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Intersections of disability and race in police brutality cases

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Intersections of disability and race in police brutality cases

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https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2020/jun/09/sandra-bland-eric-garner-freddie-gray-the-toll-of-police-violence-on-disabled-americans

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Sandra Bland, Eric Garner, Freddie Gray: the toll of police violence on disabled Americans

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More than a third of Americans killed by police have a disability. It’s time to listen to black and disabled activists

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zeKHOTDwZxU

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Decolonising the Curriculum | Melz Owusu | TEDxUniversityofLeeds

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https://www.instagram.com/p/CAfa4F0AgqZ/?utm_source=ig_web_button_share_sheet

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Munroe on Instagram: "Racism is not a black people problem, it is a white culture issue. Sexism is not a female problem, it is an issue with male dominated culture. Classism is not a poor people problem, it is a capitalism issue. Homophobia and transphobia aren't queer people problems, they are issues with cis straight post-colonial society.

In order to push forward, we need to shift the perspective of oppression being the problem of those who experience it. We need to acknowledge that privilege exists as a spectrum and is an indicator for where the work needs to take place. Expecting marginalized folk to be the ones to deconstruct their own oppression is as good as saying "not my problem" and letting it happen, as it doesn't acknowledge where the problem is coming from. The definition of privilege is thinking that something isn't a problem because it isn't YOUR problem.

The best thing about being part of so many minority groups, is that I'm plugged into so many incredible communities to draw my strength, inspiration and perspective from. But we need allies doing the work also.

White people, hold your own community accountable. Straight and cisgender people hold your own community accountable and bear in mind that you are also a community. Not the standard. Once we start to decolonise society's mindset and decentralise white, straight, cis and male as the standard. Then we can begin to work towards an equal world. But until then, assert your privilege. #whiteprivilege

Image content @courtneyahndesign @wetheurban @emmadabiri @ll_mckinney"

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93K likes, 821 comments - munroebergdorf on May 22, 2020: "Racism is not a black people problem, it is a white culture issue. Sexism is not a female problem..."

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Teaching Indigenous culture and history in our schools

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Teaching Indigenous culture and history in our schools

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https://www.abc.net.au/radionational/programs/lifematters/teaching-indigenous-culture-and-history-in-our-schools/12377652

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The days when school students were taught that Captain Cook "discovered" Australia may well be over, but are we providing students and their teachers with enough cultural knowledge to understand Australia's Indigenous past and future?

We look at how the teaching of Indigenous histories and cultures has changed over time.
Guests:
Dr Melitta Hogarth, Assistant Dean (Indigenous) at the Melbourne Graduate School of Education

Dr Louise Zarmati, Lecturer in Humanities and Social Sciences at the Faculty of Education, University of Tasmania

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Teaching Indigenous culture and history in our schools - ABC listen

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Are we providing students and teachers with enough knowledge to understand Australia's Indigenous past, present and future?

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Iranian Refugee Sues Commonwealth for Negligence

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Iranian Refugee Sues Commonwealth for Negligence

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https://www.abc.net.au/news/2021-04-06/iranian-refugee-payam-saadat-sues-commonwealth-for-negligence/100050668?fbclid=IwAR0HUJyDozXm-1Sm6JWaZRrx7PS-uDp2-lsZCrspkac9I6aPwuvXfkKeOHs

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Iranian refugee sues Commonwealth for negligence over five-year detention

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Payam Saadat’s case will act as a test for more than 60 former immigration detainees who were incarcerated during the Howard era.

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Refugee Who Lit Himself On Fire Charged With Suicide

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Refugee Who Lit Himself On Fire Charged With Suicide

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https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2019/jun/25/manus-island-asylum-seeker-who-set-himself-on-fire-to-be-charged-with-attempted-suicide?fbclid=IwAR2QwTANfy_9DlM5WVHl_b4EQOndibCe2CYr1yukP5bw6aGdQYKglt-FDgg

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The Papua New Guinea police will charge a man with arson and attempted suicide after he set fire to himself and his room at asylum seeker accomodation on Manus Island.

After initial treatment for burns to his face and hand, the 30-year-old man, who has been denied asylum, was taken to the police station and held overnight before he was evacuated to Port Moresby for further medical treatment.

"As soon as he returns back to Manus Island, police will have him charged accordingly," said the chief of Manus police, Inspector David Yapu.

Yapu said the man was discharged from the Pacific International hospital (PIH) medical clinic in the town of Lorengau on Friday, and then taken to the police station and interviewed.

"He admitted setting fire in his own room to burn himself. He spent a night in police custody and was to be charged for arson and attempted suicide but on the next day he was 'medevacced' to Port Moresby for further medical treatment."

Under the PNG criminal code, attempting suicide is considered a misdemeanour which carries a penalty of up to one year in prison. Arson carries a sentence of up to life in prison.

The incident occurred at Hillside Haus, one of three accomodation blocks in Lorengau housing hundreds of men following the closure of the detention centre in late 2017. Hillside Haus accommodates men whose asylum claims have been rejected.

According to one of the man's friends, prior to the fire the man locked himself in his room after allegedly being refused proper treatment at the PIH clinic. Inside he set fire to the room and himself, he said. His roommate at Hillside Haus said he assisted security guards in breaking down the door to get the man out.

The man's friend told Guardian Australia he had initially tried to visit the PIH clinic at Lorengau after the fire but was refused.

"I was waiting there for my bro for more than two hours but they don't let me see him," he said.

"They said he's under the treatment now so don't allow [me] to come inside ... I said, 'Can you explain why you guys giving him treatment now, where were you before [when] he was asking you for treatment'."

The two men eventually met at the local police station on Saturday, where he took a photograph showing severe burns on the side of his friend's face and ear, which Guardian Australia has seen.

"I spoke to him last night [and] he tells me he is in ICU [intensive care unit in Port Moresby]. He said 'I'm in pain, I can't talk to you much.'

"He said the whole body was burning from the inside. Vomiting occurs when I eat food [he said]. His burned face is also hurting [and] also has stitches in his stomach."

Yapu confirmed the injured man had been to the PIH clinic that morning, and had locked himself in his room on his return. He said the fire spread to two other rooms but no one else was injured.

Yapu said it was "frustrating" that this was the fourth deliberately lit fire at the accommodation blocks.

"Those buildings cost government a lot of money to build to accommodate the refugees and non-refugees and they should look after them until such time they leave PNG and resettle in the third country," said Yapu.

The injured man is one of several hundred men in PNG sent there by Australia under its offshore processing regime. Many have been there for more than six years, most of that time in detention. In recent months around 100 men have attempted suicide or self harmed, and both the Australian-contracted and PNG services are struggling to deal with the crisis which worsened after the Australian election.

Earlier this month PNG's paramilitary police unit, mobile squad, was deployed to the accommodation area in the hope their presence would reduce acts of self-harm.

Responding to an article about the mental health crisis, Yapu wrote on Facebook last month: "What more can our police officers do?"

"Attempts (sic) suicides, self-harm are beyond our control and part of system of depression related to long-term offshore detention, unknown future and families living away from them and result to severe mental illness."

PIH holds a $21.5m contract with the Australian government to provide healthcare to the refugees and asylum seekers but has come under intense criticism and scrutiny, including accusations it is referring patients to the severely under-resourced local Lorengau hospital.

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Manus Island asylum seeker who set himself on fire to be charged with attempted suicide

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The Papua New Guinea police will charge a man with arson and attempted suicide after he set fire to himself and his room at asylum seeker accomodation on Manus Island. After initial treatment for burns to his face and hand, the 30-year-old man, who has been denied asylum, was taken to the police station and held overnight before he was evacuated to Port Moresby for further medical treatment.

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https://www.theguardian.com/world/2018/jun/28/you-hate-us-that-much-mother-of-refugee-who-killed-himself-on-nauru-berates-australia?fbclid=IwAR07cWIRnrEkrjAOjqQ0qMXFBFLhj14G3OR8-PHvLwdWmUTKROg0PEepb8s

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The mother of Fariborz Karami, the Iranian asylum seeker who died by suicide on Nauru two weeks ago, has pleaded with the Australian Border Force to give her son's body back so she can bury him "anywhere but Nauru or Iran".

In an excoriating letter written to the ABF, Fazileh Mansour Beigi blames those who held her son on Nauru for his long mental decline and ultimate suicide.

"For five years you incarcerated me and my innocent children in Nauru and ignored us. I know that your violence and cruelty is deeply rooted and against that I am a powerless woman. You even deprived me from having a mobile phone, lest I speak up? But I always told you if any harm befell my children, I wouldn't remain silent," she has written.

"My 26-year-old son had his last breaths in your mouldy tents and closed his beautiful eyes to your abomination, injustice, and disgusting policies."

In the lead-up to her son's death, Mansour Beigi repeatedly pleaded for help for her two sons, arguing they were severely depressed and in danger. Just two days before Karami's death, his mother wrote to camp manager Canstruct, contracted by the Australian government to run the regional processing centre, warning that "if my kids and I get worse, you will be responsible".

Part of Mansour Beigi's letter to the ABF in which she warned that 'if any harm befell my children, I wouldn't remain silent.'

Karami, whose initial claim for protection had been rejected, had recently married a refugee on Nauru. On the morning of 15 June, he was found unconscious by a family member in the tent he lived in inside the Australian-run regional processing centre. He could not be revived.

Mansour Beigi, who, in the wake of her son's suicide, is on "high watch" and monitored by guards 24 hours a day everywhere she goes, says she wants to bury her eldest child as soon as possible, but not in Nauru or their homeland Iran. But Mansour Beigi says too, she is consumed by fears for the health and future of her youngest child, 12-year-old Ali, who, doctors have said, is at acute mental health risk and should be moved from the island.

An autopsy has been completed on Karami's body, but his mother says she has been told it could be three months before she is told its findings, and her son's body is released to her for burial.

Karami's wife is on a hunger strike, drinking only water. She is sleeping outside the connex container where her husband's body is being kept.

Mansour Beigi has given permission for Guardian Australia to publish her letter in full.

Hello my oppressors and heartless prison officers,

Hello again ABF,

Do you know me? I am the same suffering and miserable mother who repeatedly begged you to help. Frequently, I implored you to assist me. An ill mother who could not stand to see her children in this situation any more. Often, I told you and I wrote to you that my sons are depressed and exhausted 'please help a sick and feeble mother'. But, instead of support, you replied that if I couldn't tolerate it, I should return to my country.

Again I made a complaint to you and I wrote that after five years facing torture, I am not able to go back to my country. I asked you to please upgrade our tent as it might change my kids' mood. Again you ignored me.

For five years you incarcerated me and my innocent children in Nauru and ignored us. I know that your violence and cruelty is deeply rooted and against that I am a powerless woman. You even deprived me from having a mobile phone, lest I speak up? But I always told you if any harm befell my children, I wouldn't remain silent.

Since Friday, you have kept my son's corpse in IHMS's fridge, to look for his murderer? Since then, have you not smelled your own hands? My 26-year-old son had his last breaths in your mouldy tents and closed his beautiful eyes to your abomination, injustice, and disgusting policies. You even hesitate to provide him a bottle of cold water.

For five years, you tortured his athletic body under deadly heat. Now, you confiscated his dead body and keep him in a cold place. You don't allow me to bury him and entrust him to eternal peace with his beautiful face and body.

I doubt if you are human! Where in the world would they keep a young corpse in the fridge for long time, inside a connex [container] near a place his mother is living? Are you even scared of our dead bodies? Do you hate us that much that you are afraid of us alive or dead? You still disrespect us.

I prop myself up until I bury my son's body with respect otherwise all the world is meaningless for me and not worthy even to breathe. If you don't want to have another corpse, lying next to my son, as soon as possible give me written permission to bury him anywhere except Nauru and Iran.

Fariborz's mournful mother,

Fazileh Mansour Beigi

Slaughterhouse and torture house of Nauru

24/6/2018

In response to a series of questions regarding Karami, a spokesman for the Australian department of home affairs told Guardian Australia: "These are matters for the Nauruan authorities".

Karami's body remains refrigerated on the grounds of the regional processing centre, which is run by contractors to the Australian government, and is under Australian control. Guardian Australia has put questions to the Nauru government.

