Creating Space Project

Amy Martinez listens to the story of Isabelle from Belle and the Bear, in which Isabelle's bear was stolen by her mother's abusive partner.

"I feel like [the teddy bear] stands for something else that has been taken away from her."

The sadness that Amy feels for Isabelle relates also to her own experiences in childhood. Now, as a young adult, Amy says she is starting to notice the ways in which people hold power over her.

For example, she had a boyfriend who was very controlling.

"He knew that I cared so much about him that he could do whatever he wanted and get away with it because he could say certain things to bring me back."

Amy's reflection is a curious mix of vulnerability and courage. It takes a lot of strength to allow yourself to publically experience and express strength and there's a lot to be learnt here about emotional resilience and getting to know yourself.

"Hope is a spacious place. It's so full of possibility."

Chantale has a way with words that is a little hypnotic. And she has a way with ideas. Hope, for her, is a red balloon that expands your chest so you can breathe a little more easily.

Much like her balloon, or more accurately, because of her balloon, this is a conversation that expands - into mental health, the vagaries of babies that interrupt interviews, what keeps us awake at night, climate change, what a better future means, Brene Brown's vulnerability hangovers, messiness - and into a conversation about conversation, stories and words. About the things that make us human.

And here is the poem that she shares with us - it's worth lingering over:

357/365 // the balloon // #365daysofpoetry

Love, mistaking my heart for a balloon, took a deep breath and blew

and now it sits uncomfortably tight in my chest, swollen against ribs that creak under the strain

drifting upwards until my toes barely touch the ground

I am adrift in newly awoken hope

(Chantale Roxanas)

I'm excited by this episode. I love all of the interviews I do (maybe not my interviewing all the time, but I love all the stories) but this one was like interviewing the kind of person I hope to be in another decade or so – still committed to social justice, still passionate about what I do. Not bitter about the losses.

Dare has just left her role as CEO of Reverse Garbage, which is a facility that diverts resources away from landfill and into creative and practical re-use. Need a whole bunch of shredded paper and foam bits and bobs? Go to Reverse Garbage.

Social justice and equity, especially intergenerational equity, are the values that underpin Dare's career that has spanned health promotion, anti-slavery, refugee rights, gender issues, housing and neighbourhood development.

When it comes to issues of sustainability and climate change, Dare hopes to help nudge us into the direction of a circular economy, as opposed to the linear economy that the Western world currently embraces.

"There is a finite amount of matter in this planet so we're always turning one thing into something else… we need to keep working with that in a way that it keeps going."

Dare is trying to help save us from ourselves. That is a story worth sharing.

Angela is amazing. Single mother of two kids. Assistant director in the city. Courageous, empathic and generous.

I played her Amanda's story from Red Flags and then we talked about it.

Domestic violence is hard. I struggled to ask Angela about it and I feel a bit ashamed of that.

Remembering abuse brings up strong emotions and layers of self-judgement. Talking about it brings up the complicated nuances of male and female relationships in society; it brings up the fear of reprisal if it's heard by the abuser or their family.

But Angela feels a responsibility to speak up about her relationship with her ex-husband, both to help other women and to end the intergenerational transmission of abuse for the sake of her children.

And I feel very grateful that she let me share this story.

Isabelle is the twelve-year-old daughter of Amanda, who talked about domestic violence in the episode Red Flags.

Resilient and insightful, Isabelle talks about her mother's abusive partner stealing her teddy bear when she was six years old.

"I was just an angry child because I lost my teddy bear."

On the cusp of adolescence, Isabelle has already learnt a great deal about herself and emotion regulation. She is unapologetic for a justified anger and, at the same time, understands that lashing out in anger is not often effective.

"Emotions rub off on people. If you're angry all the time, no one will want to talk to you. If you're calm, people wll rely on you."

"Why doesn't she just leave him?"

Trigger warning: Domestic violence.

Amanda Cosgrove describes how it took five years to leave a man who was abusing her and the strategies that he used to manipulate his way into remaining in her life, including using her children and slowly undermining her belief in herself.

After the relationship ended, she went through counselling to rebuild her self-worth and self-respect. Forgiving herself, despite it not being her fault, took a long time. She also did courses to learn ways of identifying the red flags that can be a warning of abuse.

Despite all this work, Amanda found herself in a relationship that turned violent. Her son had to step into to save her while she was being seriously assaulted by her partner.

A woman of remarkable strength, insight and resilience, raising five healthy and happy children, Amanda shares her tale as a lesson in how, under the right circumstances, we are all vulnerable to abuse.

"Hopefully with more and more people speaking out about it, hopefully women do listen and don't try and pretend everything's fine like I did for so long."

