Redfern - Gentrification and Housing Commission

A Story by BenjiPK

A pondering/rant/diatribe on the changing face of Redfern and the Inner City.

Redfern today ain’t the Redfern it used to be.

At a time when this writer was younger, he lived and went to school in Glebe, an area that was known (some would say in equal measure) for a rich culture and local history which attracted many of the country’s most affluent (read: disturbingly rich) citizens, juxtaposed against crippling poverty and difficult social issues such as drug-addiction and extreme teenage violence (more than one student of Glebe High School was stabbed by another, on campus and during school hours).

Nonetheless, when the subject of Redfern arose in the playground, nearly all of the proudly self-named ‘Glebe Boys’ who inhabited the public housing complexes of Mitchell Street and it’s surrounds, would invariably either profess a close kinship and alliance with, or insist themselves tougher and scarier than the ‘Redfern Boys’ - the infamous young fellas (and full grown adults for that matter) who could be found dwelling deep in the bowels of Eveleigh Street, who would roll you for a box of matches or simply kill you and eat you as soon as look at you if you weren't there to buy heroin (or maybe even if you were). Indeed, ‘The Block’ was, and had for a long time been, the most genuinely feared, grudgingly respected and generally unwelcoming patch of Sydney’s inner-city.

It goes without saying that the enraged public outcry (still referred to by some as ‘the Redfern Riots’) which erupted in 2004 after the tragic death of a local 17 year old in a police chase (and which was doubtlessly exacerbated when news broke that the subsequent investigation in to the matter had yielded no disciplinary action or charges laid against any police officers) did little to dispel any reputation Redfern had as a place police didn’t want to be and rich white people should not want to go.

But that’s the thing about some rich white people - they just seem to relish engaging in any kind of behaviour apparently not in their best interests.

Even in the years before the ugliness of 2004, Redfern locals with whom this individual shared a school would report, with a mix of morbid interest and unfeigned concern, clear indications that their area was significantly changing. Multi-million dollar gentrification projects were under way. Expensive houses were now being bought and built next to long-standing public housing complexes. ‘The Block’ was apparently soon to be bulldozed. Redfern was evolving, and would evolve further. And even at our young ages, playground debate over whether this was a good or a bad thing would flare like a petrol bomb.

It was long overdue, some would say; the government was obviously finally attempting to fix the problems that had plagued the poverty-ridden area since before any of us could remember. A more gentrified neighbourhood would mean better social services, better maintained public housing and maybe even the beginning of an end to the numerous social injustices that residents had been forced to accept for so long.

Wrong, others would say, all wrong; the government was never to be trusted. Before the 2000 Sydney Olympics, numerous public housing residents were sent (or perhaps, according to official records and specific terminology, ‘strongly encouraged’ or ‘given incentive’) to live in speedily approved and hastily built public housing in the Blue Mountains, in a rather blatant attempt to make Redfern and other South Sydney suburbs seem less threatening to the influx of tourists. This scenario would be an even more vicious version of that - Eveleigh Street residents would be told “We don’t care where you go, but you can’t stay here”. Certain faceless powers that be knew now that a prime piece of inner-city real estate was being squandered and were going to rectify their error by throwing people with nowhere else to go out of their homes.

The passing of time has seen, in much of Redfern, a definite transformation, of that there can be no doubt. Whether the former or the latter of the two above arguments holds true today, and whether the transformation of the suburb has been a positive or a negative one, some would claim simply to be a matter of perspective. And, in a sense, this author agrees - one would imagine the perspective gained from atop a mountain of money to be most singular.

That was wanky, I'm sorry. Disregard.

Whatever view your abode offers, there can be no denying that change in Redfern is once again afoot - the front pages of almost every Sydney newspaper earlier this year served as evidence enough. Gentrification is the buzz-word in Redfern once again in 2016 - and opinions are as divided as ever.

Local property owner John Sophios told SBS news that he had owned his property in Redfern, namely a row of terrace houses located on Eveleigh Street, since the 1980’s. He is the first to proudly point out that, from the outside, the properties appear unchanged in appearance. Even fire damage from the 2004 riots is still visible on them - but this has not deterred financially-comfortable residents who want to live close to, or even inside, what they see as a piece of Sydney’s history. Indeed, quite the opposite - the location is exciting for young people who have been raised in leafy suburban surroundings; perhaps trendy and desirable for well off individuals who want to live the single life close to the city; nothing short of extremely profitable for Mr. Sophios, who argues that the median rental rate of more than $1200 per week for one of his terraces is “pretty cheap for a four bedroom home”.