In Australia, the crisis support service Lifeline is 13 11 14. In the UK, Samaritans can be contacted on 116 123. In the US, the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is 1-800-273-8255. Other international suicide helplines can be found at befrienders.org

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'You hate us that much?' Mother of refugee who killed himself on Nauru berates Australia

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The mother of Fariborz Karami, the Iranian asylum seeker who died by suicide on Nauru two weeks ago, has pleaded with the Australian Border Force to give her son's body back so she can bury him "anywhere but Nauru or Iran".

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Why Are Trans Women Jailed In Male Prisons?

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Why Are Trans Women Jailed In Male Prisons?

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https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-07-03/why-are-transgender-women-jailed-in-mens-prisons-in-australia/12416562?fbclid=IwAR1omFXzQPqA_vdIE7aJnSjhOjuKlNJPmqbmU728nmZuCB1lim1l3TU-xAY

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Why are transgender women jailed in men’s prisons around Australia?

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Trans women are being sent to men’s prisons in some parts of Australia. But who decides where trans people are sent? Where is safest for them? And will there be changes to the way prison authorities treat trans and gender diverse prisoners?

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'The Australian' Has Reached A New Low With Its Dedication To Demonising Trans People

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'The Australian' Has Reached A New Low With Its Dedication To Demonising Trans People

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https://junkee.com/the-australian-transgender/217684?

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Benjamin Law is calling on readers of The Australian to unsubscribe, saying he'll donate to The Gender Centre for each person who does.

If you thought mainstream media coverage of transgender issues couldn't sink any lower, think again. Over the weekend, The Australian announced a new page on its website solely dedicated to its coverage of news affecting trans people, and it's really quite shit.

The new page is technically titled "gender issues", suggesting a broader remit, but don't let that fool you. The Australian's Bernard Lane introduced the new section on Twitter as a page dedicated to "trans nation: the gender debate" (honestly find me a trans nation where I can go and live free of The Australian's drivel), and all but one of the 18 articles currently listed on the page are about transgender people.

Trans nation: the gender debate - you'll find The Australian's exclusive news reports & independent commentary on this new dedicated page - https://t.co/3HSSdX1Ri3 @australian #AusPol #FreeSpeech

- Bernard Lane (@Bernard_Lane) August 8, 2019

Shockingly, the majority are not flattering to trans people. Many are blatant fearmongering, spreading misinformation under headlines like "Transgender project 'out of balance'", "Sex not a matter of belief", "Corrupting kids' thinking", and, incredibly, "They're castrating children" (they're not).

There are also a fair few articles dedicated to just repeating Scott Morrison's ill-informed comments about trans people ("PM lashes 'mystifying' policy that ensures transgender people can play cricket at highest level", "The PM says a rule ensuring transgender people can play at the highest level is "a sledgehammer").

This is not going down well with the LGBTIQ community, who continue to point out that fearmongering coverage about transgender people has serious consequences for transgender people - in particular trans kids, who face alarming rates of suicide and depression.

did you guys somehow run out of racial minorities to vilify

- thomas violence (@thomas_violence) August 10, 2019

Bernard, when the trans teens that I talk to every day come to me and ask why people are angry at them, threaten them with homelessness and abuse them, this is the kind of content that instigates it.

I'm too disappointed and sad about this to be angry. Because I'm tired.

- Joan A. Westenberg (@Jonwestenberg) August 10, 2019

THREAD
As part of their relentless war on trans kids, The Australian this morning are now trying the argument that "girlie boys" and "tom boys" and diagnosed trans

That's not it THATS WHY I WROTE THIS BOOK https://t.co/lkL6fZvxm4

- Jo Hirst (@thegenderfairy1) August 11, 2019

Writer Benjamin Law has gone a step further, encouraging people to unsubscribe from The Australian over the issue, and promising to donate to The Gender Centre, an organisation supporting trans youth, on behalf of anyone who unsubscribes this month.

"Despicable: the Australian has now set up a dedicated page to demonise and spread misinformation about trans and gender-variant youth," Law wrote on Twitter. "Promoting fringe anti-trans extremists while campaigning against medical experts and kids hospitals. Struggling to think of anything lower."

Despicable: the @australian has now set up a dedicated page to demonise and spread misinformation about trans and gender-variant youth.

Promoting fringe anti-trans extremists while campaigning against medical experts and kids hospitals.

Struggling to think of anything lower. https://t.co/UPJAb40Pd0

- Benjamin Law 羅旭能 (@mrbenjaminlaw) August 10, 2019

In August, if you unsubscribe-or get someone to unsubscribe-from the @australian, I'll donate $36 (the cost of a monthly sub) to @thegendercentre who do vital work supporting local trans youth.

Provide proof of unsubscription in the replies and I'll donate on Aug 31. 🌈 (1 of 2)

- Benjamin Law 羅旭能 (@mrbenjaminlaw) August 11, 2019

The Australian, of course, insists that it is being perfectly balanced: this morning, Bernard Lane shared an article headlined "They're castrating children" with a tweet asking "How did we get to a point where it's dangerous for clinicians to question risky medical treatment for gender-confused kids?". The answer to that question is that we haven't: clinicians are perfectly free to question risky medical treatments for kids, although that is somewhat beside the point given that "risky medical treatment" is not typically offered to trans kids.

How did we get to a point where it's dangerous for clinicians to question risky medical treatment for gender-confused kids? Jennifer Oriel explains. https://t.co/XkJv92gBUz @australian #health #AusPol

- Bernard Lane (@Bernard_Lane) August 11, 2019

We've fact-checked this bullshit before, which is what The Australian should have done before publishing that story. In short, the kinds of treatment options offered to kids are typically small and reversible steps towards transition, led by what the child has expressed a desire for. Those options might include supportive counselling, perhaps supporting the child to try out different clothes, or a different name and pronouns at school.

Older children may be offered medication to temporarily delay puberty (once again, a reversible option), which is intended to give that child more time to decide whether they would like to proceed with a physical transition. This is the opposite of castrating children.

The Australian's latest nonsense also comes after a study published by researchers at Victoria University last week found that News Corp newspapers, including The Australian, have emboldened the far right with their coverage. According to the study, far-right groups successfully used things like The Australian's negative coverage of the LGBTIQ anti-bullying program Safe Schools as recruitment tools.

That should give pause for thought. Instead, The Australian is out here spreading blatant, harmful lies about trans and gender diverse people. Enough, already.

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'The Australian' Has Reached A New Low With Its New Dedication To Demonising Trans People

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Benjamin Law is calling on readers of The Australian to unsubscribe, saying he'll donate to The Gender Centre for each person who does. If you thought mainstream media coverage of transgender issues couldn't sink any lower, think again.

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What Happens When An Abused Woman Fights Back

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What Happens When An Abused Woman Fights Back

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https://www.abc.net.au/news/2019-07-30/the-women-behind-bars-breaching-domestic-violence-order/11330408?nw=0&fbclid=IwAR1JF2ku_DUB83FnzGrU8vv7CKUUGyiWellKIoSqYlP1OBdxaR-PrGsPl84

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Space to play or pause, M to mute, left and right arrows to seek, up and down arrows for volume.

Annie breached a domestic violence protection order by stabbing her partner

More women in Queensland are being imprisoned for breaching domestic violence orders, sometimes with serious assaults. But if a significant proportion are victims themselves, as experts say, where are things going so wrong?

It wasn't until she was walking into the Brisbane Women's Correctional Centre last year, hands in cuffs, that Annie* fully realised the seriousness of the situation she was in.

The events of the past week - images of the knife, the blood, so much blood - came flooding back as a prison officer instructed her to turn to the left, then back to the front, snapping her mugshot with two quick clicks.

"I thought, what the hell am I doing here?" she told ABC News, six months after she was arrested and charged for breaching a domestic violence protection order by stabbing her partner.

What police had failed to recognise, though, was that Annie had been a victim of unrelenting abuse at the hands of her partner David* for several years. During the time they were together before she attacked him - a crime for which she was charged and released on bail after spending several months in custody - she called police for help with his sexual and physical violence 19 times.

Somewhere along the way, she said, she came to believe that no-one was going to take her complaints seriously, make him stop.

Family and domestic violence support services:

Her experience, experts say, is part of a disturbing trend of female victims of domestic violence ending up in prison after contravening protection orders made against them.

New data obtained exclusively by ABC News shows the number of female defendants in Queensland who have been sentenced to a term of imprisonment for breaching an order has more than doubled in the past five years, fuelling an alarming increase in the number of women behind bars, and raising complex questions about how the law treats women who respond to men's abuse with violence of their own.

Some women victims with DVOs against them in Queensland - at least six between 2011 and 2016 - have also been killed by their partner or committed suicide. And, as the state urgently seeks solutions to the population explosion, Aboriginal women are bearing the brunt of it.

For Annie, it had all unravelled so quickly. A softly-spoken woman with a stylish haircut and, when we meet in Southport one overcast afternoon, meticulously-applied makeup, Annie had met David a few years earlier on a dating website.

She was still recovering from the break-up of her previous marriage, but David was sweet and charming and she was tired of being on her own. Not long after they got together, she moved into his handsome home on the Gold Coast.

But domestic bliss it was not: David was jealous and controlling almost from the beginning, Annie said, and hated her having anything to do with other men. He'd regularly trawl through her phone, hunting for "evidence" of the affairs he accused her of having, and tore pages out of her address book to stop her from calling male friends.

He drank heavily most days, which she said made him angrier and more prone to sudden outbursts. Annie learnt to tip-toe around him, to withdraw and submit - anything to avoid being called a "f***ing c**t", shoved against a wall or smothered with a cushion in one of his rages.

She called police on several occasions; one time, after David had pushed her over, they eventually took out a protection order against him, requiring him to be of good behaviour and not commit domestic violence. But despite the odd bunch of flowers and moments of peace, his abuse only escalated, and soon he was demanding sex every evening.

It was easier, Annie said, to put up with it and "get it over with" than tell him no and start an argument.

She drank heavily, too, to numb the emotional pain, to mourn the loss of her confidence and self-worth. She also struggled with suicidal thoughts. "I couldn't move out because I had nowhere else to go," she said. "I felt like my options were to just take it, to be submissive all the time, or kill myself."

'It was his turn to feel the pain'

One night Annie took a kitchen knife to bed with her, and slid it under her pillow, feeling afraid of what David might do next. After she thought he had passed out next to her, she got up and, clutching the blade, walked around to his side of the room.

She can't explain exactly why she briefly stood over him; she just wanted to feel some sense of control, she said, to imagine feeling as powerful as he must - to think that she could hurt him if she wanted. And then he opened his eyes.

"He wasn't supposed to wake up," she said. "I was never going to do anything ... but he got up, and we struggled, and he grabbed the knife and it cut his hand."

David was straight on the phone to police, claiming Annie had tried to kill him - she had, after all, been standing over him with a knife. His domestic violence order had expired, he was nursing a bloody injury, and Annie was unable to persuade the officers who attended that she hadn't deliberately done it.

They took out another protection order, she said, this time naming her as the respondent.

Annie was devastated: for years the man she longed to trust, and be trusted by, had tormented and abused her and left her cowering in corners in fear. How could it be that, all of a sudden, she was the perpetrator?

Their relationship, by this point, was badly fractured, and things were tense. Still, there were calm days, Annie said, and on one "reasonably good day" last year, they sat outside at home, sharing a few drinks.

Having gone inside for a few minutes, Annie returned to find David scrolling through her phone: he was furious, she said, because he'd found messages from a male friend, whom she'd organised to meet. "And he just lost it."

David stood up, walked quickly around the table and, without warning, knocked over Annie's chair, causing her to fall backwards and hit her head on the concrete. Laying on her back, she said, winded and in shock: "I just saw red. In that situation you cannot think in a normal, constructive manner ... your mind won't let you. It just exploded ... I had to get release somehow."

But, she said, "I wasn't entitled to do what I did".

It was as if she was on autopilot: Annie grabbed a carving knife from the kitchen inside, rushed up behind David and, not even thinking about where it might fall, stabbed him in the back.

"And then all I could see was his blood everywhere ... and I just froze, I didn't know what to do."

David screamed loudly when Annie stabbed him, she said, and went on to spend a few days in hospital recovering.

"But after all that build-up ... after everything he had done to me, it was my way of saying, I have had enough, I guess ... I think I thought afterwards that it was his turn to feel the pain."