Nivelo started Equally Wed in the faith that one day, Australia would enact marriage equality. A wedding directory catering for gay, lesbian, queer and transgendered couples, Equally Wed reflects Niv's belief in equality and civil rights.

"The reason why I really started this business was so that everybody had the same rights and option."

The inspiration for Equally Wed came seven years ago, when Nivelo's brother and male partner opened a package containing a cake topper. The expression on their faces of joy and happiness really struck Nivelo. They had found something that represented them, something they could see themselves in.

And that, to Nivelo, is important.

* This is not a paid endorsement of Equally Wed. I just admired the imagination and motivation that it took to set up this business years ago and hold faith that one day Australia would get its act together.

A child with a disability taught retired teacher, Elizabeth Appleyard, an important lesson on mental health and wellbeing.

In a class exercise, when other children were wishing for material items, this child wished for a new hand.

At the same time, this child appeared to be an essentially happy soul. He had friends, he laughed, he played.

The lesson for Elizabeth is that happiness is transient. To be happy means that, at some point, you will also be sad. They are emotions on the same spectrum.

Underneath them is contentment and peace. You can feel sad and know that, basically, you're alright.

Contentment is about enjoying day to day existence, about experiencing each day as a present to be unwrapped.

"I can pay my bills and I can do what I like with my day. That," says Elizabeth, "is a luxury."

Dei Phillips is a Bundjalung woman.

Fierce and compassionate, she is relentless as an activist and advocate for Aboriginal people in Australia. In trying to arrange this interview, we kept having to postpone. Dei is always busy, whether it be marching on Invasion/Survival Day or seeking legal representation for young Aboriginal first offenders.

She is a passionate educator about pre-colonial history and geography. When I finally got to talk to her, it was more than worth the wait. I got to hear about the importance of language, story, and place. These things form our culture and identity. I felt that I understood more about how utterly devastating it is to have them stolen.

And it all began for Dei back in early primary school.

As a little girl, she found herself attacking a boy tormenting a small girl with cancer. While she regrets being in a physical fight, she learnt, in that moment, the feeling of strength that accompanies protecting someone else.

It was a defining experience, in terms of becoming an activist.

"That singular moment of watching this young girl, who was a white girl, be dehumanised for something that was completely out of her control."

The basis of activism, says Dei, is the desire to protect.

The only Aboriginal child in her inner-city primary school, Dei would sometimes be sent to stay with her grandmother, a thousand kilometres away. Here, she went to school with family and cousins. The contrast between the two experiences was quite stark. Going to school with her mob was freeing.

"You don't feel frowned upon, you don't feel like people are making judgements on you as much as when you're the only Aboriginal in the school."

I've tried a few times to write up more of the interview for these notes. I thought I was just struggling to condense all the themes of it down to a short piece. But I've realised that, as a Settler woman, a descendent of English and Irish, I don't feel it's my place to write up the knowledge that Dei gifted me in this interview. So, I hope you are able to listen for yourself.

If you're not able to listen, you could email me to ask for pdf of the transcript: admin at creatingspaceproject dot com

Teresa Benetos was a nurse in Baghdad when Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait. She's writing a memoir about her time as a hostage in Iraq.

Growing up in a traditional Irish Catholic household, it has taken many years for Teresa to realise that, as a woman, her story is of interest. After thirty years, she says, it is time to tell the story of 'The Accidental Hostage.'

As a teenager, she battled with her father to be able to finish her Leaving Certificate at school and study to become a nurse. Against the background of an economic recession, Teresa was compelled to seek work in London, during the era of "No blacks, no dogs, no Irish."

She left London and went to work in Belfast during the Troubles, the thirty-year armed conflict and political deadlock in Northern Ireland.

Then, in 1990, she took a job in a hospital in Baghdad. Before she returned to Iraq after some leave, she had her fortune told: She would be surrounded by uniforms and there was months of worry ahead for her parents.

On August the 2nd, 1990, Saddam Hussein invaded Kuwait and decided that foreigners were not allowed to leave. Teresa was one of about 200 Irish nurses held hostage. So long as they continued to work in the hospital during Operation Desert Storm, they were relatively safe.

As well as the fear of their own position, they experienced the vicarious trauma of treating the civilians impacted by armed conflict, including the pre-invasion gassing of Kurds, with children being carried on foot from Mosul with horrific injuries. Following the trade sanctions imposed by the UN, people were running out of food; the hospital was running out of medicine and supplies.

This is a story both harrowing and inspiring, as well as bearing historical importance. Reflecting on family, career and recovery from trauma, the interview reveals Teresa's strength and resilience. It also provides tantalising hints into her skill as a writer.

The conundrum of the story is a familiar one: Family. We flee into the world and sometimes end up longing to return. What Teresa wanted most, trapped in Baghdad, was the family and the parents she'd so desperately wanted to leave.