Although standard house design for Aboriginal housing has removed the stigma of inferior 'transitional housing' it has created other problems because it does not cater for different Aboriginal household structure and domestic activity - e.g larger families, three generational households, greater use of the kitchen than the lounge as communal space, 'sleeping out' on verandahs etc (Department of
with all utilities (see Figure 3.1), though some of them were in very poor repair. With few exceptions the houses were rented, the Housing Commission of New South Wales, KLALC and the Ngaku Cooperative being the major landowners. Five Aboriginal families were purchasing their homes with loans provided by the ADC (ADC pers comm) and there was one known private rental. The low level of private rental reflected not only the generally prohibitive cost of renting on the private market, but also
the difficulties experienced by Aborigines seeking tenancy of private dwellings.
Housing Commission was the largest landlord, with houses allocated both through Housing for Aborigines (HFA) and general Housing Commission (HC) programs. Satisfaction with the Housing Commission as a landlord was generally high, since repairs were usually attended to quite promptly and everyone knew that they had to pay the rent or risk eviction. On
the other hand there had been widespread complaints about both Ngaku and KLALC as landlord bodies.
Ngaku was in grave financial circumstances in 1985 as a result of financial mismanagement, uncollected rental and a $20,000 plus debt to the Shire Council for unpaid rates. Ngaku tenants who regularly paid their rent resented the rent defaulters and there was a tendency for . payers to stop paying, especially when requests for repairs and
maintenance were not satisfied. In 1986 the Shire Council was considering the forced sale of some of Ngaku's assets to cover its debts.
and a $35,000 plus rate debt to the Kempsey Shire Council. In order to help rationalise their financial management, after their funds were frozen because they did not satisfy the requirements of the NSW government auditor (see below), KLALC took the unusual step of sub contracting their property management to L.J.Hooker (Real Estate Agents). While such a step clearly ran counter to the principals of Aboriginal self-management, it was welcomed by many of the tenants. Their support was motivated by the fact that not only were they now assured that everyone would have to pay their rent (previously the source of anxiety for the regular payers, who also considered defaulting) but also requests for repairs and maintenance would be promptly attended. L.J. Hooker also appointed a co-ordinator who was outwardly polite to the tenants, though it was widely held that he was in fact 'prejudice towards the Blacks'.
It will be recalled from chapter two that the relocation of Burnt Bridge Aborigines was fiercely resisted by a vocal and politically active
sector of the white community, so the move to town brought with it many new pressures as well as many of the old ones. People typically had little control over when and where they would be housed, or who their neighbours would be. Dispersal, built into the policy of assimilation, was reflected in the location of Aboriginal households in the town. That this may have had some social cost is reflected in Kamien's (1978) observation that depression amongst Aboriginal women (in Bourke) was significantly increased if they had two white neighbours.
The state, through the Commissioner for Housing, also maintained coercive power over Aborigines by determining who was 'suitable' for relocation to a new house (Morris 1986). Suitability was determined
96 according to the values of the dominant society. Not only behavioural characteristics such as hygiene standards and budgeting ability were taken into account but the very structure of the Aboriginal family was at issue since the commission's policy was to house individual family units.
Family size does not matter, but the commission discourages permanent overcrowding because it is unhealthy and causes undue damage to the house. A tenant can apply for a larger house on the case of a permanent increase in the size of a family.
Families can still accommodate extra residents for limited periods such as school holidays, family crises, or other temporary circumstances (cited in Morris 1986:293).
It was clear to me that these restrictions on occupancy were however, frequently ignored. This generated considerable anxiety and subterfuge for some tenants as they struggled to fulfil their obligations to kin while at the same time preserving their own tenancy.
Morris (1986) has cogently described the importance of public space in Aboriginal social relations which, he argues, was a feature of
Aboriginal social life which pre-dated, but was reinforced by,
segregation and institutionalisation on stations and reserves. The move to (dispersed) town housing had had, he argues, a profound effect on the nature of public and private space. Whereas the public domain was the social domain on the reserve, the public domain in the town had become
'the domain of the stranger' (Morris 1986:292). Sociality was no
longer centred around the external hearth but confined to internal
domestic space, in keeping with the mores of the dominant society. This was highlighted by the continued use of public space (roads, yards, vacant lots etc) at Greenhill and Burnt Bridge, where congregations of Aborigines in the public domain were still a feature of daily life, in stark contrast to the town environs.
Aboriginal householders seemed to have adjusted in different ways to the animosity of their white neighbours. Some had retreated into the
internal space of their domestic environment, avoiding at all costs exposure to white neighbours, to the point where they made little use of
the external space surrounding their houses. 'Shame' seemed to be one of the primary determinants of this. They avoided being observed by whites and visitors tended to retreat rapidly inside their host's house,
taking leave with equal expediency. Others put themselves aggressively on display, noisily interacting inside and outside, in defiant rejection of the prejudice they felt existed in the minds of white observers. A third and small but significant group appeared to have adjusted to town life and lived socially distant from but cordially beside their white neighbours. 'I got wonderful neighbours. I can't complain.'