In Queensland, a peculiar problem

Over the past few years, Queensland, like other states, has been cracking down on domestic violence, a pervasive but significantly underreported pattern of abuse most commonly perpetrated by men against women.

As a result, there has been a huge increase in the number of domestic violence protection orders issued and breached and, as penalties for breaching an order have been toughened, an increase in the number of people in prison.

The system is designed to send a clear message to perpetrators that violence will not be tolerated and ultimately prevent serious crimes, including murder: if you breach a civil protection order, if you continue abusing your partner, you could face criminal charges and end up behind bars.

Often it's an effective tool: a substantial number of orders made, 77 per cent of which protect a female aggrieved, aren't reported as being breached, and research has shown they can lead to a reduction in some types of violence.

For some, however - particularly women - domestic violence protection orders can be their undoing.

An ABC News investigation - part of a series exploring how domestic violence is contributing to Australia's soaring female prison population - has found rising concerns that a system ostensibly devised to protect victims is increasingly being weaponised by male abusers, and bungled by police, with troubling outcomes.

In practice, experts say, this is resulting in a growing number of women in Queensland being inappropriately named as respondents on protection orders - and being incarcerated for contravening them, frequently for minor infractions in self-defence or retaliation against men's attacks.

And the impacts, particularly on Aboriginal women living in the state's north, have been acute. According to evidence heard by the Anti-Discrimination Commission, which recently conducted a review of the treatment of women in Queensland's prisons, over the past two years there have been "large increases" in women remanded in custody for DVO breaches and related offences, with many women behind bars for breaching orders there for their first offence.

Queensland, it seems, has a peculiar problem with DVO breaches: the ABS's most recent snapshot of prisoners in Australia showed more than half - 51 per cent - of those sentenced for breaching an order nationally were serving time in the Sunshine State.

Now, new data obtained exclusively by ABC News reveals that, over the past five years, the proportion of women being named as respondents on protection orders in Queensland has increased - from 20.81 per cent of all orders made in 2014 to 22.36 per cent in 2018.

The proportion of women convicted of breaching an order has also grown over the same period: up from 13 per cent to 15 per cent. Meanwhile, the number of female defendants sentenced to a term of imprisonment for breaching an order has more than doubled, up from 162 in 2014 to 353 in 2018.

Across the board, the Queensland Wide Inter-linked Courts data show men are more likely to be named as respondents on orders; men also commit a greater volume of breaches than women, and are more likely to receive a custodial sentence as a result.

However, Aboriginal people are massively over-represented at every level of the protection order process. For example, though they make up less than four per cent of the state's broader female population, Indigenous women were named as the respondent on more than 20 per cent of orders against women in 2018.

Aboriginal women also committed a third of DVO breaches by women, and of all female defendants sentenced to a term of imprisonment for that offence, almost half - 44 per cent - were Aboriginal.

'When women breach, they throw the book at them'

On the surface, these trends appear to support the findings of some researchers that women can be just as aggressive and abusive as men, and are becoming increasingly so.

But according to lawyers and advocates working with female perpetrators, the statistics mask a complicated problem: while some women named as respondents on orders are violent, a significant proportion are the primary victim of abuse in their relationship.

Yet police, who lodge the bulk of DVO applications, and courts, which make final orders, too often fail to identify this dynamic.

"This is a serious and urgent issue," said Angela Lynch, chief executive of the Women's Legal Service Queensland.

"The consequences for women are huge ... it affects their trust in the system to believe them, and keep them safe, and can prevent them going to police for help in the future. Some women are with ... very manipulative perpetrators, they're very dangerous, so when the system essentially backs the perpetrator, this can put the woman in more danger."

This is not a hypothetical risk: of the cases reviewed by the Domestic and Family Violence Death Review and Advisory Board in 2017, at least six women who had been named at some stage as respondents on protection orders, despite having experienced sometimes brutal, sustained violence themselves, were either killed by their intimate partner or took their own life.

(Of course, it is far more common for women who were supposed to be protected by domestic violence orders to be killed: in almost half of intimate partner homicides reviewed, a protection order was in place at the time of death.)

Experts are currently debating myriad reasons for the increase in DVOs against women. Some believe police, who spruik a "zero tolerance" policy on domestic abuse, are tougher on violent women.

One Brisbane-based court support worker, who asked not to be named for safety reasons, said: "Police won't admit to this, but ... I've noticed a general leniency towards men who breach orders, but when women breach, they throw the book at them."

Julie Sarkozi, a senior solicitor at the Women's Legal Service who worked for five years as a duty lawyer supporting female DVO respondents in Brisbane, said some of her clients have reported egregious harassment and abuse by their partners to police, only to be told it wasn't serious enough to take action against.

"But if a woman has an order against her, and she rings [her partner] in the middle of the night? Bam, the police will breach her ... because he has reported it."

So what's going on? And why are Aboriginal women, who are 32 times more likely than non-Indigenous women to be hospitalised for family violence-related assaults, so over-represented? Is the system really criminalising women who should instead be supported as victims, as advocates say? Or is this trend simply a reflection of the belief that, as some commentators have argued, women are becoming more violent?

At the heart of the problem, experts say, is the failure of police and courts to recognise not just some abusers' "calculated manipulation" of the system, but the hugely complex, gendered nature of domestic violence itself and, importantly, coercive control.

Sometimes referred to as "intimate terrorism", coercive control is not a single incident, a sudden loss of temper or random physical attack, but a pattern of behaviour - tactics - used by mostly male perpetrators to maintain a sense of dominance over their victim, keeping her in a constant state of fear.

"I think the system really struggles to see that men could be so cruel and manipulative because many of them have such beautiful image management," said Karen D, a co-facilitator of Turning Points, a Gold Coast-based behaviour change program for female perpetrators of violence, most of whom have been named as respondents on or breached DVOs. (Turning Points staff asked the ABC not to use their full names for safety reasons.)

"Working with these women we get a real sense of the abuse they have suffered in their lives - the control, the [physical] violence, the sexual abuse. But when police attend a domestic violence incident, they only see a snippet ... they don't see the context of the relationship, the backstory."

But what if it's also about the way the law, and those who administer it, treat women - particularly Aboriginal women - who use violence? What happens when, after years of being boxed into a corner, belittled and besmirched, a strong and angry woman fights back?

When police misjudge who's most in need of protection

When police arrive at a domestic violence incident, they're supposed to separate the couple in order to speak with each person individually. This can also help them identify patterns of coercive controlling behaviour commonly used by the primary perpetrator.

But too often, experts say, in the chaos of the scene or because they're short on time, they take an "incident-based" approach. This can result in, for example, a woman who injured her partner in response to his violence being identified as the aggressor.

"What I found again and again [working as a duty lawyer] is that either the incident that triggered the [DVO] being taken out against the woman was self-defence, or it came after a long history of [abusive] behaviour by her partner," Ms Sarkozi said. "The other party had worn my client down to the point where there was an explosion ... which then caused the police to be called."

Then, when officers turn up, she added, "she's crying, she's really upset, and she immediately admits to [doing whatever she did]: 'Yes, I did throw the vase at him', or 'I did upend the table' or 'I did call him a [slur]'."

Once she has confessed to that behaviour, though - which advocates across the state say is a remarkably common response - police will typically clock it as an act of domestic violence and, having not investigated further, or perhaps because she's distraught and unable to communicate what happened, or because she doesn't speak English, name her as a respondent on their protection order application.

Sometimes, officers will name both parties as aggressors, rather than risk getting it wrong.

For a woman who is actually the victim, this can be disastrous.

In one recent case, police made an application against a young woman after her boyfriend, who had scratch marks all over him, claimed she had attacked him.

"But the woman said she had done that [to fight him off] because he was sexually assaulting her," Ms Sarkozi said. "It so happened that this guy had also been strangling our client, who became so unwell she later collapsed at an intersection."

In that case, Ms Sarkozi said, police ended up withdrawing the order against her because their subsequent investigations uncovered evidence of the assault on the boyfriend's phone: "But it shows you how seriously they can get it wrong."

Still, police rarely withdraw applications and, because of their authority and evidence gathered at the scene, courts tend to make them. Even if a woman's solicitor, if she can afford one, presents a compelling case that the woman has been misidentified as the respondent, Ms Sarkozi said, "98 per cent of the time" police refuse to withdraw their application.

And at that point, Ms Lynch said, many women will simply consent to the order because they don't have the time, resources or emotional energy to defend it through what can be a stressful and protracted process.

"Women may have been a victim of domestic violence and they've suddenly been pulled up in front of the court as a perpetrator: many are just so ashamed and embarrassed ... so they consent [to the order] to get it out of the way," she said.

"They can also feel completely defeated; [they'll think], 'He always says he will destroy me, control me, and this is another way he has succeeded in doing that'."

For some abusers, police and courts are weapons

Once an order is made, however, it can quickly trigger a domino-effect of increasingly serious legal scenarios if breached. And, especially if the woman's partner continues abusing her, breaching is easy.

In Queensland, the standard condition of protection orders requires the respondent to be of good behaviour and not commit domestic violence. But other conditions can be added requiring that a person not have any contact with the aggrieved, say, or go within a certain distance of them or a home they share.

Unsurprisingly, no-contact conditions can be a nightmare, and women (and men) will often breach them, sometimes accidentally, by accessing their home to retrieve personal belongings, or texting their partner about the kids.

ABC News has interviewed several women around the country who have been charged and incarcerated for breaching no-contact DVOs in response to their partner's violence: one woman in New South Wales said she left a tearful voicemail on her ex-husband's phone one night in which she demanded to know why he'd beaten up their son. He immediately reported her call to police, who arrived at her house not long after to arrest her.

Even the standard condition can be a minefield. "Often the parties continue to live with each other and try and move forward with their relationship," Ms Sarkozi said. "And in my experience ... if you don't do something [to address] the underlying issues, it is just going to happen again."

Still, women's breaches are not always so clear-cut. Experts in Queensland and other states are increasingly concerned about the emerging trend of men manipulating the DVO system as an extension of their abuse and control, or to gain an advantage in Family Court proceedings.

They have observed many abusers, for instance, goad or trick women into breaching orders, use them as bargaining chips for sex, access to money or contact with children, then report them to police.

"Quite often if a perpetrator of violence has been named as a respondent on a DVO with a previous partner," said Karen D, "he is very clued-up for the next one on how to use the system."

This " systems abuse" can begin early: for example, with the perpetrator calling police first to improve his chances of being treated as the victim, or out of spite. "These are perpetrators of violence," Ms Lynch said, "So they will use any means they can - including the legal system and the police - to continue to exert power and control."

Importantly, the ways women and men commonly breach DVOs may differ markedly: while women tend to commit more "technical" breaches, lawyers and experts working with perpetrators say men are more likely to contravene orders by physically attacking their partner, or as part of a campaign of coercive control.

"Men's breaches seem to be more serious in the sense that they can involve obsessive behaviour such as stalking, [physical] violence, intimidation and threats," said Bill Potts, president of the Queensland Law Society.

"I'm not saying that never happens with women but in my experience the ... menace of men's breaches is [more] significant compared to what could be regarded as prosaic or minor ... breaches" typical of women.

Male v female violence: Is there a difference?

On the Gold Coast, many of the men participating in behaviour change programs at the Domestic Violence Prevention Centre (DVPC) have been referred by courts, and many are also listed as respondents on protection orders.

"Participants in our men's program are generally supervised by Probation and Parole for breaches and violence against their partners," said Rosemary O'Malley, the chief executive of DVPC, which services a huge geographic area and works with thousands of clients every year.

This, she said, can include everything from not complying with no-contact conditions to sadistic acts of violence and torture: strangulation, putting out lit cigarettes on a woman's chest, throwing her out of a second-storey window, driving a woman to a remote area and forcing her to dig her own grave and, in extreme cases, murder.

"We don't see that level of violence documented for women attending Turning Points [DVPC's program for female perpetrators]," Ms O'Malley said.

Of course, some women breach orders using serious violence. But again and again, experts report that, although women can instigate fights, and act as aggressively as men, the difference between their use of violence and men's is fear.

"Power and control is linked to the intention to cause fear, to make that person fear for their life," said Joanne K, a co-facilitator of Turning Points. "Women can be controlling, but ... women [generally] don't use forms of power and control so that men are in fear for their lives day-in and day-out."

This is reflected in the findings of numerous studies.

