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Forthcoming
Introduction

As an oral historian I have come to understand that every person has a story to tell and for some it is the story of their own life. To tell their own story well all anybody really needs is a good listener, one who listens for long enough with genuine empathy. The speaker becomes more and more articulate (and I don’t mean big words) and enters deeper and deeper into the story and through their words comes their own wisdom. Sometimes the spontaneity of their words surprises even themselves.

For me, oral history is essentially the art of listening with a generosity of spirit, which allows each person to struggle to tell their story with dignity.

When we enter the world of oral history we are entering the world of memory. What is memory? How does it work? And how does memory affect the notion of truth?

Oral history is important because it records the unofficial or subtle history of the world as distinct from received official history, which is largely the history of men’s power struggles and men’s wars.

This subtle history tells the lives of the people. It is precious because it truly paints a picture of the times we live in: the traditions, the culture. It fosters respect for the way people speak: the rhythms, the colloquialisms, the turns of phrase that characterise a particular people at a particular time.

Oral history shines a light on general attitudes of the time and on shifting attitudes over time.

This oral history of Marjorie Oke Rooming House for Women shines a light on individual lives but also shows us society’s changing attitudes between the 1950s and the year 2000, from a time when single women had their newborn babies taken away from them for adoption to a time when even the most marginalized women are offered support and shelter in a comfortable rooming house.
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There is a big red brick house in Station St in Fairfield. It used to be owned by MacPherson Robertson who made his fame and fortune in chocolates. It is strange that a house built on so much sweet sugar and cocoa would over time house so much sadness and pain.

In 1892, after purchasing several lots of land from the Fairfield Park Estate, the confectioner MacPherson Robertson built Carmalea as his family home. Carmalea’s real importance lies in the history and lives of the women who lived there during its various incarnations as Maternity Home, Refuge and Rooming House.

In 1927 a Dr Georgina Sweet approached the Central Methodist Mission for suggestions as to an appropriate way to use the money left to her by her father. A Maternity Home was suggested and the Mission purchased the home of MacPherson Robertson for this purpose. The home opened in 1922 under the name: ‘The Central Mission Girls Memorial Home.’

The Mission’s 1922 Annual Report said:

The purpose of this home is to help girls who, having been wronged, or tempted to mistake, and consequent trouble, have still their better nature uppermost, and if given timely aid and sympathy, will turn their faces again to the path of virtue and goodness.

In Challenge of the City, the Centenary History of Wesley Central Mission 1893-1993 by Renate Howe and Sharlee Swaine we read accounts of the house after its establishment:

The Girl’s Memorial Home, in particular, found it difficult to keep pace with social change. Behind the public facade, the House had always presented a far less positive image than its founders would have hoped.

The twenty-five women living together in the large dormitories were aware of society’s judgement of their plight and saw it being reinforced in the Home’s operation. In their late teens and early twenties, most came to the Home in the later stages of their pregnancy. Steps were taken to disguise both their names and their place of residence so that their ‘secret’ would be preserved. The babies were delivered at the Women’s Hospital and, in the early years, mothers were expected to return to the Home to establish breastfeeding, whether or not the baby was to be adopted.

After visiting the Home in 1936, a local doctor felt moved to write to the Mission to express his concern:


‘I regret to have to state that the atmosphere of the whole place at present is a reflection on a religious institution, the girls are miserable, look underfed and over-worked, and the babies show obvious signs of neglect. The girls are obliged to get up at 5 am to do the laundry and are kept going all day. I saw girls today with babies only 10 days old forced to be up and about. I am and have been willing at any time to attend to the girls or babies, but I find that my instructions with regard to rest and diet are rarely if ever carried out.’

His observations reflect more on the nature of the Home than on its administration. Whatever the rhetoric, the girls knew that this was a place of punishment. ‘It was the way we were treated,’ one resident recalled:

‘Like we had committed a dreadful crime... Your names were changed for a start – so nobody would know who you were... at first I thought it was rather funny and then I realised it wasn’t funny at all... You were rostered onto doing duties and it seemed that some of the duties were the cruelest when you were feeling the worst.’

This perception was intensified when the home became entangled in the adoption market. Initially such arrangements were made by the Sisters. Later the Girls’ Memorial Home became a supplier to the Methodist Babies’ Home. Prospective parents wanted only the ‘best’ babies. Girls were preferred to boys and mothers who produced the most desirable babies were pressured to relinquish, a process which inevitably was painful. Babies who failed to make the grade posed an embarrassment as the Girls’ Memorial Home had no ready outlet for the unadoptable.

By the 1970s community attitudes towards single mothers were changing and the demand for the services of the Girls’ Home decreased. The Mission began considering alternative uses for its Fairfield property and in 1973 it became ‘Georgina House’ – a women’s refuge and emergency accommodation. Rhoda Sheffield, who had been attached to Lifeline, was asked to set up the new service. She later recalled:

They just came flooding in... The big majority were battered wives running away from their husbands... We took anybody that was in need of a home, except men. We found that we could not deal with alcoholics, they just upset the place to such an extent that we had to say no... Yet we could deal with people who were on drugs.

(Challenge of the City, p. 174)

By the mid-eighties tensions were being felt between the co-ordinators, of the refuge and the Wesley Central Mission, resulting in the Refuge separating from the Mission and establishing itself independently at other premises under the name ‘Georgina Refuge’ and the Fairfield property entered into its present stage as a Rooming House for Women.

The naming of the rooming house was decided through much discussion, and the Interim Management Group was delighted when Marjorie Oke, a local resident, identity and long-time activist for women’s rights, agreed to have the new rooming house named after her. Marjorie was an active member of the Interim Management Group. In January 1990, the first tenants moved into the Marjorie Oke Rooming House for Women.

The Interim Management Group and subsequent Committee of Management included Ann Gluth, Judy Morrison, Mary Reis, Jacinta McManaman, Marjorie Oke, Julie Nelson, Nick Grahonja, Merrilee Cox, Gail Hannah and Deirdre Lloyd and Helen Duffy (residents).
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The history of the house is the history of the women who have lived and worked there. This book tells the stories of some of the women whose lives were touched by the big red brick house on Station St, which has come to be known as Marjorie Oke Rooming House for Women.

I am deeply indebted to the women who told me their stories with such honesty, courage and humour.

Certain names and places have been changed to protect the privacy of the women.

Rhonda Wilson

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