The invasions of privacy that characterised reserve life - management surveillance, inspections of the houses and total police freedom to enter reserve and station homes - had largely but not totally been removed. Landlords in the town, especially the Commissioner for
Housing, still made inspections of their properties, though this was not frequent enough to be seen by Aborigines as harassment, and welfare officers called to evaluate domestic conditions.
White visits to Aboriginal homes in Kempsey were almost always in an official capacity since social interaction between whites and blacks in each others homes was virtually nonexistent. Many town householders were extremely anxious about the impression of cleanliness their homes created to white visitors, an anxiety which had a direct bearing on the conduct of my research (see chapter four). As noted earlier, this may have been a legacy of the days when 'dirty' and 'blackfella' were
conjoined terms in white discourse about and to Aborigines (Morris 1986). It may also have been a result of the fact that poor living conditions were taken as evidence of neglect, on which grounds Aboriginal children could be removed from their families and
institutionalised by the state. Furthermore, assimilation training, both in institutions and on APB stations, was intensely focused on hygiene and domestic cleanliness (see for example Edwards 1982). My gradual acceptance into households where repeated home visits were made was often quite clearly marked by a general relaxation in standards of
tidiness and cleanliness. I was asked inside even though the breakfast table had not been cleared away or the laundry completed.
Greenhill: This settlement lies on the northwest perimeter of Kempsey beyond the visual catchment of the town (see Map 2). It is the site of the old Aboriginal camp. The land and houses were owned by the KLALC and there were two additional households in shacks and caravans on vacant land adjacent to the main settlement.
When KLALC took over control of the Greenhill reserve from the Lands Trust there were already substantial rental arrears which the KLALC decided to waive in 1984 to allow everyone to 'make a fresh start'.
Since that time few tenants had paid any rent and rental reports for the period February 1984 to March 1985 showed rental arrears of $34,000. The issue of rental for these houses was problematic. The residents maintained that they had lived in the houses for so long that, now they had title to the land and houses (albeit through the KLALC), they should not have to pay any rental. The amounts levied were however only
As a consequence of rental default the KLALC owed the Kempsey Shire Council over $35,000 in unpaid rates by mid 1985. Because of the provisions of the Land Rights Act the land at Greenhill is inalienable Aboriginal land, so the Shire could not sell any of it to recover the debt, which was the usual procedure in such cases. One of the proposals for a resolution of this problem was for individual households to be given leases and thus be directly responsible, both to the Shire for payment of rates and for their own maintenance and repairs. However, this ran counter to the ideology of black collectivity and meant the relinquishing of control by the KLALC executive and was not adopted. An ADC field officer believed that part of the problem was in the use of
the word 'rental' with respect to the rates charges, since people resented the idea of paying rent for dilapidated dwellings they felt rightly belonged to them.
Most of the houses at Greenhill were the original ones that were built in the 1960s by the AWB; timber cottages which were badly in need of replacement (Figure 3.3). They were small, cold in the winter and hot in the summer and had only had hot water systems installed in the previous five or six years. Water was from town supply piped to the houses and sewerage had been connected at construction. Little or no maintenance or repairs had been done since the KLALC took over, partly because the houses so clearly needed to be replaced. Three of them were replaced with modern brick houses in 1985 (Figures 3.4 and 3.5), using the Aboriginal Builders Labourers Apprentice Scheme building team, at the start of what was to be a major rehousing development at Greenhill. However, funding through the ADC was suspended because the KLALC failed to satisfy the requirements of the government auditors and the building program was suspended.
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101
102
Figure 3.5. New house at Greenhill showing the Aboriginal Builders' Labourers Apprenticeship Scheme notice.
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The Durri Aboriginal Medical Service (Figure 3.6) was situated at Greenhill. This had had some effect on who controlled the Service, through its Board of Directors, and was not considered ideal by some members of the community. During the major review of Durri AMS by DAA, following its closure in 1986, the possibility of relocating a new
9
service in the town gained quite widespread approval. Also located at
Greenhill was the preschool funded by the Save the Children Fund.
Burnt Bridge: Burnt Bridge lies to the south-west about 2 km from the southern border of the town. It is divided by Euroka creek (see Map 2).
(i) Old Burnt Bridge. It lies to the west of Euroka Creek, and was accessible by an unsealed road which usually remained passable all year round. The farms established by Aboriginal families in the late 19th century (Morris 1986) were located at Old Burnt Bridge. In 1985 it was inhabited by four extended household groups, two of whom were
descendants of the original farming families. DAETC had freehold title to the land and two new houses were built there in 1985. They had electricity, rainwater tanks (said to be an interim measure until the area is serviced) and septic tank sanitation systems. The remainder of the residents lived in one older house, several rudimentary dwellings made of timber and corrugated iron (some with earthen floors) (Figures 3.2 and 3.7 ) and old caravans. Electricity was connected to some of the dwellings but with the exception of the old house they shared one cold water tap connected to town supply. Sanitary pans were used for sanitation.