In one review of research on women's violence against male partners in the United States, researchers from the University of South Carolina found women's violence usually occurs in response to or retaliation against violence by their partner: their use of physical violence is more likely to be motivated by self-defence and fear, while men's is more likely to be fuelled by their desire for control.

It also found that, in general, women and men perpetrate "equivalent levels of physical and psychological aggression" but that men more frequently commit sexual abuse, coercive control and stalking.

Even in relationships in which both men and women have used violence, they found men can cause more harm. Women, the authors concluded, "are more likely than men to experience severe and coercive forms of partner violence ... and women are injured more often and more severely."

Similar patterns have been identified in Australia. An analysis of 152 adult domestic abuse-related homicides in Australia between July 2010 and June 2014 revealed that four out of five cases were of men killing their female partner, while a little less than one in five were women who murdered a male partner (the rest were perpetrated by men against men).

Crucially, the report, published last year by the Australian Domestic and Family Violence Death Review Network, highlights one striking difference: more than nine in 10 men who murdered women were the primary abuser in their relationship, compared with fewer than one in 10 women who killed male intimates. One in four women who killed their male partner had a current DVO against him.

In other words, female victims of abuse are far more likely to be killed by a male partner - the most extreme form of violence. Women who murder a male partner are also more likely to have been identified as a victim in the relationship, and have sought a court order to protect themselves, not that doing so is necessarily effective.

'There was nobody standing up for me'

Why, then, if the stakes are so high, are so many women falling through the cracks? Some experts suggest stereotypes of how women should behave can influence their treatment by police and courts.

"I think the expectation is that women [in abusive relationships] will be crumpling in the corner, being fearful, crying - a bit of a mess," said Heather Douglas, a law professor at the University of Queensland.

"And yet what a lot of women say is that when police arrive [at domestic violence callouts], they're furious, angry and ... very strong. Yes, the women may have been harmed [by their partner] for years, but in the end some are very angry ... and they don't want to see themselves as a victim, they want to be a strong survivor."

This display of defiance, Professor Douglas said, can "undercut" the role of police, and alter their perception of what has occurred between the couple.

Still, domestic violence matters can be very difficult for police, she added, "because they don't want to be responsible for not taking action, for not getting a protection order where one might have been needed."

On the flipside, many survivors claim an inconsistent approach by police. Queensland's landmark report on domestic violence, Not Now, Not Ever, heard evidence of "extremely unhelpful and traumatising responses" from police, including a failure by some officers to take women's reports of abuse seriously (similar arguments have been made by advocates for male victims, who may be deterred from reporting abuse as a result of stigma and shame).

The 2015 inquiry made eight recommendations for police urging, among other reforms, better training and cultural change. And it appears to have given police in Queensland, as in other states, a new determination to stamp out domestic violence.

Frontline workers say they have seen noticeable improvements as a result, including that police are more prepared to prosecute DVO breaches, despite their spiralling workload and what one senior officer described to ABC News on background as "DV fatigue".

A Queensland Police Service spokesperson told ABC News in a statement that, "responding to and preventing domestic and family violence is a priority" for the force, with officers attending roughly 246 incidents a day.

"Police will investigate all incidents without prejudice," they said. There are a number of initiatives in place to usher out old or unhelpful attitudes, including training, education and professional development opportunities for members "to support continuous improvement and to build strong leadership" in the area of domestic violence.

Anyone who has a complaint about police handling of domestic violence matters, the spokesperson added, is encouraged to lodge a formal report with the Ethical Standards Command or Crime and Corruption Commission so the allegations can be investigated.

But new research by Professor Douglas, based on in-depth interviews with 65 women in Brisbane who had experienced domestic violence, suggests some problems remain unaddressed.

While some participants reported positive dealings with police, the study found, others had negative encounters, including officers appearing to align themselves with male abusers, implying women were to blame for their partner's abuse, and suggesting women were "idiots" for staying.

This was also the case for Annie. In one particularly bad experience last year, she said, she called police for assistance after David began shouting and throwing things at her in one of his drunken rages.

One of the officers who came to her house, she said, had responded to her calls previously but didn't seem to believe her accounts. "And he threatened me, basically. He said, 'If you don't stop wasting our time you'll end up in jail'."

Annie felt completely abandoned, she said, and told them: "Well, I might as well just kill myself now, then - and they had to take that seriously."

As a result, she said, the officers took her to the hospital for a mental health assessment. What upset her more, though, was how "chummy" she thought they were with David.

"I couldn't understand why they were so calm and nice ... They were joking with him, after being called out for a domestic violence incident! I think their strategy would be to not make the situation more volatile ... but straight away they were on his side, there was nobody standing up for me."

'I gave as much as he tried to give'

Hundreds of kilometres north of the Gold Coast, these issues are taking a particular toll on Aboriginal women, many of whom live in remote communities between Mount Isa, in the state's west, and Townsville, a coastal hub swarming with military recruits and mine workers on fly-in-fly-out contracts.

The new Queensland courts data obtained by the ABC show Aboriginal women, who are over-represented on DVOs as both the respondent and the aggrieved, are also more likely than non-Indigenous women to be found guilty of breaching an order, and are more likely to be imprisoned as a result. (Interestingly, the proportion of Aboriginal women sentenced to a term of imprisonment for this offence has been declining since 2014.)

In addition, police data show that in 2018, Mount Isa recorded the highest rate of DVO breaches in the state, with 2,092 breaches per 100,000 people. This was double the rate of Townsville, which recorded the second-highest breach rate in Queensland.

Similar trends were identified in a study published last year by Professor Douglas and her University of Queensland colleague Robin Fitzgerald. Their analysis of courts data from 2013-14 showed Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people were over-represented at every stage of the DVO system, including, crucially, with police.

While police lodged applications for the majority - 79 per cent - of protection orders, this figure was much higher for Aboriginal respondents (90 per cent) and slightly higher for Aboriginal female respondents (90.3 per cent). "That opens up the possibility that many of those orders perhaps weren't wanted by the parties involved," Professor Douglas said.

Further, 69 per cent of women imprisoned for contravening a DVO were Aboriginal. While previous contact with the criminal justice system may partly explain their over-representation, she said, it was "so shocking that we think there is something more going on ... there is a much bigger story here."

According to lawyers and prison support workers, the "bigger story" is a complex tangle of issues that can be traced back to colonisation, and the cycles of disadvantage and violence it continues to fuel in Indigenous communities.

Thelma Schwartz, principal legal officer at the Queensland Indigenous Family Violence Legal Service (QIFVLS), said police often apply for DVOs against Aboriginal women that can be difficult to comply with.

"The conditions on some orders" - for example, barring a woman from having contact with her partner - "are setting many women up to fail," Ms Schwartz said. Many Indigenous communities in Queensland are very isolated, which means contact with an abusive partner is sometimes unavoidable.

"There is also a lack of shelters for women [fleeing violence] in rural locations ... So if women are forced out of their home as part of a [DVO], where are they going to go?"

Orders are also taken out against - and breached by - Aboriginal women who have fought back. Some research has suggested Aboriginal women are more likely than non-Indigenous women to retaliate against a violent partner, which may increase their likelihood of being named as a respondent on an order, or being charged for breaching one.

But this has been linked to many women's reluctance to report violence or seek help as victims: Some fear retribution from their partner or his family, while many have a deep distrust of police that began generations before them. Others hold legitimate fears that reporting abuse will result in them being arrested or their children being removed.

"This intergenerational trauma is very complex and very difficult to unpack," Ms Schwartz said. "Many of the women we work with have experienced sexual or other physical abuse as children ... And when you start peeling back those layers it's almost as if there's an acceptance of this violence as normal. For some women, that [violence and chaos] is all they've ever known."

As one recent study of Aboriginal mothers incarcerated in Western Australia found, some women connect their childhood experiences of abuse to their use of resistant violence in adult relationships.

One participant, 'Leonie', said she would fight back against her partner because she'd "been getting flogged all [her] life" by her father, who also beat her mother. "There was no way I was going to stand back and let a man flog me," she said, "so I gave as much as he tried to give."

A different policing approach up north?

Debbie Kilroy, the chief executive of Sisters Inside, believes the growing number of Aboriginal women being held in Townsville Women's Correctional Centre for breaching DVOs and related offences is not reflective of an increase in violence among women, but a change in "police attitudes and behaviour".

"Police are specifically targeting Aboriginal communities in North Queensland," she said, "and responding to domestic violence situations by [applying for protection] orders against both the woman and her abusive partner, even in cases where it is clear the woman has used violence to defend herself against horrific abuse."

This has also been the experience of QIFVLS staff up north, Ms Schwartz said, who report officers rarely conduct "proper investigations" into domestic violence matters.

"If the police know they can technically prove an act of domestic violence [was perpetrated by] the woman," staff in the North Queensland office said, "they will file a DVO application" - even if there's evidence she acted in self-defence.

(QPS did not specifically respond to questions about its handling of domestic abuse in Indigenous communities but said the force was "committed to addressing ... family violence in regional communities" and, among other initiatives, had introduced high-risk teams in various locations to do so.)

A couple of years ago, Ms Kilroy said, she defended a young Aboriginal woman who had been seriously assaulted by her long-term partner on several occasions, including one incident where he was convicted and imprisoned for stabbing and blinding her in one eye.

Months later, Ms Kilroy said, "The woman was sleeping on a lounge chair in her home, and her partner woke her up by shaking her violently and hitting her around the head." He chased her down the street, she said, and was beating her up when the woman noticed a small knife on the road: "She picked it up and stabbed him with it, causing him minor injuries."

She was charged with grievous bodily harm - despite witnesses saying they had seen the man attacking her - and breaching a DVO, which Ms Kilroy said had been made despite police being "fully aware" of his previous assaults on her, and held on remand in prison in Townsville.

The first lawyer she was assigned, Ms Kilroy said, simply "asked the woman, 'Did you stab [him]?' To which she replied 'yes' and nodded ... and she was told to plead guilty."

But when Sisters Inside took over the case, she said, they spoke in detail with the woman about what had happened, and about her partner's history of violence, and changed her plea to 'not guilty'.

"We went to trial ... and she was found not guilty by a jury," Ms Kilroy said. "But some lawyers - they're usually white men - see it as being easier to plead them out, plead them guilty. So the stats seem to suggest women are becoming more violent but [in many cases] it's because they're [being poorly advised and] pleading guilty."

'One death is too many': Action is urgently needed

Untangling some of these issues will require a substantial overhaul of family violence programs in Indigenous communities, experts say - to help Aboriginal families address their behaviour and heal their trauma before they come to the attention of cops and courts.

"Given the growing rates of imprisonment, especially of Aboriginal women, action is urgently needed," Ms Schwartz said. "The current system is not working ... and the linkages to other problems" - for example the alarming number of kids in Queensland watch houses, many of whom have parents in custody - "are clear".

"We need to look at investing in programs that interrupt those cycles," said Ms Schwartz, who would also like to see an expansion of bail-based programs that direct women to behaviour change groups, which are rare.

Crucially, she added, "Communities need to be empowered to [design and] lead these changes themselves, they must be involved from the start."

However, Debbie Kilroy believes the problems need to be tackled even more radically, and earlier in the piece. For that reason, she said, Sisters Inside is advocating for "truly gendered" domestic violence legislation that requires police to assume "the male party is the perpetrator of violence, in the absence of overwhelming evidence to the contrary".

"It is important that we return to the original intent of domestic violence legislation," Sisters Inside recently told the Productivity Commission's inquiry into imprisonment and recidivism, "that is, to primarily protect women and children".

But Queensland's Minister for the Prevention of Domestic and Family Violence, Di Farmer, has dismissed the idea. While "the vast majority of perpetrators are men," Ms Farmer told ABC News, "Our laws do not make presumptions on the basis of gender because not all perpetrators are men and not all victims are women."

And police would argue that's exactly how they are trained: to approach domestic abuse as the Act currently defines it: as an issue that can affect anyone, but which disproportionately impacts women, and Aboriginal people, among other vulnerable groups.

"Of course there are men who are abused by women and [police] shouldn't exclude that possibility," Professor Douglas said. "But if they are well-trained in terms of the statistics - the fact that women are much more likely to be harmed as a result of domestic violence, especially physical and sexual violence - they would go [to callouts] with that understanding."

Education, then, is key. To that end, the Women's Legal Service says the new Vulnerable Persons Units set up in a handful of police districts to better assist victims and perpetrators are having a positive impact.