Long-time Redfern resident Norma Ingram sees a darker side to this gentrification of the suburb she has made her home. In her mind, the changes she has seen in her community have taken place not for the widespread benefit of her and her neighbours who were born and raised in the area, but rather to serve the financial interests of a few. She says that sky-rocketing rent prices have severely damaged those in lower-income households and are, quite literally, forcing Indigenous residents out of their cultural home. "[A part of] society wants to grow out now and the Aboriginal community is in their way, so they [want to] send us all out again to the outskirts of Sydney and they again want us to be fringe dwellers," she said to SBS News.

Many residents of Redfern, Waterloo and other South Sydney suburbs originally made their home here because they had nowhere else to go - perhaps they could only afford public housing or very cheap private rent, thus they lived where they were able to. Perhaps their dwellings were a little less than glamourous, but over time they became a home. They have built and nurtured relationships, friendships, families; their roots are, and always will be, in South Sydney. And maybe some are feeling a little indignant about the prospect of being told to move out, about the threat of having to pack up their bags and their jobs and their families and their children and their friends and memories and whole lives and just get out, just go and live somewhere else, for no apparent reason other than people with more money than them have decided that a neighbourhood which was previously too dirty and dangerous for high-society types to even set foot in is, actually, pretty sophisticated yet quaint these days, and the new cafés really are superb, and the supermarkets have improved hugely and oh! that new bar near the train station that serves cocktails in those jam-jar-type-things is just so cosy and they’d really appreciate it if you would just quickly and quietly get out of the way so they can pave a parking place for their second Lexus right on top of where you taught your kid how to ride his first bike thank you so very much.

But perhaps I am being overly bitter; after all, if we as human-beings can be sure of anything, it’s that the only certainty in life is change. Maybe the only option Redfern locals have is to ‘roll with the punches’.

Aboriginal elder and café owner Beryl Van-Oploo (also known as Auntie Beryl) has lived and worked in Redfern since well before this author was born. She told SBS News this year that, in her mind, the key to survival is embracing change. After opening a second business in South Sydney, she encouraged aspiring business owners, especially Indigenous ones, to stay as local as they could afford; that the influx of wealthy residents with disposable income could serve to benefit long-time residents, provided they aren’t scared to take advantage of it. "Our mob has to step up to the market and I know that a lot of them are," she said. “Don’t fight change - embrace it.”

Some residents will undoubtedly remain skeptical - perhaps with good reason. Not everybody can open and run a café or small business to take advantage of the new money coming in to town. It has been shown, all over the world and throughout history, that the wealthy and powerful have consistently found ways to benefit themselves and those closest to them at the expense of the poor and unfortunate. The question of whether this persistent and tragically destructive pattern will continue to repeat itself in Redfern will be determined by the actions of the angry, the whims of the wealthy and the permissions the powerful.

As with almost all things in life only the passing of time will produce a definitive answer - and even when it does, some people will still be typing articles like this one, ranting and raving and blistering their fingertips in exasperation at the fact that nothing in this world of ours seems to ever change for the better and yet humans thrive on the belief that things couldn’t possibly get that much worse; others will keep their noses deep in the Daily Telegraph and gingerly yet absent-mindedly step over the homeless and upon the powerless.

Apologies, I’m writing this at a compulsory “Work for the Dole” training session, my exasperation at which I’m beginning to think is leaking out on to the page. Recalibrate.

All that has been said being as it may, let us at least take some small comfort in this simple truth - Redfern will never go away. Redfern will not soften. Redfern will never ‘back off’ or ‘chill out’ or ‘settle down’ or ‘take it easy’ or ‘give it a rest’. Redfern will not lower its voice or pull up its socks or mind its language for you or anybody else. Redfern is not simply a place; it is the people who have built that place, the multicultural and multicoloured characters who have made it what it is. The spirit of survival that has sustained Redfern’s residents shall not ever be stifled - nobody, but nobody, has been or ever will be able to make a Redfern kid sit down and shut up.