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A re-organised medical service did in fact re-open in the town in 1987.
The DAETC had a planned residential development for a further 6 houses at Old Burnt Bridge, which in 1985 was awaiting rezoning approval. In 1985, DAETC were paid up to the Shire Council for rates which they collected from their members and consequently they were eligible for further funding through the ADC. The community was overwhelmingly dependent on welfare payments with only one person in part-time employment. Although DAETC was one of the major political factions involved in the conflict over New Burnt Bridge and Durri Aboriginal Medical Service and had had repeated disputes with both the ADC and DAA over funding they seemed to enjoy a fair degree of internal harmony. The collection of rates for Old Burnt Bridge, which they organised
themselves was clearly effective and there appeared to be an active consultative network amongst members. The subsequent death of two of the senior and most influential members of the community however, may have had an impact both on their internal cohesion and their political activism.
The politicisation of the residents of Old Burnt Bridge derives much of its energy from the bitter resentment felt by the older residents
regarding the revocation of reserve land and the forced expulsion of the original farming families. In the minds of some, these wrongs have yet to be redressed.
(ii) New Burnt Bridge: It lies to the east of Euroka Creek and is the site of the old Aboriginal Welfare Board station (Map 2). In local parlance it is commonly called 'the mission' which refers to the
presence there of the Australian Inland Mission before the APB installed a manager in 1937. Aborigines have lived at New Burnt Bridge for over eighty years, originally as 'campers' across the creek from the
Aboriginal farms (Goodall 1982).
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As a result of the conflicts described above housing development at New Burnt Bridge had ceased and the residents continued to live under
appalling conditions. The road was rough and impassable in the vet. The one nev house vas in good condition and had electricity, tovn vater supply and septic tank sanitation. Tvo vandalised partially completed houses stood empty nearby. The ex-managers house at the entrance to Nev Burnt Bridge vas occupied but in need of demolition. The remainder of the residents lived in makeshift huts of vood and iron and had pan
toilets vhich the residents had to empty themselves. A fev have
electricity connected, although for one household connection consisted of an enormous extension lead trailing yards across the often muddy ground to a vashing machine vhich stood uncovered in the open. There vere abandoned motor vehicles and shacks amongst the bush, and mounds of garbage beside some of the dvellings. Some had kerosene refrigeration and lighting and cooking vas done over an open (internal) fireplace. In
the summer, vhen the rainvater tanks vere dry, vater had to be
transported from tovn in drums on the back of a truck. Severe health and social problems and heavy drinking contributed to a deteriorating situation at Nev Burnt Bridge.
Householders living in substandard dvellings and vithout permits of various kinds vere still subject to harassment by Health Inspectors and Council officials. In 1986 a family left their home in tovn vhen their household broke up after protracted conflict. They purchased a caravan and moved it onto a block of land at Old burnt Bridge vhich vas ovned by a relative. They did not hovever, have a residential permit and one day the Council arrived, unannounced, to tov the caravan avay. Somebody vas
home at the time and resisted the removal. Following this incident they never left the caravan unattended and lived in constant anxiety that they would lose their home.
Housing, social conditions and social relations: While place of residence and housing standards are quite clearly linked, the relationship between place of residence and social problems was somewhat blurred. Living conditions at Burnt Bridge are generally
appalling and drinking, violence and anti-white sentiments characterised the community at New Burnt Bridge. However, there were also a
significant number of non-drinkers at both Old and New Burnt Bridge and some of the most respected community leaders lived there. Living
conditions at Greenhill are also quite poor and there were severe drinking problems in some households, but the level of social distress varied enormously, as it did in the town where living conditions are generally much better. It is apparent therefore that improvements in living conditions per se have not necessarily relieved the social distress which have characterised the community in the past.
Social interaction and kin ties between residents of the three different areas also contribute to a blurring of distinctions between them.
Greenhill was the site not only of Durri AMS, which attracted a
considerable daily traffic, but also of the womens' card games, played daily under the trees on vacant land adjoining Durri, and the
fortnightly two-up games. Some card games were also played at New Burnt Bridge but these tended to attract different participants since there were people who never went 'out to the mission' and did not associate with it any way, partly because of its reputation for drinking and violence.
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It can be seen that the residential patterns, land tenure and housing conditions of Aborigines in Kempsey are the result of historical
processes over which Aborigines had had little real control. To a
considerable extent the problems experienced with housing development and rental collection have to do with the fact that Aborigines believe
they have been fraudulently dispossessed of their land. This was exacerbated by bureaucratic perceptions of which Aboriginal
organisations were most fit to receive government housing funds. In