But, Julie Sarkozi said, "There needs to be a lot more energy put into comprehensive training for ... police, so that when they're turning up [at callouts] ... they're asking broader questions to obtain a bigger picture of the dynamics of the relationship. That requires more resourcing, training, nuanced policing."

Bill Potts strongly believes police need to be able to exercise greater discretion at callouts: in many situations, he said, protection orders are "too blunt an instrument" to effectively address the complex causes of violence, and can actually inflame tensions.

And because the system is "crushing" police and clogging courts, he added, perpetrators aren't getting timely support for the factors fuelling their abuse: mental health issues, drug and alcohol problems, financial stress.

"We are not taking a whole-of-community approach to domestic violence and we need to," Mr Potts said. "Because one death is too many but the actual causes of violence can't be properly addressed by police [alone] or a cumbersome court process. We actually need to [invest in] community-based responses because we know they work."

Making a 'bigger deal' of women hitting men

So why aren't we talking more about women who use violence, particularly given there's arguably never been a brighter spotlight on domestic abuse?

On the other side of the globe, conversations about how violent women are treated in the criminal justice system seem to be decades ahead of discussions in Australia. In the United States, there is a growing body of research dedicated to exploring the abuse-to-prison pipeline, and sustained campaigns for reform to allow courts to take victims' experiences into consideration.

The recent #MeToo movement has also been credited with expanding public understanding not just of sexual harassment and abuse, but the criminalisation of survivors.

Almost three decades after Lorena Bobbitwas arrested for cutting off her husband's penis as he slept one night, her behaviour is now being seen in new light.

Back then, Ms Bobbit was framed as a "crazy white lady" who attacked her lover in a "fit of vengeance". Now, a more complex story is emerging about a young woman who, after enduring years of domestic violence and rape by an abusive and controlling man, " finally snapped".

In Australia, however, the debate around women's violence tends to be raised most frequently by men's rights campaigns and media commentators - not survivors with first-hand experience.

"The conversation [here] is more, 'Ah ha, see? Women are violent, too'," Ms Kilroy said. "It's easy to say in a [sound bite], 'Women are becoming more violent' than to break it down and try and understand what's actually going on in women's lives behind the scenes."

Experts argue that expanding the conversation about women's violence shouldn't mean criminal behaviour is excused, or that male survivors are ignored. Talking more openly about women's abuse, for instance, could make it easier for male victims to seek help, by reducing stigma. It may also shed more light on the dynamics of men's aggression and violence.

"Because women's violence is often retaliatory or committed in self-defence," wrote Michael Kimmel, a distinguished professor of sociology and gender studies at Stony Brook University, examining it "may help to expose some of the ways men use violence to control women and women's perceived lack of options except 'fighting back'."

And as the American professor of sociology Murray A. Straus argued in 1997, acknowledging even "minor" assaults by women is important because, "they put women in danger of much more severe retaliation by men".

"When she slaps, she sets the stage for him to hit her," Professor Strauss went on to say. "The safety of women alone demands we make a big deal of women hitting men."

'You're labelled for the rest of your life'

How many women might avoid jail time if their violence was paid more careful attention? Would a more robust public discussion about women's abuse have prevented Annie from stabbing David? It's difficult to say.

As she nervously awaited a sentencing decision for her charges, she told ABC News she'd taken responsibility for her actions and "very much" regrets what happened that night.

But she's also deeply angry about how she has been treated as a victim and wishes her attempts to seek help had been seen by police not as a "waste of time", but a genuine plea for assistance from a woman who felt trapped and traumatised in her own home.

For example, instead of removing her from the house, as they did on many occasions, including to take her to the hospital because she was so distressed, Annie wishes they'd listened properly to her accounts, and been firmer with David. They could have recognised the difficulties she may have faced in reaching out to begin with.

"I didn't realise how serious it had gotten, to be honest, how helpless I was. I was crying and putting my head under the doona, and [wishing it would] stop." But by the time she'd stabbed him, she said, she'd lost faith that anyone else could help, that things would change.

"I think that's why a lot of women [experiencing domestic abuse] have ended up being killed," she said, "because strong enough action hasn't been taken soon enough."

Her brief stint behind bars before she was granted bail, she said, was a humiliating experience that "stripped any pride or strength or feeling of self-worth I had left. I think they do that purposely - you're not actually seen as a person in jail ... it was worse than anything that had been going on back home."

It was also "quite a shock" for her to learn just how many women there were, like her, victims of sexual and domestic abuse.

Still, it was the first time in years she'd had space from David, Annie said, and a chance to reflect on their relationship. Sometimes, she felt as if she was rebuilding some of her lost self-esteem.

Now, she's taking life "one day at a time", and trying to enjoy her safety and freedom while she has it. She's rented a little house for herself, and is seeing a psychiatrist and attending a behaviour change program for female perpetrators of violence.

But she remains anxious about the future, she said, how her criminal charges might alter the course of her life. "Even having to go to court was embarrassing because I felt my standing in the community [had been damaged]," she said.

"I'd been a good person ... I'd never done anything wrong [before the incident]. But unfortunately when you've been to prison ... I think you're labelled, judged harshly, for the rest of your life."

Couldn't she label herself differently, though? How does she see herself? "Survivor," she said, nodding slowly. "I'm a survivor."
*Names have been changed for legal reasons.

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.title
Annie called police for help 19 times before she stabbed her husband. Now she's facing jail

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More women in Queensland are being imprisoned for breaching domestic violence orders, sometimes with serious assaults. But if a significant proportion are victims themselves, as experts say, where are things going so wrong? It wasn't until she was walking into the Brisbane Women's Correctional Centre last year, hands in cuffs, that Annie* fully realised the seriousness of the situation she was in.

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How Police Are Part Of The Problem Of Domestic Violence

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How Police Are Part Of The Problem Of Domestic Violence

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https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2020/sep/05/julies-story-how-police-were-part-of-the-problem-for-a-domestic-violence-victim?fbclid=IwAR3caLSMSLB1qRnJ82B3Hk5ZS2sixqHxUe1Ja1yX37zO0CDRW8bgusW3OCs

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Julie has been in hiding now for seven years; so long that the vigilance of a domestic violence survivor has become unshakeable habit.

She instinctively looks over her shoulder outside her Gold Coast home. She checks twice the door is locked behind her.

Safely inside, some of Julie's stoicism falls away.

"The truth is I've had to put on a brave face and look and see someone else in the mirror to keep fighting," she tells Guardian Australia.

"I may be able to present to you as somebody who appears to be strong and calm, but on the inside I am still at my most vulnerable. I'm proud to be called Julie so people can put a name to someone fighting for victims, but it's not me, it's not my real name."

Julie was pregnant and fearful of her repeatedly violent former husband when, in 2014, a Queensland police officer hacked into a confidential database, accessed her address and leaked it to the man.

The officer, senior sergeant Neil Punchard, suggested in text messages that his childhood friend should "let loose" on Julie and "fuck her over".

This week, a Queensland court overturned Punchard's conviction for computer hacking and imposed a lighter sentence.

The decision means he may keep his job as a frontline police officer - a prospect that has shocked women's campaigners and domestic violence experts, who say it would shatter public trust in the Queensland police service and deter vulnerable women from seeking help.

"I just wanted to run away"

Julie met her ex-husband Ronald (not his real name) when she was 19. He was 10 years older and had been married before.

"I had been part of a family where the men treat women really beautifully. I didn't know what abuse was or what red flags to look for, I was quite young.

"The control started at the onset. The mind games. He'd say to me that I didn't know what I was talking about. I was wrong. My views were wrong. The man was in charge and the woman was not valuable, just a slave basically.

"As time went on the control got even worse. Control of spending. Checking the car, where I was going. When I'd go to work he would just show up. He wanted to know where I was 24/7. He'd check my phone, check what I was doing on my computer. Then there was physical abuse.

"On my wedding night he pushed me up against a wall. I just wanted to run away.

"He hit me when I was pregnant. After he had physically attacked me when my son was very ill, I thought he had broken my neck, my body went numb."

Julie said she left the relationship after an incident when Ronald threw their eldest son into a wall.

"I said to myself 'that is it, this can never happen again'. That's when I grabbed my children, he grabbed me with a knife and said I will kill you. I still remember his eyes, they were black."

Ronald instigated family court proceedings and was advised and supported - including with formal statements of support - by his childhood friend, senior constable Punchard.

Text message exchanges show Punchard suggested he could turn up unannounced to one family law hearing "and see [Julie] shit herself with me there".

Julie says: "When he started family court proceedings it was just horrific. I basically left with nothing but a bag of clothes. And during our time together we had bought a house and had two successful businesses. I walked out on everything and had to start again."

In 2014, Punchard illegally accessed two confidential police databases to search for information related to Julie, her new husband, and family members.

Punchard appears to have thought it was funny when he sent her home address to Ronald.

"Just tell her you know where she lives and leave it at that. Lol," he wrote in a text message, discovered on an old phone two years later.

"I await the email and her reply. Lol. She will fucking explode. Lmao."

In other text messages, the senior constable offers to help Ronald with any police complaints.

"The police will contact you if they want to speak to you ... then you give them my name. That is your get-out-of-jail-free card," Punchard wrote.

"I have completed an email draft to send to the bitch that will hopefully make her shit herself, so I want to go over it with you before I send it to you," he said in another message.

On the day Julie's youngest child was born in 2014, Punchard told Ronald in a text message that he could arrange for police officers to be present at a custody exchange of the children, to embarrass Julie's new husband, if he did not agree to meet at a police station.

Punchard claimed in the appeal court not to have known about domestic violence at this time. No orders were in place until later, though allegations of abuse pre-date the period.

The most recent court order, dated last year, bans Ronald from making any attempt to contact Julie or the boys. In 2018, Ronald fled Australia. There is a warrant out for his arrest for failing to attend court to face an allegation he breached a domestic violence order.

Julie says that despite Ronald now living overseas, she is still regularly reporting alleged breaches of court "non contact" orders.

Seeking help from the police

Julie's first interaction with police was in 2014, when she attempted to seek a domestic violence protection order.

"They said to me 'do you really need one? Because every man woman and dog want a DVO'."

In 2016, after discovering a phone containing text messages between Punchard and Ronald, Julie made a complaint to the Queensland Crime and Corruption Commission. Like 98% of complaints to the CCC, it was sent back to the police to investigate one of their own.

"From the beginning when I first made a complaint, they just questioned everything," Julie says.

"When I was interviewed ... in my home they bullied me, they interrogated me, they treated me like a criminal. They deflected the questions I asked about their accountability.

"They were just on Team Police. They didn't care what I'd gone through or what I had to say to them. It was about protecting the police.

"It should not be that hard for a woman wanting to stay alive and save herself for her children."

Police initially took internal disciplinary action against Punchard - his pay was docked roughly $10 a week for a year - but decided to keep the matter in-house and not to pursue criminal charges for computer hacking.

Police twice lost CCTV footage allegedly showing Ronald committing acts of family violence. After the first instance, at a McDonald's restaurant in Brisbane, Julie had confirmed with staff that the footage could be saved. Police later told her it could not be recovered.

The second time police taped over evidence of Ronald allegedly confronting Julie at a courthouse.

When she complained about the bungle to an officer designated to handle her case, he told Julie not to contact him again about her "petty domestic violence matter".

An audio recording of the conversation, made by Julie, was played on national television. Police ended an investigation because they said they could find "no evidence" about the exchange.

Last year, Julie won a landmark breach of privacy case against the police, and has agreed a compensation payout. She represented herself. The QPS denied responsibility for the breach and briefed a silk to argue in a civil tribunal.

An officer who gave evidence in the tribunal in support of Julie, Lyn Jones, subsequently alleged she was targeted for reprisal disciplinary action, including a misconduct charge for failing to wear her police hat.

All the while Julie campaigned for Punchard to be sacked or charged. Under immense public pressure and at the urging of the CCC, the former commissioner Ian Stewart re-opened the case in 2018.

Last year, Punchard was charged and pleaded guilty to nine counts of computer hacking. He was sentenced to two months in prison, wholly suspended, and convicted.

Nowhere to turn

Like Stewart, the new police commissioner, Katarina Carroll, has made clear domestic violence is a priority of her tenure.

In July, Carroll gave a series of interviews in which she spoke at length about the family violence murder of Hannah Clarke and her three children.

