government programs are not to be trusted… (For example,) the stigma associated with the Alcohol Management Plan had led people to fear that if you end up in hospital intoxicated then you could get locked up, so people are not going there until late.”

Gavin’s turning point was an ultimatum from his wife asking him to choose between alcohol and his wife and child, and from his grandfather who told him that he would not pass on the knowledge unless he gave up alcohol.

“I wanted to learn more… My grandfather brought me traditional healing practice. I had no faith in services that showed no real action in Indigenous beliefs and spiritual health…Family changed things…I had an active kinship system therefore I had to deal with my mother’s sisters and aunties…Family and culture saved me.”

Anna was separated from her mother when she was a child. She was raised by her grandma, who has since passed away, and now lives with her father and some of her siblings.

“Mum was unhealthy and unstable, drugs, bad environment. One day I went to school with big marks on my legs and Child Safety came and talked to us. We had to leave mum, but my nanny asked for us to stay with her to keep the family.”

Anna dislikes alcohol. She has used methamphetamine since she was 14, at times daily. She currently uses cannabis.

I used to love ice. It was my everyday thing... I’m off ice now, don’t have good relationship with that. But weed, I still love it… I stick to weed now, it helps me sleep, relax during the day. I think too much.

Anna has experienced racism in her interactions with the wider community.

“When I go shopping they follow me around the shop. The way they stare… It turns you off from going shopping, if they are looking at you and follow you around. I say (expletive) it. I say I know what you doing, I am not going to steal, I have money. The way they look at you like every other black man. I know stealing is a sin. Don’t think about me like that.

It does break my heart when I go to places like that. It’s not fair, to be treated differently. We are all the same no matter what colour we are.”

Anna says she experiences discrimination when seeking services at Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander service providers due to her kinship and family background.

“I try to avoid (expletive) places all together. Some places if I say I am (name) they ask ‘What’s your last name’ and then I get different treatment because I am from another mob.”

She has had negative experiences with welfare services, including difficulties in obtaining support because she lacks a birth certificate.

“Services around here… there’s no real help. They say that you have to wait or you gotta go get this and that, and the other place say the same but different words, that I need birth certificate, and I don’t have anything.”

Anna feels that service providers cannot empathise with her and lack appropriate understanding of her background and circumstances. She feels that no one goes out of their way to reach out and help her.

“…when I open up I can see it in their eyes that they don’t know, they give mad advice.

No one comes to me.”

These experiences have discouraged Anna from seeking support in her community for her drug use. She also feels ‘shame’ to ask for help and is unaware of alternative options available for support in her community.

“I feel shame when around people, when I need to ask for help and don’t know how to talk. When it comes to getting help, I find it’s hard.

There’s no information around here, you need to know people to find things.”

Anna finds strength in writing and keeping journals.

“A couple of weeks ago I was going to suicidal thought… I stayed away from everybody. I wrote things down and that helped me. I like doing that.

I taught myself to write, I started writing and got four journals now.”

She now lives with her father, who is her main supporter and whom she loves.    

“My dada helped me lot, looking for me in the house and telling my mates to leave me out of trouble. He goes around to suppliers and tells them to not (expletive) with my daughter. He used to tell everyone to get away from me so they don’t give me ice.

I love being with my family now. I used to block them out but now it’s different. I like just chilling out and having good vibes. It was hard when granny left.

My dad used to be a bad heroin user. His babies made him stop. He’s got two kids on the way.”

Ben is Anna’s father. His mother’s experiences with alcohol have deterred Ben from using alcohol. He’s been using other drugs, mostly heroin, since his mid-20s.

“Drugs have been the road for me. Alcohol, don’t have much to do with it… Mum used to drink in younger years.”

Ben has experienced racism from service providers, businesses and the police.

“I get the looks from different people… when serviced behind counter. The way they chuck the money at you. They just categorise you. And taxi drivers. We just don’t catch Ubers…

The police, they pretty much judge you. The other day they were going to arrest me. I walked to see what was happening. They were arresting someone and told me to go away unless they will get me too.”

He has also experienced stigma for using other drugs, including from his family members.

“Once they know you are on drugs, they categorise you. People judge me. Family is the biggest thing. They judge you the most.”

Ben attended a drug treatment program at a clinic outside his community about six years ago. He completed it and was not using drugs for a short period, but he relapsed following a death in the family.

“A friend told me about (the clinic). It was a bit far but was really good. I completed the program. I was clean but ended up getting up on it.”

Ben hesitates to seek support for his drug use from the local Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health service. He now attends a counselling program at the mainstream ATODs service every few months. He wants the ATODs services to be ‘more hands on’.

“It’s good that the ATODs is not at the (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health service). I don’t want the (Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander health service) to find out. But they (ATODs) can do more with connection and follow-up, more hands-on.”

Ben has received support from friends and family, but believes that self-realisation is the most effective driver for change.

“Family tried to help before but it’s up to the individual. I can’t be told what to do.”

Ben has decided to stop using drugs so that he can care for and support his children. 

“I am the leader of the family. I have to put a good example, otherwise it will go downhill.

I am the oldest. That responsibility I didn’t think (about) before, didn’t care about it, but now I do. I tell my kids the bad things about it (heroin). They’ve seen me… I’m trying to get my family out of it altogether.”

Ben’s priorities are reinstating his driver’s licence and finding a job. He is finding some difficulty in accessing services and ‘cutting through’ because his current name is different to the name listed in his birth certificate.

“I need to change the name in my documents to get it same with birth certificate. It’s a big process. I’ve been living with this name all my life and it’s not the right name…

I want to get my licence and get another job. No one is going to help me. I got to do it by myself.”