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.
~
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).
~
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