Carroll has repeatedly turned down interview requests by Guardian Australia seeking to discuss the substance of those sort of umbrella statements; including how to address problems with police culture and officer attitudes about domestic violence, which women's groups and domestic violence support services have repeatedly said fails victims.

The Women's Legal Service Queensland is pushing for an audit of officer attitudes. Domestic violence experts, like Queensland University of Technology professor Kerry Carrington, have suggested women-only police stations.

Women's advocates say case after case suggest the Queensland Police Service has a cultural problem.

"When I see police stand up and say enough is enough, I know it's a marketing ploy," Julie said.

"I haven't seen that support. They say it's something they care about, but where are the actions that back that up.

"Of course, there's one thing that has to happen now. Neil Punchard has to get sacked.

"How can any woman walk into a police station and make a complaint knowing this person is deemed fit to be an officer? This person who intimidated me. This person who leaked my address."

Women's advocates, community leaders and others have all called on Carroll to sack Punchard, now his appeal against the severity of his sentence has concluded.

Police told the Guardian they had sought urgent legal advice about the judgment to consider if there are any grounds for appeal.

"The commissioner has publicly acknowledged that a failure to discharge prescribed responsibilities in an ethical, professional and lawful manner erodes public trust and confidence in the QPS."

'I know I'll be stalked'

Julie says the ordeal - the domestic abuse, compounded by the repeated failures of authorities - has had a profound effect on her life.

"There are things I want to do that I can't. There are business ideas that I want to do that I can't, because I know I'll be stalked. I have an underlying fear that the police ... and if I engage in business or something they might to tear that down and cause me further harm or trauma.

"I cannot give out my address to any government agency, or put myself on the electoral roll so I can vote, because the police have access to that. I have to practise extreme vigilance. All of the things I've had to do now have become a habit, like looking over my shoulder, locking my doors when I get into the car, or running to the car.

"I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, constantly in fear."

It is understood Ronald is now living in Greece, but that his passport has not been flagged by Interpol and that he could notionally return at any time.

"If that happens, who can I turn to?" Julie says.

"Because I can't rely on the police. I have no faith they can protect me."

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Julie's story: how police were part of the problem for a domestic violence victim

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Julie has been in hiding now for seven years; so long that the vigilance of a domestic violence survivor has become unshakeable habit. She instinctively looks over her shoulder outside her Gold Coast home. She checks twice the door is locked behind her. Safely inside, some of Julie's stoicism falls away.

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What We Are Getting Wrong About Domestic Violence

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What We Are Getting Wrong About Domestic Violence

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https://www.abc.net.au/news/2020-02-22/hannah-clarke-murder-domestic-violence-what-we-are-getting-wrong/11988412?nw=0&fbclid=IwAR2j1mA6uIaCZBk0cSxu_1lkiOHtyZDx9ETxcicbFhNJDo41CDKKxSBbO6Y

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Updated February 24, 2020 18:47:03

In three decades of practice as a social worker and researcher, I have worked with people who have survived, as well as perpetrated, intimate partner violence. Sadly, I have also worked with people who have been murdered by the very people who claimed to love them.

As police investigate the circumstances surrounding the tragic and senseless deaths of Hannah Clarke and her three children, Aaliyah, Laianah and Trey, there is little doubt the scourge of domestic violence is a topic that will continue to dominate the national discourse - and rightly so.

But while many of these conversations and media pieces will be based on the best available evidence and empathy, others will be based upon misguided information and outdated opinions.

It is up to us to challenge that.

Their deaths demand that we pause to review not only what we know about domestic violence, but the effectiveness of our legal and social service system response.

'I feel like a man when I'm hurting people'

It is imperative that we do not create a narrative where domestic violence is seen as "mutual combat" or "relationship conflict". It occurs when one person makes a unilateral choice to exert power and control over another person.

Perpetrators rely on a range of tactics to assert control, including physical and sexualised violence, psychological and emotional abuse, financial abuse and social isolation, among others.

Men that I have worked with both in a therapeutic environment and as participants in research are acutely aware that they are using these coercive strategies.

At times, they appeared to thrive on them, telling me: "I use violence because it works", and "that's the purpose of domestic violence, to control a person".

Many of those who use violence also hold strongly entitled attitudes supportive of a culture of toxic masculinity.

Other men I have interviewed have said things like: "I feel like a man when I'm hurting people", and "she knows that if I hurt her, it's because of something that she's done".

When violence becomes a parenting choice

Their choices are made within a wider patriarchal context that privileges men's needs and interests over those of women and children.

When children are involved, using violence becomes a parenting choice.

As such, it is extremely difficult to reconcile the notion that domestically violent men can be simultaneously abusive partners and good fathers.

As part of my research, I spoke to men who had gone through men's behaviour change programs about their experiences of being a father. They often drew a distinction between themselves as a partner and as a parent.

They would say things like, "Oh, my violence towards her is separate to my fathering", or "I'm a really great dad", without considering the impact witnessing domestic violence would have on their child.

Likewise, in the public discourse, there is often a false dichotomy where we see the actions of perpetrators as separate to their capacity as parents. They were "good fathers" and "doting dads" who just happened to snap and kill their family.

This is especially difficult to reconcile when one considers the extensive evidence about the co-existence of men's abuse of children and women.

The child protection and family law systems remain fragmented and under-resourced, resulting in poor outcomes for many women and children attempting to journey away from domestically violent men.

'Why don't you just leave?'

Most women who mother children in the context of domestic violence are doing an incredible job of protecting their children within a complex environment and within a society that frequently casts judgement upon their abilities as a mother.

Our research at the University of Sydney and University of Melbourne has found that the "failure to protect" discourse is alive and well in many of our legal and social service institutions.

It results in unfair and sexist practices that hold women survivors responsible for exposing children to domestic violence, rather than holding domestically violent men accountable for their abuse.

Many women that I've worked with say that they are frequently asked the question: "Why don't you just leave?"

They comment that they do not hear people asking domestically violent men, "Why don't you stop being disrespectful and abusive?"

Victim blaming attitudes come to the fore in many ways, including (but not limited to) media reports that delve into the psyche of the victim and question her motives for staying, while reporting on the "stress" that men must have been under so as to account for the murders of women and children.

However, our research has found that these attitudes and practices can be changed.

In a relatively short period of time, we have seen improvements in practice when the perpetrator's pattern of abuse is mapped and practitioners partner with survivors and maintain a focus on children's safety.

We need on-the-ground action

Responding to domestic violence, however, requires more than a narrative shift.

Women and children must have access to safe refuge accommodation if they do not feel safe remaining in their homes.

Despite repeated calls for government to take leadership and ensure that women have access to specialist domestic violence refuges, stay-safe-at-home programs, and affordable long-term safe housing options, domestic violence continues to be the leading cause of homelessness in Australia.

Many domestic violence refuge workers that I have interviewed report that they are under-resourced and forced to regularly turn women and children away.

They told me that many of these women were sent onto the street or had to resort to living in cars. Some would have their children removed because they were homeless. Others would be killed.

We need to offer extensive support to women at this time.

Any breaches of protection orders must be responded to appropriately by police, and men who fail to comply with restrictions placed upon them must be held accountable for their choices.

Many women that I have interviewed report that breaches of protection orders are frequently not responded to in a timely and serious fashion, leaving them to feel unsafe and unprotected.

We can all help enact change

As Australia is left reeling over the tragic deaths of yet another woman and her young children, we must reflect on our own attitudes towards domestic violence, and what we can do as a community to counter these types of behaviours.

If you're a man who uses violence and coercive control in your intimate partner relationship, make a choice to change.

Pick up a phone and ask for help or call your local health centre and enrol in a men's behaviour change program or parenting program.

If you're a politician, listen to the experts and practitioners who work in our under-resourced and fragmented system. Fully fund and implement the recommendations or the numerous expensive royal commissions, inquiries and research projects that have been undertaken in this area.

If you're a journalist or keyboard warrior, think carefully about the questions you ask and the words you use to construct your story.

And if you're a professional who works with people surviving or perpetrating domestic violence, ensure that you have access to the best evidence so that you can provide a trauma-informed, domestic violence-informed response that does not result in the secondary victimisation of women and children.

We can all make a choice to create a responsive system that holds and protects women like Hannah and her children, who should never have to navigate our complex legal and service system alone.
Dr Sue Heward-Belle is a senior lecturer at the University of Sydney and is a recognised leader in domestic and family violence research. She has almost 30 years' experience in the domestic violence and child protection fields and has conducted many studies in these areas.
Topics: community-and-society, domestic-violence, child-abuse, family-and-children, children, men, law-crime-and-justice, homicide, crime, australia, brisbane-4000, qld

First posted February 22, 2020 06:29:36

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I've spent decades working with men who abuse their partners. This is what we're getting wrong

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The tragic and senseless deaths of Hannah Clarke and her three young children demand that we pause to review not only what we know about domestic violence, but the effectiveness of our legal and social service system, writes Dr Susan Heward-Belle.

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https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2019/apr/12/the-government-wants-to-bulldoze-my-inheritance-800-year-old-sacred-trees?fbclid=IwAR3at-LLAn-9wq5L0Y80fVpaCJEQ1KjXrGtiLhcswv39whZosPGmqCeAOJE

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Victoria's settler colonisation has been a violent and traumatic ongoing series of events on both Aboriginal people and our landscapes.

Despite attempts to kill us off, assimilate us, we are still here. This truth is a thorn in the colonial side. As our physical human form persists, our land and our claim to it too remains. Despite land theft, pollution, "development" and unsustainable white farming practices, sacred places still exist.

The 800-year-old Djap Wurrung trees slated to be bulldozed and have bitumen poured over them to extend the Western Freeway near Ararat, Victoria, are one such site. The proposed changes will apparently save drivers two minutes. What is two minutes to 800 years?

The official line given by the Major Roads Project Authority is safety. This framing can be understood as a way to undermine land defenders and position us as against the interests of the rest of the population. What left unsaid is do these trees not matter? Does Djap Wurrung culture and connection to country not matter? Is there no alternative?

The fight to save the trees began last year when construction was scheduled to begin. This construction would destroy dozens of old and culturally significant trees. There has been legal to'ing and fro'ing between the land defenders and the government. The fight gained momentum again in mid-March when bulldozers armed with a small army of police came to destroy the trees. A call was sounded by the embassy established near the trees for more bodies to protect the trees. The call out was met by up to 100 black land defenders and our non-Aboriginal accomplices.

The police were ejected from the site at the end of 18 March. At the moment there is an undertaking requiring the government to stop its work until 22 April.

It is important to situate myself when I write about these trees. My existence would perhaps not be possible without them. I am a Djap Wurrung person through my grandmother Sandra Onus (you can call her Aunty). These trees are Djap Wurrung people's inheritance. These trees are my inheritance, our inheritance. Their survival and our fight to keep them alive and safe are a cultural obligation and an assertion of our sovereignty. This sovereignty is a threat to the state. These words are my attempt to keep them alive. These words are too an assertion of sovereignty.

No settler in Australia can look at any place in this country and know they have a blood connection spanning more than a few generations. There is probably a word for it in my language that I haven't learned yet but the closest I can come to describing it in English is an immense and utterly overwhelming sense of connection.

The limitations and lack of sophistication in the English language, and that there is no word for this feeling, means the Anglo settler doesn't get to experience this and can not possibly know this feeling. This was long traded by their ancestors. They can't understand what it means to be able to connect the blood coursing through your body to ancestors blood soaked in ancient soil and ancient trees. To sit in a tree that saw your people birthed, your people massacred, and now your people's resistance is a feeling that the English language will never be able to capture.

This connection may be fuzzy, heartwarming and poetic but this connection is a threat. It is a feeling that reinforces our rights to this land. This connection must therefore, by the logic of the settler state, be destroyed. That a small army of police was set upon land defenders represents how little regard the state has for black people. The attempt to wipe out our sacred places must also be seen as an attempt to wipe out our claim to them. This serves to further dispossess, wipe the slate clean, and allow the state to continue its operations unhindered by Aboriginal sovereignty.

The inability to see these sites as worthy of being protected or that they are significant is fundamentally racist. It is white selectivity that deems sacred trees unworthy of protection. This white selectivity spans across all elements of our life - what is taught in schools, who is worthy of justice - but plays out particularly in the public imagination surrounding what sites are important and for what reason.

Living places are demonstrably more important for us, yet by virtue of their importance being designated by black people they are not worthy of this state's protection.

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The government wants to bulldoze my inheritance: 800-year-old sacred trees | Nayuka Gorrie

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Victoria's settler colonisation has been a violent and traumatic ongoing series of events on both Aboriginal people and our landscapes. Despite attempts to kill us off, assimilate us, we are still here. This truth is a thorn in the colonial side. As our physical human form persists, our land and our claim to it too remains.

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Australia's Silence On Indigenous Suicide

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Australia's Silence On Indigenous Suicide

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https://theconversation.com/australia-has-been-silent-on-indigenous-suicide-for-too-long-and-it-must-change-117261?fbclid=IwAR1yhz1q5aako-mgg7yZAttnpK9DxVfRTeW-Hv5tPLZmBF4wT19ghzedKqw

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A body hangs over me. I am so close I can feel there is weight to the body. It seems to twitch in the stagnant air of the theatre with the last tendrils of spirit. There is nowhere to avert my gaze. I remind myself this is the point: to feel the overwhelming sickness and powerlessness Indigenous people so often feel.

I am sitting watching Jack Sheppard's performance of The Honouring for the Yirrimboi Festival in Melbourne.

Sheppard asked his audience to sit with him and explore themes of grief, Indigenous suicide, and the transitionary healing of Sorry Business in Australia. I hold my grief in my throat. Sheppard gently brings the body down from its hanging place caressing this dear and valued soul that has nowhere to go. Suffering from internal sickness, pervading darkness and deep-seated trauma, the weight of reality and history is too much to bear.

Sheppard tells us this body could so easily have been his.

Read more: Why are we losing so many Indigenous children to suicide?

Indigenous suicide is a national crisis

In 2018, an Australian Senate enquiry heard overwhelming evidence from mental health experts that:

in too many cases, the causes of suicide for Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples is not mental illness, but despair caused by the history of dispossession combined with the social and economic conditions in which [they] live.

Following the deaths of an alarming number Indigenous young people earlier this year, Australian leaders were urged to declare a "national crisis".

We know suicide is contagious. Within groups of vulnerable people, prior suicide can lead to the occurrence of others. Lifeline reports the suicide rate amongst Indigenous people is more than double the national rate; Indigenous children die from suicide at five times the rate of their non-Indigenous peers.

Australia is not on track to 'close the gap'

The burden of suicide rests with our most disadvantaged. Its impact is mirrored in findings across child mortality, school attendance, life expectancy, reading and numeracy and employment.

Since 2005, Australia has endeavoured to "Close the Gap" with Indigenous people. Only early childhood education and year 12 attainment are on track to be met.

Mick Dodson, when he was Aboriginal and Torres Straight Islander Social Justice Commissioner, got to the heart of the issue in 1994 when he wrote:

The statistics of infant and perinatal mortality, are our babies and children who die in our arms... the statistics of shortened life expectancy, are our mothers and fathers, uncles, aunties and elders who live diminished lives and die before their gifts of knowledge and experience are passed on. We die silently under these statistics.

As a clinical psychologist and 2018 WA Australian of the year, Dr Tracey Westerman has commented that, given we have one of the highest child suicide rates in the world, it's staggering we don't have clear evidence of causal relationships and casual pathways to inform statistics of Indigenous suicide.

Read more: It's despair, not depression, that's responsible for Indigenous suicide

We need to acknowledge intergenerational trauma

Both major political parties have announced their intention to commit funding to stop the Indigenous suicide epidemic. Prime Minister Scott Morrison has directed $A503.1 million into a strategy to fund research and services to boost the government's youth mental health and suicide prevention plan.

During the election campaign, Labor promised effective urban and rural suicide prevention projects.

These commitments are, at least, something. But none of these policies acknowledge the need to educate non-Indigenous people about the complex narrative of Australia's dispossession. Invasion, frontier violence and massacre exist within living memory of Indigenous families, as do slavery, stolen wages, mandatory sentencing, and myriad racist government policies across Australia that have contributed to harm - and continue to do so.

Given ongoing disadvantage, along with emerging evidence that the effects of trauma can be passed on from one generation to another, for Indigenous people, in a real sense, our "history" rests in our body. Its effect is inescapable, we do not have a choice, we do not get to decide whether intergenerational trauma affects us or not.

The prime minister has called his $A6.7 million plan to retrace Captain Cook's circumnavigation of Australia a "great opportunity to talk about our history", even though Cook's voyage only went along the east coast.

This is just a small example of the widespread casual ignorance about our colonial past that means most Australians wouldn't be able to connect the dots between One Nation's proposed system of Indigenous identification - requiring me and my kids to undergo DNA testing to prove 25% ancestry - and the Stolen Generation strategy to breed out the colour.

This ignorance, and the continued discriminatory behaviour towards Indigenous peoples, prevents meaningful, ongoing action.

There is no empathy for the impact of history on Indigenous people in Australia. Our history is not an open book. I only need to mention Australia Day to make my point. We are yet to come to terms with our entangled history, our story and how to begin a process of truth-telling.

Policies aimed at reducing Indigenous youth suicide will fail to achieve their aims if they don't fully acknowledge the cumulative effects of our history, associated intergenerational trauma and the ongoing violence towards Indigenous Australians.

Read more: Indigenous voices are speaking loudly on social media but racism endures

Australia must change

The violence of dispossession is spilling across generations and has become a disease that is destroying our families and communities. It is not safe to be an Indigenous person in Australia. Where can we have a frank and brave conversation about this?

I watch the stage as Sheppard tucks his people in to dream without ceremony, dance or song. Without the safety of cultural authority and the healing transition of Sorry Business, our people move with Sheppard through grief to despair to madness to silence. What else is there to do but sit quietly with him and begin to speak back for the dead?
If you or anyone you know needs help or support, you can call Lifeline on 13 11 14. This is an edited version of an article co-published with Pursuit.

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Australia has been silent on Indigenous suicide for too long, and it must change

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A body hangs over me. I am so close I can feel there is weight to the body. It seems to twitch in the stagnant air of the theatre with the last tendrils of spirit. There is nowhere to avert my gaze.

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https://www.sbs.com.au/nitv/article/2021/02/14/opinion-apology-anniversary-time-recognise-nations-shame-and-commit-truth-telling?fbclid=IwAR1QWDxUFXC8_ueoyGUvHJemc0hQBM89jVdYdC8Nz_laTutX3wlYi8KvXy4

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Yesterday, Labor Leader Anthony Albanese took to Twitter to commemorate what he described as "still my proudest day as an MP". He was marking the 13 th anniversary of the National Apology and followed this up with a second tweet reinforcing his party's support for the Voice to Parliament.

Like a number of Aboriginal people on social media, I found the display a little absurd. It's the second time in two weeks a prominent white bloke has publicly expressed his pride at something which should be cause for humble reflection. Perhaps this is the real problem: powerful white men and their general inability to be agents of change because they benefit from systems currently in place. It's an arrogance many in the community don't have the privilege to possess.

It was back in about 1993 when my father took me to the opening of an exhibition entitled Between Two Worlds. That was where I heard, for the first time, my own grandmother speaking about her experiences being a stolen generation child. Her story " to Jay Creek and Back" was available as an audio recording and detailed her being taken from family then sleeping on concrete floors at a children's mission whilst being trained up in domestic skills so she could provide free labour to a Territory family in a related policy which became eventually known as "stolen wages". Many Australians became wealthy off the back of free Aboriginal labour and that exploitation has impacted successive generations.

Many Australians became wealthy off the back of free Aboriginal labour and that exploitation has impacted successive generations

Her story was there in amongst many other stories from stolen children in the Northern Territory. It strikes me now just how many of the names contained within this exhibition were of people who were/are members of my extended family. So many family lines disrupted, so many children being punished for speaking language and practicing culture. My grandmother had passed away a few years prior to the Apology, but if you watch the footage, you can see many of my extended family members up there in the gallery witnessing it.

I'm not going to gloss over my response on the day. I watched the Apology broadcast with many other Indigenous community members at the Aborigines Advancement League in Melbourne. At the time, I had tears running down my face and so did other members of the audience. My thoughts were with my grandmother and I am sure that had she been alive to hear it, she would have taken the Apology with thanks and grace. As the common epitaph goes though, "sorry means you don't do it again" and honestly, can Australia say 13 years down the track that they haven't done it again?

I've written this before, but when it comes to the annual anniversary of Rudd's Apology, there are two things I end up reflecting on. The first is despite its alleged importance when it comes to bridging gaps between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people, most Australians still seem to possess not even the remotest clue regarding what the Apology was for, much less why it was necessary. The second is despite all sentiments contained in the Apology, not much has changed.

On Friday in Sydney, Grandmothers Against Removals (GMAR) gathered to protest the NSW government's continued removal of Aboriginal children from family and community, particularly in light of children who had been removed as far as the UK. GMAR have been active for a number of years and have had some successes when it comes to getting governments to recognising the importance of kinship care when it comes to keeping children connected, yet forced adoption laws passed in NSW in 2018 which disproportionately target Aboriginal families have undermined those gains. How on earth can Australia truly claim it has learnt from past wrongs when Aboriginal children continue to make up 40% of those taken into "care" by government authorities?

How on earth can Australia truly claim it has learnt from past wrongs when Aboriginal children continue to make up 40% of those taken into "care" by government authorities?

The other part I mentioned was how many Australians have no clue what the Apology was for. Too many times I have seen this event most could easily watch on YouTube referred to as a coverall for every injustice committed against Indigenous people. It's not helped by certain members of the Indigenous right who lazily say " we've had sorry " without elaboration so their fans remain ignorant. Let's be clear here: the Apology was specifically to the members of the Stolen Generations, and their families, for the genocidal governmental policies which led to thousands of children being taken over many decades. It was for the pain of disconnection, the forced assimilation, and for the impacts still felt in many families today.

No politician, 13 years down the track, should be claiming pride the Apology happened. The process happened eleven years after it was recommended by the Bringing them Home Report after much community activism. Not much has changed since. What lessons have the Labor Party, who denied compensation following Rudd's gesture and then continued the Northern Territory Intervention, learnt since? Can we expect a golden age for Indigenous rights should they win the next Federal election? I strongly doubt it.

The Apology is a time to remember, reflect and commit as the subsequent generations that these atrocities will never happen again. It's a time to recognise a nation's shame and commit to truth-telling and action going forward. It's not a time for white politicians to pat themselves on the back for a job well done. They have a lot of real work to do before they've earnt that right.
- Celeste Liddle is an Arrernte woman living in Melbourne. She's a unionist, a writer and social commentator.

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OPINION: Apology anniversary is a time to recognise a nation's shame and commit to truth-telling and action going forward

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Yesterday, Labor Leader Anthony Albanese took to Twitter to commemorate what he described as "still my proudest day as an MP". He was marking the 13th anniversary of the National Apology and followed this up with a second tweet reinforcing his party's support for the Voice to Parliament.

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https://indigenousx.com.au/parliament-house-sexual-assaults-australia-you-have-a-problem/?fbclid=IwAR0wAoRnTWCpqjFBXIltEuMRGK7Wiug8gfWXdKawF3RW2Oi0ewlvnJAureM

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Over the last week we have witnessed the Australian federal cabinet avoid questions directed at how they intended to address the allegations levelled at them for their behaviour following the alleged rape of Brittany Higgins in a ministerial office at Parliament House, which some politicians are calling a 'cover up.' Instead of addressing the questions, they have instead perpetuated the age old strategy of victim blaming with woeful comments towards Brittany.

Like most people, I am disgusted at the victim-blaming and cover-up language used by the Australian Liberal party.

Unfortunately, as an Aboriginal woman living in the colony, I'm all too familiar with the victim-blaming culture of the settler colonial state. There are so many layers to the Prime Minister and his colleagues' behaviours to unpack and many media outlets already have but often without the intersectional lens.

The language and the response to Brittany made me think about the sheer lack of empathy towards her and towards all women, with the PM invoking the all too familiar dehumanising trope of "but what if that was my daughter?" to explain how he was finally able to apply a base level of human empathy to this fellow human being.

And for the PM that probably wasn't too difficult to imagine Brittany as his daughter - a young, ambitious, high achieving white woman working within the upper echelons of Australian society. That is quite likely a future that the PM imagines for his own children - but I do wonder, how much harder would it have been for him to imagine empathy if Brittany was black?

When we as a society determine the worth of injustice against a perceived or created level of available empathy, we ensure a system that gives justice based not on rules of law but on our ability to see someone we love - to imagine that their suffering is somehow 'more real' because we are readily able to put ourselves in their shoes. It enables us to ignore injustice against the 'other'.

I (along with most women in this country) can empathise with other survivors of abuse as it is not difficult to imagine myself in their shoes - that is the reality of living in a culture like Australia where approximately one in five women has experienced sexual violence and one in two women has experienced sexual harassment. I would of course be more upset or emotional if an injustice was committed against me, or someone I love than someone I don't know - but my recognition of the need for justice doesn't increase or decrease with my proximity to another person, or my ability to imagine that I could know them. This disparate way that our leaders look at these issues demonstrates that they are incapable of this empathy, not because they are most often men, but because they cannot comprehend the necessity of justice for those that they cannot relate to or see a loved one in the shoes of.

This country is unsafe for women, gender non-conforming, and nonbinary people. Even more so if you are transgender, have no money or are Aboriginal, and the Prime Minister's comments reinforce the toxic culture that made this happen. It is no surprise that the Prime Minister holds such views when we see that Australian institutions are rotten to the core from a moral and ethical standpoint that includes views of sexual abuse. We have even seen high ranking members of the Liberal Party (former Prime Ministers John Howard and Tony Abbott) providing George Pell character references despite all of the evidence to the contrary that George Pell was of good character.

As seemingly shocking as it is, we need to temper our shock with the truth of what we know of this place and the power brokers that walk the hallways. Specifically, the successive governments that legislate with apathy to humanity and human rights, placing our most vulnerable in deplorable conditions including refugees who have experienced and and the continuing violence against Indigenous people in prisons? The wilful abandonment of decency apparent in the policies enacted and the rhetoric used to deploy them shows that this government and in fact, the political institution as a whole, is not capable of the empathy required of leadership.

Little wonder then that what we are seeing played out in Parliament House is happening on a far greater scale in every community in Australia.

I have to admit that I have very little faith in old stale white politicians who can't envision beyond the carceral system they build to find real justice and accountability.

I'm not surprised, I'm hurt, like most women I've spoken to over the last week, we do our best to survive every day without letting the past traumas hurt us. But watching these politicians victim blame and cover-up is a little unwanted reminder of the experiences we are healing from, often compounding the pain. We also feel deep pain for Brittany who is dealing with this with the media spotlight.

It should go without saying but the clear take away from this national discussion is to BELIEVE women and make institutions safe places, not only free from this violence but where we can speak truth to power for justice and accountability. Australia was built on sexual violence, Aboriginal people have been at the frontier of this violence from day one and have long been fighting for accountability so we, once again, stand in support of women being safe, supported and receiving justice.

Notwithstanding our long history in fighting for an end to sexual violence and justice, when Aboriginal people speak up about the injustices that we face as a people, we are treated with heavy contempt by Australian society. We are told that the issue is a narrow one but the country and those that seek to silence us fail to see how related all facets of violence and injustice are and the origins of them in this country. The predatory sexual violence that we see happening, started with colonisers - it started (and continues) against us.

Australia lives in denial everyday on how the nation was built, and this denial makes me fear that Brittany and many others that speak up will not receive the justice they are owed, however I applaud them. Their bravery in making themselves vulnerable in speaking up is an act of courage that all women look to and we owe it to them, we owe it to all who did not have a chance to speak up, to refuse a return to the status quo of toxic misogyny and leadership.

There needs to be a serious foundational shake up before we know what justice looks like for any victims and survivors. I hope that when that shake up happens, that white women don't forget who started this resistance and leave the rest of us in the dust when this happens.

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Parliament house sexual assaults, Australia you have a problem - Meriki Onus - IndigenousX

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Over the last week we have witnessed the Australian federal cabinet avoid questions directed at how they intended to address the allegations levelled at them for their behaviour following the alleged rape of Brittany Higgins in a ministerial office at Parliament House, which some politicians are calling a 'cover up.'

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Homeless Deaths in Australia's Richest State

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Homeless Deaths in Australia's Richest State

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https://www.thesaturdaypaper.com.au/news/economy/2021/09/18/homeless-deaths-australias-richest-state/163188720012496?fbclid=IwAR07cWIRnrEkrjAOjqQ0qMXFBFLhj14G3OR8-PHvLwdWmUTKROg0PEepb8s#hrd

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Overnight on Thursday, August 12, a woman was found dead at Perth train station. She was 34.

Her death, the third of a homeless woman in the heart of the city in just two weeks, sparked a protest the following day. People blocked the street outside the station, desperate to draw focus to an unfolding crisis.

Friends, family and supporters say eight homeless Indigenous women have died in the city this winter, including six on the streets. Figures made public last month show at least 56 homeless people died in Perth in 2020.

While most of the families have not publicly named their lost loved ones, the family of Alana Garlett, who died on June 18, has spoken out, calling for action.

Alana, the mother of six children, was homeless and sleeping rough when found opposite Wesley Church in the city centre at night, suffering breathing difficulties. She was rushed to Royal Perth Hospital where she died, aged 38.

Western Australia has been largely unscathed by the pandemic. It is resource-rich and last week posted a budget surplus of $5 billion. The recent deaths, however, reveal a crisis under the surface.

Associate Professor Lisa Wood, who leads the Home2Health team within the University of Western Australia's school of population and global health, says the death toll of more than one homeless person each week in 2020 is "a conservative figure". The records come from public hospitals only - "not every hospital in Western Australia, not even every hospital in Perth".

The average age of death was 47, and 28 per cent of those who lost their lives on the streets were Indigenous.

"Now I have emphysema, they found a house for me. After all these years they gave me a house I can die in."

"Over the last few years in Perth it is consistently around that age," Wood says. "No one is getting anywhere near the life expectancy for Australia."

Wood says it is harder to provide a toll for 2021 so far, as a number of street deaths are under investigation. "We do have hospital notification data for quite a few deaths this year ... and I have heard there has sadly been a spate of deaths on the street among Aboriginal people, which is terrible."

Alana Garlett's cousins, Noelene Garlett and Kelly Garlett, have both experienced long-term homelessness.

"I was homeless for 10 years, I brought my son up on the streets as well..." Noelene says. "That made me feel bad as a mother. I was couch-surfing, staying at families' houses, car parks in the city. Up on Bulwer Street there was a squat. The police chucked us out."

Her eyes fill with tears as she talks about her cousin, and others who have died.

"All these women dying on the streets... A lot of women out from Kalgoorlie way, a lot of them come up here for doctors, and they end up dying on the streets."

Kelly Garlett has been staying at a women's refuge for two years. She is on the priority waitlist for public housing, but expects to be waiting "for another two years".

She mentions a homeless friend who took his own life last year. "And there are a lot we don't know about."

Noelene suffered from pneumonia in 2020. "When they figured out I didn't have Covid ... they sent me back to my tent. It was at tent city. Now I have emphysema, they found a house for me. After all these years they gave me a house I can die in."

Wood notes the overwhelming evidence demonstrates the severe impact of homelessness on people's health and life expectancy. Illness goes untreated and people die from underlying conditions.

"We know the cause of death in about half of the 56 cases: cancers detected late; chronic health conditions; sadly there are overdoses and suicides, which goes hand in hand with the fact most people on the street have experienced trauma.

"We see it all the time ... people have a chronic health condition but their medication is stolen, or they need a fridge in which to keep their insulin, or they have a respiratory condition and are sleeping out in the cold. There are conditions people normally might get in their 60s and 70s, and homeless people get them in their 40s ... sleeping on cold cement, being awake half the night being frightened of what could happen to you."

Dr Amanda Stafford, clinical lead for the Royal Perth Hospital Homeless Team, says homeless people often arrive at the hospital with trimorbidity: physical health problems, mental health problems and drug problems.

"Rough sleepers present at the emergency department with injuries from assaults and from falls, and acute problems such as infections like pneumonia, skin infections, infections from intravenous drug use," she says. "The other major group would be those with complications from chronic illnesses like heart disease, asthma, smoking related lung disease which are undertreated or not treated at all on the streets."

Kelly Garlett says that people coming out of hospital are sent straight back to the streets. "It is the same when they get out of prison. Where are they going to go? That's why a lot of them end up going back in."

Desmond Blurton, who was homeless for a decade after coming out of prison, puts it another way: "Down here on the streets our people are dying at an alarming rate. If it were non-Indigenous women dying on the streets there would be a taskforce set up. Are we always going to be third-class citizens in our own country?"

Anselm Taylor spent seven years homeless before getting a home last December, after being a leader of a protest campaign by homeless people that saw tent cities established across the city, including outside Parliament House.

"I had a heart attack on the streets last year," says Taylor, a Noongar elder. "There were no doctors around, no street doctor at the time. It took me two weeks to go to see a street doctor and to go to hospital to get my heart checked. I nearly lost my life at tent city.

"These houses we are getting - that won't bring back what we lost to the streets. All those girls we lost, they are part of our people, our culture. It's not going to be the same without them. Give them places families with children can go, when they've got nowhere to go. I would especially like to see the ladies off the streets ... They are the backbone of our lives, and so many of them are not with us anymore.

"I've lost people to the streets, and people who have died in custody. I lost my baby brother, my nephew ... We need a place where people can be safe and secure when they come out of prison, so they don't go back in. When is enough enough? When we are wiped out?"

Lisa Wood says there are about 600 people sleeping rough in Perth. The numbers are rising. "We do a lot of work with the Royal Perth Hospital Homeless Team and the homeless healthcare GP practice ... Both of them have seen an increase in people who are street present."

Stafford says the homelessness data base is recording about 100 new people becoming homeless in Perth each month. "We have the group of chronically homeless rough sleepers who have not been able to obtain housing. Added to that is the increasing precarity of current times, in which people who were just hanging on with part-time or gig work and now their rent has increased or they can't find their type of work. These people who were not previously homeless are falling into homelessness."

Michelle Mackenzie, chief executive of Shelter WA, says the pandemic drove an increase in street homelessness, as well as an increase in fear and anxiety among homeless people. When the moratorium on rent increases and evictions ended in March, she saw an immediate increase in homelessness.

Mackenzie says the number of deaths of homeless people reinforces the need for the state to invest in social housing. "The front-line services are still really stretched," she says. "The new investment in social housing is fantastic but we need more of it. The services don't have the staff or housing to provide the immediate housing-first response that is needed."

There are more than 17,300 households on Western Australia's housing waitlist, with that figure jumping by several hundred since the rental moratorium ended. A total of about 30,000 people are waiting, including about 6000 on the priority waitlist, many of whom are women escaping domestic violence.

This month, the state government announced $875 million in funding for social housing, with a planned $2.1 billion over four years to build about 3300 new properties. People working in the sector worry it will only touch the surface of the problem.

Wood says: "We often hear the women's refuges are full, the crisis accommodation is full. Housing is the critical first step, but often they need wraparound support, health services and social support ... Some of the people that died last year had been rough sleeping for more than 10 years. Think about what that would do to your health."

Minister for Community Services Simone McGurk said the government will open the state's first 24/7 medical recovery centre for homeless people, near the city centre, next month.

She said that in addition to $108 million each year provided to community organisations for homelessness services, the government's Boorloo Bidee Mia facility, which opened in August, provides "culturally responsive accommodation " for people experiencing rough sleeping in the Perth CBD.

Dr Betsy Buchanan, who has worked with Aboriginal people as an advocate since 1978, says the housing system is "diabolical".

"I know of dozens of families who have lost someone to the streets," she says. "Thousands of Aboriginal children have been evicted ... These are people I have known since I started working in advocacy over 40 years ago. I know their history. The trauma and humiliation of eviction makes them relive the worst moments of their lives. How could they treat someone like that? It implies a deep-seated racism."
Lifeline 13 11 14
This article was first published in the print edition of The Saturday Paper on September 18, 2021 as "Homeless deaths in Australia's richest state".

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Homeless deaths in Australia's richest state

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Overnight on Thursday, August 12, a woman was found dead at Perth train station. She was 34. Her death, the third of a homeless woman in the heart of the city in just two weeks, sparked a protest the following day. People blocked the street outside the station, desperate to draw focus to an unfolding crisis.